Page 63 of A Texas Hero

“So, this is the guy!” Her father stood back after shaking Archer’s hand. “You’re awful young, aren’t you?”

“Aw, c’mon, Patch,” Harry said, clapping his back. “We were young once.”

“Until you got a hold of us,” Alec joked. “Now I look like I’m ninety.”

“Don’t listen to these jokesters,” her father said. “I’m hardly any trouble at all. Never planned on my bodyguards meeting my daughter’s bodyguard, though. It’s good to meet you, young man.”

“Would y’all like something to eat?” Zoey said, leading them into the kitchen.

“She’s just like her mother,” Alec said. “Already feeding us and we just walked in the door.”

“That’s my girl,” her father said. “Just like her mami.”

Zoey smiled at the compliment. “I’ll chop up some more potatoes.”

“Don’t bother,” Alec said, patting his potbelly. “At least, none for me. I’m cutting back on the carbs.”

“I’ll have his portion.” Harry raised his hand.

Her father was already chatting with Archer, both of them chuckling at something or other.

“Don’t worry about cooking for us,” Daddy said, waving his hand dismissively. “Can we talk?”

Her father never wanted to talk. Her mind started conjuring up all kinds of terrible scenarios. He was here to tell her that he’d been diagnosed with some terrible ailment. Maybe not cancer, but Lou Gehrig’s disease, or diabetes, or Alzheimer’s. What would she do if she lost both her parents?

She followed her father into the living room, where he took a seat on her L-shaped leather couch.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“God, no, baby. I might need another knee replacement and I could always use a brand-new spine, but otherwise I’m healthy as a horse.”

“Oh, phew.” Zoey touched her chest. “You had me worried for a minute because you never want to talk.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say never.” He coughed into his fist.

“Never.” She quirked a brow, not letting him off the hook.

Mami used to say to him, “For God’s sake, Pat, if something is bothering you, say it. Don’t just let it fester.”

But he never did talk about it. His way was to keep it close to the vest and deal with it himself, even if that meant taking time alone. Now he wanted to talk. He was probably worried about her. She prayed he didn’t have someone new he wanted her to date.

“So…that bodyguard,” her father began. “I think it’s pretty interesting you didn’t mention that he looks like a matinee idol.”

Zoey crossed her arms. “First, his name is Archer, and what does that have to do with anything?”

“He’s the kind of man you’ve always been attracted to.”

“How would you know that?”

He flinched like she’d wounded him. “Your mother told me.”

“Oh. Well, he’s Italian, if that’s what you mean.”

“A foreigner. Your type.”

“He’s Italian-American.” She straightened. “And actually a Texan for the past decade or more.”

He waved his hand in the air. “Whatever.”