A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 by Mary Campisi Page A

this house? Because the way I see it, you need to get out. Look at something other than a TV and these four walls. Now, I’ve given you your space, didn’t make a fuss when you refused to see me, but enough is enough. Let’s get in the truck so I can take you to the house and show you what I’ve been working on.” He grinned. “Mighty impressive if I say so myself.”
    What the hell, he couldn’t hide in this house forever while his aunt doted on him and Gina Servetti forced “range of motion” exercises on him. She’d told him in that no-nonsense way of hers that he didn’t need a physical therapist; what he needed was to do his exercises, eat right, lay off the pills, and stop feeling sorry for himself. Yeah, she was a real bleeding heart.
    “What do you say? ” Will asked. “Ready for a little fresh air?”
    “Your niece isn’t going to be there, is she?”
    Will threw him a look as if he wasn’t quite sure what Cash meant. Bull. The man was already seven steps ahead of Cash in the plotting department. “Tess? Not that I know of.” His blue eyes sparkled and he added, “But I can ask her up if you’d like.”
    Cash’s lips twitched and his gaze narrowed on the man who had been mentor, boss, and friend. “Like I said, go to hell.”
    Will laughed and headed toward the front door and the pickup in the driveway. “Take your time. I’ll see you outside.”
    Cash eased out of the chai r and grabbed his sunglasses. The doctors said it would take time to regain his strength, but they couldn’t say how much. Time was always that elusive factor—too much or never enough. The afternoon sun and the scent of Ramona’s hyacinths hit him square in the face, reminding him of the lazy spring days he and Tess used to enjoy when they were too young to realize nothing lasted forever—especially them. She’d monopolized his thoughts since her visit, a fact that royally annoyed him. It was one thing to imagine what she looked like all these years later, imagine conversations and gestures…but to actually see her, hear her? Well, that was like standing empty-handed in front of a guy who had a gun pointed at you.
    “You okay?” Will eyed him as Cash settled in the truck. “You’re looking kind of squeamish.”
    Squeamish? Cash would bet a hundred bucks that any man who had to face his ex-fiancée after an eight-year absence would get squeamish when he recalled the meeting. And he might actually puke if he thought about the inevitability of seeing her again. He opened the window, sucked in a deep breath. “I’m good.” And then, because he sensed Will was watching him a bit too closely, he said, “Do you use this truck for hauling?” He casually glanced down the street in the direction of the Carrick house. They lived four streets away and thankfully, there were no cars or people coming from that direction.
    Her eyes were even greener than he remembered, and her hair, though shorter, had the same shininess to it…and her skin …
    “I have been , as a matter of fact.” Will flipped on the radio and one of those honky-tonk country songs he loved twanged over the air. “Building a house uses a lot of material.” He hummed a few bars of the tune and headed toward the outskirts of town and the road leading to his house.
    That got Cash’s attention. “You’re building a house?” Will had always tinkered in his workshop and even converted the old barn to a grand-scale shop with heat, a bathroom, even an old recliner. But a house? That required a bit more attention than constructing a bookcase.
    Will laughed. “You sound surprised. Just because I don’t walk around town with a résumé of qualifications doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of things I can’t do.”
    “But a house?”
    He shrugged. “I did most of it myself except for the drywall and plumbing. Nate’s been a big help with the plans and bouncing ideas back and forth.” He shot a quick glance at Cash and said, “It helps to have