Page 9 of The White Picket Fence

“Where is home?”

“Mount Airy. My brother Gino and I bought a house out there.”

One side of her mouth lifted. “Bachelor pad.”

He rolled his eyes. “Everyone always says that, but we keep it tidy. We even have a housekeeper come in every two weeks.”

Her lips twitched. “But thereisa man cave in the basement?”

He grinned. “With a big-ass flat-screen for football and a full bar. Homemade brew on tap.”

“Who makes the beer?”

“I do. I get gaps between jobs, and brewing beer keeps me busy. That and babysitting my nieces and nephews. Dino has five kids and Vito has two with one on the way.”

Her expression became wistful. “That must be nice.”

You could have had that, Tino wanted to say.You could have had me.

But he kept those thoughts to himself, curious as to what had become of her. Curious as to why she was no longer a chef. Curious as to why she used a cane. Curious as to why her aunt thought she felt guilty for the attack. But he kept those questions to himself as well.

“No husband or kids?” he asked instead.

She shook her head with a slight grimace. “Divorced. Messy. You?”

That she was single shouldn’t have made him so happy. But it did. She’d aged, sure, but she was still the prettiest woman he’d ever known. Her hair was still golden, her eyes still the same blue.

His body still responded to her. Still wanted her.

Which was stupid. But it was true.

He pushed the desire away, focusing on the question she’d asked.

It should have felt awkward, talking after so many years apart. Especially after the way they’d parted. But it didn’t. It felt...familiar. “Engaged once. Broke it off. We were better friends than life partners.”

She nodded once, but her eyes flickered with what might have been satisfaction.

He wasn’t going to let his mind go there. He was here to give her comfort and support. Maybe to find out why she felt guilty for her aunt’s assault. Not to fall back into old habits.

She’d been a habit, he’d told himself over and over after she’d left. Not his lover. Not his partner. Just a habit.

It sounded as false now as it had twenty-four years ago.

He was a forty-two-year-old man who traveled for a living. When he came home, it was to the house he shared with his brother.

If she hadn’t thought him worth staying for when he’d been eighteen, when life had been full of possibilities... Well, he wasn’t going to wonder about what might have been. What could still be.

This was a meeting due to circumstance.

And the circumstance was a tragic one.

“You’re still friends with Cliff Gargano,” she commented. “His mother said so.”

“Still thick as thieves. We’re both boring old men now, though,” he added ruefully. “He’s a daddy. Finally. Their little girl is so frickin’ cute.” He pulled out his phone, easily finding a photo of little Addison. His phone was full of them.

Charlotte smiled. “She looks like Sonya. She’s their little miracle, Mrs. Gargano said.”

“Truth.” He set his phone aside and decided to take the plunge into what he really needed to know. “Your aunt is worried about you.”

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