So they were going to have to do favors for him—like watching Levi, and feeding them both.
As soon as she and Jem had reached their somewhat tenuous truce Saturday morning, she’d left to make a grocery store run to get more tuna, chips, fresh fruit and peanut butter and jelly just in case.
When Kacey and Levi returned from the beach, she served lunch in the dining area off the kitchen. She didn’t eat in there often, preferring her table for two in the little nook in her kitchen.
But there were four of them.
For dinner, too.
On Sunday Jem showed up with a booster seat in hand. “I had an extra out in the garage,” he said as Lacey stared at the thing and Kacey took it from him.
“It goes in my chair,” Levi said, walking straight up to the chair he’d knelt in the day before, his good elbow helping to prop him up on her dining room table.
The booster chair move-in was unexpected, except that she figured she knew Jem’s real motivation. Kacey. She’d seen guys do some pretty crazy things over the years to get to her sister.
Like walk a mile each way to get her the fish tacos she was craving. They’d been fifteen. The guy was their next-door neighbor at the time. Lacey had asked for regular tacos. He’d forgotten and brought fish for her, too. She hated fish tacos.
There’d been the jeweler who’d designed a necklace just for Kacey. Of course, he’d also then used her name to sell a mass-produced version of the original. With her permission.
She’d once had a man sail a yacht from Florida to San Diego just to pick her up for a two-hour date because she’d mentioned that she wanted to see his yacht.
Lacey had been the first one to express an interest in seeing the seventy-foot yacht with a swimming pool on the deck. Mostly because she didn’t really believe there was one. He’d shown her a picture, and she’d introduced him to her sister. He was fascinating, had done a lot of things with his life and was still in his midthirties, but she hadn’t felt any sparks. She’d known Kacey would, though. Kace went for flashy guys, the ones who wore all the right clothes.
And jewelry. She liked guys who wore rings.
Jem had a class ring on his right hand. Even when he worked.
Maybe none of the things Lacey could currently bring to mind were as crazy as building a room, but they were close.
Kacey had fallen hard for the yacht guy. They’d been hot and heavy for more than a year. She’d wanted to get married, start a family. He’d had more pressing matters. Like sailing around the world, buying into a casino in Monte Carlo and looking for a summer home in Greece.
Jem was the marrying kind, a family man.
And gorgeous.
He was also successful. He wore a tie to work when he wasn’t giving away his labor for free. His jeans were designer, even when wearing a tool belt, and his work shirts looked like they came straight out of a high-end men’s fashion magazine.
He wore the glint of success well; it might be understated, but it was still there.
Lacey almost felt sorry for him when Kacey wouldn’t give him a second look.
And so, on Sunday, when her pager went off, a callout to any available case agent to see to an emergency, Lacey pushed the callback button immediately. Her coworkers wouldn’t be surprised. Lacey was most always the one who took after-hours calls. Unless she was already on one.
Jem didn’t seem all that put out, either, when she stepped outside to tell him she’d been called into work. He’d been measuring and stopped. Looked up at her.
“The child in danger is lucky to have you on the way,” he said and then smiled at her.
She nodded and left him alone with her sister and his son. Let Jem and Kacey work out whatever would or would not be between them. Lacey had learned a long time ago she couldn’t fight nature.
No matter how much she might like a guy.
And there was another issue at hand, too. She wasn’t working Levi’s case anymore—couldn’t go anywhere near it professionally—but she cared every bit as much about his safety as she had when she had been his caseworker.
Being a friend didn’t mean that she lost her work skills. Just like Jem building a room for her at slave labor wages didn’t mean she’d get a second-rate room.
Sydney had Tressa covered. And Lacey had access to Levi. Easy, natural, uninstitutional access.
The call she’d received involved two girls, aged six and seven, who’d been left alone for at least two days. A neighbor had called the police.