everything having to do with his mother and childhood.
He shook his head. “No. I’d like you to meet him.”
She wanted to meet him too. Wanted to know as much about Troy as she could.
A car door opened and closed, and a few seconds later, someone rapped on the door. Troy blew out a breath. When he opened the screen, Julie felt as if she’d been blown forward in time. The man on the porch looked like Troy Mills twenty-five years in the future.
Troy’s uncle’s dark hair sported gray patches at the temples, but his dark eyes were just as intense as his nephew’s. They had the same facial structure, the same physical structure. Tall, broad and healthy. No wonder the store clerk had recognized him.
Zach Mills took a few seconds to look at his nephew before launching himself forward and wrapping him in a massive bear hug. Zach’s eyes closed tight and his lips compressed together in a straight line, and because Julie felt like an intruder on the private moment, she looked away from the emotion on the older man’s face. She didn’t move or disturb the reunion that so very clearly mattered to Troy’s uncle. Zach finally pulled away and a sad smile curved his lips.
“You look good, son,” he said, his voice husky. “Real good.” He slapped Troy’s arm in a gesture that spoke of pride and honest love.
“So do you,” Troy said, standing aside so his uncle could enter.
Zach stared at Troy, his eyes glassy. “It’s good to hear your voice,” he muttered. Then he spotted her. His brows lifted, but he just smiled and came forward with his hand outstretched.
“This is Julie,” Troy said as she shook Zach’s hand. “She’s a friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you,” Zach said. If he recognized her, he kept it to himself. His attention went right back to Troy. “You keeping my nephew out of trouble?” he asked.
Nothing like a loaded question to kick off the conversation. “I’m doing the best I can,” she said with a quick nod of her head.
“Notice anything different about the place?” Zach asked.
Julie could see only his profile, but the unmistakable pleasure in his voice accompanied a load of pride.
Troy smiled and nodded. “A few things.” He gestured toward the sofa. “Get comfortable. It’s your place.”
Zach didn’t waste any time and he sat down. He looked between Troy and her, and she got the distinct impression that maybe she needed to let them have their privacy.
“I’ll just go in the other room and let you guys catch up.” She turned to go.
“Don’t.”
She glanced at Troy, at the invitation in his eyes to stay. Maybe Zach wanted to be alone with his nephew, but Troy didn’t necessarily want that.
Julie looked from Troy to Zach and back to Troy. “Are you sure? I just thought you’d want to talk to your uncle in private.”
“There’s not much he can say that you don’t already know.” His gaze said it all. He’d opened himself up to her and that was something he didn’t do often. She knew it, just as she knew what she felt for him was a lot more than lust or a simple fling. He mattered to her and with this invitation, he showed she mattered to him too.
But one look at Zach told a different story. “Uh, Troy, maybe we could have a few minutes alone.” He withdrew a small pink book from the big pocket of his denim shirt.
Troy considered his uncle for a few seconds, but shook his head. “Julie can hear anything you have to tell me.”
Zach looked at her, assessed her the way Troy had done on different occasions, and finally nodded his head. “Okay, then.”
* * *
Troy watched Zach fiddle with the book in his hand. It looked like a diary with yellowing pages between pink covers. His uncle’s scrutiny made him uncomfortably aware of the time that had passed since they’d last seen each other.
In all the years he’d been gone, he’d never made contact with his uncle. It would have been suicide to try while still living with his father, and once he’d moved away from dear old dad, he’d still never made the effort. Maybe a part of him felt betrayed by his uncle for never coming to save him.
Julie took a seat next to him on the sofa, offering much-needed support. Watching his uncle, Troy felt a sudden flash of foreboding in his gut that didn’t make any sense. It sat there anyway, winding