“It’s nice to meet you. We never get the chance to meet anyone Vince dates all the way down in San Antonio.”
“It’s ninety minutes, Dad.”
“Come in out of this heat,” Margie said as Ray held the door.
Inside, a high-ceilinged foyer opened to a wide wooden staircase and a long hallway lined with shelves of books and original art. On the top shelf sat framed photographs. One caught her eye: a younger Vince in a Ranger Academy uniform, his father beside him, pride unmistakable in both their faces.
Erica looked at him again, recalibrating. He hadn’t rejected this life or been forced into it. He’d been allowed a choice and supported.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” he observed, spot-on as usual.
Margie gestured toward the back of the house. “The guest cottage is ready if you’d like to settle in. We’ll have dinner as soon as Tasha arrives.” She gave Vince a wide-eyed look. “She’s bringing her new boyfriend. Caleb. Have you met him?”
“Twice,” he replied. “And before you ask, I’m still reserving judgment.”
“This should be interesting,” Ray muttered as he led the way down the hall.
She glanced at Vince as they brought up the rear. “Cottage?”
He leaned closer. “I prefer breathing room from the folks.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You planned this.”
“I plan most things.”
It wasn’t arrogance, but a man who handled contingencies for a living.
As they left the main house, walking toward the pool and the separate cottage tucked behind it, she understood something clearly: he didn’t become a Ranger because he lacked options. He wanted to, and that choice mattered.
Vince unlocked the door and let her enter first.
It was charming. One large open sitting space, a small kitchenette, and French doors looking out on the pool. Through an open doorway, in the only bedroom, she saw a king-sized bed.
Erica hesitated, a little uncomfortable. He, of course, noticed.
“We’re adults,” he said. “My parents understand that.”
She folded her arms loosely. “You don’t make a habit of this, do you?”
“No.”
She let that sit between them. His denial helped, and he’d never given her any reason not to trust him.
He moved closer. “Are we good?”
“Yeah. Except…” She looked down at her bug-splattered, no-longer-pristine capris. “You were right about the bugs.”
He smirked, refraining from anI told you so.
Best she let it drop. “I should wash up and change for dinner.”
He took their bags to the bedroom and set them inside the door. As she sifted through her things and shook out a summer dress, he leaned against the doorframe.
“Just slip on your suit. Tasha will want to swim after dinner.”
“I’m not eating dinner in a bathing suit.”
“Put on a cover-up.”
