“Why?”
“I trust you.” She considered him. “And you don’t judge. That’s nice.”
“Right back at you,” he said with a quick glance and Jacquie felt warm again. “Does having that sugar bowl make this apartment a home?”
“That’s a good question. I should probably get rid of it.”
“But you won’t.”
“It might mean forgetting my past and I’m not ready to do that.”
“You’ve got your kids to remind you of it. Maybe some things should be let go.”
“And then I’d end up with an apartment that didn’t feel like a home. I’m going to guess that you have nothing like that sugar bowl in your place.”
“Not a sugar bowl,” he admitted. “But I’ve got an old football.”
She turned to face him.
“Butter!” he reminded her and she started stirring again. He put in the shallots. “Just until they’re clear, not browning.”
“Gold?”
“Not even. Just clear.”
“Got it.” She nudged him. “I haven’t forgotten the football, even though you tried to distract me with shallots.”
“I knew you wouldn’t.”
“Are you going to tell me the story?”
“You can probably guess it.”
“Your brother,” she said with complete confidence.
“My brother,” Pierce agreed.
“Do you have any pictures of him displayed at your place?”
He was visibly startled. “No.”
Jacquie shook her head. “You can’t have the bad thing and not the good thing. You haven’t started cooking yet, so go look at that wall. Check out my ghosts.”
Pierce did as instructed. He stood in front of the gallery in silence, giving each picture a moment’s consideration. Jacquie knew them all by heart and realized he was studying the ones of Mitchell first. There was the large color photograph of their wedding party and that spring day. There was another with Mitchell holding Ashley, looking thrilled and awed. There was another of Mitchell at a Christmas, playing on the floor with a toddler in a footed jumpsuit while a little girl—Ashley, of course—closely supervised. Another of him exasperated on Christmas Eve, trying to assemble something for Maddy that had too many parts, unaware that Ashley and Brandon were spying on him. Another with Cole, newly born and red-faced. So many memories.
“He’s still here,” Pierce said when he turned back to Jacquie.
“And he always will be. The good and the bad is part of what makes this a home. It’s a mirror of what’s in my heart.” Jacquie smiled. “Maybe you need to look into your heart, Pierce, to make your place into a home.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “I haven’t had a home in so long that I forgot.”
“Since your brother died,” Jacquie guessed.
He looked at her. “Yes,” he admitted softly and the word was a surrender in itself.
Their gazes clung for a long hot moment and Jacquie’s heart pounded a warning. Was she falling in love with a man who’d never learned to love? Didn’t she know better than that?
She gestured to the pot, tearing her gaze from his. “Does this count as clear?”
Why would Mitchell have killed himself?
To Pierce’s thinking, the man had had everything. A beautiful wife, four healthy kids, a job. Maybe not a lot of money, but that wasn’t the only thing that mattered. He sat opposite Jacquie at the table, not really tasting the meal they’d made together, and wondered.
“What’s the matter?” Jacquie asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’re thinking so loudly that I can’t taste dinner,” she teased. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“That’s why I asked.”
“Not that. Do you want to know why Mitchell did what he did?”
She straightened a little. “What difference does it make?”
“I might be able to find out.” Pierce shrugged. “But I won’t try unless you want me to, and I won’t tell you unless you want to know.”
Jacquie looked down at her meal and considered the question. He liked that she wasn’t impulsive about just agreeing. He didn’t like the way her throat was working. She might be sure that she wasn’t still in love with her husband, but Pierce had his doubts.
“Do you really think you could find out?” she asked finally.
“I don’t know. I could try.” Pierce couldn’t read her mood so he waited.
She met his gaze, her own expression wary. “You think it’s bad?”
“I think he must have had a reason. If I were in your place, I’d want to know what it was, but then, I always want to know why everything happens.”
Jacquie almost smiled. “Me, too. I asked before. When it happened.”
“No answer?”
She shook her head.
“Then you must have asked people who didn’t know.”
Jacquie frowned. It took her a long moment to answer and her gaze was bright when she looked up. “What would it cost?”
“In terms of money, nothing. I’d just do it for you.”
“Why?”
He could have said as a friend, but Pierce didn’t think she’d accept that. “To prove that I still can, if I can. It’s an interesting challenge given the time delay.” He frowned when she didn’t speak, obviously knowing that wasn’t the whole truth. She did know how to push him to give a little more, and he respected that. “And because I owe you. You’ve helped me find what I needed to go forward.”
“That missing challenge.”
“Yes. I’m starting a consulting firm, not just saying that because I’m out of work.” He raised his brows, expecting her to laugh.
She didn’t. She put down her fork. “Doing what?” There was a warning in her voice that Pierce couldn’t explain.
He spoke as if he hadn’t noticed it. “Protection, research, logistics. All those things I used to do. Our first contract will be getting Farah through that wedding.”
“Our?”
“I’m rebuilding my team. It’s pretty exciting, and I never would have considered doing it without your comments.” He saluted her with his fork but she just stared at him.
“More guns,” she said. “More risk.”
Pierce nodded. “Some risk. Probably some guns. I can’t protect someone with my persuasive charm., such as it is.” Again, he hoped she’d smile, but he was wrong.
Jacquie frowned. “It
