On His Honor by Jean Brashear Page B

their relationship had always been strictly hands-off, though she wasn’t sure why. He was an attractive, intelligent man who, in many ways, should have been perfect for her.
    But he was far too crucial to her as a friend. If that door to more had ever been open, it was long ago, and she had the sense that neither of them wanted to risk messing up what they had.
    “I just…” He rested his head against the high back of the willow chair under the pergola. “I thought it would be like the old days, where we could hang out, have some laughs. Be young again.”
    “You’re thirty-nine, Avery, hardly rest-home material.”
    He smiled, but even that was weary. “I know, Vee, it’s just—” His cell rang again, and he swore vividly before answering. “Lofton.” Whatever he heard had his brows snapping together. “Jesus Christ, can’t it wait? What does he want?” He sat up straight as he listened, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Where is Sage?” If anything, his jaw went tighter. “Get a hold of her and tell her to come in— No, I don’t care if she doesn’t usually get up this early.” A deep sigh. “It’s not your fault.” His voice softened. “If he calls again, tell him to keep his shirt on. One of us will get back to him.” He finished the call and stared off into the distance.
    “I can walk around while you make your call,” she offered.
    “Huh?” His head whipped around as he struggled back from wherever he was mentally. “Oh. No, but thank you. It’ll take more than just a phone call.” He slapped his palms on his legs then rose. “I’m sorry, damned sorry this keeps happening. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He gave her the quick one-two L.A. air kiss and stepped away, clearly preoccupied. “I just can’t tell you when.”
    “Don’t worry about it. I’m doing fine, I swear.” She traced an X over her heart. “Thanks for dropping by.”
    But he was already heading off, shoulders rounded. She’d never seen him like this before. Oh, Avery wasn’t playful like JD—he’d always tended more toward the serious, but then, he’d had to be. His father had abandoned Avery and his mother when Avery was only twelve, and he’d had to grow up fast. If his mother hadn’t died when he was in high school, Violet doubted he would have ever pursued his acting dream because he’d have stayed back in Colorado to be the man of the family.
    Now Violet was his only family. He’d taken her on to protect, just as she’d tried to care for him by getting him roles.
    She didn’t know this world he was involved in now, hadn’t met or spoken to anyone at his club but him. In fact, he’d always made certain she had his personal cell number and always called her back promptly. So she had no idea how to help him or give him relief from his burdens except to stay out of his way and accept whatever time he could give her.
    But that didn’t stop her from worrying over him or wishing she had the power to smooth those frown lines away.
    After a moment of staring off in the direction he’d departed, Violet shook herself and looked around the grounds, trying to figure out how to occupy herself until she might have the opportunity to hear from JD. She decided to walk over to the main building and see if she could tempt Sophie into putting her to work so she wouldn’t feel so restless.
    Instead, about ten paces into her journey, as if she’d conjured him up, her phone rang, and it was JD. With a smile, she answered.
    “Hello?”
    “Mornin’, Glory.”
    “That’s what my daddy calls me,” she said.
    “I have to confess you don’t make me feel particularly paternal.” His baritone voice got a little husky. He cleared his throat. “Hope that doesn’t bother you.”
    Her heart gave a foolish little flutter. “I think it would bother me a lot more if I did have that effect.”
    She heard him exhale. “You make it difficult for a man to think clearly.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Don’t sound so proud of