Read Online A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) by Betsy Anne - Free Book Online Page A

is he? Does he live here in the neighborhood?” I go to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.
    “No, he doesn’t.” Melanie pauses.
    “Are you going to make me beg, Mel?”
    “OK. I’ll start at the beginning. Like I said before, we were in the mall, and little Miss Lou got away from me. I ran in the store and called to Brian to come and help me look for her. After a few harrowing minutes, a man walks up with her in his arms. She was happy and laughing when she saw us. He seemed hesitant when he looked at us, until it was obvious by her reaction that we were the parents.
    He apologized, saying that he recognized her from the park and that he thought her mom was a redhead. Lou must have recognized him, too, because there is no way she would have let him pick her up. He mentioned that he had met the two of you in the park, and assumed you were her mom. He was the guy from the train. He remembered you, and was concerned about the shape you were in. He said he tried to calm you down, and that you were a little ‘excited’ was the term he used.  We spoke with him for quite a while; he’s a very nice person. He’s a public safety officer here in Glencoe.” A flash of awareness crosses her face. “He must have been the same one who rescued her the first time! Brian, we owe this guy for saving our baby twice!”
    She turns back to me.
    “Becca, we have to go and thank him. I’ll make some cookies or something, and you and I will bring them up to the station. It’s the least we can do, especially since he didn’t rat you out. He only mentioned that he met you in the park; he didn’t say how.”
    I remember him now; the memories come flooding back. I have never been so scared in my life. I was so rude, not even saying thank you to him. Mel’s right. We do have to express our gratitude.
    “Did you get his name?” I ask, knowing we should probably call to make sure he’s on duty when we go there.
    “Yes. Wickham Dunmore. Did I happen to mention he also has a brogue? It’s slight, as if he’s trying to mask it, but it’s there. Very Scottish.”
    Now that I think about it, when he spoke to me that day, I did hear it in his voice. He must think we’re the worst family. I lose the baby, Melanie loses her, and he sees me drunk and acting like an idiot on mass transit. Even worse, that’s when he still thought I was the mom. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking that morning.
    “OK. When do you want to go?”
    “Let’s go on Wednesday. I’ll make some pies; they can have them for Thanksgiving. I’ll call ahead to make sure he’ll be there,” she says, her typical Melanie determination driving full speed ahead.
    * * *
    Since I have no real skill in the kitchen, Melanie did all the work. She made four pies and a couple of dozen cookies to bring to the station. She also called ahead to confirm that he was on duty. I’m a little nervous. I had a half-hour conversation with this person of whom I have zero recollection. There’s no telling what I said. I should also thank him for calming me down so I didn’t get arrested on the morning commuter train. How humiliating that would have been.
    We pull up outside the station right before lunchtime. The small downtown is buzzing with visitors and shoppers, Thanksgiving being tomorrow. When we walk in the front doors, I’m hit with an incredible smell. It’s either chili or soup of some kind simmering on a stove. A female officer greets us warmly, seeing the food, and invites us in.
    “Hi! Can I help you?” she says as she eyeballs our dessert-laden arms.
    “Yes, thank you,” Mel says, as she passes two of the pies over to her. “These are for the whole station, but we’re really here to see Wickham. Is he free?”
    “Goodness, thank you. Whatever he did to deserve all this must have been pretty special. Hey, Wick! You have visitors!” She motions for us to follow her into the kitchen.
    We put down our goodies, and she invites us to sit. I