Chapter Eight

The front door popped open, startling Jocelyn. She and Guy turned to find Will in the entry, a red bandanna wrapped around his head, a smudge of dirt on his white T-shirt, a look of horror on his face as he stared at Guy.

“Why are you crying?” he asked. He shifted his gaze to Jocelyn and she could read the question: Did you tell him where you’re sending him?

“Of course I’m crying, son!” Guy stood and ambled to William, arms outstretched. “You’ve seen the show! They don’t get the ratings if they can’t get the old farts to cry.”

Will looked at her. “So the whole Clean House thing is still going well?”

“It’s… going,” Jocelyn said.

“She’s gifting me with memories,” Guy said.

“She is?”

“And you know what she deserves, William?”

A whisper of a smile pulled at Will’s mouth, an old smile she recognized, one that always took her heart for a ride. He held up a bag. “Enchiladas from South of the Border. There’s beer in my fridge, too. Can you stay, Joss?”

A strange pressure squeezed Jocelyn’s chest. A longing to say yes, so real and strong and natural it nearly took her breath away. She really, really wanted to curl up and eat enchiladas with Will and Guy.

How insane and wrong was that? Wrong, on every level. “I promised Lacey I’d go over to her house tonight,” she said quickly, standing up. “But thank you.”

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Guy asked anxiously.

“I have some, uh, calls to make in the morning.” To assisted-living facilities. “Maybe later or the day after. Don’t make any messes while I’m gone, Guy.”

“I promise, Missy.” He broke away from Will and held out both arms. “Let me give you a hug.”

She froze. “That’s okay.”

“Come here.” He threw both arms around her and squeezed, moving his face to one side to give her a clear shot of Will, who just drank in the scene, clearly unsure what to make of it.

“Thank you,” Guy whispered in her ear, still loud enough for Will to hear and react with a raised eyebrow of surprise.

“Okay,” she said stiffly, backing away without returning the hug. She had her limits. “Bye, now.”

She headed for the door, snagging her bag from the planter where she’d set it out of years of habit.

“Let me walk you out,” Will said quickly.

“That’s okay.”

But he had one hand on the front door and one hand on the knob, enclosing her in the space between. He felt warm from sunshine and work, a smell that reminded her so much of when he’d come home from practice to find her holed up in his room, seeking shelter.

Softening, she looked up at him, fighting the urge to brush aside the lock of hair that had fallen over his eye.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, in barely more than a whisper and far too close to her ear.

She started to shake her head, but he was so close, so strong, so familiar. She nodded instead. “Let’s talk outside.”

They headed down the narrow front walk in silence as Jocelyn dug for the keys in her purse.

“Lacey’s probably wondering where I’ve been all this time,” she said. “Or did you tell her?”

Behind her, she heard him blow out a breath, making her turn as they reached the driver’s door of Jocelyn’s borrowed car.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“I told Tessa—”

“Oh, great.”

“Very little, Joss. Nothing about… history. I told her you were here and that your dad is sick and that you’re figuring out what to do.”

She nodded. “I’d have to tell her that much, anyway,” she said.

“You keep a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

“Yep, you’ve been talking to Tessa. She who hates secrets.”

“Well, she said she’s your best friend.”

“One of them, but even best friends don’t need to know everything.”

He took a step closer, heat rolling off his big body and the car right behind her, the Florida sun baking everything under it, even in November.

“You’re lucky,” he said after a minute.

“How’s that?”

“To have so many best friends.”

She smiled. “I know. I have three great ones.”

“Four.”

She frowned, not following. “Are you counting Clay as the husband of a best friend?”

“I’m counting me.”

The statement stole her breath for a second, leaving her without a quick reply.

“I was your best friend once.”

Was. Once. So much more.

“What happened, Jossie?”

Again, her breath got trapped, squeezing her chest. “You know what happened. I just had to…” Let you be free of me. “Move on.”

“What happened… after you left that night?”

“What happened?” He sure as hell really didn’t want to know, did he? This man who’d made every decision in his life based on loyalty and love, including the decision to help and care for a man who had once threatened to kill him?

No, he surely didn’t mean that. He meant why did she cut him out of her life. “College happened, Will.”

He put a hand on the roof of the car behind her, trapping her completely. “We have to talk.”

This close, she could see every detail, in living, sunwashed color. The navy rim around the lighter blue of his eyes, the reddish tips of his thick black lashes, even the thread-thin crow’s feet from all those years of squinting at a pitcher sixty feet away.

Without thinking, she reached up and brushed a few grains of sand and dirt from his cheeks, his skin warm and taut to the touch. “You get dirty at your job.”

“Always liked a job like that.”

She could actually feel herself falling into the blue of his eyes, like the Gulf, swirling around her, warm and inviting and gentle. “Do you like being a carpenter, Will?”

“When are we going to talk?” His voice was low, direct, as unwavering as his gaze.

“I’ll be back in the next few days,” she said, purposefully vague even though it was obvious he wanted to be anything but.

“Cancel tonight. Have dinner with me.”

She tried to back away, but the car was right behind her. “I can’t. I promised—”

“Lacey, I know. But you’ve known me longer.”

She swallowed, surprised by his determination and so fundamentally drawn to it. He still made her feel like her skin was on fire and her head was a little too light. Still.

But surely he didn’t still feel that way, not after all these years. Because if he did, he sure as hell wouldn’t be taking care of the person who had torn them apart. So his loyalty—the steadfast, unwavering loyalty that thrummed through his veins—must be directed at Guy now.

And then she knew what he wanted from her: to change her mind. “You want to talk me out of this, don’t you?”

“No.”

She absolutely didn’t believe him. “Are you sure? Because five hours ago you were pretty dead set against putting him in a home.”

He closed his eyes. “I still am, but I want to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

His eyes flashed. “After fifteen years? There’s a lot to say. A lot to catch up on.” He leaned closer, his face inches away. Too close. Too warm. Too attractive. “Please, Jocelyn. We go too far back, we shared too much to just act like casual acquaintances with a”—he gestured toward the house—“issue. We have to discuss… everything.”

“Like what?”

“Like your life and mine, like where you’ve been, who you’ve.…” His voice trailed off, uncomfortable. “If you’ve ever thought about me.”

She almost laughed. Almost told him the truth.

Just every damn night and most days, Will.

“Of course I’ve thought of you. I—”

“So have I.” He got closer, too close. The magnetic force field between them sparked and arced and drew her to him. Instead of giving in, she put her hand on his chest, ready to push, stunned to feel his heart slam like a jackhammer. His chest was damp, hard, and so, so warm under the thin cotton T-shirt.

Before she could take her hand away from the heat, he pressed his on top of hers. “Don’t shut me out.” Again. He didn’t say the final word, but she could hear it, unspoken but deafening.

“I… I…” It was like the earth was shifting under her, a terrifying tilt that made her feel like she was losing control. She tried to snap her hand away, but he pressed harder. “I won’t shut you out. I’m sure I’ll see you a lot while I’m here getting Guy’s things in order.” She slid her gaze toward the house. “We’ll catch up.”

Very slowly, he closed his fist over hers, slipping his hand around hers so that their fingers entwined. “I just want to know who you’ve become.”

“Why?”

His eyes flickered in surprise. “Why? Because I cared about you. I… wondered about you.”

Not enough to hunt her down, though. She swallowed the thought; leaving Will without saying good-bye and never calling him had been her decision. He just went along with it.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay, but you might not like everything I have to say.”

“I’m willing to take that chance.” He pulled their fisted hands up to his mouth, searing her knuckles with his warm breath. “Because… seeing you again, well…” He lowered his head, touched her cheek with his, and whispered in her ear. “Not a single day has passed where I didn’t think about you.”

Her heart stuttered and she closed her eyes, letting the words settle over her.

“That’s understandable,” she said with as much cool as she could muster. Which, under the circumstances, wasn’t much. “You see my father every day.”

“That’s not why.”

She looked up at him, almost ready to confess that she’d thought about him, too, a million times, a thousand nights, and every morning when she woke up alone.

“William! I can’t find my glasses!”

He blew out a soft exhale of frustration, sending unintended chills down her overheated skin. Leaning away, he turned to the front door. “Check the dishwasher, Guy.”

“I did! Found my favorite cup with the birds on—hey, are you two kissing?”

Will stepped away. “I’ll be right there, Guy.” He fought a smile. “I’ll never hear the end of this.”

But she just looked at him, baffled. Didn’t he realize that the very reason they’d lost fifteen years was standing in the doorway teasing them?

So was he trying to woo her with memories or did he have an agenda where Guy was concerned? Did he think he could get her to change her mind?

She wanted to find out. “I’ll talk to you, Will. Not tonight, but soon.”

“I can’t wait.”

Damn it, neither could she.

“I’ll get a bottle of wine, stat.” From her front door, Lacey deadpanned her opening salvo, and made Jocelyn laugh for the first time all day.

“Is my stress that obvious?” she asked as she entered Lacey’s brand-new home tucked away in the north corner of the Casa Blanca property.

“No. Tessa had a nice long talk with Will today.”

“Really.” Was that why he all of a sudden seemed interested in what she’d been doing for the past fifteen years? He hadn’t asked about the scandal. Had Tessa told him anything?

“Really.” Tessa came out from the large country-style kitchen, two goblets of something red and inviting in hand. “You don’t have to look at me like I read your diary,” she said, handing a glass to Jocelyn. “It’s just time to talk to your friends, hon.”

“One of whom is already in here drinking and waiting for you,” Zoe called from the family room.

“Come on in.” Lacey put a gentle arm on Jocelyn’s shoulder, already in her role as nurturer and peacemaker, as she had been since the first week they’d all met at Tolbert Hall. The worst of Jocelyn’s bruises had healed by then, thanks to the most unlikely of guardian angels, and she’d managed to hide the rest.

Still raw from the day’s events despite the fact that she’d stopped in her villa and showered off the memories that had rained on her all day, Jocelyn let Lacey guide her toward the high-ceilinged great room. The scent of tomato and basil wafted from the adjacent kitchen, and a batch of fudgy brownies tempted from the granite island.

Jocelyn inhaled it all, giving Lacey a hug. “You’ve been baking. Lucky for us.”

“Brownies? Hardly taxing my baking capabilities. But you smell those herbs? Homegrown by our very own Tessa Galloway.”

Tessa gave a little bow of acknowledgment. “It’s only going to get better when I finally learn how to work this sandy soil. But the herbs are doing nicely, so I put them in a lovely whole-wheat vegetable lasagna for us tonight. Completely organic and healthy.”

Jocelyn tapped her wineglass with Tessa’s, eyeing her warily. “All that gardening, and still time to chat with the construction workers.”

Tessa smiled. “Come on and sit down. We’ll talk.”

Jocelyn took a second to look around, since her first tour had been so quick when she’d arrived. True to his word, Clay had made building this home the first priority at Casa Blanca, and already the signs of a happy family could be seen. A framed picture of Clay, Lacey, and her daughter, Ashley, taken last Christmas, hung in a place of honor near a fireplace. A soft fleecy throw over the back of the sofa looked like it was probably getting plenty of cuddle time, and the pool outside the wide-open sliding glass doors was dotted with a beach ball and inner tube, no doubt the setting for some relaxing family hours.

“I’m not getting up,” Zoe said, sprawled on some cushions on the floor with a wineglass in front of her. “I may never walk again.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I took her to my hot yoga class,” Tessa said.

“Also known as the second level of hell,” Zoe said, trying to work out her neck. “But the instructor was almost as hot as the room temperature.”

“He certainly liked you.”

Zoe laughed. “Who doesn’t? Sit down, Joss, and buckle in for the Spanish Inquisition.”

Oh boy. She fell back into the corner of an overstuffed sofa. “I’ve had a tough day.” In other words, Take it easy, gang.

They didn’t respond as Tessa curled up in a big chair across the table and Lacey brought in a tray of veggies and dips, setting it on the table, then taking the seat next to Jocelyn.

“Is Clay here?” Jocelyn asked when the awkward silence went on one second too long.

“He went to Ashley’s soccer practice and they’re going out to dinner together afterwards,” Lacey said. “Stepfather and -daughter bonding time.”

“They’re doing well, then?” Jocelyn reached for a carrot, knowing the small talk wouldn’t last long.

Lacey nodded and patted Jocelyn’s arm. “C’mon, kiddo. We know you weren’t shopping all afternoon.”

Jocelyn put the carrot on a cocktail napkin without eating it, choosing instead to hold up her glass to the group. “How about we start with a toast?”

“Great idea.” Tessa raised her glass. “To honesty among lifelong friends.”

“To knowing you are loved and safe in this room,” Lacey added.

“To a rocking game of truth or dare.” Zoe grinned and raised her glass. “What do you want to drink to, Joss?”

She took a deep breath, looking from one to the other. “To not talking about me behind my back.”

They shared a guilty look and all drank, except Lacey, who squeezed Jocelyn’s arm. “We would never say anything bad, you know that. We love you.” She set her glass down without taking a sip and scooted closer. “And you don’t ever have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.”

Tessa exhaled softly. “Except you know how I feel. I hate when we have secrets.”

“Then tell me what Will told you today,” Jocelyn challenged.

She shrugged. “Not much, but he told me you went down to see your father, which we all know is weird because you are…” She hesitated, looking for a word.

“Estranged,” Lacey supplied.

“And he said your father is sick,” Tessa continued. “That’s all. Well, pretty much all.”

Jocelyn gave her a hard look.

“I mean, I think he… kind of has the hots for you,” Tessa added. “But that’s just conjecture. He didn’t say.”

Zoe sat up, yoga pain gone. “You so forgot to tell us that part.”

“Honestly, I already knew that,” Lacey said, plucking a zucchini disk and nibbling on it with a sly smile. “Remember the big town council meeting when I presented the Casa Blanca plans and Clay…” She made a gooey face. “You know, practically proposed?”

“We remember!” Zoe made a kissing sound. “So does the rest of this island.”

“We got there late,” Jocelyn said, remembering the wild ride from a hospital hours away. That day had been crazy, and she had no recollection of seeing Will that time, although she had seen him at the previous town meeting. “Was he there?” she asked.

Lacey nodded. “When I first got there with my dad, I saw Will, and the very first thing he asked about was you. And not in a casual way.”

“In what kind of way?”

“An interested way.”

“When were you going to tell me this?”

Lacey exhaled, searching her friend’s face. “Honestly, Joss, I thought it was Will keeping you from going south of Center when you visited. That maybe you had a history. I mean, I know your relationship with your dad is—”

“I have no relationship with my dad.”

“I knew that, but I just thought there must be something important between you and Will. Wasn’t there?”

She sipped wine. “Define ‘important.’”

On her knees, Zoe crawled closer to the table. “S-E-X.”

“No, we never…” Almost. Nearly. Wanted to. Still wanted to.

That last thought shot through her, surprising her with its intensity. “We were really close when we were young, really good friends. He was a great source of…” Fantasies. “Comfort for me.”

“What kind of comfort?”

“Why didn’t you tell us about him at school?” Lacey asked.

Jocelyn ignored Zoe’s question but answered Lacey’s. “We just went our separate ways,” she said. “He went to the University of Miami and had a big baseball career. I went to UF and met…” She lifted her glass, the early effects of the wine helping to dull the edges of her nerves. “The three best friends a girl ever had.”

“Aww,” Zoe said, coming around the table on her knees to curl her fingers around Jocelyn’s hand. “That’s so sweet.” She tightened her grip. “But don’t deflect. Did he hit you?”

“What?” She reared back at the question, so unexpected, especially from Zoe.

“Zoe!” the other two said in unison.

But Zoe didn’t take her eyes off Jocelyn. “On the first or second night at school, you were changing in the room, and I saw some bruises on you.”

Her blood chilled. “Will didn’t hit me, no. Will has never ever hurt me. On the contrary, he…” Tried to defend me. Was willing to take a bullet for me. Wasn’t he? Thank God they never had to find out.

“He what?” Zoe urged.

“He was exactly what I needed at the time.”

No one spoke, the only sound the soft hum from the pool motor just outside.

“Jocelyn,” Lacey finally said. “We know your dad is really sick. And we know you have a rocky relationship with him. You need us, honey, and you can trust us with anything. Even things you’ve never told anyone else.”

Perspiration tingled despite the cool evening air that tumbled in from the patio. All three of them looked at her with concern and love.

Which just made guilt smash at her heart. If they knew that she’d told Coco—a client and, yes, a friend—and not them? Lacey would be hurt. Tessa would be furious. And Zoe would remind her every chance she got.

But she’d told Coco for a reason, and these three women didn’t have any reason to know except that they were more like sisters than friends. They could be trusted, and tender. Plus, with Will doing a full-court press to keep her from putting Guy in a home, they could be her allies.

“I hate my father,” she said simply.

Yes, it was kind of hard to hate that weepy old man she’d spent the afternoon with, a man who couldn’t remember her name, but she still hated who he was and who he’d been.

No one spoke, giving her time to sift through her emotions to find the right words. “He…” Beat my mother. Kicked me so hard he broke a rib. Made me the control freak I am today. “Was physically abusive.”

“Oh, baby.”

“Jeez.”

“Shoot the em-effer.”

Jocelyn smiled at Zoe. “Don’t think the thought hadn’t occurred to me. But I did the next best thing. I left home and never looked back. Until today, it was my intention to never speak to him, look at him, or think about him until the day his death notice arrived in my mailbox.”

That silenced all of them.

“I know I sound harsh,” she said. “Especially now, when you look at the guy. He’s like a little old lady, doing needlepoint and watching HGTV. But I know what he is… what he was.” Her voice cracked and Zoe handed her the wineglass.

She half smiled, accepting it with a slight tremble in her hands, then taking a deep drink.

Tessa leaned closer, pain clouding her eyes. “Some people should not be allowed to be parents.”

“No kidding.” One more drink and her limbs finally felt a little heavy, while the weight on her heart felt a little lighter. “Before I left for school, I… he…” Shit. “There was a pretty bad night.” Her voice cracked, which she tried to cover with a fake cough. “Will was there.”

“Did he hit Will?” Tessa asked.

She shook her head. “He was more mad at me than he was at Will, but he did have a gun.” When Zoe gasped, Jocelyn added, “He was the deputy county sheriff on Mimosa Key at the time, so he was, you know, law and judge and jury. And my father. So I basically decided at that moment that Will, who was on a direct trajectory to huge success, would be better off if we didn’t ever see each other again.”

“And he agreed?” Zoe asked.

“He must have. He never tried to track me down at UF and our friendship ended.”

“And now he’s taking care of the guy you hate,” Tessa said.

Zoe grunted softly. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“But that’s Will,” Lacey said. “He’ll always do the right thing. That’s his nature.”

“I don’t think it’s the right thing,” Jocelyn said. “I know that’s cold, but I don’t. And he’s my father, not his. Despite what Guy thinks.”

“Guy thinks Will is his son?” Zoe choked on that.

“He’s pretty confused.” She put the glass down hard enough to splash a little wine on the napkin. “Is the intervention over yet? I’m starving.”

“Not an intervention.” Lacey sidled up closer and put her arm around Jocelyn. “And, really, we’ve all suspected it was something like this. Honestly, Joss, Will’s keeping your father’s condition pretty quiet. I knew he checked on him once in a while, but he’s been mum on how bad Guy is or, honestly, I’d have told you so you didn’t get blindsided when you arrived.”

“I wasn’t really blindsided. I saw Will this morning and he told me how me how sick Guy was, so I went down there today and…” Another mirthless, dry laugh. “He doesn’t remember me, he doesn’t remember the past, and he sure as hell doesn’t remember…” That night. “Anything he did to his wife or daughter.”

They all sighed, a collective exhale of dismay and disbelief. All except Zoe, who narrowed her eyes with a question. “Maybe Will didn’t know how bad it was with your dad for you.”

“He lived next door. He had a front-row seat.”

Tessa leaned forward. “You know what you need, Joss? You need to work this out. You need to get past this.”

Jocelyn frowned at her. “I am past it. Why do you think I took all those psych classes? Why do you think I’m a life coach?”

“I don’t think you’re past it,” Tessa said. “Or you could talk about it.”

“I am freaking talking about it! What do you want, Tess? Pictures? Scars? Details?”

Tessa dropped to her knees so that only the coffee table separated them. “I’m sorry, Joss. I don’t want to upset you, really. We just want to help you.”

“Then change the subject. I’ve never talked about it this much.”

“Even in therapy?” Tessa asked. “Didn’t you have to go through therapy to get your degree?”

“Nothing… deep.” She’d been quite adept at avoiding the topics she didn’t want to discuss.

“Not even to get certified as a life coach?”

She lifted a brow. “In California? Hang a shingle, baby, and get some bigmouth clients.” She waved her hand to erase any wrong impression that might leave. “I am certified by several organizations.” She reached for some grapes, plucking them from the stems, hating the hot and cold sensations that rolled through her.

Lacey put her hand on Jocelyn’s leg. “You know we just want to help you and support you.”

She nodded, taking a bite of a giant green grape. “Then help me find an assisted-living facility for him.”

Tessa leaned her elbows on the table. “You sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not taking care of him.”

“Will is,” Tessa said.

“Which is… kind.”

“How did he handle it?” Tessa asked. “I mean, everything that went on with your dad when you were young? Did Will ever try to stop him? He seems like he would have.”

She shot a look at Tessa, surprised by the little jolt of jealousy that Tessa—and Lacey—had gotten to know Will Palmer when he was so lost to Jocelyn.

“My dad was the law back then. No, no. He was so far above the law it could give you a nosebleed. And Will had a big-time career to worry about.”

“As if he’d put his career before something like that,” Tessa said.

“He is loyal to a fault,” Lacey agreed. “Definitely our best and most reliable subcontractor, who just seems to work and live with all his heart.”

“He was always that way,” she said, feeling an unnatural sense of propriety. After all, she’d known—and loved—Will before they did. “And still is that way because he doesn’t want to put Guy in a home, or at least wants me to think about alternatives.”

“Would you think about alternatives?” Tessa asked.

Before she could answer the oven beeped and Lacey stood slowly, waiting to hear Jocelyn’s answer before leaving the room.

Jocelyn shrugged. “I have a lot of work to do down there first. And he…” She smiled, knowing they’d laugh. “He thinks I’m with Clean House and I’m going to put him on TV after I straighten things up and have a yard sale.”

Zoe popped up and gave her head a shake. “So you better git to gittin’, uh-huh!”

Jocelyn cracked up at the spot-on Niecy Nash impression, welcoming the levity and a chance to get up and help Lacey in the kitchen. But as she did Tessa was up, too, taking Jocelyn’s hand to hold her back.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You know we just want to help you.”

Jocelyn nodded, not trusting her voice.

“And so does Will.”

One more nod and Tessa pulled her a little closer.

“He’s been hurt, too.”

Jocelyn just looked at her. “I read somewhere he was married.” Not that she’d Googled him on one particularly lonely night back in L.A. or anything.

“He was divorced before he got here. I always thought that was what put the little bit of, I don’t know, sadness in his eyes. Or maybe being so far away from baseball and not having a coaching job offer.”

More inside information that Tessa had and Jocelyn didn’t. Who could she blame? She’d never called Will, had never kept in touch, and, of course, neither had he.

“But today I thought maybe…” She waited a few seconds until Jocelyn nudged her.

“Maybe what?”

“I think it’s you who hurt him.”

“Me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was his ex-wife. Short marriage—he never talks about it. You should find out.”

She intended to. When they had that “catch-up” conversation he wanted so much.

The thing was, she wanted it, too.