“What do you think?” Joel’s question tugs at my attention.
He stands to the side of the couch, looking down at me and then over to the decorations he’s just set up.
“It’s not too much but it’s a little something,” he adds.
I swallow the lump in my throat, not understanding all of the emotion that overcomes me.
“If I had a little more time I could’ve pulled something nicer together, but … well …” He trails off.
That’s when I look at him again.
There’s anticipation in his hazel eyes. As if he’s truly dependent on my response.
“It looks great,” I finally say.
He nods. “That daughter of yours was the one who chose the wreath color. It goes with the feel of your house.” He does a sweep of my home with his eyes before they land on me again. “I just picked up a few things that matched what she’d already chosen.”
He stands there for an awkward moment, glancing around at the decor, the rest of my living room, and then at me.
I stifle the grin that threatens to emerge at seeing the hardened exterior of this incredibly sexy, grey-haired rancher slip.
Whereas I originally parted my lips to tell him that buying any decor was completely and utterly unnecessary, what comes out is, “Thank you. Everything looks beautiful.”
He pinches his lips together before nodding.
“I should get goin’,” he says after a beat. “Micah and Jodi will be over soon with the kids to start Thanksgiving dinner.”
“It’s only Tuesday,” I say, in part because I’m not entirely sure I want him to leave yet.
A rumbling chuckle comes from him. “That daughter-in-law of mine is in charge of the desserts every year and she always starts two days before Thanksgiving.” He shakes his head, a smile whispering across his lips.
It’s infectious.
He might be a bit of a blowhard but he’s a man who loves his family.
“It’s my job to keep the kids out of her hair while she preps. Micah too.”
“Micah? He’s your son?”
“Oldest.”
“Ah.” I nod. “The private investigator.”
Joel narrows his eyes, looking down at me.
“What? You didn’t think I’d move into a neighborhood without doing a little research on my neighbors? All I had to dowas put in your name and the website for his security company is like the second or third link that pops up. After your ranch’s site, of course.”
“Naturally.” He nods.
Joel does a grunt-chuckle as he shakes his head.
“What?” I ask.
“He was a Texas Ranger before becoming a PI. If you’d asked me years ago if I’d have a son who worked anywhere near law enforcement, I would’ve told you, you were loonier than that old show with the talking horse.”
“Why’s that? Not a fan of law enforcement?”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “More like its worst nightmare.” He shrugs. “For those who weren’t on my business’ payroll, anyway.”
