Just One Kiss (Fool's Gold #10)

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THE NEXT MORNING, Patience was determined not to wait another second to tell Justice the truth. She’d spent a horrible night tossing and turning, feeling a little sick to her stomach. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. She was going to be brave. She was going to be honest. If things went really bad, she was sure her mom would be willing to move.

She walked from her house to Justice’s, as she had every school morning for months now. He lived a couple of blocks closer to town so he was on her way. As she walked down the sidewalk, she looked at the small two-bedroom house he shared with his uncle. Normally Justice would be sitting on the porch steps, waiting for her. Only he wasn’t there this morning.

Did he know? Had he figured out what she wanted to tell him? Was he disgusted? Did he think she was a complete dork and was so embarrassed he couldn’t speak to her?

Anxiety propelled her up the stairs. If it was bad, she wanted to hear it fast. He should just tell her the truth so she wouldn’t hope. Then her heart would break and she could get over it and...

She paused on the porch as she realized the front door was partially open. As if someone had left it that way in a hurry. She frowned as she moved forward.

“Justice? Are you okay?”

She knocked once and the door swung open.

She’d been in the small house dozens of times. There was a living room with a tiny dining room and kitchen beyond. There were two bedrooms and a single bathroom in the back. She remembered a sofa and a couple of chairs, some kind of coffee table.

Only all of that was gone now. The living room was empty, as was the dining room beyond. There was nothing. Not a cushion or a box or a scrap of paper. It was as if no one had ever lived here at all.

Patience slowly walked through the house. Her breathing sounded loud in the stillness. She didn’t understand. How could everything be gone?

The kitchen was as vacant as the rest of the place. The cupboards stood open, the shelves bare. The sink was empty, as were all the drawers. In Justice’s bedroom, there was no hint he had ever lived there.

She returned to the living room and blinked away sudden tears. She turned in a slow circle, fear growing inside her.

This wasn’t right. People didn’t just disappear in the night. Something had happened. Something bad.

She darted out the front door and ran all the way home. She burst in the back door and yelled for her mom.

“Justice is gone! He’s gone and his uncle’s gone and all their stuff.”

Her mother hurried into the living room. “What are you talking about?”

Patience told her what had happened. Ava grabbed a jacket, then followed her out the back door. Ten minutes later she was gazing at the empty interior. Fifteen minutes after that, the police had arrived.

Patience watched the activity and listened to the conversation. No one knew what had happened. No one had heard anything or seen anything. But they all agreed it was very strange. Justice and his uncle had disappeared. It was as if they’d never been there at all.

CHAPTER ONE

“TRIM UP my eyebrows,” Alfred said, wiggling his white, bushy brows as he spoke. “I want to look sexy.”

Patience McGraw held in a smile. “Big night planned with the missus?”

“You know it.”

A concept that would be romantic, if Alfred and his lovely wife were a tad younger than, say, ninety-five. Patience had to keep herself from blurting out a warning that, at their age, they should be careful. She supposed the more important lesson was that true love and passion could last a lifetime.

“I’m jealous,” she told her client as she carefully trimmed his brows.

“You picked a piss-poor excuse of a man,” Albert told her, then shrugged. “Excuse my French.”

“I can’t complain about you telling the truth,” Patience said, wondering what it would be like to live in a bigger city. Where everyone didn’t know every detail of your personal life. But she’d been born in Fool’s Gold and had grown up with the idea that there were very few secrets between friends and neighbors.

Which meant the whole town knew that she’d gotten pregnant when she was eighteen and the “piss-poor excuse for a man” who’d been her baby’s father had walked out on her and her daughter less than a year later.

“You’ll find someone,” Alfred told her, gently patting her arm. “A pretty girl like you should have them lined up for miles.”

She smiled. “You’re very sweet. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

Alfred gave her a wink.