honey,” her mother replied. “Gabby wants to tell you about how she and her pawpaw are out back playing golf—with Gabby’s miniature set.”
“Okay.”
She heard giggles and then Gabby’s voice. “Mommy, I wuv that golf car.”
“You do? Are you and Pawpaw having a good time?”
“Uh-huh. When will you be here? You can ride with me.”
“I’d like that. I’m on my way. About thirty minutes or so, all right?”
“Aw-wight. Here’s Memaw.” And her daughter was off again.
Coming home had been the right thing. Gabby had improved so much since they’d moved back to Millbrook.
Marla had to smile at the image of Gabby and Pawpaw riding around the complex. Her father had learned to play golf after they’d moved to the retirement village and now he loved the sport. Gabby liked watching out the patio door to see if Pawpaw would ride by in his funny little “car.” So Daddy had found her a cute pink-and-green golf set. Marla’s father was the only male Gabby would get near and even that had taken months to accomplish.
“He’ll probably find her a nice pint-size golf cart next,” she said to her mom, laughing.
“He’s already on that one,” Mom replied. “Why don’t you rest up and then come for dinner? I’m making lasagna.”
“Hmmm, that does sound good.” Mom made the best lasagna. “Okay. I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“That’ll work,” Mom replied. “See you then—and you can tell me all about that Alvanetti wedding.”
Marla laughed, ended the call and got out of the van to unload. Most of the time, she’d slice up the cake on-site and wrap it up to give to the family members, but today, in such a big place with so many plastered but skinny society girls, no one would dare ask for a piece of wedding cake to take home. And Mrs. Alvanetti and the groom’s mother had both taken big slices and had saved the top layer for the couple’s first anniversary, but had insisted on Marla taking the rest.
“Give it to a homeless shelter,” Mrs. A had said with a Lady Bountiful smile.
“I just might do that,” Marla had replied. But she’d take a couple of pieces for her parents and Gabby, too.
Then she thought about Alec Caldwell. He’d probably have his slice with a big glass of milk. With that close-cropped blondish-brown hair and those hazel eyes, he did look like the all-American type. The gung-ho all-around-good-guy type.
But not her type—at least not anymore. He might be out of the military, but his kind always looked for adventure. Plus, he had obviously been an upper-crust preppy, from what she could remember from hearing his name and background. So had her late husband. Charlie had been spoiled and pampered all of his life so he’d expected things to come easily to him. But he had saved Gabby and his employee.
Marla thanked God for that sacrifice. But she was afraid of moving on, afraid of getting involved with any man so soon after losing Charlie. Like her frightened daughter, she had been traumatized. Both by her husband’s horrible death and by how horrible they’d both made their once-happy marriage.
But who was she to judge? She’d had a decent enough life growing up in Millbrook. Her college days in Tallahassee had been full of friends, and she’d been with Charlie, so it hadn’t been all bad between them. At least Charlie had left a trust fund in his will for Gabby’s future.
Marla shook her head and came back to the present again. What Alec Caldwell had done or did now was none of her business. She’d probably never have another encounter with the man anyway.
So Marla unloaded her supplies and finished tidying up around the bakery. Her two other employees had already gone home for the day, so she set the alarm and locked things up until Monday morning. Then she got in her van and headed southeast toward her parents’ house. “Sorry, Soldier Boy. You’re adorable and interesting, but I need to forget I ever almost ran into you.”
Just as well. He probably had a society darling in his life anyway.
Alec saw his friends sitting at a round table in the corner of the Back Bay Pizza House. Waving, he headed for the table, thoughts of Wedding Cake Girl as fresh as buttercream icing in his mind. He’d enjoyed that nice slab of cake she’d given him yesterday, but a good meal with these characters would cure him of any sugary feelings he might have. That, and the workout his physical therapist had just put him through an hour ago. He’d do anything to lessen the limp that slowed him down on a daily basis.
He didn’t intend to mention that he’d met Marla Hamilton. His buddies were all bachelors, but lately they’d singled him out for blind dates and matchmaker testing. He didn’t want to be the first one to cave.
“About time you got here,” Detective Blain Kent said when Alec slid into a chunky wooden chair. “We’re about to order.”
“And he’ll have a fully loaded meat-and-cheese, right?” Rory Sanderson, once an army chaplain and now a minister, said with a grin. “Am I right, Alec?”
The Back Bay Pizza House was famous for fat pizzas that oozed with plenty of cheese and meat—or veggies, if you liked eating produce with pizza dough, which Alec did not.
“Right as rain,” Alec replied with a grin. “And I don’t plan on sharing.”
Hunter Lawson, as always, didn’t have much to say beyond a greeting that consisted of lifting a hand in the air. Former special ops, Hunter came and went so fast, half the time no one even knew he was around. A native of Oklahoma, Hunter hadn’t decided if he liked Florida yet or not. He liked to wander around and sleep on couches. Definitely commitment-shy.
“So how’d it go with Mama Alvanetti?” Blain, a former Marine MP, asked after they’d ordered three loaded pizzas and their drinks.
Knowing that Blain’s detective brain was always in overdrive, especially when it came to the slightly-on-the-right-side-of-shady Alvanetti family, Alec tried to tread lightly. “I finally got a chance to talk to her—after the big wedding yesterday.”
Blain’s blue eyes went dark. “It’s always hard to pin down an Alvanetti. Did she agree to help fund Caldwell Canines?”
Alec nodded and waited for the waitress to pass their drinks around. “She did, but she was just finishing up with her niece’s wedding and right after that, about to turn around and leave town for a while. I grabbed her generous check and got out of there.”
They all laughed and moved on to other topics, catching up with baseball stats and anything sports-related. The four of them had formed a bond right here at the pizza house during a fierce game of darts, and after serving in the military, they’d migrated back to Millbrook Lake. They’d made friendships that would last forever; these weekly meals and the occasional fishing weekend out at the camp house they’d all bought together suited Alec just fine.
That bond extended to their faith, too. When they were about to leave, Rory, often called Preacher, turned to Alec.
“Hey, we’re having this dinner at church Wednesday night. Kind of a singles thing, but more of a business thing. Thought I’d extend an invitation to you—but not for the obvious reason. The theme this week is local businesses and organizations.”
“I certainly fill that bill,” Alec replied, wondering what the catch was.
Rory grinned his boyish smile. “Thought you might bring some of your Caldwell Canines business cards and host a booth with your brochures, maybe even bring one of your service dogs. Good networking opportunities. A lot of other locals from all over the area will be there, and since we have a lot of returning vets around here...”
Alec