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Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors 9)

Page 138

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"Do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

"To see Sister Nic." He shrugged into the sports coat. "We usually catch morning Mass and then have breakfast whenever I'm in town over the weekend."

Ah, now she understood. This man who worked not to share about himself would lose major privacy if she stepped into that part of his world. She waited for the invitation to join him while he gathered up his wallet and change off the dresser. How strange that she would be hurt if he didn't ask her to go along and scared if he did.

He smoothed his jacket and gave his tie a final tightening tug that must have darn near choked him. "Would you like to come with me?"

Nerves pranced in her stomach like one of her four-legged patients. "Yes, I think I would, if you really want me there."

"I do." He nodded, that tie so snug she feared he might pass out before they made it to the Jeep.

Even though he avoided discussing his biological parents, she understood well Sister Mary Nic had been the true mother figure in Bo's life. Was she reading too much into this invitation to join him?

Because, in spite of all her resolutions to simply enjoy a fling with Bo, it sure felt like a meet-the-parents moment.

Everybody else had parents here today except her.

Kirstie hopped out of her Uncle Vic's truck into the parking lot, her white church leathers pinching her feet. She'd asked to wear her tennis shoes with her jean dress, but Uncle Vic made her put on these ugly old things that hurt when she ran.

Scuffing a toe over the sidewalk up to the big brick chapel, she worked to mess up the shoes good while Uncle Vic held her hand on their way. She didn't want to be here with Uncle Vic and Uncle Seth. She wanted her mom, her dad, too. And maybe Bo because he was fun, and if her dad was here, then Bo wouldn't be a boyfriend so it would be okay to have him around.

But her mama was in Charleston. No fair. Kirstie dragged her other shoe, scraping the side along an angel statue with extra oomph. She wanted to go see her old house and her friends and flowers.

And what if Mom didn't come back?

Over by the big steps, she saw him—her stranger friend who told stories about her daddy.

The man wasn't wearing his fixer-guy uniform today, just regular clothes like everybody else, but she still recognized him and his bushy eyebrows.

It would be tough to talk to him without Uncle Vic noticing and asking lots of question.

He was real good about watching her, holding tight to her hand anytime they went anywhere. Or letting her ride on his shoulders. And when she thought of how nice he was, she felt sort of bad about ditching him. But she would be right back before he knew it.

Still, he was tough to sneak away from, not like Uncle Seth.

Ahhh. Idea.

She tugged his hand before he could start up the steps. "Uncle Vic? I'm gonna ask Uncle Seth to walk me to Sunday school class so you can get to the doughnuts before all the good ones are gone."

He looked down, a long way 'cause he was so tall. "I'll take you."

She crooked a finger for him to lean toward her, then checked to make sure nobody was listening. "I think Uncle Seth likes my teacher."

Uncle Vic smiled, which made her feel even more guilty because he didn't smile that much. "All right, then, Miss Matchmaker. Have at it."

He let go of her hand.

She would do something nice for him later, like fill the dog bowls with water without being asked. For now she was almost home free.

Kirstie raced across the grass to her Uncle Seth already busy talking to another lady who was wearing a dress Mama would have called "too short for church." A lucky break, since Uncle Seth would want Kirstie out of the way.

She yanked on the bottom of his coat. "Uncle Seth? I'm gonna go to Sunday school with my friend Emily and her mama."

That would be fun except she didn't have friends here. Emily lived back in Charleston.

He pulled his eyes off the short-skirt lady. "Where are Emily and her mom?"

"Uh..." Kirstie looked around the crowd until she found icky Bitsy from her school and pointed. Uncle Seth wouldn't know the difference. "Right there."



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