Page 72 of More Than a Hero
“It’s only about a mile,” Jimmy added. “On our bikes, that doesn’t take too long.”
As she closed the door behind him, it suddenly dawned on her to ask, “Did anyone else come with you today?”
“Usually Caleb or Jalen would, but they had homework and a test to study for, so it’s just me.”
“Well, Mr. Marty and I are just finishing up some forms. Then I’m going to check on Gerald. If you want to visit with Mr. Marty for a bit, I’ll go see Mr. Gerald. After that, if you’re ready, we can load your bike in the back of the van, and I’ll give you a ride home.”
Jimmy’s face lit up with gratitude. “That’d be nice, Ms. Angie.”
She smiled and gave a small wave to Marty before heading down the walk to the next apartment. She found Gerald in his living room, where she helped him navigate the same website he’d struggled with before. Once he was squared away, she made her way toward the parking lot and spotted Jimmy waiting near the van.
“All set?” she asked as she pulled open the back door.
“Yeah, no problem.” He quickly lifted his bicycle and maneuvered it into the back.
Angie slid into the driver’s seat, following the route Jimmy had suggested. He was right—it was only about a mile, and they completely avoided the highway. The drive was short, easy, and surprisingly peaceful.
As she pulled into the apartment complex parking lot, Jimmy suddenly pointed out the window. “Look! Isn’t that Mr. Pete?”
Angie’s heart gave its familiar, foolish lurch at the sound of his name. She turned her head, and sure enough, there he was—stepping out of his SUV with the unassuming swagger of a man who was confident but didn’t have to prove it. Sunlight hit his profile just right, casting sharp shadows over his strong jaw, his stance solid and sure.
“You’re right,” she murmured, barely aware she was speaking.
Jimmy wasted no time jumping out of the van, waving enthusiastically. “Hey, Mr. Pete!”
Pete turned at the sound of his name, his expression briefly surprised before his gaze settled on Angie. The boys from the complex were already gathering, surrounding him like he was some sort of local hero. He greeted them all, but there was no mistaking the way his attention shifted entirely to her as he closed the distance between them.
Angie tilted her chin up, a slow, teasing smile curling her lips. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said, adding a playful wink for good measure.
Pete’s lips twitched in response, his eyes warm as they met hers. “Yeah, what are the odds?”
For a moment, everything else faded—the boys talking, the sounds of the parking lot, even Jimmy securing his bike. It was just the two of them, caught in that electric pull she was starting to recognize all too well.
Pete’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at Jimmy. “Where’d you pick up your hitchhiker?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Jimmy, clearly unfazed, puffed up slightly. “I rode my bike to visit Mr. Marty.”
Before Angie could add anything, a couple of the other boys chimed in, nodding eagerly.
“Yeah! Sometimes we ride over to visit our adopted grandparents, too,” one of them said. “We see them on Thursdays, but we go by after school sometimes, too.”
Pete shifted his gaze to Angie, one brow lifting in mild curiosity.
She shook her head, offering a small smile. “I didn’t know until today.”
Pete’s expression softened, but his voice carried the weight of authority as he addressed the boys. “As long as your parents or guardians know,” he cautioned.
“They do,” one of the boys quickly assured him. “And we always check with our adopted grandparents first to make sure they’re home.”
Pete seemed satisfied with that, nodding before one of the boys piped up, tilting his head. “What are you doing here, Mr. Pete?”
He hesitated for half a beat, the shift in his demeanor so subtle most wouldn’t notice. But Angie did. Realizing it must be official business, she jumped in smoothly. “He has to make visits, just like I do.”
The explanation seemed good enough for the kids, and after a few more goodbyes, they scattered, waving as they headed back toward their apartments.
As soon as they were alone, Pete turned to her, his lips quirking as he slid his arm around her waist in a quick but familiar gesture. “Thanks for that,” he murmured, voice low enough that only she could hear.
Angie glanced up at him, her heart doing the ridiculous little skip it always did when he touched her. “I had a feeling you must be here for something official.”
