Falling for the P.I.

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Falling for the P.I. Page 16

by Victoria James


  “Sorry I’m late,” Matt said, handing her the bags of food as he slipped out of his jacket. Her gaze roamed over him appreciatively, still not used to him, to her attraction to him. Everything was better every day; everything was better with him.

  “Everything okay?” Now that they were inside, she could see the telltale worry lines in his forehead. She knew there were certain aspects of his job that still bothered him, but she could feel the tension in him.

  “Maaaatttt!” They were interrupted as Janie ran over to him. He leaned down and scooped her up. Janie snuggled into his chest and he looked over at Kate, smiling. This was the guy she’d met at the bar, the guy who’d continued to stand up for them. She’d leaned on him enough that most of her memories were fading, replaced by the good feelings he evoked.

  “All right, we’re starving. Let’s eat this awful food you seem to be obsessed with,” Sabrina said, rifling through the bags. “Seriously, it’s not fair that you can eat like this and not gain any weight.”

  “You’re the one who told me about this place. Jog with us.”

  “I’d rather die.”

  “Drama.”

  “Now that’s enough. There are dear children in the room,” Barb said, admonishing them both. They laid out a picnic blanket and sat down and ate together. Kate looked around at all of them, at Alex and Cara, their gazes locking. How much had changed since they had first met? They were older. They had all survived their own hell, and were now here, safe and living their dreams. She hoped for them that they’d each find a man as good as Matt to make them as happy as she was.

  She looked over at their girls, giggling and spilling food all over the blanket, at the unicorn that was looming over the picnic blanket, at the guy who had won her daughter the unicorn, and had won her heart. Matt was watching her in a way that made her feel cherished, loved. When his eyes dipped lower, stopping on her lips, then traveling down the rest of her body, she felt the passion that grew with every passing day.

  He grabbed her hand gently, tugging her toward the door. “Come here, I have something to show you.”

  “I’ve seen it before, not appropriate.”

  He laughed as he gave her a kiss. “Not that, smart-ass. Outside. Come on.”

  She followed him around the side of the house, stepping around construction planks and debris. He unlocked the back gate and held it open for her. He was grinning at her and she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not usually this mysterious.”

  “I’m a man with many layers,” he said. “Close your eyes and take my hand.” He held out his hand and waited.

  She smiled at him, at the mischievous, boyish expression on his face, and then placed her hand in his. “I trust you, even though this backyard is a minefield with all the mess from the landscaping company.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and slowly led her further into the large yard. “Okay, stop,” he said a few minutes later. “You can open your eyes now.”

  She blinked a few times to focus, to grasp the significance. They were enveloped in the dark cocoon of night, the only light coming from the fountain in front of them. There was a rock wall, and a steady stream of water poured down like a waterfall into a circular pool. The waterfall was backlit and Matt gently pulled her closer until she noticed the plaque. She read the inscription aloud: “In loving memory of Darlene and Sara Abbott.”

  Emotion flooded through her and she spun around to look at Matt. “Thank you,” she whispered, throwing herself into his arms. Just like always, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  “You’re welcome. I thought it would be a good way to remember them. Maybe it will bring some of the women and kids in this house some peace too, as they try and rebuild their lives.”

  She blinked back tears as she stared into his eyes. She had memories of her mother and Sara that were forever engraved on her heart, on her soul. She carried them with her wherever she went, and they carried her on her darkest days, forcing her to move forward. But this man, Matt, had managed to capture the parts of her that she thought didn’t exist anymore. He’d healed her.

  He’d saved her, he’d loved her, and he’d never stopped believing in her. He was the guy she never even dared to dream up, because he was too perfect, because she thought guys like him couldn’t exist. But he did. He was here and he was hers. Matt, Janie, and her sisters were her family. The family she had once known, the little girl she once was, no longer existed. But what they all were was so much stronger, more beautiful than she could have believed.

  He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss. He would always be there for her; he would always come through for her. He’d taken away her fears, shown her love, passion. He’d believed her.

  He pulled back slightly, brushing his lips against hers. “I love you so much, Kate.”

  “I love you too, Mr. Zibbits.”

  He laughed against her mouth before kissing her again.

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  About the Author

  Victoria James always knew she wanted to be a writer and in grade five, she penned her first story, bound it (with staples) and a cardboard cover and did all the illustrations herself. Luckily, this book will never see the light of day again.

  In high school she fell in love with historical romance and then contemporary romance. After graduating University with an English Literature degree, Victoria pursued a degree in interior design and then opened her own business. After her first child, Victoria knew it was time to fulfill the dream of writing romantic fiction.

  Victoria is a hopeless romantic who is living her dream, penning happily-ever-after’s for her characters in between managing kids and the family business. Writing on a laptop in the middle of the country in a rambling old Victorian house would be ideal, but she’s quite content living in suburbia with her husband, their two young children, and very bad cat.

  Victoria would love to hear from her readers!

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  Also by Victoria James…

  The Rancher’s Second Chance

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