Page 37 of The Wedding Driver
She tilted her head. “Did you just say boyfriend?”
“Too weird?”
“No. I like the sound of it.” She raised up on tiptoe and kissed him, hard. It was the kind of kiss that shouldn’t be done in a public place.
Normally, he hated all public displays of affection. But not tonight. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and heaved her to his chest. His tongue swirled around hers in a hot, wild dance. His body wanted to forget about dinner and go straight back to his place, but that would be rude. Reluctantly, he pulled back. “We should get back to your sister and her husband.” He took her by the hand and guided her toward the newly renovated restaurant that had been closed down for two years. “I’ve been looking forward to checking out this place. Did you know that Doug and Jim did the work?”
“I remember you helping them.” Tonya laughed. “You told me that three ex-military brothers own the Blue Moon.”
“I think they were special forces. Quiet types,” he said. “I met them the other day. Nice men. Lake’s sister seemed to be interested in one of them.”
“Quiet describes you.” She nudged him with her hip. “There are times when hanging with you the silence is deafening.”
“I’m working on that.” He opened the door off the patio and did his best not to let his mood sour again as they passed Kathy’s table.
She sat with three other girlfriends, one of which he recognized. It didn’t matter. That was his past.
Tonya was his future.
10
“Hey.” Tonya squeezed Foster’s shoulder as they approached his truck in the parking lot after saying goodbye to her sister and Gael. “We can go look for Victoria before we head home.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put a damper on such a wonderful evening.”
“You didn’t.” Being with Foster meant that Victoria was part of their relationship. Tonya accepted that long before she asked him out. She didn’t pretend to understand his attachment to his ex-wife, but she’d support it.
“Last time I saw her, she was hanging in the alley across the street, but my sources told me she’s been sick or something.”
“What kind of sick?”
“A friend of hers said she’s been limping. Maybe injured. But she hasn’t been around much and he’s been worried.”
She’d been with him on numerous occasions where they’d searched for hours, chatting with various men and women living on the streets. They had a code they lived by, and most wouldn’t break it. However, they did care deeply for one another, for the most part, and when one was hurting, they would often tell a trusted outsider.
Foster didn’t always fit that bill. Some of Victoria’s friends stayed clear of Foster because he’d broken Victoria’s trust a time or two. They viewed him as someone who would call the cops or turn them in. But they had no problem taking his food. However, there were a few who believed Foster cared and they would always give him good information.
“Did he have specifics?” she asked.
“Not really. But why don’t we walk, and on the way back, we can get an ice cream, if you want.”
“That sounds nice.”
In silence, they made their way toward the convenience store, where they stopped and picked up a few things for Victoria and others. The alley was two more side streets away. It wasn’t the best part of town, but it wasn’t unsafe either. It amazed her how many homeless people there were in the village. It broke her heart, but at the same time, it made her feel as though she was a bad person for not doing enough to help them.
He handed out water and bags of chips. Everyone smiled and thanked Foster, many using his name. Two people pointed down the alley, indicating Victoria’s location. “There she is,” Foster said, holding Tonya’s hand harder.
It was never easy for him to see Victoria this way. He had a big heart and even though he still placed blame on her for what happened, he wanted her to get help.
“Victoria,” he said calmly.
She sat against the building, her legs stretched out, dirt covering her ratty, ripped jeans. She had no shoes and her feet had dried blood on them. She wiped her long, greasy hair from her face. “Did you bring me money?”
“No.” He knelt down. “I’ve got food and water.” He set the bag next to her and tentatively ran a hand over her ankle. “It looks like you were bleeding. Did you get hurt?”
“I’m fine. I need money.”
“Maybe we should go get you checked out.” He reached out and tilted her chin. A cut appeared on the side of her face, along with a nasty bruise. “What happened here?”
