Zach stared at the tiny foot in his hand and forced himself to be honest. He was trying to justify the possibility he could be finding the man guilty of negligence on the job. If Julia didn't still have feelings for Lance, then she wouldn't resent Zach for what he had to do if the results of Bronco's interview with the board went wrong.
Yeah, right.
Regardless of how Julia felt about her cheating husband, he was still the father of her child. Just as Pam was the mother of Zach's children. And even as pissed as he was at Pam, he wanted his children to have good memories of their mom.
No way in hell would Julia understand him tainting Lance Sinclair's memory.
Time for her to pack up before he found himself sharing more than a spoonful of fudge with her tonight.
Chapter 5
Shelby pushed once, twice, a third time on the screen to her bedroom window. White, ruffled curtains flapped in the breeze. She so hated those curtains. She'd wanted purple, but her mother had said neutral colors matched better in any house wherever they moved.
Screw moving. Shelby thumped the screen again with the heel of her hand. Finally, it slipped loose.
Freedom.
Swinging one leg over the sill, she waved goodbye over her shoulder to her fish and favorite hunk poster. Shelby landed in her backyard with a muffled thud, easy enough since she had the routine down pat. She could shimmy out that window, past Ivy's swing set and into the pine forest behind her house with a stealth that would have impressed her dad's airmen doing maneuvers.
But the last thing she wanted was more attention.
Headlights rounded the corner. Shelby flattened herself to an oak tree. Bark scratched her bare arms, but she held still until... the car... passed.
She exhaled, darting deeper into the stretch of trees to a dirt path. Her running shoes crunched dry leaves. A cool breeze kept her from getting sweaty without freezing her out.
The moon streaked just enough light through the branches for her to run without tripping.
And she couldn't run fast enough away from that house.
Being the Colonel's daughter totally sucks, she thought for the hundredth time. She might as well be in the Air Force too. She didn't have a real life.
They lived in a military house. Bought their groceries at the commissary. Went to the base chapel. Even her doctor wore cammo.
She couldn't breathe crooked without someone reporting it to her dad. When he was even home, which was next to never since he always had a world to save. Countries to feed.
Messes to clean up overseas. Sure would have been nice if he'd ever take time to clean up his mess of a life at home.
Except now he had Julia to take care of that for him.
Shelby tucked around another pine tree onto the base golf course. Almost there. Too bad the escape couldn't be forever.
Geez, even her lame mom had figured out how to get away for good. Shelby's chest tightened, like when the bell for first period rang and she hadn't done her homework. She gulped in night air as she jogged, but the pain wouldn't go away.
Probably just that rigatoni giving her heartburn. Mrs. Middleton had made her eat it the night before.
Shelby slipped on a slick patch of pine straw, grabbed for a tree, steadied before taking off again. She didn't get a say in anything. Even what she ate.
Well, she would get her way tonight.
A flash of orange blinked in the distance—John's favorite sweatshirt.
John. He slouched against a tree, tall and lanky with his dark hair loose to his shoulders just the way she loved.
Waiting.
For her.
The stitch in her side eased.