Chapter 40 #2
“That’s a load of horseshit. You were the team leader, not God. You couldn’t have done any better than you did. You saved Kent’s life. He probably wonders what he did wrong to have you ignore him.” There was a pause. “Just like I have.”
Damn, those words landed hard.
“How do you know it wasn't my fault?”
“Because I've spent thirty years in leadership positions.
I've sent good men into bad situations and watched some of them not come home.
It's the worst part of the job, but it's still the job.
And the fact that you've been carrying this guilt for four years tells me everything I need to know about the kind of leader you were.”
All this time, I'd been terrified of his disappointment, and he'd already figured out the truth.
“I should have called sooner.”
“Yes, you should have. But you're calling now, and that's what matters.”
I could hear him moving around, probably pacing his study the way he always did when he was thinking through a problem.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked suddenly.
The question caught me off guard. “What? Like a psychologist? No.”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you seeing a woman? Are you dating anyone?”
“Yeah, actually. It’s kind of new, but she’s everything. Her name's Joy.”
“That explains a lot.”
My lips twitched. Yep, my father was one smart bastard.
“Tell me about her.”
And just like that, we were talking. Really talking.
I told him about Joy, about Miss Laverne.
Fuck, I even told him about Little Grandma and how she had me married off.
He laughed his ass off. He told me about retirement, about a small house he’d bought in Florida that he went to in the winters, and a boat that he got that he named after Mom.
“I love you, son,” he said finally. “I should have said that more when you were growing up.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
“When can I meet this woman of yours?”
I glanced toward the bedroom, where Joy was probably engrossed in the good parts. “Soon. She'd like you.”
“If she can put up with your stubborn ass, I already like her.”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in years. “She's got plenty of practice dealing with difficult men.”
“Like I said, I like her. You better not screw this up.”
“I'm trying not to.”
“Good. Now tell me more about Jasper Creek. I’ve got to know the lay of the land before I come out for a visit.”
“Would you just pick something?” I asked Joy.
I winced. I hadn’t meant for those words to come out of my mouth, and certainly not in that tone.
We'd been walking through this maze of overpriced couches and chairs for two hours, and Joy was no closer to making a decision than when we'd started five hours ago at the first furniture store. Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled that she had so much energy after all she’d been through, but this? Seriously, now I wanted to be shot.
“This is only the third store,” Joy said cheerfully, running her hand over the arm of yet another sectional sofa. “And this one's nice. Good fabric, solid construction.”
“It's beige.”
“Oatmeal.”
“It’s not leather.”
She arched her eyebrow at me. We’d been having this same conversation for hours.
I stared at the couch that looked exactly like every other couch we'd examined today. Neutral colors. Plush cushions. The kind of furniture that screamed suburban family life and weekend trips to Home Depot.
“I thought you had opinions about this stuff,” I muttered.
“I do. I have very strong opinions about not buying the first thing we see.”
“We're not buying the first thing we see. We're buying the forty-seventh thing we see.”
Joy laughed and moved to the next display. A sectional in what the tag called “charcoal gray” but looked suspiciously black to me.
“Joy, come look at this lamp!” The voice carried from three aisles over, followed by the sound of heels clicking on polished concrete.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “Did you have to bring Emmie?”
“She offered to help.”
“This is worse than rolling my truck.”
“Don't be a baby.”
But Emmie's presence turned furniture shopping into a group activity that involved way too much discussion about throw pillows and accent colors. Every decision required a committee vote, and I was definitely outnumbered.
“This lamp is perfect for that corner by the window,” Emmie called again. “You have to see this.”
I looked at Joy, who was already heading toward Emmie's voice. “Do I have to see this?” I prayed she’d say no.
“Yes, you have to see this.” She grabbed my hand, and I followed her to the lamp section.
We passed through a maze of furniture displays, dining sets, bedroom suites, and enough decorative accessories to make my eyes bleed.
No wonder I’d never gone furniture shopping.
Emmie stood next to a floor lamp that looked like a designer had stolen some parts from a whorehouse.
“Isn't this gorgeous?” Emmie gestured at the lamp like she was presenting a prize on a game show. “The brushed nickel finish will go with everything, and the shade gives off such warm light.”
Joy nodded appreciatively. “It's beautiful.”
I shuddered.
“Maybe we should keep looking,” I said.
Both women turned to look at me with expressions that suggested I'd just insulted their mothers.
“Now that we find the perfect thing, you finally have an opinion. You don’t understand. It’s a statement piece,” Emmie explained with exaggerated patience. “It sets the mood for the entire room.”
“The mood for sex,” I grumbled. Then I brightened. “Actually, we should get it.”
“Graham.” Joy's voice carried a warning. “Be nice.”
My phone rang before I could dig myself deeper into this particular hole. Simon's name flashed on the screen, and I'd never been happier to take a phone call in my life.
“How's it going?” Simon asked, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.
I stepped away from the girls so they couldn’t hear me. “I'm in furniture shopping hell. Send backup.”
“That bad?”
“We've been to three stores. They're debating lamp shades. I'm about to fake a medical emergency.”
Simon laughed. “Hang in there, Graham. It'll be over soon.”
“Not soon enough.”
I glanced at Joy and Emmie, who were now examining throw pillows like they were a new weapons system. Joy held up two pillows that looked identical to me but apparently must have been different somehow.
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
“I’ve got to get the hell out of here,” I told Simon, my voice desperate.
I ended the call and walked back to where Joy was testing the softness of couch cushions. She looked up at me with those blue eyes that still knocked the breath out of me.
“Everything okay?”
“No, actually. Something came up, and Simon needs me at the office. It’s about that new case. I’m really sorry about this.”
“Oh no. I hope it’s nothing bad.” Joy’s big blue eyes gave me a concerned look. Emmie squinted at me suspiciously.
“It’s just something that he thinks I can handle quickly, and he really wants my help. You know I owe him, baby.”
“Absolutely,” Joy agreed.
“I don’t want to ruin your shopping trip. Emmie, could you take Joy home after you’re done?” She was still giving me the stink-eye. I pulled out my wallet and handed Joy my credit card.
“What's this for?”
“Buy whatever you want. I trust you.” I pointed at Emmie. “You, I don’t trust.”
Joy giggled. I gave her a kiss that soon turned heated, then I broke away. “Be good. And remember, make the house exactly how you want it.”
I watched her eyes soften.
I wanted Joy to have a home that was truly ours. A place where we could build the life I'd never thought I deserved until she crashed into my world and changed everything.