take you back to Caden’s and you can wait for her to call you there?”
She frowned. “What happened to doing dinner at your parents’ house?”
“I was going to cancel. After your adventures at the hospital, I didn’t figure you’d want to go eat with people you’ve never met before.”
“I thought you needed me to be a buffer,” she said.
He gave her a crooked smile. “I’ll be a big boy and deal with it. And her.”
“Actually, I’d kind of like to go, if you don’t mind.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“I could use the distraction. If I go back to Caden’s, he’ll interrogate me and I’ll dwell on the whole thing, and I just . . . yeah. I’d rather go eat dinner and forget about everything until Mrs. Howard calls.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” She paused. “As long as it’s safe. I don’t want to endanger your family.” She rubbed her eyes. “Maybe it’s better if I don’t.”
“Travis and Asher will be with us all the way. One will be in front and one behind. While we’re inside, they’ll be on guard.”
“Fabulous. I just pray we’re not putting them in danger, asking them to do this.”
He squeezed her fingers. “This is their job. It’s what they do every day. Fortunately, they’re very good at it.”
Sarah nodded. “I’m sure they are. You have some good friends.”
“The best.”
She shot him a small smile. “I know the feeling.”
The friendships they’d formed while serving their country would last a lifetime, and he had no words for the gratitude that filled him when he thought of it. He just hoped he could keep Sarah alive to grow old with those friends. Because someone seemed determined to make sure that didn’t happen.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
When Gavin pulled into the driveway of his parents’ home, Sarah eyed the place with an envious stare. “You grew up here?” she asked. The two-story Victorian sat on an acre lot, and while the shutters needed a coat of paint, the yard was immaculate.
“I did. It was actually my grandparents’ house until I was eight, then they moved into an assisted living home. My grandmother was forty-seven when my mother was born, so when Mom was thirty-five, her mother was eighty-two. Long story short, Mom loves this home and my parents moved us in because she couldn’t bear to part with it.” He eyed the exterior. “It needs some work, I know. Mom’s been renovating the inside and plans to work her way out.”
“Your mother’s doing the renovations?”
“Yep. She’s a pretty amazing woman.”
“Sounds like it. I look forward to meeting her.”
He made no move to open the door.
“Sometime today? Maybe?”
He choked on a laugh and opened the car door. She followed him up the four steps to the wraparound porch. The double swing in the right-hand corner invited her to sit on it, and the bistro table with two chairs begged for a tray of tea and biscuits.
“It’s so lovely.”
“Thanks.”
A rush of anxiety swept through her and she rubbed her palms down her thighs. Why was she so nervous? It wasn’t like this was a “meet the parents, meet the parents” kind of dinner. It was just . . . dinner. A gathering together to share food and enjoy company. She was there to be a buffer—whatever that meant.
He gripped her fingers and she prayed he didn’t notice they were clammy.
Of course he noticed. “Don’t get too far from me, okay?”
She frowned. “Okay. I thought you said this was safe enough. Aren’t Travis and Asher somewhere watching the house?”
“Yes, they are, but I wasn’t worried about you, I was worried about me.”
“So, you were serious about the buffer thing?”
He shot her a surprised look. “Of course. I haven’t been this nervous since I asked you out for the first time.”
“You get nervous?” He narrowed his eyes, and she bit her lip on a smile. “Are you going to knock?”
“Knock? No.”
“Then should we leave?”
He twisted the knob. “Nope. I guess it’s go time. For better or worse.”
Interesting choice of words.
He stepped inside and she followed him into the small foyer.
“Gavin? Is that you?” The woman’s voice came from the delicious-smelling kitchen.
“Of course it is. You need to lock your door.”
“Not when I know you’re coming.” She stepped into view, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “And you must be Sarah.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m Priscilla Black. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The woman held out an elegant hand and Sarah shook it. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. Well, come on into the kitchen and grab something to drink. We don’t stand