The car made a right-hand turn and slowed. At his side, Ryan muttered, “Is that Kendrick we just passed on a bike?”
Mitch didn’t open his eyes. The last thing he wanted to see was someone having fun.
“I think so,” Kate said from the backseat. “And there’s your daughter ahead. They are two peas in a pod, aren’t they?”
“I told him to stay away from her. The son of a bitch doesn’t listen.”
Kate sighed. “She likes him, Ryan. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is from the other side. He flirts with her.”
“She’s almost a teenager. Get used to it. Lots of boys are going to be flirting with her soon.”
“Not full-grown men.”
“Maybe he just likes kids.”
“Maybe it’s just wrong.”
Kate let out an exasperated sound. “Mitch, was he always like this with Julia? Overprotective and unreasonable?”
“Always,” Mitch said, his eyes still closed. “And I’m with him on this one. Kendrick’s a player. He might not be interested in Julia now, but give him eight years. Or six.”
“Do not even joke about that,” Ryan warned.
A tiny smile tugged at Mitch’s mouth. The first one he’d felt in days. But it quickly faded when he thought of Shannon and the fact he wanted to be that for her. Not exactly the domineering father Ryan was, but her dad, yeah. Worrying over her like any real dad would.
The car made another right turn, and something about the direction Ryan was heading felt off. Slowly, Mitch’s eyelids lifted, and he looked out the windshield.
He stiffened in the front seat, and the motion caused a stab of pain to slink up his side. “I thought we were going to your house?”
“Pit stop first,” Ryan said.
Unease floated through Mitch’s gut. “I’m not really in the mood to see my place.”
Shit, was Ryan trying to depress him more? The last thing he needed on top of a gunshot wound—two gunshot wounds—and a broken heart was to see his house, the house he’d remodeled with his own two hands, full of holes he didn’t have the strength to fix.
“Pull up your big-girl panties, Mathews. You might be surprised at what you find.”
Ryan made the last turn, and Mitch tensed as his house came into view. But instead of bullet holes and broken windows, what he saw sent a flutter of surprise straight through his belly.
New windows, new trim, new siding, even a fresh coat of paint. The porch that had been damaged had been rebuilt. The bushes he knew had been trampled, replaced. There was a new front door, this one black, trendy, the kind of door he’d been looking for for months but hadn’t been able to find, with three small panes of glass across the top. Someone had even mowed the lawn.
Ryan pulled to the curb and killed the engine. Shocked, Mitch looked from the contractor’s van parked in the drive to the house, unable to believe it was the same place. “How did you—?”
“Surprise,” Ryan said.
Voices echoed behind their car, but Mitch was still too focused on the house to turn and look. Laughing, Kate popped the door and hollered at Julia and Kendrick, who went whizzing by on their bikes.
“I…don’t know what to say,” Mitch said to Ryan when they were alone.
“Don’t say anything to me. I didn’t do this.”
Mitch dragged his gaze from the house and finally looked at his best friend. “My parents?”
Ryan shook his head. “Not Katie either. Though when she found out about it, it was all I could do to keep her from spilling the beans.” He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into Mitch’s lap. “This time, don’t fuck things up, okay?”
Mitch stared down at the small, black velvet box in his hand, having trouble processing Ryan’s words. Before his brain could click into gear, Ryan opened the door and climbed out of the car.
“Oh, and one more thing, Mathews. When you go in there, cut the woman a little slack. She’s kicked some serious ass this week while you’ve been parked on yours. And she did it all spending every damn night in your hospital room, sleeping on that uncomfortable couch while you were high on painkillers. I wouldn’t have done it, even if you did kiss me. She’s a keeper. But then, I’m pretty sure you already know that.”
Ryan closed the door, shouted something at Kendrick Mitch couldn’t make out, then took off across the street. Silence settled over the inside of the car. A silence that was broken only by the sudden pounding in Mitch’s ears. Slowly, he popped the top on the small box and looked down at the engagement ring he’d bought for Simone and never given her.
His gaze shot back up to the house. And, adrenaline surging, he found a strength he was pretty sure he’d lost the last few days.
It took him longer than he liked to walk up the path, and he was sweating by the halfway mark. Pausing to catch his breath, he looked up at the house. Before he could take another step, red curls filled his vision, and a small voice exclaimed, “Mitch!”
Shannon rushed toward him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held on tight. Her arm knocked into the bandage on his side, and he winced, but the pain was worth it. Warmth flooded his chest. He wanted to drop to his knees, take her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure he could get back up if he did. And he didn’t want to look pathetic.
He rubbed a hand over her hair and smiled down at her. “Hey, you. Miss me, did ya?”
Shannon laughed and looked up at him. “Yes. We had so much fun. We went swimming and snorkeling and got to sleep on this really cool boat. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
And Mitch couldn’t wait to hear it. But he needed to make it inside the house. Pulse racing, he looked back up at the open front door, not wanting to be disappointed, not wanting to hope too much. “Is your mom in there?”
“Yeah, Mom’s been bossing people around all morning. Man, your house was such a mess! Whoever broke in did all kinds of damage. It’s a good thing you weren’t home. I mean, there were holes everywhere.”
Shannon’s hurried voice echoed in Mitch’s ears, but all he could focus on was the fact Simone was here. She hadn’t left San Francisco. She hadn’t run away. She was still here, and that meant—maybe—they had a chance.
A lump formed in his throat, and he pushed his feet forward. Sweat slicked his spine when he got to porch, but excitement urged him on. Keeping his good arm wrapped around Shannon while she continued to babble on about her trip, he stepped through the open door, barely able to believe the change.
The house looked exactly the way it had before. Someone had even reframed his signed Mariner’s jersey that had fallen off the wall in the entry and crashed to the ground in a pile of glass during the attack.
Voices echoed from the kitchen. A man’s. Simone’s.
His pulse skyrocketed.
Mitch headed that way, his heart pulling him, his pulse pounding. When he reached the great room, he froze.
Simone stood in the kitchen, pointing something out on the ceiling to a man wearing a ball cap and tool belt. The man answered whatever she asked, jotted a note, pointed at something else. And though Mitch could hear their words, he couldn’t focus on what they were saying. All he could see was her, standing in his kitchen, fixing what he’d broken, doing all this for him.
As if she sensed him, she turned abruptly. Shannon’s voice died off as he stood staring at her mother. Surprise flashed in Simone’s eyes, followed by… Yeah, that looked like excitement, didn’t it? “Mitch.”
The breathy cadence of her voice sent a shiver down his spine. God, he loved the sound of her voice. Loved the way she said his name. Missed it. So damn much.
The contractor turned too, said something Mitch didn’t catch. In a daze, Mitch lifted his good arm from Shannon in a pathetic wave. The man muttered something about the laundry room, then excused himself and disappeared down the hall.