Page 132 of Unseen Danger

He would focus on that goal from now on. Something he couldn’t do unless he kept her on for security. He needed to stay in her life to tell her about Jesus.

And if she did come to the Lord. Well…

“I'd like that.” Nevaeh looked at him, the hope that welled up inside him reflected in a smaller way in her gaze. “So are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Moving my sister. The wedding.” She adopted a casual tone as she glanced away.

But her words—the wedding—tripled the hope seeping through him, making his heart thump against his ribs.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Thirty-Seven

Now that was a sight a girl could get used to. Nevaeh paused in the middle of filling glasses with lemonade and stared out the kitchen window.

Outside on the driveway, her own Hercules hefted a bookcase into the trailer alone, his massive muscles straining against his T-shirt sleeves, the cotton skimming his rippling back.

She couldn’t believe that impressive display of strength and fitness used to spook her.

“He’s a good man.”

Nevaeh jumped and whirled, sloshing the lemonade in the pitcher as her gaze landed on Pops.

“Careful.” He eyed the pitcher in her hand. But his eyes redirected over her shoulder so quickly that suspicion rose in her mind. Pops loved his double meanings. Though what he was hinting at this time, Nevaeh had no clue. Unless he didn’t approve of her liking Branson.

“You like him, don’t you, Pops?”

“I do.” He stepped around Cannenta, who lay at Nevaeh’s feet, and stopped by the counter to peer out the window.

She turned to look again, too.

Branson and her older brother TJ laughed about something. TJ never even smiled around folks he didn’t like.

LeBron sauntered up to the two men and smacked Branson on the back as he said something she couldn’t hear.

Branson didn’t wince or startle, instead gripping LeBron’s shoulder and giving him a hearty shake with a grin. He appeared to answer LeBron back. Knowing her kid brother, LeBron had probably ribbed the older guys about getting back to work.

“He’s good for the boys.”

Nevaeh smiled at the approval in Pops’ voice. “Yeah.”

“Good for you, too.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Nevaeh set the pitcher on the counter and rotated so she could get a better look at her grandpa. “I saw the two of you having a serious conversation out there a little while ago. What’d you talk about?”

“Men talk.” Pops gimped from the window to the breakfast table and pulled out a spindly chair next to Alvarez. The poor dog lay panting on the vinyl floor, not enjoying the absence of air conditioning in Pops’ house.

“Aw, come on, Pops. It was about me, wasn’t it?”

He lowered himself into the chair and let out a breath that sounded too much like a wince for her taste.

“Your leg hurting today?”

“Every day, honey.”

She frowned. There should be something they could do about the discomfort. Maybe a physical therapist. She’d have to check to see if his state insurance or Medicare would cover that.

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