Page 133 of Fourth Point Of Contact

“He might not even use them,” I reminded her. “Men don’t normally care about table cloths.”

“His father always did.”

“Probably because he knew you cared.”

She smiled at that. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

She wrinkled her nose as someone else walked in with the giant American flag carved into wood that would hang on the wall. “That is not a picture.”

“No, but he’ll like it.”

“I don’t know why,” she sighed.

I knew none of this was her style, but it suited Patrick. I had to remember that. Nearly everything was moved in, but there was still one thing missing, and I hoped it was delivered before he came home from work. I really wanted him to see this when he walked into the house.

“Well, it’s not my style, but you brought life to this house,” Debra beamed.

“I hope he likes it.”

She chuckled beside me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Whether he likes it or not, I don’t think it really matters.”

“Why?”

“Because all he cares about is you.”

The way she was looking at me—that tender look told me all I needed to know. I’d played my part so well. She looked at me like a mother. God, I’d been fooling this woman all along, and she was nothing but kind to me. This had to stop. I couldn’t keep doing this.

“Debra—”

“Oh, here he comes.”

My head whipped up just as the movers walked out and Patrick hobbled in. The hesitancy on his face was nearly my undoing. What if he hated it all? Had I misread him?

Debra slid her hand in mine, giving a tight squeeze as he looked around at all the new decorations and furniture. My stomach churned with unease as I second-guessed every single choice I’d made.

“I spent too much money,” I murmured.

“Nonsense. I was there with you. I would have told you if you were spending too much money.”

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to where Patrick was studying one of the newest wall hangings. It was a guide to military weapons that I’d had framed. I thought it looked pretty sleek, but maybe he would think it was stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

He tore his gaze from the picture and grinned at me. “I couldn’t stand the anticipation.”

“You were nervous I’d decorate everything with throw pillows and flowers.”

“Nah,” his eyes twinkled. “That’s not your style.”

It actually was my style, but this wasn’t my house. Then again, maybe that’s what he was saying.

“So, this is the new table, huh?” He nodded his head toward the dining room, making his way over.

“Yeah, uh…I thought this would be good because it expands, but the leaves fold into the table. That way, you don’t have to deal with taking out the leaves.”

He nodded, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s sturdy. Cool.”

Cool? I hoped that was a good thing, but before I could ask, he’d already moved on to another picture. I watched as he catalogued everything I’d added, spending more time on some things than others. He stopped at the wooden flag on the wall and frowned.

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