Chapter 8 Shocking Photograph
Sunday
A.J. sat up, stretching his arms over his head and twisting from side to side to pop his back. Then he climbed out of bed and moved across the hotel room to the desk. Turning on his laptop, he opened the browser and pulled up the website of his new favorite church.
Anytime he had to be out of town over the weekend, he still made a point of attending church, usually online like he was doing this morning.
A countdown timer flashed across the screen, ticking off the minutes until the Sunday morning service began.
While he waited, he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth and returned to change into the outfit he’d be wearing to Diamondback.
He’d packed the black all-weather gear that served as the semi-official uniform at Lonestar Security.
It consisted of a long-sleeve, low-moisture shirt tucked into cargo pants and combat boots.
He tugged a utility vest over it, which easily hid the bulge of the gun holster strapped beneath his shirt.
Last but not least, he reached for the black ball cap bearing the Lonestar logo.
And couldn’t bring himself to put it on.
What he was wearing reminded him too much of the camouflage uniform he’d worn while in the military—everything but the color.
It was comfortable, practical, and durable.
It got the job done. However, like the patches and badges that had once earmarked him as government property, the Lonestar logo made him feel like he was simply another gear in a much bigger machine.
He’d left all that behind the day he’d signed his retirement paperwork, and he didn’t want to do it again. He was more sure of it now than ever. It was funny how a simple logo on a ball cap had finally driven the point home. He valued his independence too much to give it up again. He’d earned it.
Tossing the ball cap on the sink cabinet, he exited the bathroom without it, convinced that he needed to remain his own boss.
Not only did it better suit his style, it positioned him to be whatever Aurora needed him to be.
She was his team now. He would need to clear the matter up soon with the guys who owned Lonestar.
If he were lucky, they might agree to keep him on tap as a contract worker only.
He didn’t mind helping them out now and then.
He just didn’t want to be owned by them.
A glance at the timer on his computer screen told him he had less than a minute before the service began. Just enough time to make a cup of coffee with the single-serve machine resting above the mini-fridge. He shoved a cardboard cup beneath the spigot and mashed the START button.
While coffee trickled into the cup, a knock sounded on the door. He moved stealthily closer to look through the peephole and discovered Aurora standing on the other side.
He quickly pulled the door open. “Is everything okay?” She’d been out late the evening before, attending her friend’s wedding and reception. He hadn’t expected to see her this early. Yet here she was, fully dressed in a dark green sweater over jeans, looking ready to get to work.
“I’m not sure.” Without waiting for an invitation, she brushed past him, opening a small silver laptop as she walked over to his desk.
“Hold on.” He shut and bolted the door. “Before you show me whatever you came to show me, is it anything life-threatening?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, blinking in surprise. “Not imminently.”
He searched her lovely features. “Can it wait for an hour?”
She looked puzzled. “I suppose. Why?”
He pointed at his computer screen right as the service went live.
“Ah.” She finally understood. “You’re attending online church.”
“I am. Care to join me?” He pulled out the only desk chair and ushered her into it.
She left her laptop on the desk and wordlessly took a seat.
He sank down on the mattress behind her and scooted the chair closer, straddling it from behind. Wrapping his arms around her, he linked their hands together.
A few church announcements flashed across the screen, but the upcoming events being advertised didn’t apply to them.
Aurora shifted in her seat. “You might have already guessed this, but I didn’t attend church before I met you.”
He’d suspected as much. However, he’d caught her reading her Bible a few times in his apartment, and her engrossed expression had convinced him it wasn’t for show.
“I like attending church with you.” He raised one of their joined hands to point at his computer screen.
“This is how I usually do it when I’m on the road. ”
An address scrolled across the screen, making her catch her breath. “It’s the place we’ve been attending in Heart Lake! I didn’t realize they did livestreaming.”
“I only recently found out myself,” he admitted.
After a short pause, she asked, “Did you attend church while growing up?”
“Yep. Every Sunday.” His memories were filled with Sunday school events, church camp, and Christmas pageants; and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“My parents are good, old-fashioned Bible bangers. A bit on the straight-laced side, but you’ll enjoy meeting them.
” A warm feeling spread through him at the realization that they were having the meet-the-parents conversation.
She twisted around in her chair to look at him. “I would love to meet them, but…”
He drank in her loveliness. “But what?”
“Before now, you’ve only mentioned them in passing. Why is that?”
It was a fair question. “Out of habit, I guess. When you’re in law enforcement, you tend to distance yourself from those you care about to protect them.”
“No. You don’t.” Her vehement outburst caught him off guard. “I get protecting their names and whereabouts, but not the distancing part. If I were fortunate enough to still have parents in my life, it’s the last thing I would want.”
The faint tremor in her voice tugged at his heart. He hadn’t meant to make her sad. “You’re right. It was a poor choice of words on my part. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” A teasing note crept back into her voice as she faced the computer screen once again. “As long as you follow through with introducing me to your parents.”
“I will,” he promised huskily, leaning forward to press his cheek against hers. “You have my word.” It occurred to him that his parents would be every bit as thrilled about meeting her. They’d all but given up hope that he’d meet someone who’d make him happy again.
The announcement sequence on the screen faded, and the minister stepped in front of the camera. Though A.J. enjoyed the man’s opening remarks and the worship music that followed, he continued mulling over what Aurora had said.
It was insightful of her to notice how little he talked about his parents, and it wasn’t just because of his job.
If he was being perfectly honest, it was mostly because he was a widower.
After losing his wife, his parents had smothered him with sympathy, food, gifts, tears, and well-meaning advice that had hurt more than it had helped.
Their tears had eventually faded into encouragement for him to date again, which hadn’t helped any more than their sympathy had.
His way of coping had been by distancing himself from them.
It wasn’t necessarily right or fair. It was more of a survival mechanism, one that had allowed him to keep his head in the game as a military policeman.
It had worked, too, for seventeen years; but it was no longer necessary.
The realization burst over him like sunlight, making his heart feel lighter.
His parents weren’t just going to be happy when he brought Aurora to Oklahoma to meet them.
They were going to be over the moon with joy.
He made a mental note to give them a call next week to arrange his next visit home.
Aurora’s presence in his life would give them the assurance they’d been praying for—that he’d finally healed on the inside.
Aurora felt a little guilty about popping off at A.J. the way she had. He’d probably written it off as part of her grieving process for her own parents, but he still hadn’t deserved such harshness from her.
The moment the online service ended, she apologized. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you.”
He snorted and spun her chair around to face him. “Mean? When were you mean to me?”
“I shouldn’t have crabbed at you like that about your relationship with your parents.” She glanced guiltily away from him. “It’s not as if my relationship with my parents was perfect either.”
He raised her fingers to kiss them. “Is it something you want to talk about?”
The warm understanding in his coffee-brew gaze gave her the courage to continue. “I think I told you that Aaron and I are adopted.”
He nodded.
“We came from different families, but we were adopted around the same time.” The details surrounding their adoptions were a little fuzzy, since their parents hadn’t talked much about it.
There’d been no reason to. “I was seven-years-old. He was ten. To this day, I remember how excited I was to have an instant family, complete with an older brother. Instead of a crowded orphanage, my life became filled with normal things like birthday parties and sleepovers with friends.” But to her intense disappointment, her new normal hadn’t included doting parents.
Their adoptive parents had spent most of their time on the road, growing the bottom line for Diamondback Corporation, while leaving her and Aaron with various live-in nannies.
She described how her teen years had become a constant battle to gain the approval of her workaholic parents.
“They were so focused on college and career planning,” she sighed.
It hadn’t left much time for affection. “High test scores were celebrated. My hobby of mixing scents was not. The first time I mentioned my interest in becoming a perfumer, I thought my mom was going to pass out.”