Page 49 of Fierce Hope
“Right,” Jade said, her tone carefully neutral as she selected a bunch of bananas. “I guess that means you can stand down from bodyguard duty.”
“I could,” he agreed, watching her profile. “But until we understand why she targeted you, I’d feel better staying close.”
The relief that flashed across her face before she could mask it told him everything he needed to know about her feelings on the matter.
“If you’re sure,” she said, focusing intently on examining a bell pepper. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from more important tasks.”
“Nothing more important at the moment,” he said, then quickly added, “professionally speaking.”
Jade smiled, a genuine expression that warmed her eyes. “Well, in that case,” her tone shifted to teasing, “if you’re sticking close, you should know there’s a quarterly board meeting at church tomorrow night. Three riveting hours of budget discussions, committee reports, and passionate debate about whether to replace the sanctuary carpet this fiscal year or next.”
Deke groaned theatrically. “You fight dirty, Villanueva.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re committed to this protection detail ...” she trailed off, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Fine,” he capitulated, surprised to find himself looking forward to even this dull event if it meant spending more time with her. “But you owe me.”
“Fair enough.” She pushed the cart toward the checkout, her shoulders lighter than he’d seen them in weeks. “I’ll make it up to you with that mango chicken.”
As they loaded groceries onto the conveyor belt, Deke studied her profile. Something had shifted between them—an acknowledgment, perhaps, that whatever was happening had moved beyond professional obligation. Yet he sensed her holding back, keeping some part of herself carefully guarded. The same way she’d changed the subject when he’d probed too deeply about her past.
Everyone had secrets. He certainly did. But something told him Jade’s weighed on her more heavily than most—and that whatever she was protecting might be the very thing that kept her from fully letting him in.
For now, though, he was content with this moment of normalcy—groceries and teasing and the promise of dinner together. The complications could wait, at least until after the church board meeting.
He was pretty sure he could endure even budget discussions if it meant seeing Jade in her element, doing the work she loved. And maybe they’d figure out what Gillian Wycoff’s real motives were along the way.
28
“—andas you can see from page three, we’ve actually increased overall donations by twelve percent compared to this quarter last year, despite the economy,” Jade said, gesturing to the handout she’d distributed.
Mr. Forester, whose hardware store had supported the church for three generations, beamed with satisfaction. “The community appreciation day was a smart investment.”
“Agreed,” Jade replied, grateful for the supportive comment. Board meetings were no one’s idea of fun, but quarterly financial reviews ranked particularly low on the enthusiasm scale. At least her meticulous preparation was paying off, helping demonstrate her value to the church despite the whispers that had followed her into the room.
News of Gillian Wycoff’s arrest had clearly spread—conversations had halted abruptly when Jade entered, replaced by overly bright smiles and careful inquiries about her weekend. No one directly mentioned what had happened, creating an undercurrent of awkward tension that made her shoulder blades tighten.
Her gaze drifted to the back of the room where Deke had positioned himself, ostensibly checking his phone but clearlymonitoring the room with practiced ease. He’d insisted on accompanying her despite her protests that a church board meeting hardly constituted a high-risk environment. Now, watching him look so capable yet so obviously out of place among the blazers and sensible dresses of the board members, she felt a rush of warmth she immediately tried to suppress.
This wasn’t real. It was protection detail, nothing more. And even if it were something more ... she couldn’t build anything meaningful on half-truths and omissions.
“Moving on to the ministry budgets,” Jade continued, advancing to the next slide with a practiced click. Kent Wycoff sat at the head of the table, his tailored suit and composed demeanor offering no cracks in his professional veneer—no indication that his wife had been arrested just yesterday for harassing Jade.
She moved through her presentation efficiently, walking the board through each ministry’s quarterly performance with clear explanations that made the numbers accessible without being condescending, a skill her father had taught her early. Marks were easier to coax into trust when they believed you were honest and plain-spoken. Shame tinged her cheeks with heat. Then, she’d used her abilities to manipulate. Now, she used them to serve. The contrast never failed to humble her.
“Under miscellaneous expenses,” she said, reaching the final section of her report, “I wanted to bring attention to this storage contract that came across my desk last week.” She distributed copies of the letter. “I don’t have any record that we’re actually using this facility. I also can’t find any record of current payments. If we are, we need to update our inventory records. If not, we should terminate the contract.”
Henry Thurston, a silver-haired board member with a perpetual expression of displeasure, cleared his throat loudly. “This is hardly worth the board’s time, Ms. Villanueva. We’verented storage before. I’m sure we’ll do it again. If, as you say, we’re not paying for it, what’s the problem? Most likely the Fall Festival committee considered storage and then decided against it.”
“The contract is current, Mr. Thurston,” Jade replied evenly. “I just want the Board’s permission to terminate it. We can enter into another contract if we need to rent space. It keeps our paperwork cleaner.”
Thurston’s voice rose sharply, his face flushing. “Can we not waste the board’s valuable time with this rummage-sale nonsense? You can handle this later. We have more important matters to discuss.”
The vehemence of his response caught Jade off guard. The storage contract was a minor matter. His reaction felt wildly disproportionate.
“Back off, Henry. Ms. Villanueva is just doing her job,” Kent Wycoff interjected smoothly. “Though I agree this is likely just old paperwork that needs clearing up.” He shot Thurston a warning glance before continuing, “I’ll look into it myself. Now, shall we move on to the youth ministry budget?”
Jade nodded and continued her presentation, but her mind kept returning to Thurston’s strange reaction. She caught Deke’s subtle nod from the back of the room—he’d noticed too.
