Sharing was as much a part of the culture of Fool’s Gold as showing up with a casserole when there was a birth, death or serious illness. She might not want to reveal every detail of her upcoming encounter with a man from her past, but that wasn’t her decision.
Patience made a quick stop in the restroom to make sure she hadn’t spilled anything on her black T-shirt. She released her long brown hair from its ponytail, thought briefly that she should have gotten highlights, and worn makeup and hey, maybe been something more exciting than ordinary, then shrugged. She was who she was, and nothing short of serious plastic surgery and/or a makeover was going to change her now.
She applied lip gloss and brushed the front of her “Chez Julia” T-shirt one last time. Two minutes later she had her purse and was walking out onto the sidewalk.
Justice was still there. All six-two of him. He wore a dark suit, blinding white shirt and a smoky-gray tie.
“You weren’t this stylish a dresser fifteen years ago,” she said.
“Occupational hazard.”
“Which begs the question, what occupation? But that can wait.” She looked at him, trying to reconcile the man with the teenager she’d known and loved. Well, maybe not loved, but liked a lot. He’d been her first crush. She’d wanted to tell him, to have him for her boyfriend and then he’d been gone. “What happened?”
He glanced around. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.” She pointed down the street. “There’s a Starbucks this way.”
They started down the sidewalk. A thousand questions filled her mind, but she couldn’t seem to grab any one to ask it. She was both curious and shy—a combination that didn’t make for easy conversation.
“How long have you—”
“I would have thought you’d—”
They spoke at the same time.
She sighed. “We’ve lost our rhythm. That’s just so sad.”
“It’ll come back,” he assured her. “Give it a minute.”
They reached the Starbucks and he held open the door. She paused before stepping past him.
“You’re here for good?” she asked. “Or at least a while?”
“Yes.”
“No disappearing in the night?”
“No.”
She nodded. “I didn’t know what to think. I was so scared.”
His dark blue gaze settled on her face. “I’m sorry. I knew you’d be worried. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t.”
She saw a couple of older women approaching and ducked into the store. As she walked to the counter, she pulled out her Starbucks card, but Justice waved it away.
“I’m buying,” he told her. “It’s the least I can do after what happened.”
“Ha. Sure, bring me out for coffee instead of a steak when you’re doing apology buying.”
He flashed her a smile that was so familiar she felt her heart constrict. At the same time, she experienced a very distinct “wow—handsome guy” tingle in the area just south of her belly button. It had been so long it took her a second to recognize sexual attraction.
She was pathetic, she thought as she ordered her usual grande skinny vanilla latte. This was the closest she’d come to dating in the past five or six years. She really needed to get out more. And just as soon as she had a little free time, she would work on that.
“Tall drip,” Justice told the girl.
Patience rolled her eyes. “Very masculine. I’m not even surprised.”
He flashed her another smile. “I don’t strike you as the soy-chai-latte type?”
“No, but I’d pay to watch you drink one.”
“Not enough money in the world.”
They moved aside to wait for their orders, then took them over to a table in the corner.
“You probably want to sit with your back to the wall, right?” she asked, taking a seat that would allow him to do just that.
“Why would you think that?”
“Someone said you’re a bodyguard. Is it true?”
He settled across from her, his broad shoulders and large frame seeming to challenge the space around them.
“I work for a company that provides protection,” he admitted.
She sipped her coffee. “You can’t just say yes?”
“What?”
“The answer is yes. Wouldn’t that be easier than telling me you work for a company that provides protection?”
He leaned toward her. “Were you this much of a pain in the ass when we were kids?”
She grinned. “I’ve mellowed with age.” She raised her latte. “Welcome back, Justice.”
* * *
PATIENCE’S BROWN EYES danced with amusement, just as Justice remembered. She’d gotten a little taller and had filled out in fascinatingly female ways, but otherwise she was the same. Sassy, he thought. Not a word he would have used as a teenager, but one that suited her perfectly now. The Patience he recalled had been all attitude and blunt talk. It looked as though that hadn’t changed.
She glanced around the coffee place and sighed. “There are, what, five million of these across the country? We need something different.”
“You don’t like Starbucks?”
“No,” Patience said as she sipped on her latte. “I adore Starbucks. We own stock and everything. But don’t you think a town like Fool’s Gold should have a local place, too? I would love to open my own coffee place. Silly, huh?”
“Why is it silly?”
“It’s not a big dream. Shouldn’t dreams be big? Like I want to end world hunger?”
“You’re allowed to dream for yourself.”
She studied him. “What do you dream about?”
He wasn’t much of a dreamer. He wanted what other people took for granted. The chance to be like everyone else. Only that wasn’t going to happen.
“Ending world hunger.”
She laughed. The happy sound took him back in years to when they’d been kids together. He’d been forced to lie every second of every day. He’d been discouraged from making friends and fitting in too much, but he’d
