Paige straightened at what promised to be much more significant than Garfield eyebrows.
"A what?"
"A fixer-upper man. Um, you know. Somebody who fixes things like when the dishwasher broke and that worker came with his big tool belt."
"A repairman?"
"Yes. The stranger was always wearing those clothes the other times I talked to him."
Other times? Ohmigod. "How often have you spoken to him?"
Kirstie's gaze skittered away.
Paige tipped her daughter's chin. "I'm not mad, but this is important. I need to be able to trust you."
Kirstie fidgeted under her covers before meeting her mother's gaze again. "The first time, I saw him at the air show when I went out the back of the moonwalk."
Paige squelched a shiver at how close danger had been. She'd feared that, but having it confirmed scared the spit out of her.
"And then at the school playground he had on his fixer-man clothes and a visitor's pass shaped like an apple so I really thought it was okay if he pushed me on the swing for a while.">Sitting on the stone bench by a trickling water fountain, Bo studied Paige over by the garden entrance with his cell phone. They would leave for lunch as soon as she finished checking up on Kirstie. "I figured you would. She's a nice lady."
Nice? What a namby-pamby word for an awesome lady.
Just looking at that cell phone against her ear made him think of tossing it out the window, which made him think of what came after. And how exciting it would be to peel that khaki skirt and white T-shirt off her later. Then, holy hell, he really needed to quit thinking or he might scorch this garden faster than when he'd poured too much fertilizer on the lawn.
"She obviously cares for her little girl."
He glanced away from Paige and back at the aging nun who'd bandaged his knees far longer than his own mother. They couldn't look any more different, Sister Mary Nic checking in at five feet tall when wearing those clunky nun shoes. She weighed all of eighty pounds soaking wet and could scare the crap out of a roomful of elementary hellions with just a look.
But when she smiled her approval with eyes as dark as her skin, the world was right and he could conquer anything. Which made him wonder what he hoped to accomplish by bringing Paige here? Approval? Maybe. But more than that he needed direction from Sister on what to do next.
"Paige is a good mom." He knew well what a gift that could be for a child. "No surprise Kirstie's a great kid with lots of grit. She's got these big brown eyes behind her glasses that just get to you even when she's cranky or puking on my boots."
He let his eyes linger on Paige while the memories from the air show rolled over him.
Seemed like forever ago.
Birds chirped in the magnolias and dogwoods shrouding the garden in privacy. An itch started right between his eyes, as if he'd been targeted by a certain Super Nun's laser look.
Bo snapped his attention off Paige and back to Sister Nic. "Don't go there, Sister."
"Go where?" She brought the cigarette to her nose, but still didn't light it. She must be quitting—again.
"You know what I mean. I realize I'm your best hope for grandbabies but Paige and I are not..." But they were. "She's not..." But she could be. "Hell, I've only known the woman a couple of weeks."
And thought about her nonstop for a year since the first time she'd walked into a police station and into his life. An unforgettable woman.
"She's better than those bimbos you brought around before. And watch your language, please."
"Sure. Sorry. And I don't date bimbos." He felt sixteen again, caught behind the adjoining all-girls' school trying to cop a feel up a junior's uniform blouse. He always had been a breast man.
Sister Nic trailed her fingers through the fountain—and flicked water in his face. "What would you call the others, then, the gigglers who fawned all over you?"
"Hannah was smart." He swiped the droplets off his forehead. "She's a biochemist researcher at the medical university, for crying out loud."
"And you chased her off with that bad attitude when you were recovering from surgery."
Score one for Sister Nic. He'd been an ass to a really nice lady during his recovery.