On Thursday, I make plans to visit Jamie for lunch at a cafe in Wicker Park. And afterward, he’ll take me to see his neighbor Molly’s art studio. Miguel and I catch a taxi to Jamie’s apartment building, and when we arrive, we find Jamie waiting for us outside the building.

“Jamie, hi!” I say, stepping out of the taxi.

He greets me with a hug, and then shakes hands with Miguel.

“Do you guys mind if I join you for lunch?” Miguel says. “I’m starved.”

I could just kiss Miguel. As my bodyguard, he can’t very well let me go walking around Wicker Park without him – especially with what happened recently with the hit-and-run. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to imply that Jamie’s not capable of handling a problem, should one arise. Even blind, Jamie’s perfectly capable of handling himself against almost any physical threat. I’ve seen him in action. I’ve seen him sparring in the boxing ring with his brothers, who are all very accomplished martial artists. But Miguel has his orders – orders that came directly from Shane, and I know he’s been told not to leave my side for any reason when I’m out in public.

“Of course we don’t mind,” Jamie says.

We walk about two blocks, with Jamie leading the way, giving us a bit of a guided tour as we go. Jamie’s carrying a new electronic walking stick that he’s testing out. It sends out ultrasonic beams to map the path ahead of him, alerting him to the location and size of obstacles in his path through vibrations in the handle. I watch him, amazed, as he easily sidesteps a trash can and a lamp post. It’s almost like he has a sixth sense about where to place his feet, and where he is in relation to other people and objects. Either that, or he’s just really confident. Either way, he amazes me.

As a former Navy SEAL, Jamie likes to be challenged. That’s the whole reason why he moved out of Shane’s Kenilworth estate... to prove to himself and to others that he could live just fine on his own.

It’s just after noon, and the sidewalk is filled with pedestrians. In the heart of Wicker Park is an eclectic collection of restaurants and shops. There’s music drifting out of cafes, and a wide variety of indie boutiques line the main thoroughfare, including clothing shops, bakeries, bookstores, and art galleries.

Jamie stops outside a quaint little sandwich shop and opens the door for me and Miguel.

A young African-American woman with closely-cropped hair greets Jamie by name and directs the three of us to a table. Miguel and I peruse the menus for a moment while our server brings us glasses of ice water.

We all order sandwiches with chips.

“I sent the completed draft of my new book to your phone this morning,” Jamie tells me.

Since I met Jamie, he’s let me read his early drafts and give him feedback. His books center around a fictitious Navy SEAL team and are a real pleasure to read. The characters are memorable and the action is vivid, and I feel like I’m right there with them, traveling from one global hot-spot to another.

I pull up the reading app on my phone and there’s his new book. “Thank you! I can’t wait to start reading it.”

“Take your time,” he says. “I appreciate you doing this.”

While we’re eating, Jamie asks for updates on the accident, my arm, and Sam. I give him the updates, then say, “There’s something else.”

“What?”

I sigh heavily. Miguel already knows about my pregnancy, so I guess there’s no reason to beat around the bush. “I’m pregnant.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment, as he processes my announcement. “Wow... congratulations,” he says, sounding as shocked as I was when I first found out.

“Thank you. It wasn’t exactly planned. I was on the pill, but I guess it’s not one hundred percent foolproof.”

“How far along are you?”

“My doctor estimates I’m about nine or ten weeks. She said she’d be better able to tell at my next check-up.”

“How do you feel about this? Are you okay with it? Is Shane?”

“I think I’m still a little in shock. Shane’s been wonderful. He didn’t miss a beat. He went with me to my initial prenatal visit, and I have a strong feeling he’ll be a very hands-on dad.”

Jamie laughs. “I have no doubt about that.”

“We haven’t told many people. Cooper knows. Miguel knows. Tyler and my mom. And now you. We’re waiting until your parents get home next week, and then we’ll make an announcement to your whole family.”

Jamie sits back in his chair. “Wow, I’m going to be an uncle.”

I hear a phone chiming, and I’m surprised when Jamie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a smartphone. The phone doesn’t look like any model I’ve ever seen, especially the interface. He listens to a text message from Molly, asking what time we’re planning to stop by her studio. He replies to her, giving an ETA of about twenty minutes.

After we settle our bill, we head back outside and continue another couple of blocks until we reach a small art gallery. Through the windows, I see abstract paintings of all sizes hanging on the wall, on easels, and on tables and shelves. A hand-lettered sign hanging above the door reads MOLLY FERGUSON, ARTIST’S STUDIO.

Jamie opens the door, and we walk inside. The space is well lit and airy, but also very warm and inviting. The floors are vintage wood. One of the walls is floor-to-ceiling red brick, and the other two are painted white. The gallery is a mix of contemporary and urban chic. There’s a small sales counter with a cash register and a vase of fresh cut flowers.

I head for one of the walls to look more closely at Molly’s artwork. She paints abstracts in all sizes from tiny paintings no bigger than the palm of my hand to massive paintings that have to be at least eight feet wide.

“She must be in the back,” Jamie says. “The front half of the shop is her art gallery, and the back half is her studio where she paints.”

Eager to see her again, I head for the open doorway, where a curtain of beads divides the front room from the back. Jamie’s right behind me, with Miguel taking up the rear.

I step through the beads and come to a sudden halt, causing Jamie to bump into me, almost knocking me over.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie says as he reaches out to steady me.

Miguel pushes his way past Jamie, coming to stand in front of me, and he and I both stare at the man who has Molly backed into a corner, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat. She turns wide eyes in our direction, but says nothing.

“Molly,” I say, trying not to sound like I’m completely freaked out.

I’m not worried for myself, not with Miguel and Jamie present, but I’m very worried about Molly. Despite the fact that the man cornering Molly is dressed in an expensive suit, he radiates menace.

The man drops his hand from Molly’s neck and disappears without a word through a rear door leading into the alleyway.

Jamie steps forward, clearly on alert. “Molly? Are you all right?” 

“I’m okay,” she says nervously, coming away from the corner and mentally shaking herself.

Whoever that man was, he’d clearly frightened her.

Miguel heads out the rear door into the alley.

I clutch Jamie’s arm. “A man had Molly pinned in the corner, his hand around her throat. He left out the back door, and Miguel went after him.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Molly says shakily, absently rubbing her throat. She’s dressed in paint-splattered blue jeans and a black tank top with an equally splattered big, white shirt over top.

“Was it Todd?” Jamie says, his voice suddenly sharp.

“Yes,” Molly says.

Molly smiles at me apologetically. “Todd’s my ex-husband. He... shouldn’t be in here. I have a restraining order against him.”

“Are you all right?” I say, heading to her. I reach out and touch her arm. “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head, even as her fingers go to her throat, lightly skimming the reddened flesh as if feeling for bruises. “I’m all right. He just scared me.” Her gaze goes to Jamie, and she looks wary. “I’m fine, really.”

The back door opens and Miguel walks in, shaking his head. “He’s gone. There’s no sign of him.”

Jamie walks toward Molly, his hand outstretched, and she meets him halfway, taking his hand to guide him to her.

Jamie lays his cane on the floor and places both of his hands on Molly’s face, his thumbs brushing across her eyebrows, then down her cheeks to her lips. His fingers slip gently down to her throat, then to her shoulders. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“He startled me, that’s all,” she says. “I was back here painting, and he came in through the rear door and caught me by surprise. I must have forgotten to lock it this morning.”

Jamie frowns. “I’m having a security system installed here today.”

Molly sighs. “Jamie, we’ve talked about this. I told you, I can’t afford – ”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says. “It won’t cost you a penny.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “No, Jamie. I can’t let you do that.”

“Yes, you can,” he says, reaching for her hands. “I’m not leaving you here without any protection. End of story, so stop arguing with me.”

Molly glances my way, rolling her eyes. “Is he always this pushy?”

I laugh. “If you think this is pushy, you should meet his brother Shane.”

Shaken, Molly agrees to head back to their apartment building with us. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” she says, as she turns off the lights and locks up her shop.

Jamie ends a call on his phone and slips it into his jacket pocket. “I just spoke to my brother Jake,” he tells Molly. “He said he can have a team over here this afternoon to install a state-of-the-art security and surveillance system. No more surprise visitors, okay?”

Molly looks my way and rolls her eyes once more, and I have to bite back a snort.

“Welcome to my world,” I tell her. “The McIntyre men don’t mess around.”

“I know you ladies are laughing at me,” Jamie says, “but I don’t care. Molly, your ex-husband violated a restraining order coming into your shop. You need to make a police report.”

Molly’s expression falls, and I can see how stressed she is about the situation.

“Is he a threat?” I ask her. He must be, or she wouldn’t have a restraining order.

She nods. “He’s grown more and more erratic over the past year, since our divorce.”

“Why? What does he want?”

She gives me a telling look. “He wants me, but I refuse to go back to him.”

* * *

On the ride back to Clancy’s, I receive a call from Shane.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Well, actually there was an incident at Molly Ferguson’s art studio, but Jamie’s handling it. Her ex-husband showed up, in violation of a restraining order, and was aggressive with Molly. The guy’s creepy.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I just got word from Cooper that Sam’s being released from the hospital this afternoon. Cooper’s bringing him home to the penthouse while he recuperates.”

“He’s coming home? Already?”

“Apparently. Cooper said the swelling in his brain is gone, and his vitals are all normal. It looks like we’re going to have a new housemate for a couple of months.”

“Oh, my. Cooper and Sam living together under the same roof, with us? That’s going to be interesting.”

“Won’t it?” Shane says, and I can practically hear the smile in his voice. “If this doesn’t draw Cooper out of his shell, nothing will.”