uniformed officers filled the front page. Sam couldn’t remember ever being hugged by his craggy, hard-nosed father. Holy mother of...
“I don’t know. It’s only me and one deputy on the force.”
Joe tapped the sheet of paper. “It’s for firefighters and paramedics, too. We could bring in neighboring towns—make it a regional event. Plus civil servants, city council. You’re looking at a long-term reappointment, right? This could make quite an impression as far as your potential.”
At the mention of his possible future in Brevia, Sam lost the battle with his temper. “My potential as what? I’m the chief of police, not the hug-it-out type.”
His father’s sharp intake of breath made Sam regret his outburst. “Sorry. You know what a small town this is and—”
Joe held up a hand. “Don’t apologize.” He removed his bifocals and dabbed at his eyes with a napkin.
“You aren’t going to cry,” Sam muttered, disbelieving. “You don’t cry.”
“Yes. I am going to cry. To take a moment and feel my pain.”
Great. This was the second time today he’d brought someone to tears.
After a loud nose blow, Joe’s watery gaze met his. “I feel my pain, and I feel yours.”
“I’m not in pain.” Sam let his eyes drift shut. “Other than a raging headache.”
Joe ignored him and continued, “I did this to you, Sammy.”
Sammy? His father hadn’t called him Sammy since—
“When your mother died my whole world collapsed. I didn’t think I could live without her. I didn’t want to. It broke me a little more every day to see you and your brother that sad. I did the only thing I could to survive. I shut off my heart, and I made you do the same. I was wrong. I’m here to make it right again.”
Sam saw customers from the surrounding tables begin to stare. “It’s okay. Let’s go outside for a minute.”
Joe followed Sam’s gaze and shook his head. “I’m not embarrassed to show my feelings. Not anymore.” He took another breath, this one steadier. “Ever since the incident with my ole ticker.” He thumped his sweatshirt. “They say facing death can make you reevaluate your whole life.”
“It was indigestion, Dad. Not a real heart attack. Remember?”
“Doesn’t matter. The change to my heart was real. The effect on my life was real.” He readjusted his glasses. “I want the same change for you. I want you to be happy.”
“I’m fine.” Sam gulped a mouthful of ice and crunched. “Happy as a clam.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
Alarm bells went off in Sam’s head. “I...sure...am actually. She’s great.” He looked away from his father’s expectant face, unable to lie to him directly. He glanced around the crowded restaurant and his gaze landed on Julia at a booth in the back. He hadn’t noticed her when he’d first walked in, but now he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
This must be the meeting with her ex-boyfriend’s family she’d told him about. The faces of the two women seated across from her were blocked, but Julia’s cheeks flamed pink. Her palm smacked the table as if she was about to lose control.
Easy there, sweetheart, he counseled silently.
As if she’d heard him, her eyes met his and held for several moments. His pulse hammered against his throat. Then she squared her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap.
He turned back to his father. “You’d like her. She’s a real spitfire.”
Joe smiled. “Like your mother.”
Sam forced himself not to look at Julia again. “I was ten when she died. I don’t remember that much.”
“This one’s different than your other girls?”
Sam caught the waitress’s attention and signaled for the check.
“Because I think you need a new perspective. After what happened with...”
“I don’t want to rehash my relationship history.”
Joe reached across the table and clasped Sam’s hand in his. “I know you want to find love and settle down.”
Sam heard a loud cough behind him and found the young waitress staring. Her look could only be described as predatory. Fantastic. Sam had dated some when he’d first come to town but had kept to himself recently, finding it easier and less complicated to be alone. The way gossip went viral in Brevia, he’d have a fresh line of eligible women in front of his office by morning.
“I told you,” Sam said, loud enough for the waitress to hear. “I’ve got a girlfriend. We’re very happy.”
The waitress dropped the check on the table with a humph and stalked away.
“It’s serious?” Joe asked.
Sam’s gaze wandered to Julia again. “Very,” he muttered as she jabbed a finger across the table. This time his mental warning to not lose control didn’t reach her. Her voice grew so loud that people at surrounding tables turned.
“I want to meet her,” his dad said, rubbing his palms together, oblivious to the commotion behind him. “Why don’t you give her a call and see if she can meet us for dessert? If she’s so wonderful, I can help make sure you don’t blow it.”
At the moment, Sam wasn’t worried about screwing up anything himself or producing a nonexistent girlfriend for his dad to fawn over. Instead he felt the need to avert someone else’s disaster. “I’ll be right back.”
Joe grabbed his arm as he started past. “Don’t be sore, Sammy. I was joking. You’re a great catch.”
Sam shrugged out of his father’s grasp. “I need a minute. Stay here.”
He darted around a passing waiter as he made his way to Julia, who now stood in front of the booth.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she shouted. All eyes on this side of the restaurant were glued to her.
Just as he reached her, Julia picked up a glass of water from the table. Sam leaned in and wrapped his fingers around hers before she could hurl it at anyone.
“Hey there, sugar,” he said as he pulled her tense body tight to his side. “I didn’t realize your meeting was at Carl’s tonight. You doing okay?”
“Let go of me,” she said on a hiss of breath. “This is none of your concern.”
“Well, I am concerned,” he whispered then plastered on a wide smile. “I haven’t met your new friends yet.”
She squirmed against him. “They aren’t my—”
“Howdy, folks,” Sam interrupted, turning his attention to the two strangers staring at him. “I’m Sam Callahan. A...uh...friend of Julia’s.”
The woman in the corner practically screamed “old money,” from her sophisticated haircut to her tailored suit. A thick strand of pearls hung around her neck and a massive diamond sparkled on her left hand. The way her gaze narrowed, she must be Charlie’s paternal grandmother. Next to her was a younger woman, tiny and bookish. Her big owl eyes blinked from behind retro glasses. Faint streaks of color stole up her neck from the collar of her starched oxford shirt as she watched the two of them.
“Friend?” The older woman scoffed. “Latest conquest, no doubt.” She nudged the woman beside her. “Are you taking notes on this? She’s now flaunting her boy toy in front of us.”
Boy toy? Sam’s smile vanished and he worked to keep his voice pleasant. “Excuse me, ma’am, you have the wrong idea—”
She