“Coming right up.” He went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of whisky for her and a beer for himself. “Here’s to new friends and damsels in distress.”

She touched her glass to his bottle. “To new friends.”

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Paul dressed in khaki pants, a light-blue dress shirt, a striped tie and the navy-blue blazer he hadn’t worn since his dad’s funeral. Inside one of the pockets, he found a mass card from the funeral, with a photo of George Martinez’s smiling face and the Bible verse they’d chosen from St. Timothy: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

He stared at the photo for a long moment, seeing himself and Alex in his father’s face. It was no surprise to either of them that their mother mistook them for him so frequently. They both looked like he had as a young man.

“I hope you’d understand, Dad,” he said, speaking to the photo on the laminated card. “I really care about Hope and Ethan. I’d never want to do anything to disappoint you, but I can’t seem to help the way I feel about her.”

Sighing, he returned the photo to the pocket where he’d found it, taking comfort in knowing it was there. On a whim, he put on a little cologne while reminding himself that a funeral didn’t count as a date, even if he’d be going with Hope. As much as he dreaded what promised to be a terribly sad event, he was glad to lend his support to her.

He went out to the kitchen, where he found her supervising breakfast for Ethan and Marion. The sight of her in a formfitting black dress that wrapped at her waist with a small elegant bow on her hip made his mouth go dry. Her hair fell in soft waves around her pretty face, and all he could think about was kissing her last night. Before his body could react predictably, he forced those thoughts from his mind so he could focus on whatever she needed today.

“Morning, everyone,” Paul said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning, honey,” Marion said. “You look very handsome.”

Paul took note of the unusually sharp look in his mother’s eyes and experienced a pang of longing for the loving mother she used to be.

“You look funny,” Ethan said with a goofy smile for Paul.

“He looks nice,” Hope told her son. “Go brush your teeth. Time to go.”

“I wanna go with you guys,” Ethan said.

“Nice try, but you’re going to school. Move it, mister.”

Ethan clomped off to the cabin to brush his teeth.

“Get your backpack, too,” Hope called after him. When she came around the counter into the kitchen, he got the full view of what three-inch heels did for her sexy legs.

“Wow,” he whispered.