Chapter One
“I’ve got good news and bad news for you, kid.” Dr. Denise Saunders looked down into the hopeful eyes of her twelve-year-old patient, Johnny. “The good—you’re going to live. The bad—you may die yet. Give your mom another scare like today and she just might kill you herself. Justifiably so.”
“I almost had it,” his small voice murmured as Johnny looked up through ridiculously long lashes at her and his mom.
“Almost had it?” his mom squeaked. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck. I still don’t understand what in the world you were thinking.”
Denise slid the X-ray into place and turned on the light to show her patient and his mom. “See this dark line here, running across the white? That shows you have a simple fracture of the radius—a broken arm. That’s good, because we don’t have to operate, but you will have to wear a cast for about six weeks while it heals.” She turned to Johnny’s mom, a woman about her own height of five-six, with darker brown hair and eyes that seemed well beyond her years. “Thankfully, kids heal pretty fast. He shouldn’t have any long-term effects.”
The thanks Mrs. Ford extended didn’t reach her eyes.
“So listen up, Blaze,” she teased, using the last name of the superhero the boy had tried to emulate. “If you promise me you won’t try any more super stunts, especially without supervision and protection, I won’t dress your cast in Hello Kitty wrap. Deal?”
“They make it look so easy,” Johnny grumbled, slinking down in the sterile bed.
Denise reached out and ruffled his hair. “Of course they do, silly. Johnny Blaze signed a pact with the devil and the Human Torch was mutated. Plus, they have the magic of Hollywood behind them.”
“Johnny, honey, what are you talking about?” his mom asked.
“Ghost Rider and Fantastic Four,” Denise and Johnny answered together.
“Are you kidding me? You could have been killed. You’re never watching those movies again,” his mom choked out.
Denise gave Johnny a sympathetic smile before turning to his mom. “Mrs. Ford, this is going to take a couple of minutes and we need to wait for my nurse, Jenna, to gather up the supplies. Would you like a cup of coffee or tea? We have a break station just outside the room.”
Normally, Denise would have passed this task—wrapping Johnny’s arm—off to an intern with her nurse’s assistance, but things were quiet in the ER, as they had been for the past couple of weeks, so she could afford to take the luxury of talking to her patient’s mom and seeing this through to the end. It was kind of a nice change of pace.
Mrs. Ford cast a long, frustrated look at her son and stood up. “I’d love some, thanks.”
Denise led her outside the room and to the little causeway next to it that allowed staff to zip from one side of the ER to the other, to get patients ice, water, Jell-O, and the occasional snack to hold them over on long shifts.
“Do you have kids, Dr. Saunders?”
Denise shook her head and ignored the tick-tock of her internal clock, reminding her that birthday number thirty-three would soon be here.
“It’s a challenge, especially with only one parent. Still, I wouldn’t trade one moment of motherhood. Well, maybe I’d skip a few, like when he gets these wild ideas that he can be a superhero.”
Denise pointed to the coffee and tea carafes and told Mrs. Ford to help herself, and pulled a bottle of water out from the minifridge for herself.
“Do you mind my asking, what does his dad do for a living?”
“John Sr. was in the Navy. They said he was a hero when he gave his life to save what appeared to be an innocent family. The woman and children were decoys and John shouldn’t have been in the sandbox to begin with. He joined the Navy, not the Army or the Marines. He belonged on a submarine. Safe. Away from land mines and suicide bombers.” Mrs. Ford looked to Johnny’s room before exhaling a deep sigh and turning back to Denise. “That was two years ago.”
“Ah, I see.” And she did, because this had been Johnny’s third time in the ER in the past two years after pulling a dangerous stunt. It all made sense now, and her heart broke, knowing what this child had lost and all he’d continue to miss out on in the coming years. “You’re doing a great job with your son.”
“But if I don’t do something soon, he might try something even crazier.”
“I’m not a psychologist, Mrs. Ford, so take this with a grain of salt.” Denise took a sip of her water. “Kids tend to deal with loss differently than adults do; they lose themselves in books and movies. They block events out and sometimes they try to prove nothing bad can ever happen to them.”
“What do I do?” Mrs. Ford whispered, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes. “I’ve tried talking to him. He tunes me out.”
“There’s a group of psychologists here in Providence who specialize in children. They practice behavior therapy, so they could help Johnny funnel his pain, confusion, and anger into acceptable—and safe—activities. I’ll get you their card before you leave.”
“Thanks.” The mom stepped toward the room and stopped. “Would you really wrap his cast in Hello Kitty?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Thankfully, she didn’t have to resort to drastic measures as Johnny apologized to his mom as soon as they walked into his room and promised both women he wouldn’t try any more stunts on his own. In short order, they got his arm wrapped in the cast and sent the boy and his mom on their way, with the psychologists’ card tucked safely in Mrs. Ford’s purse.
“I think you have another admirer,” Jenna Beck, nurse and confidante extraordinaire, informed her as she cleaned up the mess in the exam room.
“Now, if only I could find a guy over four feet tall and of legal age who’s as easily impressed.”
“It might help if you didn’t look like you were still waiting to graduate high school. I bet you get carded?”
“All the time.”
“So not fair.” They walked out of the room and headed to the nurses’ station. “I’d like to find a guy who doesn’t want to play doctor when he finds out I’m a nurse.” Jenna pulled a syringe out of her pocket, hit the end, and turned it into a pen. “Of course when I whip one of these puppies out, they tend to change their tune rather quickly.”
“Sheer genius.” They joined two of the other nurses, Valerie and Kris, along with her fellow resident on duty, Dr. Shad Davis, at the desk. “Anything new come in?” Denise handed over the hospital copies of Johnny’s discharge paperwork to Valerie.
“Nope. Time to enjoy the calm before the weekend storm, where we’ll all put in overtime. Thankfully, Valentine’s isn’t as bad as New Year’s or July fourth.” Kris said.
“It’s not like I have a social life anyway. May as well work.” Denise could remember a time when she’d had that someone special in her life to share the day’s stories with, to go out to dinner or a show with, but she’d given it all up for the dark side. Only there weren’t any cookies, just long hours, cold nights, and her own internal clock tick-tocking away, reminding her life was slipping by.
“Tell me about it,” Shad chimed in. “I figured because I never have time to hang with friends outside of here, I’d join the social media bandwagon and sign up on Facebook. At least then, in between patients and while studying for my fellowship, I could catch up with family. Big mistake.”
“What did you do, get addicted to one of those games?” Jenna asked as she dropped into the free chair.
“I never made it that far. I picked a night after a particularly long and emotionally draining day. Got as far as filling in my profile and uploading my picture before I fell asleep at my desk. The next morning, I woke up to over a hundred e-mails in my in-box with some interesting and creative suggestions. They even uploaded pictures. I think I saw more naked bodies in one day than I have in my entire medical career.”
Jenna shot her a raised eyebrow and started laughing. Valerie and Kris, who were older and a bit on the conservative side, exchanged quiet smiles.
“Doesn’t sound like Facebook to me. Not that I’m on there.” Denise pulled her water bottle out of her pocket and took a long drink.
“Well, the site started with an F and had the word book in it.” Shad turned about ten shades of crimson.
“You didn’t?” All four women asked before breaking out in laughter.
“My next-door neighbor even responded. With a picture. Au naturel. He’s eighty!”
Denise choked on her water. Tears streamed down Jenna’s face, while Valerie covered her mouth with her hand.
“Do you know how awkward it was running into him at the mailbox? I mean, what do you say when you’ve seen your eighty-year-old neighbor naked, with an offer to do bad things to you?”
“How’s it hanging? Oh, never mind. I already know,” Kris suggested innocently.
Denise lost it then. The laughter stole her breath away, and the quieter she tried to be the harder it was to breathe.
“Clearly you need to disappear, Shad. Change your phone number, delete your e-mail, maybe even move to Nome, Alaska. If anyone asks if you’re Dr. Shad Davis from Providence, deny, deny, deny. I could hook you up with a good plastic surgeon. A little nip on the nose and chin, a little tuck around the eyes, and you might be able to return in about ten years or so.”
“I’ve learned my lesson. The Internet is evil. I’m never going on social media again. My friends and family can reach me the old-fashioned way, via phone or in person.” His phone pinged in his pocket and when he pulled it out and looked at the screen, Shad hung his head. “I’m going to go delete my e-mail account.”
“Poor guy.” Denise wiped the tears away and took in a few deep breaths. “But strangely, I feel better about my life all of a sudden. I’ll be in the breakroom if anyone needs me.”
As Denise walked away from the desk, where the three nurses were still chuckling, she made a mental note: do not attempt social media. Which really wasn’t much of an issue for her anyway, except for Pinterest. She loved skimming the recipes. Not that she had the time, energy, or desire to cook real meals. Maybe if she had someone to share the food with, she’d be inspired to try some. As it was, cooking for one didn’t require a lot of thought.
Pop a DiGiorno in the oven and twenty minutes later—better than delivery.
The break room was empty and Denise grabbed a packet of Pop-Tarts—unfrosted of course—and dropped onto the sagging couch. She never noticed the beeps and hisses of the machines while on the floor. After all these years, it was white noise. But the minute she walked into the deserted lounge the quiet enveloped her, at times almost stifling and at others calming her nerves, allowing her to center her mind and energy. A must to survive the busy shifts in the emergency department.
Today it brought peace. They told you not to get emotionally attached to patients, yet it was hard, especially with the kids. And Johnny . . . well, he’d stolen her heart the first time he’d been brought in. He’d fallen off a ladder while trying to take Christmas lights off the front of his house. His mom had been at work and he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d looked up at Denise from beneath those ridiculously long dark lashes and said he was trying to help, so his mom could relax when she came home. How could her heart not go out to him?
The story of his dad had done more than touch Denise’s heart; it had ripped it to shreds and reminded her of how lucky she was to have all her family. It left an overwhelming need to hear her mom’s voice, see her sisters, and feel her dad’s strong arms around her. She made a quick call to her mom, left a message when voice mail came on. Next she shot off a couple of texts to the not-so-forgotten middle child, Elysia, and the baby, Rhachel, asking when they were free for a girls’ night out. Both lived within ten minutes of her, but their schedules kept them miles apart. Because she knew her dad, who worked as an airport ramp agent, wouldn’t be able to take her call, she made a note to pick up flowers and stop by to see her parents over the weekend.
Nibbling on the pastry, she pulled up her e-mail and worked her way through sales notices, sexual stimulant ads, and invitations to engage in illicit affairs. The last e-mail in her box had one of those oddly familiar names she couldn’t place right away. For several minutes she racked her brain trying to put a face with the name or at least place how she knew them. Her finger hovered over the Delete button as she debated whether to Open or Discard.
“What the heck,” she said to no one in particular and held her breath as she clicked open the message. Her eyes locked on the first line.
Dear Denise, Congratulations! You’ve been selected to be the next Mrs. Right on Finding Mr. Right.
Wow! Really?
She had put the show out of her mind. Who wouldn’t have, after six months of not hearing anything? And, well, a few months ago she’d thought her days of being single had ended. As evidenced by the no social life and volunteering to work on Valentine’s Day, things hadn’t worked out as she’d hoped. A quick scan of the contents had her heart pounding, her palms sweating, and her stomach jumping up and down. Basically, it was like her first day as an intern--scared spitless and as excited as a kid on her first trip to Disneyland.
A second read-through and she noted the schedule. Filming began in three weeks. A crew would arrive in two weeks to film her intro, as they wanted to capture the “real” her, both at home and work. She would need to read the attached contract. Sign it. Complete the nondisclosure, eligibility, and release forms. Sign them. Complete the medical history form—easy-peasy. Sign it—okay, she got it, sign her life away. She couldn’t pull up all the documents on her antique phone, but she got the feeling her head would spin when she did. Three weeks didn’t leave a lot of time to put your life on hold. Good thing she didn’t really have a life and had a lot of vacation days saved up. Not to mention shop for a new wardrobe and lose those ten stubborn pounds.
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Jenna poked her head into the breakroom.
Denise waved her in and put her finger to her lips. “You’re never going to believe this.” She filled her friend in on the e-mail contents while keeping an eye on the door to make sure no one else popped in. “So, what do you think? Should I go?”
Over the summer it had seemed like a great idea. Take a little break from the monotony of work. Hang out by the pool. Go on surreal dates with gorgeous men who were hot for her. Travel to exotic locations. Find someone to share her life with without all the fuss and muss of blind dates or hanging out in bars. Now? She was torn. Not that anything had really changed. One incredible weekend didn’t change the past or—clearly—her future.
“Yes! Are you crazy? First, you get to escape the cold because that stupid groundhog saw his shadow. We should feed him to the wolves. Second, you’d get to live in that amazing mansion with that beautiful pool. Not to mention you’ll go on cool, fun dates and visit new places. Why would you say no?”
“I don’t know about that. According to the e-mail, they’re moving to a mansion in the San Francisco area for a change of pace and scenery. It can still be pretty cold there in March.” The second question was the issue, and while it was easy, it wasn’t simple. Mainly, her job. She’d worked long and hard to finish her internship and residency at the hospital. “What if they won’t give me a leave of absence? Then I’m out of a job and there’s no guarantee he’ll be the guy of my dreams.”
“You won’t know unless you go. Unless you’re still hung up on Brody.”
“What?” Her head reared back and she looked at her friend like she’d lost her mind. “Why would you think that?”
“Oh, come on, Denise. I know he was the guy from the wedding who you spent the weekend with in October.” Jenna popped the last piece of Denise’s Pop-Tart in her mouth and gave her a look, daring her to deny it.
“I never said it was Brody.”
“You never said it wasn’t.”
“Okay, so what? I spent a wonderful, romantic weekend with my ex-fiancé. And maybe I thought—hoped—it would be the start of us rebuilding our relationship. Obviously, by his silence, that isn’t what Brody was looking for.”
Jenna crossed the room and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, tossed Denise a fresh one, and grabbed one for herself. She took a couple of sips with a questioning look on her face. The woman was worse than an amateur sleuth in a cozy mystery when she didn’t know an answer.
“So he didn’t call you after the fact?”
“Nope.” Denise slunk down farther into the couch, knowing what was coming next.
“Did you call him?” her friend asked point-blank.
“It’s complicated.” Denise pulled the elastic out of her hair, ran her hands over her head, and rebound her ponytail, pulling it good and tight.
“No, it’s not. Hon, you walked out on him the first time. Doesn’t it make sense that he might have been waiting for you to call? For you to show that this was more than a weekend fling?”
Denise hung her head between her pulled-up knees and groaned. She’d been wondering about this very thing for months. Hearing her friend say the obvious out loud made her feel like a scared idiot.
“If you’re going to go on the show, you need to make sure your heart is available, my friend.”
“What are you suggesting, o wise one?” She pretty much knew, but it was always good to get a second opinion.
“You know you need to see Brody, because I think he’s the one. Either complete the circle and move on, allowing yourself an honest chance with Mr. Right, or try to work things out with your ex. I vote for option two.”
Jenna made it all sound so simple. Nothing with Brody had ever been simple and Denise didn’t believe in soul mates. Yes, the man drove her nuts—in all the right and the wrong ways. Passionate, honest, fun, loyal to a fault. Yet stubborn as a mule and when mad, a jackhammer couldn’t get through the walls he threw up. None of that meant he was the only guy for her. Denise dropped her head back against the couch as she thought about all that had gone on in the past few months and years—they had a complicated history—and made her decision. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her phone, typed a response, and hit Send.
“What did you just do?” Jenna asked.
“I told them I couldn’t be more thrilled to participate.” She shrugged her shoulders as she stood up. “Maybe I’ll find my dream guy, maybe not. I don’t believe Brody and I are meant to be together. We had our chances. If I’m wrong, maybe this will get him up off his duff and come after me for once.”
“And work?”
“I’m on my way to Simon’s office now. Wish me luck.”
She practically bounced down the hall to her supervisor’s office. Denise gave him the rundown of the offer, reminded him of her accrued leave and, a few minutes later, had his reassurance that it shouldn’t be a problem.
~*~
Brody smiled as he listened to his mom rant about his lifestyle. It was an old argument, one he heard at least once a week and one he knew was delivered out of love and not disappointment.
“Mom, I’m fine—”
“Brody Andrew Nichols, wipe that smile off your face and stop mollifying me. You need a life. Working sixty-plus hours a week, an occasional barbeque with the boys, or a quick game of lacrosse before you return to your office isn’t living.”
“How do you know I’m smiling?”
“I’m your mom. I know all.”
“Really? What’re the winning Lotto numbers?”
“Don’t sass me, young man.”
“Mom, you do know I’m thirty-two, right?” By the silence on the other end, he knew he had pushed her buttons. “Okay, then I’ll ask you an easy one. What’s the secret to a good life?”
“Unconditional love. Which, at the rate you’re going, you’ll never know.”
His smile deepened. She’d hit part one on the head but was so wrong on the second half. “Then I have a great life, because I have you and you’ve loved me unconditionally even when others didn’t.”
“That’s not enough. Someday I won’t be around and then who will you have? Jason and Dave will always be there for you, but they’re starting families of their own. Being alone is a lonely, sad way to live. It’s not really living, it’s existing, and don’t tell me you date because you don’t. Not really. You may go out once in a while, but when was the last time you went on a second date or a third? You need to get over Denise, honey. I know she was the love of your life, but that was five years ago. Or forget what happened and ask her for another chance.”
He didn’t want to talk about his ex-fiancée. Not now, not ever. And especially not with his mom or even his buds. “Who?” Hoping she’d get the hint. “I’m fine, Mom. When the time is right, I’ll find someone. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Yes, I do. It’s in my job description. It doesn’t matter how tall you are, how old you are; you’ll always be my baby and I love you.” He heard the love and concern in her voice and hated that he’d put the latter there.
“I know. How about I take my favorite girl to dinner on Sunday? Let me show you my appreciation and that I don’t work too much.”
He’d already made the reservation. When Brody was growing up, his dad had never done anything special for his mom for Valentine’s Day, unless you counted not using her as a punching bag that one day of the year.
“Can’t. That’s why I called.” His mother hesitated. “I already have a date.”
As a lawyer, he’d had very few things render him speechless. This news was in the top-ten category.
“Since when do you date, Mom?”
“Since a nice man asked me.”
“Who is it? Where did you meet him? What does he do?” He’d have a friend run the guy’s background. No way would he let his mom get hurt again. She was too trusting. Too tenderhearted, always looking for the good in people, and it nearly cost her her life.
“Baby, it’s just dinner.” After several long seconds of silence from Brody, she went on. “His name is Kevin Stewart. He’s widowed, with two grown kids—Kelly and KJ—originally from Chicago and is a chiropractor. We met when he attended my cooking classes at the community center.”
“How’d the wife die?” Brody scribbled the man’s info on a notepad.
A deep sigh met his question. “Really, Brody…”
“Fine. Raincheck, but I’m calling you at nine.” He hung up and stared at the note. He was happy for his mom. She’d spent way too many years with the bastard known as his father, then several more learning to be her own person again. If anyone deserved to find love it was his mom. And, well, his two best friends. It seemed as if in the last year everyone Brody knew had been given a second chance. Except him. Not that he wanted the complication of a love life or cared.
His office door clicked open and his secretary, Angie, walked in with a stack of mail. “Did your mom tell you her new beau is taking her to the White Horse Tavern over in Newport Sunday? They want to see if the place is haunted, like the rumors say.”
He took the bundle and set it on his desk, ignoring it. “Nope. We didn’t get that far.”
She cocked her hip and rested her hand. Great; he knew that pose and look. Time for round two of his weekly lecture.
“Probably because you were giving her a hard time, and don’t try to deny it. She’s right, you know. If you found a nice girl to settle down with, you wouldn’t work so much.”
“Were you listening in again, Angie? You know, you could have pulled up a chair, it would have been easier.”
“Don’t get fresh with me. There’s not another administrative assistant in the state who’d put up with your moodiness and you know it. Beside, we had a little chat before I transferred her call. She’s very excited about her date.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day. No one should be alone.” He thumbed through the correspondence, separating them into piles based on priority.
“Including you, Brody.”
“What are you saying? Are you finally ready to ditch your husband for me? Thirty years is a long time to be with one person. We can sail around the world and see the Seven Wonders. Just say the word.”
His secretary, who was around his mother’s age and more like a second mom to him than an assistant on most days, turned several shades of red as she smacked him on the arm with her tablet.
“You’re going to have to wait a bit longer. His insurance doesn’t pay out the big bucks for a few more years. Until then, don’t forget to call Mr. Padgett back about the case. He has some questions for you.” She stopped as she headed toward the door. “Oh, almost forgot. You’ve got a new client showing up at six. I’m leaving now to prepare for my trip to Boston with the hubby, so don’t forget to listen for the door. Name is Sanders but didn’t want to discuss any details other than to say it was a consult.”
“Thanks, Ang. Have a good time.”
He knew she would too, for Angie was the type who never let life get her down, always found the positive side of everything, and was still madly in love with her husband after all these years. It probably didn’t hurt that her husband worshipped her, treated her like a queen. Maybe this Kevin guy would be the one for his mom, the man to see the wonderful, loving woman who’d raised him, defended him, and made sure he and his two buddies stayed out of trouble. His mom was the sweetest woman he knew, and the fear of bringing any more pain into her life had kept him on the straight and narrow growing up. Not that it had stopped him from a few scrapes here and there.
Kind of hard to avoid with a friend like Dave.
Not that Brody or Jase were angels either. Not by a long shot, but at least the two of them knew when to keep their mouths shut.
Brody pulled up his e-mail and shot off a note to another friend who worked at the Bureau and could run a quick check on one Kevin Stewart for him. Trust in his mom’s judgment had nothing to do with it. Some people were too important to take risks with. He’d do anything to keep his mom safe and happy.
The outer door clicked shut and heavy footsteps made their way to his office door. Must be his new client. He’d stood to meet him at the door when a familiar laugh had him dropping back in his seat. He sat back and waited.
“See, I told you he’d still be working.” Dave “Fubar” Farber walked through the door first and plopped into the visitor chair across from him.
“And, as usual, you’re not,” Brody fired back. He turned to his other best friend, Jason “Cupid” Valentine. “What brings you two by?”
“Yeah, well, I bet when we deposit the final payment on the job we just completed you won’t be complaining, Bro.” Dave propped his foot up on the edge of the desk and dared Brody to complain.
Instead, Brody ignored him. “You finished the Downing job early?” he asked of Jason.
“What can I say? The stars were in alignment and Mr. and Mrs. Downing are very satisfied with their new kitchen and master suite, which means Monday we can contact Dr. Cherko to see if he wouldn’t mind us starting early on his expansion.” Jason sat on the edge of the low-rise bookcase next to the desk.
“You should take a long weekend and celebrate with your ladies.” Brody glanced at his wristwatch, noting his new client was late.
“Cherry’s got homework,” Jason said.
“Work for Tawny,” David added.
“Business has really picked up in the last six months. Looks like the work on the rec center paid off. You two ready to buy me out yet?”
“Never,” both guys responded in unison.
“Cherry wants you to come over Sunday for a barbeque to celebrate finishing the job.” Jason tapped his fingers in a steady rhythm against his legs as he looked out the window.
“Are you sure you deserve the nickname Cupid? You know Sunday is Valentine’s Day, right? Plus, it’s the middle of winter in New England. Your grill is three feet deep in snow.” Brody shook his head in disbelief.
“Of course I know what day it is. The women have something planned. A surprise. And it includes you,” Jason said.
“Don’t look at me. You’re the last person I want to spend the evening with,” Dave groused.
Brody had a feeling he knew what the women were up to—a setup with one of their friends. Nice gesture. Not happening. “Tell them thanks, but I’ve got other plans.”
“Breaking out the blow-up girlfriend again?” Dave blew him a kiss, smirking because he knew the desk kept Brody from pounding him. He’d always been like that.
Brody flipped his friend off and told him what he could do with his suggestion.
“I know you’re not taking your mom out. She’s got a real date.”
“How do you know about it already?” Brody asked.
“Stopped by earlier to wish her a happy Valentine’s and give her flowers and chocolate.” Jason continued drumming his fingers against his thigh. A sure sign something was on his mind that bothered him.
“You always were a suck-up, Cupid.”
“And you used to have a sense of humor. Want to tell us what really happened at my wedding? Because you’ve been a prick ever since.”
“Nothing happened. Nothing important.” Brody turned back to his computer, pulled up a client file, and glared at the screen. No way would either drop the subject, but they could tough it out. He wasn’t talking.
“Told you.” Dave jumped up out of the chair and headed for the door.
Jason didn’t move for several long seconds. When he pushed away from the bookcase he wore an annoying half grin, like he knew Brody’s secret.
“You hear that, Fubar?” Jason called after Dave. “Nothing important has knocked the mighty Brody Nichols off his game.” Jason stopped long enough to get Brody’s attention. “Lacrosse, tomorrow at noon. Prepare to have your ass handed to you.”
Brody ignored the two of them as they left. He had more imperative things to focus on, like work. He also knew if he felt like talking about his feelings—which he didn’t— the guys would be there for him. Shoving unwanted thoughts and memories away, he picked up the phone to call his client back to let him know the defendant settled out of court. At least Padgett and his wife would have a good weekend. The outside door opened again. Figuring the guys had forgotten to razz him about something, he held off hitting the last number.
“Go away. I’m working,” he called out.
“Is that how you greet all of your appointments?”
His head jerked up, the receiver dropped back to the base, and for the second time that day, Brody Nichols had the surprise of his life. He looked at the woman standing in the open doorway and his gaze dropped to her stomach.
“Are you pregnant?” he asked.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
