Foundation for Three (15 page)

“How did you do that?” She sat back up and crossed her legs again. Only now, she was closer—much closer.

Pete cleared his dry throat, not sure if he should brag, but then decided to go for it. “Being the athletic one, I climbed the tree to the porch overhang and walked along the roof until I found their room and tapped on the window.” He unscrewed the thermos and offered to refresh her drink. Zoey held up her cup, and he filled the hot chocolate near to the top. He then took a hit and recapped it. That simple act of sharing seemed so natural, so right.

“Weren’t the girls scared to have some guy’s face suddenly appear in their room window? I would have been,” she said, lifting the cup to her lips.

That was because she was a good girl, and the Crumpfield sisters most definitely were not.

“If they were, they didn’t show it. Stella was ecstatic as soon as I showed her that Joe had a car. Long story short, as soon as I helped the girls out of the house, they practically ran to the Ford.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, looking like a teenager herself. “You can skip the part about the sex.” She drank more from her cup.

Pete couldn’t believe how much credit she was giving him. “I wish. We never got far enough for that. You see, smart guy Joe took us out to what we both thought was a deserted country road. He then got the bright idea to see how fast he could drive.”

Her mouth parted. “That’s dangerous. Had he even driven by himself before?”

It was such a high to have someone respond so easily to everything he said. “When Joe was about ten, his father would let him pull the cars into and out of the garage. He had more practice during the class, but was he good? Hell, no, but Joe thought he was the coolest dude on earth. That was until the cop stopped us.”

Her eyes shone with delight. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“At the time I thought my life as I’d known it was about to end, but apparently Officer Phelps was a friend of Joe’s dad.” He’d almost shit when he saw those lights flashing.

“How did your dad react when he found out?” She pressed her lips together, probably to keep from laughing.

“Find out? He never did. Shit, if he’d learned we were almost arrested and thrown in jail, he would have yanked me out of private school and sent me to some last opportunity school for juveniles. Then I never would have seen the inside of a college classroom.”

“So the cop let you off?”

“Hardly.” Pete always wondered where he’d be today if Officer Phelps had acted differently. If Pete had been ticketed, would that have gotten his dad’s attention? “Let’s just say that for a price, the officer promised not to tell either of our dads or the girls’ father.”

“Price?”

Pete took another drink of the hot chocolate, deciding to let Zoey guess what that might be. When she didn’t offer any suggestions, he continued. “Because Officer Phelps was friends with Mr. Dalton, he must have heard him complain about how there wasn’t enough time in the day to finish all the chores he needed to do—like paint the fence that rimmed the entire ten acres of his property.”

“Don’t tell me Officer Phelps said he’d keep quiet if you two volunteered to paint said fence?” She looked like she was about to laugh.

“You guessed it. From that day forward until school started, I rode my bike over there and painted that damned fence side by side with Joe.”

“That’s a touching story.” As she inhaled, she scrunched up her nose. “I was afraid to do anything wrong.” Her lips turned into a pout, and he squelched the urge to do something to erase it.

Instead, Pete placed a hand on her arm wanting to let her know that he understood. “I bet you just didn’t want to disappoint your parents. Or be a poor role model.”

Her smile returned, but it looked a little forced. “Something like that.”

Zoey Donovan had totally grown on him. He’d never met anyone who he’d connected with so well. Not only was she a great listener, she seemed interested in what he had to say. Pete didn’t want their adventure to end, but he had promised his mom he’d bring Zoey back to meet her.

“Since you’ll be meeting Joe tomorrow at the anniversary party, let me give you the 411.”

“Awesome.”

“He’s Thad’s older cousin. He’s fun loving, daring, and a bit crazy. He only calmed down after he took over his father’s repair shop business.”

She blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realize you and Thad’s family went back that far.”

“We do. Joe and I were a year apart in school. He was the cousin I spoke of. Thad was two years younger, so I can’t say I
knew
Thad other than as Joe’s little cousin. In ninth grade, I was shipped off to boarding school in Denver.” The abrupt send-off still stuck in his craw. In his opinion, the C in history wasn’t enough of a reason to have yanked him away from his friends. Pete received a great education, but a few parental visits would have been nice.

“I look forward to meeting him.”

“You’ll like him. It’s getting dark. We should go.” The two of them had such a good time that he prayed his dad didn’t say something to mess it up.

Once they reached the horses, Pete helped Zoey onto the saddle. She probably didn’t need his aid, but he wanted to touch her, get close to her, know more about her.

“You set the pace, Zoey.” He wagged a finger at her. “But no racing.” As well as she rode, she’d held on for dear life coming here. Heaven help him if she fell.

“Okay.”

This time they merely trotted home, arriving as the sun set. Before he had a chance to help her down, she dismounted. “Need assistance with the saddle?” he asked. It was heavy, and he worried she might strain her back if she lifted it.

“That would be nice.” She glanced around. “Got a brush?”

He pointed to the shelf along the far wall, wanting her to enjoy sharing their time together. “Help yourself.”

Pete lifted off Snow Cone’s saddle and carried it into the tack room. He then did the same for Winter Run. When he returned, she was brushing her horse, talking to her newfound friend like they’d known each other forever. Her strokes were gentle yet firm, and he liked that she seemed to love animals like he did.

Pete spent time brushing down his steed, too. Today had made him realize he needed to come out here more often. Riding had given him a clarity he’d been missing for a while—or had it been Zoey who’d helped him see some things better?

Not wanting to keep his mom or Zoey waiting, he finished quickly and put away the rest of the gear. “Ready?” He needed to warn her. “You probably think my dad’s a monster. He’s not. To guests, he’ll be charming.”

“Forewarned is forearmed, right?” He laughed at her comment and held her hand as they strolled up to the main house. Zoey looked up at him. “Any topics off limit? Like politics, religion, or the death penalty?”

He rubbed his chin trying to figure out if he wanted to answer her seriously or goof with her a little. He chose the latter. “Those are good. Just don’t ask him about Harold Feinway.”

“Who’s he?”

“The man my dad murdered.” Her eyes grew big again, and he got a kick out of her reaction. He couldn’t help but continue. “Whatever you do, don’t ask my mother why she robbed a convenience store when I was six and Dina was three.”

“No way.”

Teasing her was fun, but it also helped him forget some of his issues. “She said she had to pay for medicine for us since we were so sick.”

Zoey stared at him for a moment, firmed her lips then punched him in the arm. He was thrilled to see the tension he’d sensed earlier disappear. “Funny, funny. I meant like your car thieving days, Alex, or your dad’s dislike of the hired help.”

“You are something else. Ask anything you want. I’d love for you to hold my dad’s feet to the fire.” This could be interesting to see if she could get his father to remain focused on a topic that wasn’t about him.

Pete escorted her to the house, knocked on the side door, and entered. The rich smell of baking made his stomach grumble. “Anyone home?” He hoped to run into his mom first.

“Russell, Parker’s home,” his mom sang out from the kitchen. Footsteps sounded and she rounded the corner wiping her hands on a towel. “There you are!”

“Hey, Mom.” Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, as was always the case when she worked in the kitchen, but she had on more makeup than usual. Perhaps she was trying to impress Zoey. His mom didn’t have to go to the trouble. At fifty-nine, she was still a regal beauty even without cosmetics.

She gave him a hug then quickly stepped back. “You must be Zoey.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They shook hands. “Call me Isabelle, please.” His mom turned back to him and placed the dishtowel over her shoulder, looking younger than usual. “Dad’s in the den. Why don’t you two join him? I’ll be there in a moment.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Pete leaned close. “You want to come up with a signal to let me know when you’ve had enough of the old man?”

Zoey laughed at his antics. “I can handle your dad. I think our fathers are rather similar.”

“For your sake, I hope not.” He led her down the hallway into the den. “Dad?” Jesus, the room was filled with the sweet smell of tobacco. “Can you put the pipe out?” A thin, white haze surrounded his dad’s face.

He set down the offensive pipe, stood then held out his hand. “I’m Russell Banks.”

“Zoey Donovan.”

“She’s the psychologist I told you about who works out of LACE hospital.” His father responded well to educated people.

“Well, well.” Pete was tempted to ask his father the reason for the surprise in his voice, but that might embarrass Zoey. His dad motioned for them to sit on the sofa before returning to his leather chair. “Have a seat so we can chat. Parker never brings anyone home to meet us.”
I wonder why.
His dad leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “I think he’s embarrassed by us.”

Angry would be a more descriptive word, but mostly it was because Pete didn’t want his dad to pepper his date with questions about her plans with Pete. “I wanted to show Zoey the vista from on top of the rocks.”

“My favorite spot. So, you’re a psychologist? What kind of people do you treat?”

So much for discussing their common love of the view.

“Everyday people. Most of them just need some help navigating the rough waters of life.”

“Have you dealt with any criminals?”

Here we go.

“A few.”

“Well, I know all about criminals. Dealt with every kind from the serial killer to the petty thief. In fact I’ve put over eighty-percent of those I prosecute in jail.”

Zoey let go of Pete’s hand and leaned forward. “Sounds like an exciting career. Did you ever want Parker to go into law?”

“Not everyone’s cut out to be a lawyer. We need people to build homes, you know.”

She leaned back, looking as if she was enjoying the repartee. “Parker said you helped him get his start.”

Oh no, Zoey
.
Now you’ve stepped in it.

“I did, but he’s paid me back in full, plus interest. Guess he couldn’t wait to get me out of his hair.” His dad laughed, as if it was some big joke.

“I didn’t realize you worked alongside of him, helping him run the company. What was that like?”

His father’s mouth opened.
Go Zoey.
His heart zinged. Zoey Donovan had his back all along.

Chapter Thirteen

W
hen Pete pulled into Zoey’s drive after their fantastic date, she didn’t want their time to end. Pete was fantastic and so was Thad. While she didn’t know for sure how the two acted together, from the way they treated her, the three of them would get along just fine. She couldn’t wait for the images of her last fiasco with a ménage relationship to fade and never resurface.

For the last few years, she’d spent her days helping others, never taking the time to think about what she needed. Having both Pete and Thad there for her when she’d broken down had given her some idea what she’d been missing—a lot. Life was give and take, but she’d been refusing the
take
half for a long time.

Pete and Thad were both good men, but different in an intriguing way. Pete was bright, adventurous, and caring—a people oriented guy. Thad understood both the criminal and regular mind, but he seemed more cautious about what he said and how he acted.