Page 102 of Eternal Devotion

“More than a decade.”

Mordecai hmmed, a noise I couldn’t interpret.

“Why?”

“I’m assessing the level of caution I should exercise while in her presence. I suspect I’ll be closely analyzed if it’s been that long.”

“She has a lot on her mind with this memorial, so hopefully you won’t get the third degree.”

“I suppose. Shall we?”

I knocked before letting us into the house, not waiting for an invitation. Voices and the delicious aroma of frying bacon arose from the kitchen before my mother called, “Ensley? Is that you?”

“Hi, Mom.”

I guided Mordecai toward the kitchen as my mother emerged, beaming a brilliant smile. She engulfed me in a strangling hug that went on for ages before she held me at arm’s length. “Look at you.” She tsked. “Handsome as always.”

“You’re looking fine yourself.”

My mother had aged well despite the years she’d spent drowning in grief over my father’s death. In fact, she looked brighter and more jovial than usual, especially considering what the weekend entailed.

At five foot four, Mom was a slight woman, trim and fit from years of walking all over town and attending regular exercise classes at the local gym. Her hair was the same rusty brown it had always been, sporting a few extra silver highlights than the last time I saw her.

“Mom, this is Mordecai. Mordecai, my mother, Ann.”

“The pleasure is mine, ma’am.” Mordecai offered a slight bow, but my mother wasn’t having it.

“None of that. You get a proper hug, so I hope you’re ready.” With that, she swept him into her arms and squeezed. Mordecai grunted, his eyes bulging over her shoulder.

I smothered a smile.

Mordecai had removed the sunglasses in the car. When Mom pulled back, holding him by the arms so he couldn’t get away, she examined him head to toe. “Well, aren’t you a handsome devil. Ensley’s right. The accent is simply adorable. London? Is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mostly.”

She rested a hand on his cheek before sliding it to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You’re awfully pale. Your skin’s cool. No fever.”

“Mom.”

“I’m fine,” Mordecai assured her. “I’m getting over a nasty cold. Took me out for several days. Forgive me if I don’t have much appetite or energy. I assure you, I’m on the mend.”

“You poor thing. If there’s anything I can get you, let me know. Should I make tea?”

“Ann?” a male voice called from the kitchen. “Do you want this casserole out? The timer went off. It looks done.”

“If you don’t mind. I’ll be a second.”

I stared in the direction of the kitchen, then to my mother, who wore a sheepish smile. “I told you I wanted you to meet someone.”

She had, and although I’d suspected she was referring to a man, I hadn’t anticipated arriving at her house at the ass-crack of dawn to find one in the kitchen. The implication was not something I wanted to consider.

“Come on. Breakfast is almost ready. Are you hungry? I’ll make tea. The water won’t take long to boil.”

Mom went ahead, and I stalled, unsure why my stomach had knotted at the prospect of meeting some new man in my mother’s life. It wasn’t like I expected her to remain single or grieve my father until the end of her days, but the alternative was a gut punch I wasn’t prepared for. After so long, I figured she wasn’t interested.

“Ensley?” Mordecai touched my hand, and I remembered myself, smiling weakly and guiding him to the kitchen.

His name was James Timberlan, and he greeted me with a sturdy handshake and a cheerful smile that somehow found its way through a speckled, salt-and-pepper beard, the same color as the thick hair on his head. James was tall and sturdy, if not a little overenthusiastic for eight in the morning. His abundant energy tainted my mood when I considered why.