LITMIR.BIZ

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mother sighed. “We have a nice quiet table in a cozy corner. How about we sit down, have something to eat. Maybe a nice glass of wine. We can talk.”

      “I don’t want food. I don’t want wine. I want some answers.” She glanced at them both. “So?”

      Louise shrugged, clearly unapologetic. “So, we bought him at the auction.”

      “What were you thinking?” Jamie asked.

      Roy moved beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “He’s a detective from Los Angeles.”

      “Used to be,” Sam clarified.

      In the doorway, he casually rested a shoulder against the door frame, as if he was holding it up. As wide as his shoulders were, he almost could. A man in the prime of his life, yet he’d left LAPD. Why? Jamie wondered.

      “Whatever,” her father said. “L.A.’s loss is our gain. For thirty days we don’t have to worry about our little girl.”

      Jamie struggled to keep the irritation from her voice. “You don’t have to worry about me at all. And I’m not a little girl.”

      She made the mistake of looking at Sam as she said that. Something sparked in his eyes, a very male response that confirmed he agreed she was all grown-up. It was almost enough to distract her, but not quite.

      “You’ll always be little to us,” her mother was saying. “We’re your parents. We changed your diapers—”

      “Okay.” Jamie held up a hand. On the upside, at least all the naked baby pictures were at their house. “No one’s arguing about the family connection. But you guys have got to stop treating me like a china doll.”

      “We’re just concerned. Maybe he can figure out who’s harassing you and make them stop,” Roy said. “He finds perps. It’s what he does.”

      “Used to,” Sam said again.

      “Dad, you’ve been watching too many cop shows on TV.” Jamie sighed. Maybe she should approach this from a different direction. “So why didn’t you guys tell me what you’d done?”

      The folks exchanged a guilty look. “Didn’t your receptionist tell you I called?” her mother asked.

      “Yes. But—”

      “You could have called back.”

      “You could have tried my cell. Since when do you go through the switchboard?”

      “I think maybe cell phone reception isn’t so good in your office.”

      “Since when?” Jamie demanded.

      “I tried,” her mother said. “Apparently you were busy today.”

      “I’m busy every day and I always get your calls. You guys aren’t very good fibbers. You’re so busted.”

      “Okay.” Louise met her gaze. “We went ahead and bid on him at the auction, but we knew you’d say no.”

      “And just turned him loose on me without warning?” she scolded, then met Sam’s gaze. He’d been a victim in all this, too. Although the humor glittering in his eyes didn’t make him look very victimlike.

      “We didn’t want to hear how you don’t need anything and can take care of yourself.” Louise looked at Sam. “She’s our miracle child. We tried for years and couldn’t get pregnant—”

      “Mom—”

      “He should know how we feel,” she defended. “Just when we gave up trying—to have a baby,” she clarified. “We didn’t give up sex.”

      “Too much information, Mom.”

      Just shoot me now, Jamie thought, her cheeks warm with humiliation. Then she made the mistake of looking at Sam again. Amusement cranked up several notches in his eyes. At least someone was having a good time here.

      “That’s when it happened,” her mother continued. “We were pregnant. Then she was born. Our little girl. Our very own miracle.”

      “Look, guys, I don’t need a bodyguard. Everything is normal—”

      “Did you tell Sam about the hang ups in the middle of the night?” Louise asked.

      “Yes. And for the record, I’m sorry I ever mentioned it to you guys,” Jamie mumbled.

      “If that were the only thing,” Roy said, “we’d chalk it up to kids. But someone took her picture. I don’t like it.”

      “Any idea who’d do that?” Sam asked.

      Roy shrugged and shook his head. “Lunch and dinner are usually pretty busy at The Homestead. Anyone in town could have slipped in and out of this office without being seen.”

      “Or through the back door,” Sam said.

      “What?” Her father tensed.

      “We walked right in the back,” Sam explained.

      Her parents looked at each other. “It’s supposed to be locked all the time,” Roy said.

      “Maybe we’ve been a little careless about that,” Louise admitted. “We’ll be better. But your father is right. We don’t like it. And just because you’re not a little girl, that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to look out for you.”

      Jamie sighed. “Look, you guys, I’m fine. You don’t have to be concerned about me.”

      “It’s what fathers do, sweetheart.” Her dad gave her shoulder a squeeze. “They watch over their children and make sure they’re all right. Always.”

      Jamie happened to be looking at Sam and saw the “yeah, right” expression on his face. What did that mean?

      “I know you can’t help being protective, Dad, but I don’t need Sam hanging around. The police checked everything out and there’s no problem anymore.”

      “It’s out of our hands,” Louise interjected. “The auction is his community service.”

      “Thanks to Uncle Harry,” Sam said dryly.

      Jamie didn’t want to debate that issue. “I’m sure there’s another way for Sam to do his community service.”

      “It’s a done deal,” Louise said. “We paid the auction people already.”

      “That’s right,” Jamie said, snapping her fingers. “You bought and paid for him. How about he does his time working for you here at the restaurant? Maybe he can dust that empty frame for fingerprints and figure out who stole the photo.”

      “No way.” Louise shook her head.

      “Or he can beef up the security,” she suggested.

      “We bought him for you, sweetheart,” her father said.

      “What if I don’t want him?”

      “Way to make a guy feel warm and fuzzy,” Sam said, one side of his mouth quirking up.

      “She’s not always so ungrateful,” Louise apologized. “Usually she’s gracious and considerate.”

      “Usually I don’t have bodyguards showing up unannounced in my office,” she said defensively. “Really, Mom, Dad—”

      Suddenly Roy put a hand to his chest and began to massage the muscle.

      “Dad? Are you okay?”

      “Just a little pressure. It happens.”

      Sure it does, she thought. Her father was like the Rock of Gibraltar.

      “He’s not getting any younger,” Louise said, looking worried. “And life is full of stress. Sometimes it’s worse than others and you learn to deal with it. We found a way to help you and at the same time

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