“Ah,” Joy sat in the corner of the couch Jensen and Rachel just vacated and went on dreamily, “Young love.”
“Joy, they’re both fifty-five years old,” Lila told her.
Joy looked at Belle, winked and amended, “Ah, young-at-heart love.”
Belle smiled at his mother and Jack realised as his chest squeezed in a mixture of pain and pleasure, he hadn’t seen her smile at all since the accident but today, with her father’s unexpected appearance, she’d smiled several times
It was then Jack thought that perhaps he should have let Jensen have his party.
Suddenly Angus stood up and demanded, “Bennett, a word.”
Belle went tight at his side and Jack tipped his head back to look at the Scot.
“Is it necessary you have your word now?” Jack asked calmly.
“It was necessary I have it three weeks ago. But now’s going to have to do,” Angus shot back.
Belle’s tight body got tighter and Jack felt his jaw follow suit.
“Is something wrong?” Belle asked.
Angus’s face softened when he looked down at Belle. “Nothing’s wrong, lass.”
“But –”
“Just want a word with your man,” Angus went on.
Jack felt her body get as tight as it was that morning when it felt like it would shatter at the slightest movement before she asked, “Is it about the third ghost?”
“Let’s not worry about ghosts for now, shall we?” Joy said hurriedly and Jack’s gaze cut to his mother.
She knew something, something that concerned her greatly, a reaction she was trying to hide.
Jack instantly made his decision.
He gave Belle a squeeze and a kiss on the side of her head before he said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Belle’s eyes never left him as he stood, her expression was anxious and her cheeks had lost the healthy glow her father’s visit had returned there and were again pale.
He leaned over her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and he pressed a kiss against her lips then whispered, “I’ll only be a minute, poppet.”
“Okay,” she whispered back.
His eyes sliced to Angus then he led the way to his study.
He closed the door and saw Angus standing, legs planted wide, arms crossed on his barrel chest when Jack turned to the room.
“You got whisky?” Angus asked.
“It’s ten thirty,” Jack replied. “Can you wait until an appropriate hour to have a drink?”
“It’s not for me, lad, it’s for you.”
Jack did not think that boded well.
“Speak fast, McPherson, I need to get back to Belle.”
“What you need to do, Bennett, is to quit molly-coddling her. She’ll find her way.”