Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES AFTER they arrived at Marley’s childhood home, Caleb was regretting his decision to join her. He should have stayed back at the Strathorn house. But he hadn’t wanted to leave her side, especially with the chance that Grier was keeping tabs on her. Away from the safety of her home, Marley made an easy target, and Caleb refused to let her out of his sight.
But he knew he was totally out of his element here. He was a trained government agent. He’d arrested, interrogated and physically struggled with the slime of the world. Yet he was intimidated by a twenty-four-year-old guy in surf shorts and a salt-and-pepper-haired father in the process of showing off a castle he’d built.
Out of Popsicle sticks.
“It’s…interesting,” Caleb remarked as he stared, stupefied, at the structure.
The castle was about two feet wide and three feet tall, made up of hundreds—no, had to be in the thousands—of little wooden sticks. Some were intact, creating walls and turrets. Others had been cut to accommodate little windows and doors. Oh, and a drawbridge. Who could overlook the drawbridge?
Next to him, Marley seemed to be fighting a grin. “Dad’s very passionate about his hobby.”
Sam Sr. lovingly picked up his creation from the crate it had been sitting on and set it on one of the long work tables in the garage. His brown eyes, the same shade as his daughter’s, were animated. “My best one yet, don’t you think, honey?”
“Definitely,” she agreed.
Marley’s dad linked his arm through hers and led her out of the garage. Caleb trailed after them as they stepped onto the driveway. He kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, determined to stay on guard during this visit.
His gaze focused on the intertwined arms of Marley and her father, and he was unable to stop the envy that rolled around in his chest. He could tell just by looking at them that they were close. And the way Sam Sr.’s eyes filled with warmth each time he looked at his daughter was almost painful to watch. Caleb had never had anything even close to that growing up. He’d known families like this existed, but he hadn’t seen it up close before.
They walked around the side of the sprawling, Spanish-style bungalow and stepped into the spacious backyard. The grass was perfectly mowed, colorful flowers popped up around the perimeter, and the array of birdhouses and feeders hanging from the trees made Caleb smile. Evidently one of her father’s hobbies had rubbed off on Marley.
Sam was manning the barbecue, flipping burgers with a spatula. He glanced up at their approach and grinned at his sister. “It’s your turn to set the table, kiddo.”
Marley let go of her dad’s arm and took a step toward the patio door. “I’ll help you,” Caleb offered.
“No, sit down, relax,” she called over her shoulder.
As Marley darted into the house, Caleb awkwardly crossed the stone patio and sank into one of the chairs by the large table. Marley’s dad joined him. The older man settled into his chair, then fixed a frown in Caleb’s direction. “So. Marley mentioned you’re a writer?”
“Yes, sir.” He swallowed, wondering why the lie that had come so easily a week ago now stuck in his throat.
“My wife was a writer,” the older man revealed.
“Really? What did she write?”
“Articles, mainly. She freelanced for some of the top home and garden magazines in the country.” Marley’s father swept his arm in the direction of the garden. “This garden was her showpiece.”
“There was even a feature about it in Good Housekeeping,” Marley chimed in, coming outside in time to hear her father’s remark. She set four plates on the table, along with drinking glasses, utensils and a tray of condiments, then flopped down in the chair next to Caleb’s.
“The garden is really pretty,” Caleb remarked. “Who maintains it?”
“I do,” Sam Sr. answered with a proud smile. “Before Jessie passed, I promised her I would do right by her babies.” He winked. “The kids and the flowers.”
“Well, you’re doing a good job,” Caleb said, and meant it.
“Food’s ready,” Sam boomed from across the patio. A moment later, he strode across the pink and gray stones and dropped a platter of burgers on the table.
Despite the fact that he’d eaten breakfast only two hours earlier, Caleb’s mouth watered at the aroma of ground beef and melted cheese. Marley’s brother joined them at the table, and the four of them didn’t say much as they fixed their burgers and settled back to eat.
Caleb’s eyes met Marley’s. He found himself fighting a grin when he noticed a splotch of ketchup at the corner of her mouth.
Her brother noticed, too, and guffawed. “We eat food here, not wear it.”
Shooting her brother a dirty look, Marley reached for a napkin and wiped demurely at her mouth. “Can it, Sammy.”