Page 75 of Eight Years Gone

He shrugged. “We could do the same thing but maybe hot glue some corn kernels to my swirls or something.”

Grace laughed this time—one of her tip her head back in the seat laughs.

He chuckled, loving that sound. “It’s not a bad idea if you think about it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

He shrugged again. “You can be anything you want on Halloween, even disgusting.”

She lifted his hand, kissing his knuckles, shaking her head as she laughed again. “I missed you, Jagger.”

His grin was back as he met her gaze. “Well, here I am.”

She kissed him a second time. “Thank goodness.”

He winked. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She laced her fingers with his again. “I’m not sure what we’ll do or what we’ll find, for that matter. Christy and Mike said things were pretty picked through when they were here with Brennan over the weekend. But we’re creative.”

“I’m still digging the poop idea. I think we’ve got something there.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes with another chuckle. “What if we leave that as a backup?”

“Sure.”

“Can I ask you about something that has nothing to do with poop or costumes?”

He grinned. “Definitely. What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about our macaroni and cheese conversation.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. Maybe you can come over on Saturday—”

Grace trailed off, tensing her fingers against his as she stared at the Philadelphia Orthopedic and Regenerative Medicine Clinic billboard lit up in the dark a couple of miles in the distance.

Worry Less; Heal Faster. A Holistic Approach with World-Renowned Care.

“That looks new,” he said, taking his eyes off the road in snatches to study Doctor Steven Evans and his two equally famous colleagues, anti-aging doctors Paul Becker and Brianna Kimball, as they smiled down at Scranton while they stood with their arms crossed.

The billboard was a long way from Philly—a good three hours. But it didn’t matter. Steve and Paul had built themselves a reputation for excellence over the years.

The Evans Infusion—a pre- and postoperative mega-dose of amino acids, collagen, vitamins, and minerals developed by Steve and Paul—had put the doctors on the map when Grace had been a baby.

Patients came from far and wide for their orthopedic care. The clinic treated everyday people and world-renowned athletes, plus Steve had operated on a couple of former United States presidents.

“He looks older,” Grace commented quietly.

Steve still looked damn good for a guy in his midsixties—a few gray hairs and a wrinkle here and there, but Steve had always been considered a very attractive man.

Grace mostly looked like her mom but had her dad’s chin.

“A little,” Jagger agreed as he frowned. “When did they hire Brianna?”

“Aunt Maggie mentioned something about it a couple of years ago. I imagine she’ll take over the entire practice when my dad and Paul are ready to retire.”

Jagger whistled through his teeth. “That’ll be one hell of a buyout.”

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