Page 38 of Justice for JoElla

“I’ll never be ready.”

“Then never it is. Come on.” Released from his arms, she wandered back toward the kitchen, and they took their seats at the table.

There was very little talk. Brandon tried several topics, but she barely grunted out answers, so he just ate and tried to forget about conversation. When they were finished and he’d picked up all the trash to throw out, he heard her say something. “I’m sorry, babe. What did you say?”

“I said, are you going home now?”

Brandon chuckled. “I don’t have a home, remember?”

“To your brother’s.”

“I promised you I’d take you somewhere today, unless you don’t want to go.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Well, I want to go, and if I go, I hope you’ll go too. Is it okay if I use your shower?”

“Sure.”

He grinned. “Want to get in there with me?”

Expressionless, she answered, “Not particularly.”

“Okay then. I’m showering. I’ll only be a few minutes.” She didn’t respond, so he grabbed his bag and started the shower.

“Finished,” he called out as he stepped from the shower. There was no answer from the living room, and when he wandered into the bedroom, he found her there, looking through her closet. “Find something you want to wear?”

“Guess so.” She tossed a pair of capris and a three-quarter sleeved, lightweight sweater on the bed, then added a bra and panties to it. There was a pair of leather sandals over against the wall, and she picked them up and dropped them at the edge of the bed. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

The urge to look through her things was overwhelming, but Brandon told himself that wasn’t cool. Yes, it might yield something that would help him, but so might conversation, even though that was almost impossible with her. With a little bit of product run through his hair and his shirt and jeans on, he took a look in the mirror. They were clothes he never would’ve worn before, but why not? Nobody cared how he looked. He was pretty sure JoElla didn’t. Matter of fact, he was pretty sure she didn’t even look at him.

It seemed appropriate to give her a little privacy, so he made himself comfortable on the sofa and picked up a magazine. Guns. Another one lay a little distance away. Tactical gear. Poking through the stack, he found one that was a catalog from an outfitter. It was filled with a variety of ridiculously expensive life vests, kayaks, helmets, survival gear, and all kinds of things for hiking, climbing, and camping. No sports crap, like baseball, soccer, none of that, just rugged, outdoor pastimes, including serious fishing gear. He checked the name on the catalog, and then he understood: Lawson’s of Alabama. They were some elite company started by a young entrepreneur who negotiated for exclusive brands in his stores. He’d love to visit one of those someday, but so far, he’d never been close enough to one. Movement caught his eye, and he looked up.

JoElla stood there in the clothes she’d picked out and leaned against the door jamb. “Well, don’t you look cute?” he said with a grin.

Her voice was little more than a grunt. “Nobody’s ever called me cute.”

“You are. Cute as can be. Ready to go?”

“I guess. I don’t even know where I’m going, so sure.”

“I want it to be a surprise,” Brandon explained. He’d never been there either, and when he heard about it from one of the other EMTs, he thought it sounded interesting. They were about to find out.

Small talk was difficult to come by in the car, and he was struck by the difference from the night before. They’d talked and laughed a little, and she’d seemed… What? Happy to be there with him? At least not repulsed by him? Wishing she could find a way to get away from him? It seemed all he had to do to ruin a new relationship was have good sex with a woman who’d said she wanted it. Who knew? That was a scenario no one had ever prepared him for. Hell, there probably wasn’t, never had been, and never would be any kind of preparation for that.

Damn, he missed his onboard navigation system! According to the mapping program on his phone, they were almost there, so his eyes scanned the horizon until he saw the sign.

Whisper Wing Farms

USDA Certified and Licensed

There were a couple more signs under it, one with a left-pointing arrow that read “Educational Farm,” and another pointing to the right that said, “Farm Shop.”

JoElla had started to look around a bit. “What is this place?”

Brandon glanced at the sign just ahead: “Insectarium.” Without looking at her, he answered, “It’s a butterfly farm.”

“A what?”

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