Page 8 of A Second Chance

Jason nodded. Understood. Dan was a former Green Beret and had skills that should make him shit himself after a threat like that. “Why didn’t you this time?”

“Who says I didn’t?”

“You didn’t tell her…” he nodded toward the kitchen.

“I just made sure you were alive and didn’t need help. Once I did, I figured it’s your job to tell your family. She had Weasel looking for you. But there’s only so much legal channels can accomplish.”

“Got it. Don’t worry. I’m ready to get on with my life.” Danny toddled over to him and held up a group of linked Duplo blocks. “Whatcha’ got there, bud? Blocks?”

The boy babbled a bit and put the blocks in his lap and smacked his knee several times. Jason picked up the blocks and pulled them apart. Danny held up his hands for the blocks; Jason gave them back. He returned to his pile and picked up more stuck together blocks.

“I’m sensing a pattern.,” Jason said, pulling apart another set of blocks. “He’s great with strangers.”

“Well, he is used to the group.”

“At least that’s something that hasn’t changed.”

Four

Jason used the gate codes that Autumn had given him to let himself onto the Huntington Farms property. The houses were only accessible by driving the route through the venue property. At the security fence that separated the work from the personal property, he entered another code.Ben and his life partner Brandon owned both. They’d restored the old farmhouse and barn, and ran a successful business. They hired Autumn as the manager, and she and Brandon became fast friends.

Jason wished he would have gotten a motel room since he didn’t wish to disrupt the guys’ life, but he also preferred to not disappoint Autumn. He’d find a place, pronto. Since he didn’t need fancy digs, a vacancy at the only apartment complex would be perfect.

Ben paused at the door when he parked the truck in the driveway, yelling in greeting as Jason lifted his bag and headed toward the house. Jason, Dan, Weasel, and Ben had grown up together and were products of the White Oak school system. In high school, Ben was the star quarterback of the football team. No one suspected he’d come home from college with Brandon.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Jason said.

Ben waived a hand in the air. “Nonsense. Anything for Autumn.”

“Did she blackmail you?”

Ben chuckled patting him on the back. “Get in here. It’s so wonderful to have you home.”

“Thanks, man. Happy to be here.” Their home was neat and clean, like he’d assumed, but it smelled of cookies and an overall coziness.

“Let me show you around the house.”

Jason followed Ben through the foyer and into the almost-standard dude living room. It boasted a large sofa, cushy chairs, and a big screen television. But the decorative pillows and Martha Stewart-looking coffee table and decorated bookshelves were a nice touch.

In the spotless kitchen, again, everything was in its place. On the counter, he found the origin of the aroma: a rack of cookies sat cooling. Down the hallway there was a laundry room and bathroom for his use, and his guest bedroom. The military had accustomed him to an orderly existence, and the regimented group home not much better.

“We’re having a bonfire party tonight at seven over by the barn. I hope you’ll come. If you don’t ride with us, you can grab a golf cart out back. We have two. I’m gonna leave you to get settled. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. And the bonfire sounds fun,” Jason replied. It’d been a long time since he’d been to any party.

***

The afternoon turned chilly, and golds, reds, and oranges dotted the fall landscape and glowed in the setting sun. Gwen wrapped up in a sweater and stepped out of the car in the parking lot of Huntington Farms. Two of her friends owned and ran the venue at the foothills to the plateau. The rolling hills, the barn, and the mountain view backdrop provided a stunning locale for the weddings they hosted. A plaque mounted beside the front door of the 1935 farmhouse announced it was on the National Register of Historic Places. Tonight, she meandered the path lit with small solar powered lights around to the back to the bonfire party.

Gwen roamed through the garden path over to where the built-in fire pit surrounded by a stone patio sat with a variety of seating encircling the area. Rebecca, the executive chef, spotted her first and greeted her with a hug. The owners, Ben and Brandon, had developed the perfect idea: they opened their own business, then hired their friends.

“So good to see you. Feel like it’s been forever,” Rebecca said.

“I know. It’s wonderful to get out and unwind.”

“How about a drink?”

“Sounds great.” Gwen scanned the bodies already there. Weasel, Dan, Justin, and the backside of a guy she didn’t recognize were in a deep discussion and pointing at the logs in the fire pit. The new man had short, dark hair, a set of broad shoulders, and a pair of faded jeans sculpted to a fine butt. She hoped the front was as sexy as the rear. With her luck, it would be a disappointment.

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