Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,43

maintenance?”

“Why would he think that?” Erin knew that as the babies of both families, Caitlyn and Bekki had had fewer responsibilities growing up than the others. They were both happy, exuberant, loved to laugh, and loved to have a good time. But they both set goals and worked hard, not expecting anyone to do things for them.

Caitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know, but if that’s the persona I give off, then I’m not surprised it’s been forever since I’ve had a serious offer. Of course, that doesn’t take into consideration the one-liners that get thrown at me when I’m at a bar!” She rolled her eyes and added, “Now that Bekki has found love, she’s decided to try to set me up with one of Killian’s brothers.”

“You sound like you’re not very interested.”

“I’m not! And I don’t know why. Of course, if I did go out with him and it ended badly, it could hurt my friendship, and I’d never want to do that.” She shrugged, her nose scrunching. “I guess I always thought that, eventually, I’d find someone in education who understood what it was like to work with teenagers.”

“What about that track coach you were talking about when I first came home?”

“Well, we did go out once. Let me just describe him as saying, ‘What a douche!’”

Now it was Erin’s turn to bark out a laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Caitlyn had sipped on wine, nibbled on snacks, and talked about men.

Soon it was time to go, and they stood, arms wrapped around each other, sister hearts beating as one.

“I know that Mom wants to have a pre-marathon meal,” she brought up, butterflies in her stomach at what she was about to ask. “How do you think she’d feel if I brought someone with me? Someone I’ve been… running with?”

Caitlyn must have picked up on her nervousness as she cocked her head to the side, her eyes bright. “A man?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it now, but yes. It’s Torin Flanigan.”

Caitlyn blinked, but in perfect sister mode, she simply smiled and nodded. “You absolutely should invite him over. I think the family would love knowing that you found someone to… um… run with.”

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. Opening the door, she turned one last time and reached out to grab Caitlyn’s hand, squeezing it. “Thanks for being an awesome little sister and not giving up on me.”

Moisture gathered in Caitlyn’s eyes, and she blinked. “Thank you for being an awesome big sister.”

With a final goodbye, Erin jogged down the stairs and out to her car, wondering if her heart could continue to feel lighter and lighter.

Tucker Family Home

Timothy sat at the end of his kitchen table, listening carefully to the discussion. Bob had handed out beers all around, but while the other other men imbibed liberally, Timothy waited. He wanted to make sure he understood what was being said. There will be time for celebrating later.

Marty sat to his left and Bob to his right. Across from him was his nephew, Tyrone, now living in North Carolina. He used to live in Hope City, also working on the docks, but had moved away when he got married. Now, it seemed he had a decent job, a wife, and kids. If Timothy hadn’t liked his nephew so much, he’d be pissed that Tyrone had what Timothy wanted for his boys.

Pushing those thoughts to the side, he zeroed his attention on the man Tyrone had brought with him. Tyrone had been in the military and said he had a buddy that was always looking for extra work and knew more about explosives than anyone else Tyrone had ever met. The only question Timothy had asked was, “Do you trust him?” When the response came back, “With my life,” Timothy announced that was good enough for him.

Now, Tyrone’s buddy, Roger Fratelli, was sitting at the end of the table with the tablet he was tapping on, turning it around to show the others the pictures he’d pulled up. “This shit is easy to make. Lethal, but easy. It’s been used by insurgents in the Middle East for years.”

“I don’t get how you can use something out of the kitchen as a bomb,” Bob grumbled, leaning back in his seat with a scowl on his face.

Roger barely glanced his way. “It’s like any type of IED—”

“IED?” Bob shook his head, his scowl deepened. “That’s what the foreigners use over there against our soldiers. That ain’t no kitchen appliance!”

Roger’s