Page 9 of The One for Forever

“Who says I’m ready?” I ask Max.

He regards me with sympathetic yet unyielding eyes. “Lydia probably would.”

Ouch. Hitting me right where it hurts.

Next March, it will be eleven years since Lydia passed. She was my high school sweetheart. The woman I was supposed to spend my best years with. And still, I’ve never loved any woman but her. I probably never will. But enough time has passed that I’m not eaten alive by grief. Not anymore. I can think back on our marriage with gratitude for everything we shared. For the son we raised together.

But it’s another thing to imagine finding someone new.

I want to argue that I’m happy with my life. I like having an objective. A mission. I’m usually either focused on work, or on Cliff. Even though my kid isn’t interested in being the focus of my attention, and he hasn’t for a long time. As for work,it’s great. I love that I get to help people, whether it’s through Bennett Security or Team Triumph.

And even if I did want more, how the heck would I find it? I’m forty-nine years old. Next year I’ll be…jeez, I can’t even think about that. The thought of starting all over, of dating, is even scarier than the prospect of a hundred-page spreadsheet.

I glance over the room, hoping again that I’ll spot Cliff. Maybe I can use my son as an excuse to avoid this conversation.

And that’s when I spot her.

I see Lana first, cheeks glowing, a hand on her pregnant belly. But there’s another woman talking to Lana, and that’s where my gaze sticks. This woman is in a fitted blue dress, dark blond hair swept up off her shoulders. Her back is to me, so I can’t see her face. Yet there’s something familiar about her. Something that makes me pause. Linger.

I can’t say what it is about her. If it’s her smooth skin, or her hourglass shape, or the delicate bones of her shoulders. But I can’t look away.

“Notice someone?”

I can hear the smirk in Max’s voice, but I ignore it. “Who is she?” I ask.

“She works with Lana. One of the deputy district attorneys who Lana wants extra security for. I forget her name. Lana will introduce you.”

I force myself to turn and face Max instead. “So she’s the client.”

Max is the first person to remind any bodyguard on our team never to touch a client. Even if he wastechnicallyprotecting Lana when they got together.

“Okay, she’s off limits. But you can at least flirt a little. Get some practice in. I mean, look, she’s definitely noticedyou.”

When I turn back around, the blond is staring at me. My breath catches. She really is beautiful. A full, pink mouth.Button nose, eyes I can tell from here will be blue or green. Makeup accentuates her features, but she has the kind of beauty that shines through no matter what she does. My chest warms, tightens, overwhelmed again by that sense of familiarity. Comfort, even.

Then it dawns on me like a bucket of ice water splashing down onto my head.

“That’sQuinn,” I blurt out.

“I thought you didn’t know her.”

“She looks different tonight. I didn’t realize.”Didn’t realize I was just ogling my son’s best friend.

“Even better. No need to break the ice.” Max grips my shoulder, steering me toward the women. Quinn has an expression on her pretty face that I can’t interpret. I can’t sort out my thoughts, either.

Since when does little Quinn Ainsley look likethat?

Then a flash a movement distracts me. Pulls my attention at some instinctual level. There’s a guy walking toward Lana and Quinn, which shouldn’t be anything remarkable. Plenty of people here tonight want to rub elbows with the district attorney. But this guy doesn’t fit. His suit is okay, but the shoes are all wrong. Scuffed up and dirty the way no self-respecting lawyer or cop would wear to an event like this. His eyes are too intense. Too purposeful.

The guy reaches inside his blazer.

Fuck.

3

Ifeel Max tense beside me. He just spotted the guy too. But I’m already on the move.

“Hey,” I shout, sprinting toward him. His hand withdraws from his blazer, and whatever he’s holding glints in the light. He’s trying to aim it at Quinn and Lana.

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