Imperfect: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 5)

by April Wilson

  “Jamie, hi,” I say, as I lock my apartment door.

  Jamie looks so handsome in his black leather jacket and dark glasses that it makes my chest hurt. I notice that the blonde’s eyes are wet with tears. When she sees me, she wipes her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater and smiles hesitantly.

  Jamie smiles too. “Hi, Molly. Going out?”

  “Just running to the post office,” I say. “I have some small paintings to mail.”

  I try not to look at the blonde, who seems a little upset at the moment. She really is stunning, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a lovely face dominated by beautiful blue-green eyes. Although we’re about the same height, she’s willowy thin and I’m not. Jamie has his arm around her, and he’s rubbing her arm.

  “Molly, this is Beth Jamison, my brother Shane’s fiancée. Beth, this is Molly Ferguson, my neighbor. She’s a very talented artist.”

  “Shane’s fiancée? Oh.” Well, that certainly clears up the mystery of who the blonde is. I can feel some pent-up tension seeping out of me. She’s not his girlfriend. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s unattached. Besides, even if he was free, I have no business getting involved with him.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Beth,” I say, giving her what I hope is a genuinely warm and friendly smile. I feel ashamed for having been jealous of her. I glance once more at Jamie, drinking in the sight of him. “Well, I’d better get going. I’ll see you later, Jamie.”

  He smiles at me. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I head downstairs and out of the building before I pause to take a deep breath. She’s his brother’s fiancée. Not his girlfriend then. I shouldn’t feel so relieved, because her relationship to Jamie is none of my business, but I can’t help noticing there’s an extra bounce in my step as I go about my business.

  * * *

  After work, I hop a train out to Naperville to visit my parents. They’re both retired and living quite happily in a condo community for seniors in the suburb. They’re both faring well in retirement, considering my mom is eighty and my dad is eighty-four. I was a bit of a late-in-life surprise. They’d long given up on the idea of conceiving a child, until one day, surprise! They found themselves expecting me.

  They have the typical ailments of adults their age, but overall they’re doing fine. I make it a point to visit weekly, to check on them and see if they need anything.

  “Hi, honey!” my mom cries, as she greets me at the door.

  “Hi, Mom.” I give her a hug. She smells like cinnamon, so I know she’s been baking, which is not a surprise. “What smells so good?”

  “I made Snickerdoodles,” she says. “And a pot roast for supper tonight. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “You bet I am.” My mother’s a wonderful cook, and as we all know, “food is love.” She tries to fatten me up every time I visit. I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need any more extra pounds. “Thanks, Mom. It smells delicious.”

  “Hey, there’s my Molly-Moo,” my dad says, as he joins us in the foyer, towering over my mom’s petite form. He wraps me in his long arms and gives me a tight squeeze. “How’s it going, kiddo?”

  “Fine, Dad.” I may be thirty-two years old, but I’ll always be a kid to my parents. My mom still calls me on rainy mornings to remind me to take an umbrella with me if I go out. “How about you?”

  “Fine, fine. I got eighteen holes in yesterday before the snow started, so that’s good.”

  My dad took up golf after he retired from his career as a pediatrician. My mom, also a former pediatrician, took up baking and bird watching. Both of their hobbies keep them physically active, which is good.

  We sit down to a delicious dinner, followed by my favorite cookies for dessert. As we’re eating cookies and drinking coffee, they grill me on my business. They were both terrified that I’d go broke after I divorced Todd and had to support myself on my fledgling art business. But I’m happy to inform them that I’m not in danger of missing a rent payment or starving anytime soon.

  After our meal, we sit in the sunroom, surrounded by my mother’s jungle of plants, and listen to the chirps and tweets coming from her little aviary of finches. Mom’s little black cat, Yuki, curls up in my lap and purrs as I scratch behind her ears.

  We talk about everything and nothing until the hour grows late and my dad nods off in his favorite recliner chair. I say goodnight and call for an Uber to take me back to the train station, as it’s too cold and dark for me to walk.

  On the train, I make a valiant attempt to occupy myself with reading, but my mind keeps straying to thoughts of Jamie. I think about the dinner he might have made for me if I’d had the guts to say yes. My excuse was that I was keeping him safe from Todd, but I’m not sure that’s the whole truth. I think I’m afraid to get close to someone again. Afraid to face more rejection.

  I recall how Jamie comforted Beth in the hallway earlier today, rubbing her arm and holding her close. She’s obviously going through a rough patch right now. I think Jamie would be a dream partner for any woman, even with his blindness. I just wish I could be a dream girlfriend. But I’m not. I’m defective, and I’m only just now beginning to realize the ramifications of my choices.

  Chapter 11

  Molly

  The next day, I take a break in the afternoon to pop in at the tattoo parlor to see Chloe. I find her sitting on a tall stool behind the sales counter sketching an intricately detailed picture of a rose on a sheet of drawing paper. Her long, dark hair is braided into pigtails, and she’s wearing a loose-fitting bohemian-style dress. She reminds me of an exotic gypsy princess.

  “That’s really pretty,” I tell her, watching as she eyes her sketch critically.

  She scowls. “I can’t get the perspective right. I have a customer who wants a rose on her breast.” She eyes me critically. “If it’s going on her boob, it’s got to be absolutely perfect, right?”

  She tears the page out of her sketchbook and wads it up, then tosses it in the trashcan. Then her expression brightens as she lays her pencil down and gives me her full attention. “Good afternoon, cupcake.” She smiles brightly. “What’s new with you?”

  “Not much. I just wanted to stop in and say hi.”

  She gives me a knowing grin. “I saw your hottie walk by a few minutes ago with his dog.”

  Reflexively, I glance out the front windows, but of course he’s not there. “He’s not my hottie.”

  Chloe looks at me, a skeptical expression on her pretty face. Her big eyes are so dark and expressive, and so diabolically cynical. “So, anything going on there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean with the hot neighbor. Is anything going on?”

  “No. We’re just friends.”

  Chloe shrugs. “I’m just wondering if you have dibs on him.”

  I laugh, hoping to mask the swift surge of panic I feel. “Dibs? Of course I don’t have dibs on him.”

  “So, you don’t mind if I ask him out then?”

  Yes, I mind! “No. Not at all.”

  “You are such a liar, Molly!” Chloe picks up her pencil and starts sketching the outline of a rose on the pristine white sheet of paper. “So, when are you going to let me ink you?” she says.

  I frown. “I’m not really the tattoo type.”

  “Oh, come on! Just a tiny one. How about a tramp stamp, just above your ass? No one will ever see it – well, except for your hottie. No, scratch that – he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.”

  “Chloe!” I say, shocked. “That’s an awful thing to say.”

  “Oh, come on, it was funny. So, why not get a tattoo?”

  “Because – they hurt.”

  She laughs. “So? The pain is only temporary, but the artwork lasts for a lifetime.”

  I shake my head, smiling apologetically. “I don’t think so.”

  “How about a piercing then? Perhaps a belly button ring, since nipple rings are clearly out.”

  “Chloe!” I cry, nearly cho
king on my laughter. Chloe’s irreverent humor is exactly what I need sometimes to keep from taking myself too seriously.

  She rips the sheet of paper containing her latest attempt off her sketchpad, balls it up, and throws it at me.

  * * *

  When I return to my shop, I’m greeted by a trio of tourists peeking through the front windows. I unlock the door and invite them in. While they’re browsing, especially interested in my collection of Chicago postcards based on photographs I took, the bell over the door rings. I glance up, and my heart skips a beat when I see Jamie and Gus coming inside.

  “Go to Molly,” Jamie says, and Gus leads him right to me.

  My gaze eats Jamie up as I reach down to pet Gus. “Hey, guys!”

  “Hi, yourself,” Jamie says. He cocks his head, as if listening to the chatter of the three tourists. “You have company?”

  “Just a few customers browsing.”

  He nods. “I came to talk to you about doing a commission.”

  “You want to commission a painting?”

  “Yes.”

  I feel a warm rush of pleasure knowing that he’s not holding a grudge because I said no to dinner. “What do you want me to paint?”

  “The beach view outside my brother’s estate in Kenilworth. I’d like to commission you to paint it for their wedding gift. The lake view from the back of the house is spectacular, and I know they’d be thrilled to have a painting of it.”

  I’m totally bowled over by his request. “I’d love to do it,” I tell him, giddy with relief and excitement. Painting a commission for Jamie means I’ll get to spend time with him. A lot of time. “I’ll need to see the view, of course,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’ll need to take some photographs for reference. Can I visit the property?”

  “Of course. I’ll take you out there myself, and you can look around all you want.”

  My pulse starts racing at the thought of having a legitimate excuse to spend time with Jamie... just the two of us on a road trip, going out of town. Well, not far, but it’s at least a forty minute drive from Wicker Park. “When are they getting married?”

  “In a couple weeks. But you don’t have to have the painting done by then. I realize this is rather short notice, and I know you’re booked up with other commissions. I’ve been wracking my brain for an idea for a wedding gift, and this occurred to me last night. I know they’d love it.”

  “Jamie, I’m flattered. Yes, I’d love to go see the property.”

  “Great. I’ll take care of the arrangements. My brother Jake has offered to drive us.”

  “My goodness, how many brothers do you have?”

  “Three. And three sisters. I wouldn’t be standing here today – I probably wouldn’t still be alive – if it weren’t for them.”

  My heart contracts painfully at his admission. The explosion that cost him his eyesight must have been a nightmare. Maybe someday he’ll feel comfortable telling me about it.

  Chapter 12

  Molly

  We make plans to drive north to Shane’s estate in Kenilworth. At ten o’clock Saturday morning, Jamie, Gus, and I are waiting on the front steps of our building as a black SUV with darkly tinted windows pulls up to the curb. The driver’s door opens, and out steps someone who could easily pass as a hitman. He’s dark and dangerous – closely-cropped black hair, black jeans and a black leather jacket, dark sunglasses, and muscles that just won’t quit. As he walks up the steps, I’m reminded of a sleek black panther on the prowl. The guy just radiates tension.

  This is Jake? Holy cow. I’d hate to run into him in a dark alley.

  I glance down at Gus, who’s fairly quivering with excitement at Jake’s arrival. I guess if Gus likes this guy, he must be okay.

  When Jake reaches us, I can’t help noticing what a big guy he is. Not just tall, but muscular as well. I think it would be fair to characterize him as brawny, like a heavyweight champion would be. The numerous small scars on his face only add to his fighter persona, and it looks like his nose has been broken a time or two.

  Jake claps his brother on his right shoulder and squeezes. “Hey, bro.” Then his hand slides down Jamie’s arm and the two men shake.

  Jake takes off his sunglasses, hooks them on the collar of his dark T-shirt beneath his jacket, and turns to me expectantly. “Good morning.”

  “Jake, this is my friend Molly Ferguson,” Jamie says. “Molly, this is Jake.”

  Jake extends his big hand to me, and we shake as well. His hand is huge, and it engulfs mine. His hand is warm, and he holds my hand carefully, as if he’s tempering his strength.

  “Nice to meet you, Molly,” he says. His voice fits him – deep and a little rough. “You guys ready to hit the road?” He reaches for Gus’s harness. “I’ll take this guy and load him into the back.” Then Jake looks at me. “You’ve got Jamie?”

  I nod, linking my arm with Jamie’s, as we’ve done on so many occasions before. As Jamie and I head down the steps to the SUV, Jake helps Gus into the rear of the vehicle. Jamie opens the front passenger door for me and offers to let me sit in the front, but I opt for the back seat and encourage Jamie to sit up front with his brother.

  I settle myself in the back seat, with my camera bag beside me, and buckle my seatbelt. From my vantage point in the back, seated directly behind Jamie, I have a perfect view of two very handsome, albeit very different men. I eavesdrop on their conversation as they catch up, discussing their brother Shane’s upcoming wedding… something about switching gears from a large church wedding to a small event with just family and friends. Apparently, Beth is rather shy, and the original wedding plans got to be a little too much.

  As we head north away from the city, I relax into my seat and let my mind wander. While my gaze is fixed on the scenery out the window, part of my brain picks up bits and pieces of the conversation in the front seat.

  Traffic heading north is pretty light this time of morning, so we make good time getting to our destination. I already knew Kenilworth was a lovely suburb full of grand houses and large properties, but nothing could have prepared me for our destination. Shane has a huge estate right on Lake Michigan. When Jake pulls off the main road and drives down a paved lane that meanders through the woods, I can’t help but be impressed.

  As we stop at a wrought iron gate, Jake rolls down his window and speaks to a disembodied voice coming out of the intercom. The gate swings open for us, and we proceed. After passing a second gated checkpoint, I start to feel like I’m entering Fort Knox.

  “This place is pretty secure,” I murmur to Jamie, leaning forward.

  He nods. “A lot of dignitaries – politicians and celebrities – stay here when they’re in Chicago. The security’s very tight.”

  We pass a huge pond on the left. A couple of rowboats are moored to the wooden dock, and several canoes lie upside down on the grassy bank.

  The right side of the road is lined with gently rolling pastures, and I see a small herd of horses – four adults and one foal – grazing on the crest of a gentle hill. Their tails flick languidly as they bask in the sun.

  I lean closer to the window to get a better view. “Your brother has horses,” I say, stating the obvious and unable to hide my surprise.

  Jamie turns back to me. “Yes. Well, they’re Elly’s horses. Elly’s our housekeeper, and those horses are her babies.”

  We pass a tall, sturdy older man with closely-cropped gray hair riding a lawn mower along the edge of the lane. He waves at us as we pass, and Jake waves back.

  “That’s Elly’s husband, George,” Jake says. “He’s the groundskeeper.”

  Gus wakes from his impromptu nap in the back of the vehicle and starts pacing eagerly, whining softly. It’s obvious he knows where we are, and he’s clearly excited.

  We pull into a circular drive in front of a huge house. Jake parks the SUV near the front steps and cuts off the engine.

  Before I can even unbuckle my seat belt, Jamie’s out of the SUV and openin
g my door. He offers me his hand and helps me climb down from the vehicle. I’m perfectly capable of getting out myself, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to hold his hand, even if just for a moment.

  The front double doors open, and out steps a tall, slender woman looking very much at home in a pair of well-worn jeans, riding boots, and a denim jacket with beaded fringe. Her long silver hair hangs in a thick braid halfway down her back.

  The woman’s face lights up when she sees Jamie, and she makes a beeline for him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She squeezes him tightly. “Oh, my God, I’ve missed you, honey,” she whispers, and then she goes up on her toes to kiss his cheek just above the top edge of his beard.

  Jamie hugs her back and kisses the top of her head. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Jake opens the tailgate, and Gus leaps out of the vehicle and runs straight to Elly, rubbing against her legs and whining with excitement.

  Elly reaches down to pet Gus, but her eyes are glued to Jamie.

  Jamie lays his hand on Gus’s head, and the dog immediately settles down at his side. “Molly, this is Elly Peterson. Elly, this is Molly Ferguson.”

  Elly wipes her hands on her jeans and reaches out to shake my hand, giving me a quick, welcoming smile. “Sorry, Molly, where are my manners? It’s just that I’m so happy to see Jamie. It’s just not the same around here without him.”

  Jake gives Elly a hug, too. “I’m going to take off now,” he says to Jamie, clapping his brother on the back. “I’m going to make a quick run up to Harbor Springs to check on the cabin. I’ll be back by dark.”

  Elly waves to Jake as he drives away, then turns to us. “Well, you two make yourselves at home. Let me know when you get hungry. I’ll have a nice, hot meal ready for you.”

  * * *

  Elly goes back to doing whatever it was she was doing before we arrived, leaving Jamie to take me on a tour of the house. With Gus leading the way, Jamie leads me inside, into a spacious two-story foyer filled with natural light. There’s a wide, curved staircase that leads up to the second floor.