Free Touch of Heaven by Maureen Smith Page A

always the beautiful ones,” he muttered, and he and his uncle grinned at each other.
    After Randall explained the issue he was having, the two men spent the next several minutes peering into the guts of the engine and trying to diagnose the problem. Randall, who’d been rebuilding engines since his early teens, had taught Warrick everything he knew. Warrick had spent many summer afternoons under the hoods of cars his uncle repaired for friends and colleagues, jobs Randall did on the side to supplement his income. It was under his uncle’s tutelage that Warrick had discovered an affinity—and an innate talent—for taking things apart and rebuilding them, which eventually had led him to a career in engineering.
    â€œRun into any of your old high school buddies since you’ve been back in town?” Randall asked conversationally.
    Warrick shook his head, absorbed in an inspection of the cylinder, an original part in surprisingly good condition. “Not yet. No, wait. What am I saying? I had dinner with Deniece Labelle last night.”
    Randall arched a brow. “Oh, is that right? How’s she doing? She writes for the Chronicle, right?”
    â€œNo, one of the other papers. The Ledger. And she’s doing great.”
    Randall nodded. “How was dinner?”
    â€œGood, good.” What happened afterward was even better, Warrick silently mused. Of course, it would have been that much better if he hadn’t been thinking about Raina— Raina! —practically the entire time. There had to be a special place in hell reserved for a guy who fantasized about one woman—a woman he didn’t even like—while making love to another.
    Warrick frowned darkly at the thought.
    Randall shot him a warning look. “Now, don’t you go breaking that young lady’s heart again, War. You know her parents still blame you for their daughter not being married by now.”
    Startled, Warrick stared at his uncle. “Whose parents?”
    â€œDeniece’s.” Randall frowned at him. “Who did you think I was talking about?”
    â€œDeniece. Of course.” His gaze slid away. “How do you know her parents blame me for Deniece being single?”
    â€œWell, don’t forget her father was the police chief before he retired. I still see him around from time to time, and he always asks me how you’re doing and makes some joke about how you broke his daughter’s heart after high school, how she won’t settle down with any man she’s dated over the years because she keeps comparing them to you and finding them lacking.”
    Warrick grimaced, even as Deniece’s wistful words echoed in his mind. You’re the only man who ever really took the time to get to know me. The real me.
    Randall continued, “You know I’d be the last one to lecture you about your love life, considering I couldn’t make my own marriage work. But when it comes to women, I like to think I’ve learned a thing or two along the way. You’re a good-looking, intelligent, highly successful young man. As I told you when your business started taking off, all kinds of women—black, white, yellow and green—are going to be throwing themselves at you like nothing you’ve ever seen before. And I was right. Now, no one can blame you for having some fun. You work hard, you deserve to play hard. Hell, even I was impressed when you started dating that pretty actress with the longname, the one who was in that movie a couple years ago with Forest Whitaker. What was her name again?” Randall looked askance at his nephew.
    Warrick actually drew a blank.
    His uncle laughed, wagging his head reproachfully. “You just proved my point, son. Messing around with those Hollywood types is one thing, but when you start messing around in your own backyard, you open yourself up to a world of trouble. You’ve known Deniece since you were sixteen, and you