Chapter Seventeen
“So this is where you grew up,” Tessa said.
Owen closed the passenger door of her compact. He still couldn’t believe she’d talked him into letting her drive because his plumbing van, as she put it, was a work vehicle. He knew she was still trying to figure out how to get her head around Rita Mae’s involvement, what the kids had done, and how senseless Jackson Moore’s death had been.
“This is it. Thought you’d been here before?” he said.
She walked around the front of her compact, wearing a blue jean jacket, her long blond hair hanging loose, her face natural. Her blue eyes were striking. He slipped his arm around her and stopped for a minute before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Nope, you never wanted to bring me home, remember?” she said teasingly.
