at his age, Sarah Elizabeth, that he’s still an altar boy?
“Sorry. That didn’t exactly sound complimentary to the most important woman in my life, did it?”
“You’re a grown man and how you categorize a consenting relationship is your private business.”
“You’re right, Sarah. And after all these years I really should call her mi amorcito—Lord knows she’s earned the title of sweetheart.”
“Wait.” She halted their forward motion. “Who is this Alma to you?”
“She’s the woman who raised me and my three brothers when our parents were killed. She and her husband, Felix, stepped in and became our surrogate parents. They kept us on the straight and narrow to make sure none of us ended up in prison like our grandfather.”
“Your grandfather served time in prison?”
“That’s East Texas lore for another evening.” Cullen waved away the question. “I’ll be glad to share it with you over a glass of wine one night but Pap Temple’s story is old news that I’d rather not get into right this minute.”
The knowledge that Cullen’s grandfather had gone to prison took Sarah by surprise. She ought to do a little research or talk to her parents. Surely they’d remember the story of a man named Pap Temple if it was a part of the local history, as Cullen claimed.
“So, you were updating me on Rocket.”
Cullen’s exhausted smile said this was a more pleasant subject.
“The past two nights have been a challenge, but we’re managing. The poor little fella whimpers and kicks in his dreams, but I can survive a few weeks without REM sleep if lullabies and snuggles help him adjust. How could any man resist such a call to adventure.”
And how could any woman resist such a heartwarming image?
* * *
AS HE PUSHED the heavy security door open and held it wide for Sarah to exit the building, Cullen could only imagine what terrors might invade a puppy’s subconscious mind. But he had a sneaking suspicion they were akin to his own fears and hurts that had kept him from resting as a teen. Spooning Rocket close, rubbing his tummy and murmuring soft sounds every couple of hours seemed to give them both peace, and that was a fair trade for the whole pot of coffee he’d have to consume in the morning to keep himself awake.
“It was so kind of you to rescue that puppy, Cullen. You’re Hope’s new hero.”
“Speaking of your girls, how about bringing them to my house for a barbecue this weekend?”
A crease formed between her auburn brows as she answered. “You’re so kind to offer, and I’m tempted to accept. I’m just not sure that’s such a great idea.”
“What concerns you about a picnic?”
“How much time do you have?”
“As much as you want, my friend.”
They stepped out into the muggy evening that was still lit by the waning summer sun. He sunk down on a nearby marble bench and Sarah joined him.
Her blue eyes searched his face, maybe for a clue about how much to say.
“So talk,” he encouraged. The woman carried a lot on her slender shoulders and it didn’t come as a surprise that she had to consider emotional burdens carefully.
“Each of my girls is a needy mess.”
“Aren’t all kids?”
“By nature, yes. But losing their daddy and then our home—”
“Wait.” He placed a hand on the small of her back, the touch intended to be comforting and nothing more. “You lost your home?”
She nodded, a sad smile curving her lips.
“There was a mountain of medical bills and most of Joe’s life insurance went to cover that obligation. There was no chance I could manage the mortgage on my salary, so we sold the house and moved into an apartment. We’re comfortable, but there’s nothing cushy about our lifestyle.”
“From what I’ve observed, your girls are part of a loving family and that’s more valuable than stuff.”
“Thirty-somethings understand that, but try to explain to a tween that not owning an iPad builds character.”
“So how does that translate into a barbecue at Chez Cullen being a bad idea?”
“Oh, it’s a wonderful idea! I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“Then what?”
“That’s the question that worries me.”
Cullen scrunched his brow and exaggerated a squint to show his confusion.
“If we come for an afternoon, then what? My girls have all learned to compartmentalize their emotions, but it’s not been easy. One afternoon of fun at a male friend’s house could create expectations on their part. It’s not fair to ask you to deal with the fallout.”
He moved his hand from her back to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“How about if you let me handle the fallout, as you call it. Growing up in a house with four rambunctious boys has made me fairly resilient.”
“I’m just warning you, young females are different animals. They think and react in unexpected ways.”
“So having three of them is sorta like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates?”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“You never know what you’re gonna get,” they replied in unison.
He held up a three-fingered Boy Scout salute.
“I solemnly pledge to accept all responsibility for the outcome of a pool party.”
“That’s a grave oath you just made, Dr. Temple. When you say your prayers tonight you’d best ask for a special layer of protection for your life and property.”
“Come on,” he chided. “How much damage can little girls do?”
“And as long as you’re already on your knees, ask for protection for your heart, too.”
She was trying to make light of the situation, but she’d done her best to spell it out and give him fair warning. Well, he’d keep that in mind.
But for now he and Rocket had a barbecue to plan. He needed to test the waters, find out if he would sink or swim in a chaotic environment, even if he found he was already in over his head.
“WHAT ON EARTH was I thinking, Rocket?”
Cullen
