Mystic Park (Finding Home 4)

“You never miss an opening, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Los Angeles doesn’t have the sense of community we have here, does it? How well do you know your neighbors?” The look in Vaughn’s eyes told her he already had the answer.

“I don’t spend much time with my neighbors.”

When she’d tried to introduce herself to the woman in the apartment next door, her neighbor had reacted as though Benita had beamed down from outer space. Benita had no idea how someone new to L.A. went about making friends. That’s why she’d decided to bring a friend—and lover—back with her to L.A.

Vaughn checked his watch. “Have you had lunch?”

“I was going to put away my laundry first.” She nodded toward the staircase.

Vaughn stood, crossing toward the basket near the stairs. “I’ll carry it upstairs for you.”

“Thanks.” Benita rose to follow him, then froze when she remembered what was in the basket. “On second thought . . .”

Vaughn straightened with the clothes basket in his hands. His attention was sewn to the Heritage High School football jersey mixed in with her other clean clothes. “You’ve had my jersey all these years.”

Benita was mortified. She’d been caught in her lie. “Do you want it back?”

Vaughn lifted his eyes to hers. “Why did you take it?”

She couldn’t hold his gaze. “I thought it would help me to not miss you as much when we went away to college.”

“Did it work?”

“No.” Benita chuckled without humor. “It doesn’t help me in L.A., either. But I don’t want to give it back.”

“You don’t have to.” Vaughn offered a gentle smile. “But it seems to me that you’d have better luck with the real thing.”

Vaughn lowered his lips to hers and gave her a wistful kiss full of dreams and yearning. He was right. There wasn’t a substitute for the real man. But she needed to convince him to return to L.A. with her.

Leonard George waited for Alonzo on a seat near the Sheriff Department’s front desk Friday afternoon. The sight of Doreen’s ex-lover soured Alonzo’s already cranky mood. What did the other man want?

“I heard you proposed to Doreen.” Leonard stood. The glare he gave Alonzo said he wished the sheriff would disappear and he didn’t care how.

“We’ll talk in my office.” Alonzo glanced around the reception area, a fancy term for the strip of space between the front door and the bull pen.

His deputies and administrative staff were pretending not to eavesdrop. But this was Trinity Falls. Gossip was currency and his staff was looking for a big pay day. He was going to disappoint them.

Leonard didn’t move. His face was a mask of hatred. His brown cheeks were flushed pink. “Is it true? Did you have the nerve to ask her to marry you?”

“If you want to talk, shut up and follow me. Otherwise, leave.” Alonzo walked away. If the high school football coach wanted to talk, they could do so in private. But Alonzo wasn’t giving his department a show.

Thankfully, Leonard was silent as Alonzo led him to his office. Maybe the other man realized he wouldn’t have been heard above the shouted conversations, tapping keyboards, and ringing phone lines. Some members of his department stared openly as Alonzo walked past. Most made the effort to at least appear busy.

Alonzo stopped outside his office do

or. He considered the high school football coach’s loose-fitting blue button-down shirt and navy blue pants as Leonard preceded him into his office. The other man had lost weight.

Leonard helped himself to one of the two black leather guest chairs in front of the desk. Alonzo tensed. He didn’t have anything to say that would require Leonard to take a seat. And he doubted Leonard had anything to say that Alonzo wanted to hear. He checked his watch. It was four in the afternoon.

“Did you propose to Doreen?” Leonard glared up at him from over his shoulder.

“What does that have to do with you?” Alonzo shut his door, then circled the desk to take his seat.

“I care about Doreen.”