Книга - Two of a Kind

Two of a Kind
Susan Mallery


New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery welcomes readers back to Fool’s Gold, where a one-time fling could become the real thing…Felicia Swift never dreamed she’d hear a deep, sexy voice from her past in tiny Fool’s Gold, California. The last time Gideon Boylan whispered in her ear was half a world away…on the morning after the hottest night of her life. Her freaky smarts have limited her close friendships, and romance, but she came to Fool’s Gold looking for ordinary.Gorgeous, brooding Gideon is anything but that. Black Ops taught Gideon that love could be deadly. Now he pretends to fit in while keeping everyone at arm's length. Felicia wants more than he can give—a home, family, love—but she has a lot to learn about men…and Gideon needs to be the man to teach her.As these two misfits discover that passion isn’t the only thing they have in common, they just might figure out that two of a kind should never be split apart.Praise for Susan Mallery"An adorable, outspoken heroine and an intense hero in need of emotional healing set the sparks flying…." —Library Journal on Only Yours







New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery welcomes readers back to Fool’s Gold, where a one-time fling could become the real thing.…

Felicia Swift never dreamed she’d hear a deep, sexy voice from her past in tiny Fool’s Gold, California. The last time Gideon Boylan whispered in her ear was half a world away…on the morning after the hottest night of her life. Her freaky smarts have limited her close friendships, and romance, but she came to Fool’s Gold looking for ordinary. Gorgeous, brooding Gideon is anything but that.

Black Ops taught Gideon that love could be deadly. Now he pretends to fit in while keeping everyone at arm’s length. Felicia wants more than he can give—a home, family, love—but she has a lot to learn about men…and Gideon needs to be the man to teach her.

As these two misfits discover that passion isn’t the only thing they have in common, they just might figure out that two of a kind should never be split apart.


Praise for New York Times bestselling author






“There’s a little fun, a little sizzle, and a whole lot of homespun charm.”

—Publishers Weekly on Summer Nights

“Mallery infuses her story with eccentricity, gentle humor and small-town shenanigans, and readers…will enjoy the connection between Heidi and Rafe.”

—Publishers Weekly on Summer Days

“If you want a story that will both tug on your heartstrings and tickle your funny bone, Mallery is the author for you!”

—RT Book Reviews on Only His

“An adorable, outspoken heroine and an intense hero…set the sparks flying in Mallery’s latest lively, comic and touching family-centered story.”

—Library Journal on Only Yours

“Mallery...excels at creating varied, well-developed characters and an emotion-packed story gently infused with her trademark wit and humor.”

—Booklist on Only Mine

One of the Top 10 Romances of 2011!

“Mallery’s prose is luscious and provocative.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Susan Mallery’s gift for writing humor and tenderness makes all her books true gems.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Romance novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.”

—Booklist


Two of a Kind

Susan Mallery




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To 2012 Fool’s Gold Co-Head Cheerleader Judie Bouldry and her girls’ great Nana Ellen, who shares her love of reading. Judie, you’re clever and enthusiastic, and Fool’s Gold is lucky to have you!


Contents

Chapter One (#uf32ca54e-22a1-59fa-84a8-9a5beb0e2ace)

Chapter Two (#u773e6f26-4999-5a40-8aa5-1c99ac9d7982)

Chapter Three (#u4f489795-bdf0-526d-baa8-8526c5a90f44)

Chapter Four (#u620b9b83-4597-5ca4-b00b-60c8592ca4f6)

Chapter Five (#ue28ebdb1-ab97-5ed0-997a-d4378c89fb1a)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

RATIONAL THOUGHT AND a working knowledge of hand-to-hand combat were useless when faced with the villainous power of the American house spider.

Felicia Swift stood immobilized in the corner of the warehouse, aware of the web, of the arachnid watching her, no doubt plotting her downfall. Where there was one female American house spider, there were others, and she knew they were all after her.

The logical part of her brain nearly laughed out loud at her fears. In her head, Felicia understood that spiders did not, in fact, travel in packs or scheme to attack her. But intelligence and logic were no match for a true arachnophobe. She could write papers, prepare flow charts and even do experiments from now until the next appearance of Halley’s Comet. She was terrified of spiders and they knew it.

“I’m going to back away slowly,” she said in a soft, soothing voice.

Technically, spiders didn’t have ears. They could sense vibration, but with her speaking quietly, there wouldn’t be much of that. Still, she felt better talking, so she kept up the words as she inched toward the exit, always keeping her gaze locked firmly on the enemy.

Light spilled from the open door. Light meant freedom and spider-free breathing. Light meant—

The light suddenly blacked out. Felicia jumped and turned, prepared to do battle with the giant mother-of-all-spiders. Instead she faced a tall man with shaggy hair and a scar by his eyebrow.

“I heard a scream,” he said. “I came to see if there was a problem.” He frowned. “Felicia?”

Because the spiders weren’t enough, she thought frantically. How was that possible?

Fortes fortuna adiuvat.

She tried to rein in her unwieldy brain. Fortune favors the brave? That was helpful how? She had spiders behind her, the man who took her virginity in front of her, and she was thinking in Latin?

Felicia sucked in a breath and steadied herself. She was a logistics expert. She’d never met a crisis she couldn’t organize her way out of, and today would be no exception. She would work from big to small and reward herself by doing the Sunday New York Times crossword in less than four minutes.

“Hello, Gideon,” she said, bracing herself for her hormonal reaction to this man.

He moved closer, his dark eyes filling with emotion. She had never been all that good at reading other people’s feelings, but even she recognized confusion.

As he approached, she was aware of the size of him—the sheer broadness of his shoulders. His T-shirt seemed stretched to the point of ripping across his chest and biceps. He looked lethal but still graceful. The kind of man who was at home in any dangerous part of the world.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

By here, she assumed he meant in Fool’s Gold and not in the warehouse itself.

She squared her shoulders—a feeble attempt to look larger and more in control. Similar to a cat arching its back and raising its fur. But she doubted Gideon was going to be any more intimidated by her than he would be by a hissing tabby.

“I live in town now.”

“I knew that. I meant what are you doing in this warehouse?”

“Oh.”

An unexpected response, she thought, suddenly less sure of herself. A result of the spider encounter. Their powers were far-reaching. She’d planned to avoid any contact with Gideon for several months. Here it was less than five weeks into her plan and they’d run into each other.

“I’m working,” she said, returning her attention to his question. “How did you know I was in town?”

“Justice told me.”

“He did?” Something her business associate hadn’t mentioned to her. “When?”

“A few weeks ago.” Gideon’s mouth curved into a smile. “He told me to stay away from you.”

His voice, she thought, trying not to get lost in the memories of what the sound meant to her. While olfactory recollections were thought to be the strongest, a sound or a phrase could also shift a person back to another time. Felicia had no doubt she could easily be transported by Gideon’s scent; right now she was most concerned about his voice.

He had one of those low, sexy voices. As ridiculous as it sounded, the combination of tone and cadence reminded her of chocolate. Now his voice was a vibration she was sure the spiders could get behind. She should—

Her chin came up as her brain replayed his statement.

“Justice told you to stay away from me?”

Gideon raised one powerful shoulder. “He suggested it was a good idea. After what happened.”

Outraged, she planted her hands on her hips, then thought hitting Justice was a far better idea. Only, he wasn’t there.

“What happened between you and me isn’t his business,” she said firmly.

“You’re his family.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to get in the middle of my personal life.”

“I didn’t see you trying to find me,” Gideon pointed out. “I figured you were comfortable with his...intervention.”

“Of course not,” she began, only to realize she had been avoiding Gideon, but not for the reasons he thought. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m seeing that,” he told her. “So you’re okay?”

“Of course. Our sexual encounter was over four years ago.” She had no idea if he’d guessed she’d been a virgin or not and didn’t see any reason to mention it now. “Our night together was...satisfying.” An understatement, she thought, remembering how Gideon had made her feel. “I’m sorry Justice and Ford broke down the hotel room door the following morning.”

Gideon’s expression changed to one of amusement. It was a look Felicia was used to seeing, and she knew it meant she’d somehow missed an obvious social cue or taken a joking comment literally.

She held in a sigh. She was smart. Scary smart, as she’d often been told. She’d grown up around scientists and graduate students. Ask her about the origins of the universe and she could give a fact-based lecture on the subject without having to prepare. But interpersonal interactions were harder. She was so damned awkward, she thought glumly. She said the wrong thing or sounded like a space alien with bad programming, when all she wanted was to be just like everyone else.

“I meant are you okay now,” he said. “You screamed. That’s why I came in.”

She pressed her lips together. For possibly the thousandth time in her life she thought how she would gladly exchange thirty IQ points for just a small increase in social awareness.

“I’m fine,” she said, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Couldn’t be better. Thank you for coming to my rescue—however unnecessary that was.”

He took a step toward her. “I’m always happy to help out a beautiful woman.”

Flirting, she thought, automatically monitoring his pupil dilation to see if it was real or simply politeness. When a man was sexually interested, his pupils dilated. But it was too dark in the warehouse for her to be sure.

“What made you scream?” he asked.

She drew in a breath. “I saw a spider.”

One eyebrow rose.

“It was large and aggressive,” she added.

“A spider?”

“Yes. I have issues with them.”

“Apparently.”

“I’m not stupid. I know it’s not rational.”

Gideon chuckled. “You’re many things, Felicia, but we’re all aware that stupid isn’t one of them.”

Before she could figure out what to say to that, Gideon turned and walked away. She was so caught up in the way his jeans fit his butt that she couldn’t think of anything to say, and then he was gone and she was alone with little more than her mouth hanging open, a herd of American house spiders and their plans for her.

* * *

GIDEON BOYLAN KNEW the danger of flashbacks. They could come on suddenly and disoriented him. They were vivid, engaging all his senses, and when they were gone, a man had no way of knowing what was real and what was imagined. After being held captive for two years, he’d been ready to give in to madness. At least it would have been an escape.

His rescue had come just in time, although too late for the men who had been with him. But even being out of the hands of tormentors hadn’t given him any sense of freedom. The memories were just as painful as the imprisonment had been.

Focus, he told himself as he loaded the CD and checked his playlist for the next three hours. He had put his past behind him. Some days he even believed it. Seeing Felicia earlier had been a kick in the gut, but he would take a flashback of a beautiful woman in his bed every time. Still, he’d had to take a five-mile run and then meditate for nearly an hour before he’d felt calm enough to head to the radio station.

“We’re doing it the old-fashioned way tonight,” he said into the microphone. “Just like we always do.”

Beyond the control room, the station was dark, the way he liked it. He didn’t mind the dark. If it was dark, he was safe. They’d never come for him in the dark. They’d always turned the lights on first.

“It’s eleven o’clock in Fool’s Gold and this is Gideon. I’m going to dedicate tonight’s first song to a lovely lady I ran into today. You know who you are.”

He pushed the button and “Wild Thing” by the Troggs started.

Gideon smiled to himself. He had no way of knowing if Felicia was listening or not, but he liked the idea of playing a song for her.

A red light flashed on the wall. He glanced at it, aware someone was ringing the front bell. After hours, the signal flashed back in the control room. An interesting time for visitors. He walked to the front of the radio station and unlocked the door. Ford Hendrix stood in front of the door, a beer in each hand.

Gideon grinned and waved his friend in. “I heard you were in town.”

“Yeah, back two days and I’m already regretting the decision.”

Gideon took the offered beer. “Welcome home the conquering hero?”

“Something like that.”

Gideon had known Ford for years. Although Ford was a SEAL, they’d served together on a joint task force, and later, when Gideon had been left in his Taliban prison to rot, Ford had been one of those who had risked his life to get him out.

“Come on back. I have to put on the next song.”

They walked down the long corridor. “I can’t believe you own this place,” Ford said, following him into the control room. “It’s a radio station.”

“Huh. That explains all the music.”

Ford took the seat opposite Gideon’s. Gideon put on his headphones and flipped a switch.

“This is my night for dedications,” he said. “I apologize for going digital for a second, but it’s the only way to cue up quickly. Here we go. Welcome home, Ford.”

The opening of “Born to be Wild” began.

“You really are a bastard,” Ford said conversationally.

“I find myself an amusing companion.”

Ford was about Gideon’s size. Strong and, on the surface, easygoing. But Gideon knew that anyone who had been to the places they’d been and done what they’d done traveled with ghosts.

“What brings you out so late at night?” he asked.

Ford grimaced. “I woke up and found my mom hovering over me in my room. Fortunately I recognized her before I reacted. I need to get out of there.”

“So find an apartment.”

“Believe me, I’m looking first thing in the morning. She begged me to wait, and I figured moving back home couldn’t be too hard. You know, connect with family.”

Gideon had made the attempt once. It hadn’t gone well.

“My brothers are okay,” Ford continued. “But my mom and my sisters are staying way too close.”

“They’re glad you’re home. You were gone a long time.”

Gideon didn’t know all the details, but he’d heard Ford had left Fool’s Gold when he was twenty and hadn’t been back much in the past fourteen years.

Ford took a long swallow of his beer. “My mom’s already asking if I’ve thought of settling down.” He shuddered.

“Not ready for a wife and the pitter-patter of little feet?”

“No, although I wouldn’t mind getting laid.” Ford glanced at him. “You’re in trouble, by the way.”

“I always am.”

His friend laughed. “Felicia went after Justice this afternoon. She said he had no right to tell you to stay away from her. When she gets mad, it’s quite the show. Talk about a woman who can handle the big words.”

“You know her?”

“Not well. The first time I met her was in Thailand.”

When both Justice and Ford had interrupted Gideon’s night with Felicia. Or rather the following morning. A polite way of saying they’d busted down the door and Justice had insisted on taking Felicia with him. Gideon had tried to go after her, but Ford had held him back.

Gideon hadn’t seen her again until today. When she’d been fighting marauding spiders.

“She was pissed at Justice?” he asked.

Ford shook his head. “Leave me out of this. We’re not in high school, and I’m not passing notes in study hall or asking her if she likes you. You’ll have to do it yourself.”

Gideon was tempted. That night had been memorable. She was an intriguing combination of determined, sexy and geeky. But he knew he wasn’t her type—he wasn’t anyone’s. To the untrained eye he looked as if he’d healed, but he knew what was underneath. He wasn’t a good relationship risk. Of course, if Felicia was looking for something less serious and more naked, he was all in.

Ford finished his beer. “Mind if I bunk in an empty office?”

“There’s a futon in the break room.”

“Thanks.”

Gideon didn’t bother mentioning it wasn’t that comfortable. For a guy like Ford, a ratty futon was just as good as a four-star hotel bed. In their line of work, you learned to make do.

Ford dropped the bottle into the blue recycling bin, then headed down the hall. Gideon put in a CD, then searched until he found the right track.

“You Keep Me Hanging On” began to play.

* * *

FELICIA HURRIED TOWARD Brew-haha. She was late, which never happened. She liked her life to be organized and calm. Structured. Which meant she always knew where she was going to be and what she was going to be doing. Being late was not part of her plan.

But ever since she’d seen Gideon the day before, she’d been out of sorts. The man confused her. No, she thought as she walked by the park, her reaction to him confused her.

She was used to being around physically powerful men. She’d worked with soldiers for years. But Gideon was different. The result of their sexual history, she thought. Percentage-wise, a single night was such a small part of a person’s life, yet it could have lasting impact. A trauma of any kind could stay with a person forever. But her time with Gideon had been wonderful, not traumatic. The memories of that night along with their meeting yesterday kept swirling in her head. As a woman who liked her brain as tidy as she liked her life, she was unprepared for being so unsettled.

She paused to wait for the light so she could cross the street. As she stood, she saw a young mother with two small boys. They were maybe two and four, the youngest still a little unsteady as he ran across the grass. He came to a stop, turned and saw his mother and brother, then smiled broadly.

Felicia stared greedily, absorbing the pure joy of the moment, the unselfconsciousness of the happy toddler. This was why she’d come to Fool’s Gold, she reminded herself. To be somewhere normal. To try to be like everyone else. To maybe even fall in love and have a family. To belong.

For someone who had grown up as a whiz kid on a university college campus, normal sounded like heaven. She wanted what other people took for granted.

The light changed, and she crossed quickly, aware of her lateness. Mayor Marsha hadn’t said why she wanted to meet and Felicia hadn’t asked. She’d assumed her skills were needed on a project of some kind. Maybe setting up an inventory system for the city.

She walked through the open door into the coffeehouse. Brew-haha had opened a couple of months before. Hardwood floors gleamed as sunlight spilled through the big windows. There were plenty of tables, a nice selection of pastries and delicious caffeine in all forms.

Patience, the owner and one of Felicia’s friends, smiled. “You’re late,” she said cheerfully. “I’m excited to know you have flaws. There’s hope for the rest of us.”

Felicia groaned as her friend pointed to a table toward the back. Sure enough, Mayor Marsha Tilson and Pia Moreno were already seated there.

“I’ll bring you a latte,” Patience added, already reaching for a large mug.

“Thanks.”

Felicia made her way through the tables toward the other women. Mayor Marsha, California’s longest-serving mayor, was a well-dressed woman in her early seventies. She favored suits and, during business hours, wore her white hair up in a classic bun. She was, Felicia thought wistfully, the perfect combination of competent and motherly.

Pia, a willowy brunette with curly hair and a ready smile, jumped to her feet as Felicia approached. “You made it. Thanks for coming. It’s summer with what feels like a festival every fifteen minutes. I’m happy to be out of my office, even for a business meeting.”

She gave Felicia a quick hug. Felicia responded in kind, despite her surprise. She’d only met Pia a couple of times and didn’t think they were all that close. Still, the physical contact was pleasant and implied a connection.

Patience brought over the latte and a plate of cookies. “We’re sampling today,” she said with a grin. “From the bakery. They’re too fabulous.” She pushed the plate into the center of the table with her left hand. Her diamond ring flashed.

Mayor Marsha touched Patience’s ring finger. “What a beautiful setting,” she said. “Justice did a very nice job choosing the ring.”

Patience sighed and studied her engagement ring. “I know. I keep staring at it when I should be working. But I can’t help myself.”

She returned to the front of the store. Pia watched her go.

“Young love,” she said with a sigh.

“You’re still young and very much in love,” the mayor reminded her.

“I am still in love,” Pia said and laughed. “Most days I don’t feel so young. But I’ll agree with you on the ring. It’s impressive.”

Mayor Marsha turned to Felicia and raised her eyebrows. “Not a big diamond fan?”

“I don’t get the appeal,” she admitted. “They sparkle, but they’re simply pressurized rocks.”

“Expensive rocks,” Pia teased.

“Because we assign them significance. They have little intrinsic value, except for their hardness. In some industrial settings...” She paused, aware she was not only talking too much, she was heading into a subject everyone else would find boring. “Fossils are interesting,” she murmured. “Their formation seems more serendipitous.”

The other two women glanced at each other, then back at her. Their expressions were polite, but Felicia recognized the signs. They were both thinking she was a freak. Sadly, they were right about that.

Moments like this one were the main reasons she worried about having the family she wanted so desperately. What if she couldn’t have children? Not biologically. There was no reason to assume she couldn’t procreate as well as the next woman. But was she emotionally sound enough? Could she learn what she didn’t know? She trusted her brain implicitly but was less sure about her instincts, and maybe her heart.

She’d grown up never fitting in—a reality she would never want to foist on any child she might have.

“Amber is tree sap, isn’t it?” Pia asked. “Wasn’t that the basis of that movie? The dinosaur one?”

“Jurassic Park,” the mayor said.

“Right. Raoul loves that movie. He and Peter watch it together. I won’t let the twins anywhere near the room, though. They wouldn’t be able to sleep for weeks after seeing T.rex eating that man.”

Felicia started to point out all the scientific inconsistencies in the movie, then pressed her lips together. She believed that many life lessons could be found in clichés, and right now the phrase “less is more” came to mind.

Mayor Marsha took a sip of her coffee. “Felicia, I’m sure you’re wondering why we wanted to meet with you today.”

Pia shook her head. “Right. The meeting.” She smiled. “I’m pregnant.”

“Congratulations.”

The expected response, Felicia thought, not sure why the other woman was sharing the information. But then they’d hugged, so perhaps Pia thought they were closer than Felicia did. She wasn’t always good at judging things like that.

Pia laughed. “Thanks. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Ask poor Patience. I had a complete breakdown in front of her not that long ago. I’ve been forgetful and disorganized. Then I found out I’m pregnant. It was good to have a physical cause for my craziness and not have to worry about going insane.”

She cupped her hands around her mug of tea. “I already have three kids. Peter and the twins. I love my work, but with a fourth baby on the way, I can’t possibly stay on top of everything that’s happening. I’ve been wrestling with the fact that I can’t be in charge of the festivals anymore.”

Felicia nodded politely. She doubted they were going to ask for her recommendation on who should take Pia’s place. They would know that better than she would. Unless they wanted her to help with the search. She could easily come up with a list of criteria and—

Mayor Marsha smiled at her over her mug. “We were thinking of you.”

Felicia opened her mouth, then closed it. Words genuinely failed her—a very uncommon experience. “For the job?”

“Yes. You have an unusual skill set. Your time with the military has given you experience at dealing with a bureaucracy. While I like to think we’re more nimble than most city governments, the truth is we still move very slowly and there’s a form for everything. Logistics are your gift, and the festivals are all about logistics. You’ll bring a fresh set of eyes to what we’ve been doing.”

Mayor Marsha paused to smile at Pia. “Not that you haven’t been brilliant.”

Pia laughed. “Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. Felicia can be better than me. If she is, I won’t have to feel guilty.”

“I don’t understand,” Felicia whispered. “You want me to be in charge of the festivals?”

“Yes,” the mayor said firmly.

“But they’re important to the town. I know you have other industries, but I would guess that tourism is your main source of income. The university and the hospital would be the largest employers, but the visitors are the real money.”

“You’re right,” Pia said. “Don’t get me started on how much per person, because I can tell you within a couple of dollars.”

Felicia thought about mentioning she was the sort of person who enjoyed math, then told herself it wasn’t pertinent to the subject at hand.

“Why would you trust me with the festivals?” she asked, knowing it was the only question that mattered.

“Because you’ll make sure they’re done right,” Mayor Marsha told her. “You’ll stand up for what you believe in. But mostly because you’ll care as much as we do.”

“You can’t know that,” Felicia told her.

The mayor smiled. “Of course I can, dear.”


CHAPTER TWO

FELICIA DROVE UP the mountain. She’d left town a couple miles back and was now on a two-lane road with a gentle grade and wide shoulders. She took the curves slowly, not wanting to find herself grill-to-nose with any wildlife out foraging in the warm summer night. Overhead the sky was a mass of stars with the moon only partially visible through a canopy of leaves.

It was after two in the morning. She’d gone to bed at her usual time, but had been unable to sleep. She’d been restless much of the day. Actually since her meeting, she thought. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around what the mayor and Pia had suggested. That she run the festivals.

Her usual response to a difficult problem was to brainstorm solutions. Only this wasn’t that kind of problem. This was about people and tradition and an intangible she couldn’t identify. She was both excited by the opportunity and frightened. She had never shied away from responsibility before, but this was different, and she didn’t know what to do.

The result of which was her drive up the mountain.

She turned down a small, paved road that was marked as private. A quarter mile later, she saw the house set back in the trees. Gideon’s house.

She hadn’t known who else to talk to. She had started to make friends in town, women who tried to understand her and appreciate the effort she made to bond. Funny, charming women who all had a connection with the town. And that was the problem. The town. She needed an outside opinion.

Normally she would have gone to Justice, but he had recently gotten engaged to Patience. Felicia wasn’t clear on all the dynamics that went into falling in love, but she was pretty sure keeping secrets broke a major rule. Which meant Justice would tell Patience what Felicia said, bringing her back to needing an outside opinion.

She parked in the wide, circular driveway and got out of her car. There was a long front porch and big windows that would allow in plenty of light. She would guess that light and sky would be important to a man like Gideon.

She walked to the porch and sat on the steps to wait. His shift ended at two, so she would expect him to arrive shortly. He didn’t strike her as the type to stop in a bar on the way home. Not that she could say how she knew that about him.

The little information she had on Gideon was sketchy at best. Their time together four years ago had been more physical than conversational. She knew that he was former military, that he’d been assigned to covert ops and that his work had taken him places no man should have to go. She knew that he and his team had been taken prisoner for nearly two years. That had happened before they’d met.

She’d never discovered any details on his captivity, mostly because the information had been classified beyond her pay grade. Technically she could have gotten into the file, but Felicia was less concerned about if she could do something than if she should. What she did know was that Gideon had been involved in the kind of missions that were so exciting in movies but deadly in real life. The kind that if the operative got caught—no one was coming after him. Because of that, Gideon had spent twenty-two months in the hands of the Taliban. She assumed he’d been tortured and abused until death had seemed like the best possible outcome. Then he’d been rescued. The other men with him hadn’t made it out.

Headlights appeared through the bushes. She watched Gideon’s truck pull up behind her car. He turned off the engine, then got out and walked toward her.

He was tall, with broad shoulders. In the starlight there were no details—just the silhouette of the man. A shiver raced through her. Not apprehension, she thought. Anticipation. Her body remembered what Gideon had done, how he’d touched her with a combination of tenderness and desperation. His hunger had chased away any nerves.

While she’d studied the subject of sexual intimacy, knowing in her head and experiencing in person were two different things. Reading about the states of arousal had been nothing like experiencing them. Intellectual knowledge of why a tongue stroke on a nipple might feel good hadn’t prepared her for the wet heat of his mouth on her breast. And knowing the progression of an orgasm hadn’t come close to actually feeling the shuddering release that had claimed her.

“You’re unexpected,” he said, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

In the starlight, she couldn’t read his expression. She couldn’t see if he was remembering, too. “I need to talk to someone,” she admitted. “You came to mind.”

His eyebrows rose. “Okay. That’s a new one. I haven’t seen you in four years and you thought of me?”

“Technically you saw me in the warehouse.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes, and it was meaningful for me, too.” The almost-smile faded. “What do you want to talk about?”

“It’s work related, but if you don’t want to have a conversation, I can leave.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “Come on in. I’m too wired to sleep after I work. I usually do Tai Chi to relax, but having a conversation works, too.”

He walked past her. She rose and followed him inside.

The house was big and open, with plenty of wood and high ceilings. Gideon flipped on lights as he moved through a great room with a fireplace at one end. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the darkness. While she couldn’t make out details of the view, she had a sense of vastness beyond.

“Is the house on the edge of a canyon?” she asked.

“Side of a mountain.”

He went into the kitchen. There were plenty of cabinets, lots of granite countertops and stainless appliances. He pulled two beers out of the refrigerator and handed her one.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” he said.

“I was, but now that we’ve spoken there didn’t seem to be any need to continue.”

“Huh.”

His dark gaze was steady but unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking. His voice was appealing, but that was more about physiology than any interest in her. Gideon had one of those low, rumbly voices that sounded so good on the radio. He could make a detergent sound sexy if he put any effort into it.

He flipped off the kitchen lights. She blinked in the sudden darkness, then heard more than saw him walk across the room and open a sliding glass door. Moonlight illuminated the shadow of him disappearing onto what would be the back deck of the house. She followed.

There were a few lounge chairs and a couple of small tables. Forest stretched out beyond the railing. The trees angled down—Gideon hadn’t been kidding about the house being on the side of a mountain.

She settled in a chair close to his, with one of the tables between them. She rested her head against the cushions and stared up at the star-filled sky. The half-moon had nearly cleared the mountain, illuminating the quiet forest and still mountain.

The air was cool, but not cold. In the distance she heard the faint hoot of an owl. An occasional leaf rustled.

“I can see why you like it here,” she said, reaching for her beer. “It’s restful. You’re close enough to town to get to the station but far enough away to not have to deal with too many unexpected visitors.” She smiled. “Excluding me, of course.”

“I like it.”

“Do you get snowed in during the winter?”

“I didn’t last year. We hardly had any snow. But it’s going to happen.” He shrugged. “I’m prepared.”

He would be, she thought, because of his military training. She’d noticed that she and Justice often came at a problem from different angles but with the same objective. And speaking of her friend...

“I couldn’t talk to Justice about this,” she said.

Gideon raised his eyebrows. “All right.”

“I thought you’d want to know why. Because he and I are like family.” She turned on the lounge chair, angling herself toward him.

He was in silhouette again. A powerful man momentarily tamed. Her gaze drifted to his hands. She was tall, but with Gideon she’d felt delicate. For a few hours in his bed, she hadn’t been frighteningly brilliant or freakishly organized. She’d been a woman—just like everyone else.

“So what’s the problem?”

For a second she thought he was referring to her study of his hands, and the resulting memories. “It’s the town.”

“You don’t like it here?”

“I like it very much.” She drew in a breath. “The mayor has asked me to take over running the festivals. Pia Moreno had been doing it for several years, but she already has three kids and is pregnant with a fourth. It’s too much for her.”

Gideon shrugged. “You’d be perfect for the job.”

“On the surface. The logistics would be easy enough, but that’s not the point. It’s the significance.”

“Of the festivals?”

She nodded. “They are the heartbeat of the town. Time is measured by the festivals. When I go out with my friends, they often talk about festivals from the past, or what’s coming up. Why is Mayor Marsha willing to trust them to me?”

“Because she thinks you’ll do a good job.”

“Of course I’ll do the work. It’s more than that.”

“You’re scared.”

Felicia drew in a breath. “I wouldn’t say scared.”

He took a drink of his beer. “You can pick some big word if you want, but you mean scared. You don’t want to let them down and you’re afraid you’re going to.”

“I thought I was the most direct person in any conversation,” she murmured.

* * *

GIDEON LEANED BACK in his chair and closed his eyes. It was safer than looking at Felicia, especially in moonlight. With her big green eyes and flame-red hair, she was a classic beauty. How would she describe herself? Ethereal, maybe. He smiled.

“This isn’t funny,” she told him.

“It kind of is.” But not for the reason she thought. His situation was more ironic.

He’d built his house and designed his life so that he chose if and when he interacted with anyone. Last night Ford had been his surprise guest. Tonight it was Felicia. The difference was he’d been comfortable around his friend. Not so much with the woman sitting only a few feet away.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, it was that he was aware. Of the soft sound of her breathing. Of the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. Of how she occasionally looked at him like she was remembering them naked together.

Wanting stirred. It had been dormant so long that the physical act of blood rushing to his groin was painful. Thinking pure thoughts didn’t help, mostly because he didn’t have any where she was concerned. Of course now he was left with a hard-on and nowhere to put it, so to speak.

He glanced at Felicia and wondered what she would say if he told her he wanted her. Any other woman would be flustered or embarrassed. A few might start taking off their clothes as a way to say yes. But what about Felicia?

He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance she would discuss the biological process of arousal and an erection in such scientific terms that the blood would retreat in self-defense, thereby solving the problem. On the other hand, she could do what she’d done when they’d met in Thailand—look him directly in the eye and ask if he wanted to have sex with her.

“You were the most beautiful woman in that bar,” he told her. “I was surprised when you came over to talk to me.”

“You seemed nice.”

“No one’s said that about me in a long time.”

She smiled. “I was still in the military at the time and working with guys in Special Forces. I was comfortable being around dangerous men. I can’t explain why I picked you, though. I found you appealing, of course. I suppose I also had a chemical reaction. Perhaps to your pheromones. Attraction isn’t an exact science.”

She ducked her head, then looked back on him. “It was my first time.”

“Picking up a guy? You did good. I was immediately intrigued.”

“I was wearing a very low-cut sundress. Most men are attracted to breasts. Plus I’d run in place for a few minutes before going into the bar. The scent of female sweat is also sexually attractive to men.”

“I feel used.”

She laughed. “No, you don’t.”

“You’re right.” They’d had a great night. “I wanted to see you again, but I couldn’t find you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I got sent back to the States. I’m sure Justice had something to do with it.” She paused. “I didn’t mean I’d never picked up a man in a bar before, Gideon. I meant you were my first time. I was a virgin.”

Gideon stared at her, his beer halfway to his mouth. He returned it to the table. Memories of that night flashed through his head. Of Felicia exploring his body as if she couldn’t get enough. Her eager cries of “more” and “harder.” She’d been so clear on what she wanted that he’d assumed... No guy could have ever guessed...

“Shit.”

“Don’t be upset,” she told him. “Please. I didn’t say anything that night because I was afraid you’d turn me down. Or that it would make things difficult. That you’d be too careful or tentative.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Twenty-four.” She sighed. “Which was part of the problem. No one would sleep with me. I was tired of not knowing. Of being different. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a virgin. I suppose in a perfect world I would have waited until I fell in love. Only, how was that supposed to happen?”

She sat up and faced him. “I grew up on a university campus. They had very polite words to describe my situation, but at the heart of it, I was a lab experiment. I joined the Army and was quickly moved into logistics for Special Forces. Guys everywhere, right? Except I was so socially awkward, I think I scared them. Or they saw me as a sister, like Justice. I kept waiting to meet someone. For that first kiss, that first time. But it wasn’t happening.”

She twisted her fingers together. “I went to the bar for three nights before I saw you. Once I did, I decided you were the one.”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all that information.

“Are you angry?” she asked.

“Confused. You had me fooled. You seemed to know what you were doing.”

She smiled. “I’m very good at research.”

“Still, I should have noticed.”

“You had an incredibly beautiful woman in your bed. You were distracted.”

She was laughing as she spoke, as if making a joke, yet the words were completely true.

“It had been a while for me,” he admitted. “You were my first after I was held captive.”

Her humor faded. “I didn’t know that.”

“You and I didn’t talk much. Once I realized what you wanted, I wasn’t about to say no. I’d spent two years in that hole in the ground, then another year and a half in Bali.”

“There are very lovely women in Bali.”

“That may be true, but my teacher insisted celibacy was the road to healing.”

“Hence the trip to Thailand?”

“I wouldn’t have said ‘hence,’ but it was part of the reason I wanted to take a break.” He managed to take a drink of his beer. “I wasn’t expecting to find you.”

“You didn’t. I found you.”

A point he would happily concede. “Things didn’t end the way I wanted.”

“For me, either.”

He and Felicia had been lounging in bed when two guys had literally broken down the door. Gideon hadn’t known Justice at the time, but he’d recognized Ford. His buddy had shrugged in apology but hadn’t stayed to talk.

“I should have reacted faster,” Gideon said.

“It’s good that you didn’t. Then you and Justice would have gotten into a fight and someone would have gotten hurt.”

He liked to think it would have been the other guy but figured he would have taken the brunt of the attack. At that point he’d been out of the game for several years. He’d been in good shape but not honed like Justice. He doubted Ford would have taken sides, although he probably would have prevented them from killing each other. A cold comfort, he thought.

“Now you and I are here,” he said.

“Not a coincidence. You and Justice both know Ford. Justice met him when he was a teenager and lived here for a while.”

Gideon had heard the story. Justice had been in the witness protection program, which had relocated him to Fool’s Gold. A perfect place to hide, Gideon thought. No one would think to look for him in such an idyllic town.

All these years later, Justice had returned, fallen in love with Patience, a girl he’d cared about in high school. Talk about a sappy story. Yet it was a situation that Gideon found himself envying. Justice had found peace—something Gideon knew would always elude him. On the surface he looked like everyone else, but he knew what was inside. He knew that he couldn’t risk caring. Love made a man weak and ultimately killed him. Gideon couldn’t afford to take the risk.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Ford talked to you about Fool’s Gold and you came to check it out.”

He had, and he’d liked what he’d seen. The touristy town was big enough to have what he needed and small enough that he could exist on the fringes of belonging. He could be a part of things and yet separate.

“Are you going to take the job?” he asked.

“I want to.” Her voice had a quality of longing.

“You should. You’ll do well. It’s mostly logistics and you excel at getting things done.”

“You can’t know that,” she said.

He shrugged. “I asked Ford about you. That’s pretty much all he would tell me.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m not worried about the operation part of the job. It’s everything else. I’m not good with emotions. I’m too in my head.” She ducked her head. “I wish I was more like you. In the moment. You don’t seem like you need to think everything through. That’s nice.”

He wasn’t allowing himself to be in the moment right now, he thought grimly. If he did, he would already have her naked and moaning. He would have explored every inch of her body before settling with his mouth between her legs.

Blood surged at the image. He wanted to hear her breathing hitch as she got closer. He wanted to feel her tensing before she shattered, her mind nothing more than a hazy mess of pleasure.

“Gideon?”

He forced himself back to the present. “I could teach you some breathing techniques that might help.”

She laughed.

The sweet, happy sound filled the silence of the night. It was the kind of sound that could save a man, he realized. Or bring him to his knees.

The need grew and, with it, the understanding that he couldn’t take the risk.

“It’s late,” he told her.

“I’m aware of the time. The movement of the stars and the moon are a clear...” Her humor faded. “Oh, you’re asking me to leave.”

“You have a long drive back.”

She stood. “It’s three-point-seven miles, but that’s not the point. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thanks for talking to me. It helped.”

He felt as if he’d kicked a kitten. “Felicia, don’t read too much into this.” He rose. “Look. Like you said, it’s complicated.”

She looked into his eyes. “People say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”

The truth? Tension had returned and, with it, his arousal. Restlessness made him want to move, but he knew the value of staying still.

She put her hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingers to his biceps. “You’re very powerful. More muscled than Justice. His body type is leaner, and he has to work harder to bulk up. Your physiology allows you to add muscle more quickly. It’s...interesting.”

As was the warmth of her skin, he thought, watching her green eyes darken slightly as her features sharpened and her gaze intensified. The air seemed charged as energy flowed between them. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but he was starting to have a good idea.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded.

The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’m trying to flirt. Sorry. It’s harder than it looks. I guess it’s all the nuances.”

She swayed toward him. “Our previous encounter was very satisfying. There have been two other men, and it wasn’t the same. I suppose it’s one of those intangibles that can’t be measured. With you, I felt more comfortable. We laughed and talked in addition to making love. I remember that we ordered champagne and you—”

He knew exactly what he’d done with a mouthful of champagne. He remembered everything about their night together.

Unable to stop himself, he put his hands on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly, her head already slightly raised so he barely had to bend to kiss her.

* * *

YES, FELICIA THOUGHT, as Gideon’s mouth pressed against hers. She let her eyes sink closed as she lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers.

The kiss was gentler than she remembered. As if he were retracing steps. She let herself feel the heat radiating out from a central point low in her belly and get lost in the image of fire dancing across her skin.

She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He moved his hands from her waist to her back, then slid them up and down. She wanted to stretch and purr, she thought, her brain cataloging the various sensations of his kiss, his fingers, the heat where they touched, chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He stiffened and drew back a little.

While she wasn’t usually one for insights, she was acutely aware that he had yet to decide. That the kiss had been more reaction than plan and he was still in a place where he could say no. She didn’t know why he would refuse, but understood he still could.

She opened her eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his gaze filled with indecision.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.

She smiled. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

Four years ago she had pursued Gideon, she thought. Had picked him from all the other men in the bar that night. As she had said, there was something about him. His strength, of course. Nearly any female would respond well to a powerful man. That was merely biology. But there had been something else. An elusive sense of rightness, although if she did some research, she could probably figure out what it was.

Now the need to be with him was as strong, and for a similar reason, she realized. She was unsettled. Confused. There had been so many changes in her life, and the job offer had provided a tipping point of sorts. She needed to feel anchored and safe. How strange she would seek that in Gideon’s arms.

She didn’t have many gut instincts—another hazard of living in her head. But she had learned to trust them when they occurred, and right now her gut was telling her that she wanted to have sex with this man. Hot, hungry sex.

“I want this,” she murmured, still working through the questions.

She studied him, his broad shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. Her gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining against his jeans.

Anticipation joined satisfaction. There was no time to get her sweat glands working to tip the scales, so to speak. She would have to be more direct.

She quickly pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it onto the lounge chair beside her. Then she undid her bra and let it fall on top of her shirt.

Gideon’s jaw tightened, but otherwise, he didn’t move. She reached for his hands, took them in hers and placed them on her bare breasts.

Perhaps from instinct or perhaps because he couldn’t resist, he cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs against her nipples. She hadn’t felt them tighten, but when she glanced down she saw the tips were puckered.

He moved his thumbs again, and the gentle pressure sent pleasure moving all through her. His skin was more tanned against her paleness. His hands large. He moved back and forth against her until she felt her eyelids start to sink closed so she could get lost in how he made her feel.

She drew in a breath. “I’m enjoying everything you’re doing and—”

“Shut up.”

Her eyes popped open, and she saw him smiling.

“Too much conversation?”

“Yes. This is when it’s best to be quiet.”

Relief made her nearly as weak as his hands on her breasts.

“So we’re going to have sex?”

His answer was to haul her against him and thrust his tongue in her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, wanting every sensation possible, wanting, no, needing, to be intimate with this man. Vulnerable.

As soon as the thought occurred, she felt herself starting to analyze what it meant. She did her best to turn off her analytical brain and focus instead on the feel of his soft T-shirt under her fingers, of his broad shoulders.

He deepened the kiss, then broke free and stepped back. In a matter of seconds, he’d pulled off his shirt and flung it away. His boots and socks followed. As he reached for the belt on his jeans, she undid her own and pushed them, along with her bikini panties, to the deck.

Before she could even admire his nakedness, he was moving past her to one of the lounge chairs. He raised a bar in back, then released it. The chair collapsed into a flat position.

“How clever,” she began, only to find herself being half guided, half carried to the chair. She was placed on the end, in a seated position, then Gideon dropped to his knees.

He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her. His tongue stroked against her lips before dipping inside. She kissed him back, even as she moved her fingers up and down his arms and his back.

He dropped his hands to her breasts. As he began to trail kisses down her neck, he urged her to lie back.

She did as he requested, her body on the cushion, her knees bent, her feet on the wood floor of the deck. As his fingers teased her sensitive nipples, his mouth moved lower and lower, the ultimate destination quite obvious.

He’d done that to her before, she remembered. The other two men hadn’t, but Gideon had given her her first orgasm with his tongue. She shivered slightly as he kissed his way down her belly, pausing to lightly circle the inside of her belly button.

She moved her arms so she could use her fingers to part herself for him. He’d taught her that, as well, she thought, her breathing already increasing.

Her insides clenched as he got closer and closer. She was so swollen. Her clitoris would be completely engorged with blood and extremely sensitive.

He shifted his hands so his palms were flat on her breasts. He massaged her, distracting her for a second. She felt the warmth of his breath, then he flicked the tip of his tongue against her. Just once. She gasped as a jolt of involuntary movement caused her to jump. He chuckled, then did it again.

This time she was prepared and felt herself sinking into sensation. He explored all of her, easing his tongue all the way inside her before returning it to her clit. Once there, he settled into a steady, slow rhythm of back and forth and around, his hands keeping pace on her breasts.

The predictable movements allowed her to focus on what she was feeling instead of anticipating what should happen next. As more and more muscles tensed, as her nerve endings fired more quickly, she felt her brain starting to shut down. There was only the sensation. She, who lived in a world of thoughts and ideas, was reduced to simply feeling. It was glorious.

Back and forth, around and around, with each stroke of his tongue, her body began the steady climb to release. She pulsed her hips, an unconscious signal that she wanted more. She was aware of her breathing getting faster and faster. Of small moans.

He moved one of his hands, sliding it down her body before inserting a finger deep inside her and curving up. Scientists argued about the reality of the G-spot, she thought hazily, trying to part her legs more, to press down. Right now she was convinced it existed, and when he rubbed it like that she was—

Her orgasm caught her unawares. One second she was tense and ready and the next she was flying. She rode the waves of pleasure, calling out, gasping and begging, screaming maybe. She wasn’t sure. She shook and shuddered. One finger became two, and she pushed down, wanting him to fill her.

His tongue stayed steady, allowing her release to go on and on until there was nothing left. This was what it felt like to be boneless, she thought, barely able to open her eyes.

He straightened.

She half raised herself on her elbows and glanced at his large erection. She smiled as she reached for him, guiding him inside her.

He was large enough to stretch her as he pushed in. She wrapped her legs around his hips, reached her hands to his. He grabbed hers. Their fingers laced together. She tried to keep her eyes open, to watch him as he pumped in faster and faster, but she was unable to stay focused. Not with the need growing inside her. Not when she was drawing closer to the edge once again, straining and straining until they came together.


CHAPTER THREE

FELICIA ARRIVED FOR her morning meeting right on time. As she parked by the warehouse that was the new offices for CDS, she found herself unable to stop smiling.

She’d spent the night with Gideon. They’d slept in a tangle of arms and legs in his big bed, then awakened before dawn to make love again. She’d left around five and had driven back to her place to shower and prepare for her day.

Although it was simple biology, what she’d done sounded so illicit. She liked that. Usually she was the boring one. The predictable friend who was always around and rarely had plans. She didn’t have sex with men she hadn’t seen in years—certainly not outside. At night.

She had a job offer and the aftereffects of the hormone bath that went with a satisfying sexual experience. Right now life was very, very good. Still grinning foolishly, she collected her backpack and walked into the building.

What had once been one big open space had been partitioned into offices, classrooms, locker rooms and a large workout facility. The plumbing was taking the longest. In addition to the usual toilets and sinks, there were also showers, lockers and a dressing area. Segregated by gender. Angel had foolishly suggested they make the women’s locker room smaller, but Felicia had stared him down. Justice and Ford hadn’t bothered coming to his defense. Probably because they knew better.

Justice was already there, his large presence seeming to fill the room. He sat at a battered desk he’d picked up at a garage sale a few weeks ago. Their “real” office furniture was on order.

“Hey,” he said as she entered, not bothering to look up from his laptop. “Did you file the permits for the shooting range?”

“Yes.” Her tone indicated she really meant “Of course,” but why state the obvious? “I took them directly to the city officials myself. They’ll be processed by the fifteenth.”

There was a professional mission statement in the articles of incorporation, but at its heart, CDS was a bodyguard school. It would provide advanced training for those in the industry as well as refresher courses. Ford would be working with corporations who wanted a unique team-building facility, while Angel would be in charge of the actual training. Justice was going to run the place.

In addition, CDS would provide classes for the community. Self-defense mainly with a few gun safety lectures and some hands-on training.

Felicia had been offered any job she wanted with the company, but knew she needed something different. She was ready to be as close to normal as she could get. She wanted to be part of a community, to fall in love, get married and have kids. A common dream, she thought, but one that seemed especially difficult for her to accomplish.

The job Mayor Marsha had offered was a big step in that direction. If only Felicia was brave enough to accept it.

She pulled her own laptop from her backpack and walked over to the desk. She pulled up a second chair and sat opposite Justice. Once the machine booted, she logged on to the internet and began typing.

“The equipment Ford and Angel ordered for the obstacle course will be delivered by the end of the week. The cherry picker is coming next Monday to help with installation of the suspension bridge.”

Justice glanced at her, his eyes bright with excitement. “Can’t wait to try it.”

“It’s high, it’s a bridge, what’s the big deal?”

He grinned.

She knew he was really looking forward to having one of his friends on the bridge and trying to shake the other guy off. The three business partners looked all tough and burly but in their hearts, they were still boys who liked to play practical jokes.

At least they were smart about them, she thought. They were all keenly aware that each of them was trained to be a deadly killer. It would be easy for any situation to get out of hand and they made sure that didn’t happen.

The main door opened, and Angel and Ford walked in together. Wearing jeans and T-shirts, they should have looked like a couple of regular Joes. But they didn’t. After her years in the military, Felicia was an expert at spotting men with special training, and these two had all the characteristics.

There was a confidence in the way they walked. Anyone looking at them would know they could handle themselves, regardless of the situation. Ford was a couple of inches taller and maybe twenty pounds heavier. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and an easy laugh. On the surface, he was the most fun-loving of the group. But Felicia knew that was a facade. Underneath, he was as emotionally distant as any man who’d spent his career viewing life through a sniper rifle.

Angel might have gotten out of the military sooner than any of them, but he’d moved into the type of private security that was just as dangerous as black ops. He had pale gray eyes that had seen too much and an intriguing scar across his neck, as if someone had tried to cut his throat.

Felicia had started to ask him about it once, and he’d stared her down. As she wasn’t usually intimidated by the men she worked with, she considered that a testament to his mental powers. She knew Angel had been married before, and that his wife and son had been killed in a car accident. How sad to have everything and then lose it, she thought.

Justice, Ford and Angel would be the partners in the company. There would be several permanent employees, including her friend Consuelo, who was due to arrive shortly. Felicia knew the team wondered if they could fit into life in a small town, and they worried about blending in. She had only been in Fool’s Gold a couple of months, but she was pretty sure that in a test of wills, the town would win. Justice had already changed; it was just a matter of time until the others found themselves behaving in ways they would have sworn wasn’t possible.

There was little scientific data to back up her assertion, but she was willing to stake her reputation on her supposition all the same.

“Is my gym ready?” Angel asked. “I’ve been using the one in town, and there are too many people there.”

Felicia smiled. “You mean women, don’t you?”

Angel turned to her. “Look, dollface, you don’t know what it’s like.”

“It’s Eddie,” Ford said, snickering. “She came up to him yesterday and asked about his scar. Then she wanted to touch his biceps.”

Angel’s face took on a pained expression. “The woman is what? A hundred? What the hell was she doing in a gym?”

“Mostly checking out cute guys,” Felicia said cheerfully. “From what I hear, she and her friend Gladys do it all the time. I don’t think she’s much past her seventies, by the way. In case, you know, that makes a difference.”

Angel glared at her. Justice and Ford laughed.

Felicia grinned in return, pleased to have made a joke. “The gym equipment is coming this week,” she told him by way of a peace offering. “It will be installed and ready to go before the weekend.”

Ford pulled up a chair and sat by the desk. “Didn’t we say we were going to let people in town work out here if they wanted? Should we send Angel’s new friend an invite?”

Cool, gray eyes turned glacier. “You really want to take me on?” Angel asked.

“Any day, old man.”

Felicia glanced at Justice, who shook his head. This was familiar territory with Angel and Ford. They exchanged banter and insults, staged ridiculous competitions and generally drove each other crazy.

As Angel was probably forty or forty-one, the “old man” comment was simply part of their fun.

“Can we get on with the meeting?” Justice asked. “If you two can hold off on your playtime for a few minutes. Felicia, bring them up to date.”

They spent the next two hours talking about the business. Ford had a few leads on potential corporate clients, and Angel had some interesting ideas for team-building exercises. When the meeting finished, Ford and Angel went off to wrestle or race or something that required one to win and the other to lose. Felicia shut down her computer, then looked at Justice.

“I’ve seen Gideon.”

Justice studied her. “Okay.”

She thought about mentioning they’d had sex but didn’t think her friend wanted that level of detail. “I might continue to see him.” Hopefully with and without clothes, she thought. She wanted to get to know him better. Perhaps not the traditional sequence for a relationship, but she hadn’t found any traditional path that worked for her.

“I know you want to protect me,” she continued, “but you can’t. It’s important that I learn in my own way. Make my own mistakes and suffer the consequences.”

“As long as you’re admitting Gideon is a mistake.”

She sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. Look. I’ll admit I don’t like the guy very much.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know what he did to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I picked him up in a bar. I practically begged him to have sex with me, and he complied. He did nothing wrong.”

Justice winced. “Could we not talk about that part of it?”

“Why not? It’s the reason you’re upset. Justice, I was twenty-four. It’s not unexpected I would have sexual relations with someone by that age. I wasn’t irresponsible. You had no right to barge in back then, and you’re not invited to do the same now. I love you. You’re my family. But I’m twenty-eight years old and you don’t get to tell me what to do with my personal life.”

Justice opened his mouth, then closed it. “Fine.”

She waited.

“I mean it,” he grumbled. “I won’t say anything about Gideon. You can see him if you want.”

She resisted pointing out she’d just told him she didn’t want his opinion or involvement. “Thank you.”

“Just wait to have sex with him this time, okay? Get to know him a little.”

She did her best not to smile. “You’re probably right.”

“I am.”

* * *

LIKE MANY THINGS in Fool’s Gold, Jo’s Bar defied expectation. Instead of catering to men and their love of sports, Jo’s served mostly women. The lighting was flattering, the decor feminine and the large screens were tuned to shopping shows and reality TV. Men were welcome, as long as they retreated to the back room where there was a pool table and plenty of TVs showing sports. If they insisted on staying in the front of the house, they were expected to keep quiet about the signs counting down the days until the new season of Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders—Making the Team.

Felicia liked the bar. When she came here, it was to meet her friends. Because in the few months she’d been in town, she’d made friends. Women who didn’t seem to mind that she was socially awkward and often said the wrong thing.

She sat at a table with Isabel, Patience and Noelle. They’d already put in their orders and each had a soda or iced tea.

“I’m thinking Labor Day,” Noelle said, stirring her diet soda with her straw. She laughed. “A traditional Christmas holiday.”

Noelle planned to open a new store in town. The Christmas Attic would celebrate the season. Like Felicia, Noelle was new to Fool’s Gold. The tall, willowy blonde was friendly and funny, but there was something about her eyes. Felicia would guess secrets but had no idea what they were.

Isabel, also a blonde but a little curvier, had grown up in the area. She was back in town for a few months helping her family with Paper Moon—a wedding gown boutique. Isabel was irreverent and self-deprecating. She was the one who teased first and laughed the longest. Felicia secretly admired Isabel’s sense of style and easy grace.

Patience had made Felicia the most nervous at first. The pretty brunette was the single mother of a ten-year-old girl and engaged to Justice. When Felicia had first arrived, Patience thought there was more to her and Justice’s relationship than friendship, but their siblinglike connection had become apparent. Since then, Patience had welcomed Felicia to her world and had made her feel welcome.

“There will be lots of tourists,” Isabel was saying. “We fill up for all the major holidays, and Labor Day is when people want that last rush of summer. Which is why it’s called the End of Summer Festival. I think you’d get a big crowd in the store.”

Noelle sighed. “I hope you’re right. Maybe it’s too early for people to be thinking about Christmas.”

“I know what you mean,” Patience said. “I’m going to have to figure out when to start decorating for the various holidays. It’s not anything I had to worry about before.”

Felicia often helped Patience out at Brew-haha, picking up a shift a few times a week. The work wasn’t very challenging, but she enjoyed the chance to work on her people skills in a low-key setting. She was also able to eavesdrop on people’s conversations and try to learn from them.

“I think the abundance of tourists would outweigh any concern that you’re asking them to think about Christmas too early,” Felicia told Noelle.

“She has a point,” Isabel said. “The day after Labor Day is the traditional start of the fall season. And then comes Santa.”

“You’re right.” Noelle nodded slowly. “If I can pull it all together by then, I’ll open over Labor Day.”

Patience leaned toward Isabel. “Justice and I are talking dates. How long do I need to order a wedding dress?”

Isabel grinned. “I can’t wait for you to come in and try on dresses. As for timing, it depends on the manufacturer.”

“I want something simple. It’s a second marriage for me.”

Felicia didn’t know the details of Patience’s past, but she’d heard that her ex had disappeared shortly after Lillie had been born and he’d never come back.

“It’s a first marriage for Justice,” Isabel reminded her. “He’ll want you to be a princess. You are perfect princess material. There are some great dresses you’ll love.”

Patience blushed. “Maybe. We’ll see. I’ll come in and try a few things on this week.” She waved her hand. “Okay, enough about me. Someone else talk, please. One of you must have news.”

Felicia thought about her job offer, then hesitated. She wanted to accept, but still wasn’t sure she was the right person.

“Wow, I saw that,” Isabel said, staring at her. “Okay, you have to tell us.”

“I’m not sure I...” Felicia hesitated, then decided to plunge ahead. “Pia Moreno is going to step down from her position running the festivals. Mayor Marsha asked me to take her place.”

All three women stared at her.

“That’s great,” Patience said. “You’ll be perfect for the job. It’s all about staying organized, and you’re really good at that.”

Isabel nodded. “I don’t know how Pia managed with three kids, and now she’s pregnant with her fourth. The town is lucky she lasted as long as she did.”

Noelle patted Felicia’s arm. “I know nothing about the festivals, but I can’t imagine you not being brilliant at anything, so well done you.”

“Thanks.” Felicia hated the insecurity welling up inside her. “I wasn’t sure what people would think. I’m new in town. Maybe someone who has been here longer would understand the nuances of what goes on better.”

Patience shook her head. “No, no and no. Noelle’s right. You’ll be great. As for being new, I’m sorry, but you’re already one of us.” She sighed heavily. “I suppose this means you won’t be filling in at Brew-haha anymore.”

“I don’t think I’ll have the time.”

“Don’t worry. I need to hire more full-time people. I’m blessed with many customers.” She raised her glass. “To festivals and whipping them into shape.”

Everyone drank.

Isabel leaned toward her. “Okay, so what’s the scoop on some fighter chick coming to town? I’ve been hearing rumors that we’re getting our own girl soldier. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Felicia said. “Consuelo Ly should be arriving in the next couple of weeks. I haven’t heard from her recently, so I don’t have an exact date. She’ll be teaching classes at CDS. Self-defense, hand-to-hand, some advanced weapons training.”

“Seriously?” Noelle asked. “I can’t decide if I’m excited to meet her or terrified.”

“I’m excited,” Isabel said. “Have you seen how Ford and Angel walk around town like they’re so hot and we should all be falling all over them?”

“They haven’t been like that,” Patience said.

“Ford struts. I’ve seen him strut.”

Patience’s expression turned knowing. “Someone is worried about her past.”

“I’m not,” Isabel said firmly. “I refuse to be. I was a child and he can’t hold that against me.”

From what Felicia had heard, years ago Isabel had had a crush on Ford and been devastated by his departure. There were also rumors that Isabel had written to him regularly, but Felicia wasn’t sure about that.

“I don’t think Consuelo is interested in Ford,” Felicia said. “Or Angel. She’s known both of them for years. She says they’re not her type.”

“Too bad,” Patience said. “I’m so into this being in love thing. I need one of you to join me. I want to be able to talk about how wonderful Justice is and how my heart beats faster when he walks in the room.”

“You can talk about it all you want,” Noelle told her.

“It’s not the same.” Patience glanced at each of them. “I want one of you to fall in love. I mean it.”

“I’m leaving town in March,” Isabel said. “This is a bad time for a relationship. I refuse to fall for some guy and then have to decide between him and my career. It’s not going to happen.”

Noelle shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m getting over a bad breakup.”

Patience pressed her lips together. “You’re sure you don’t find Ford or Angel attractive?”

“They’re very sexy, but not my type.”

Patience turned to Felicia. “What about you? You like both Ford and Angel.”

“Kind of how I like Justice,” she said. “Biologically speaking, humans aren’t generally attracted to family members. It keeps the gene pool healthier if we’re not.”

“I’m very disappointed,” Patience told them. “You’re all letting me down.”

Felicia knew her friend was just kidding, but she still felt guilty. An odd phenomenon and not one she was comfortable with.

“I slept with Gideon,” she blurted, unable to stop the words.

All three of them turned to stare at her.

Isabel raised her eyebrows. “It’s always the quiet types. Have you noticed that?”

“Gideon?” Noelle asked. “Radio Gideon of the dreamy voice? OMG, I love listening to him.”

Patience stared at Noelle. “You didn’t just say OMG.”

Noelle laughed. “Sorry. I love to read teen fiction. It’s a flaw, but one I can live with.”

Isabel leaned toward the center of the table. “Patience, honey? You’re missing the point. Felicia had sex with the mysterious Gideon.”

Patience turned to Felicia. “How did that happen?”

“In the usual way. We were outside on his deck and...” Felicia stopped and cleared her throat. The three of them were staring at her with identical expressions of confusion.

“You mean you’re curious about the order of events that led up to our encounter. Not where and in what position.”

Isabel leaned back in her chair. “You know, I’m going to have to think about that. No one has ever given me a choice like that before.”

Noelle patted Felicia’s arm. “You’re one of my favorite people, you know that?”

“Because I’m a freak?”

“You’re not a freak. You’re honest. There aren’t enough honest people in the world. How do you know Gideon? You must know him because I can’t see you jumping into bed with a perfect stranger.”

A lovely assessment of her character, Felicia thought, however false. Because that’s exactly what she’d done. Twice.

“We met four years ago, in Thailand. It was a brief, um, encounter. When I got here, I heard him on the radio and realized it was the same man. I didn’t know what to think or do, so I’ve been avoiding him for the past couple of months.”

A plan that had been going really well, until spiders had worked their arachnid mojo and changed everything. Although she couldn’t really say she objected to the ultimate outcome.

“I wanted to talk to someone about the job offer,” she continued. “So last night I drove to his house to speak with him.”

“You drove to his house?” Patience repeated. “Just like that? You’re so brave. I wish I was like that. Direct and fearless. I overthink everything.”

Felicia thought about explaining why she’d picked Gideon, then stopped herself. It was possible her friends wouldn’t understand her reticence in speaking with them about the job.

“What’s his house like?” Noelle asked. “Is it fabulous? I bet it’s fabulous.”

“The part I saw was nice.”

“They did it on the deck,” Isabel said, reaching for her drink. “I’m guessing there wasn’t a tour.”

“Oh, right. The deck. That’s pretty hot.” Noelle smiled. “You two make a cute couple. Ooh, I wonder if he’s going to dedicate a song to you tonight. I’ll have to listen.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Felicia said, knowing now she, too, would have to listen. Just in case.

Is that something a man would do after a night with a woman? She wasn’t clear on what normal people did in relationships. She might have slept with Gideon, but he was still a mystery to her. She’d had sex, but never love. A physical encounter but not a boyfriend. She hadn’t ever even been on a traditional date.

How was she supposed to find a man and fall in love when she couldn’t even get asked out on a date?

* * *

“GOOD EVENING, FOOL’S GOLD,” Gideon said into the microphone. “I’d like to start tonight with a favorite, for a friend of mine.” He pushed the button, and the Beatles’ “I Saw Her Standing There” began to play. He thought about mentioning the spiders but knew that would lead to questions, and he enjoyed his nights without the phone ringing to interrupt.

The red light on the wall flashed.

So much for a quiet night. Gideon walked to the front door. For a second he wondered if Felicia had come by, then decided if she wanted to see him again, she would be waiting at his house, not interrupting his work.

He opened the back door and found Angel standing on the steps, a six-pack in his hands.

“Hey,” he said, motioning for his friend to follow him back to his desk. “Tell me you’re not looking for a place to crash. Ford already claimed the back room here.”

They walked into the control room. “I’m good,” Angel said. “And you’ll be free of Ford soon, too. We’re renting a house with Consuelo. It’s furnished. We’ll have the keys in a couple of days.”

He passed over a beer.

Gideon took it and popped the top. “You’re going to live with Ford?”

“You sound surprised.”

“You’ll kill each other.”

Ford and Angel had always been competitive. They would bet on anything and liked to create elaborate challenges with ridiculous payoffs.

“We’ll be fine,” Angel said. “Consuelo will keep us in line.”

“Or smother you with a pillow if you get to be too much trouble.”

He’d only met the feisty brunette a few times. She was small but muscular, and she fought dirty. He’d watched her take down a trained fighter twice her size and not break a sweat.

He pushed another button to start the next CD.

“Besides,” Angel said, waving his can. “I always win.”

“You don’t always win. You win more than half the time, which is the problem. Ford gets defensive, you get cocky. It’s not a good scenario. It’s like when the two Terminators fight. They both walk away and the town is left in ruins.”

Angel grinned. “I like the Terminator movies. I see myself as a T-1000.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “I see you as the old beat-up Schwarzenegger.”

“Hey.”

“I’m just saying. You’re over forty, my friend.”

“It beats being dead.”

Gideon raised his can. “I will drink to that. How’s the business coming?”

“Good.” Angel looked around the studio. “You should join us. Get out of here.”

“I like it here.”

“You have to miss the work.”

Gideon knew what he meant. That it was difficult for some guys to walk away. They craved the excitement or the constant travel. Without danger, they couldn’t relax. One of those counterintuitive truths he was sure Felicia could explain.

“I’m happy being like everyone else,” he said.

He couldn’t go back. Couldn’t pick up a gun and kill again. There wasn’t enough left inside. The damage was permanent and his pretense at normal tissue-thin. He wanted a sameness to his days. He wanted ordinary.

“We’ve got plenty of work,” Angel said. “Ford’s been selling the hell out of the company, and we’re getting corporations signing up. I’ve been talking to the big security companies, and they want us to do their training. Easier and cheaper for them. We could use the help.”

“No, thanks.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Angel insisted.

“I won’t. Just like you won’t go back into the field.”

Angel’s mouth twisted. “I’ve seen enough death to last me a lifetime.”

And he’d come close to losing it all, Gideon thought, his gaze drifting to his buddy’s scar. The one on his neck. He only knew pieces of that story, but he was sure Angel’s life had been spared by mere seconds.

Gideon’s decision to walk away had come over time. He’d had nearly two years of being held captive and tortured to think about what he would do if he ever got out. The problem was being physically released hadn’t changed the fact that his head was still in their control. He’d felt trapped. Recovering from that was harder. He doubted the nightmares would ever disappear.

“I heard a rumor that you’d bought two stations,” Angel said.

“The rumors are true. AM and FM. Plenty of talk and local news on the AM station and music on FM. At night, it’s all oldies, all the time.”

Angel raised his head, listening to the music. “What is this stuff? It’s what? A hundred years old.”

“Very funny. My show is all ’60s. 1960s for those of you who have trouble with math.”

“Try something from this century.”

“No, thanks. I was born about forty years too late.” He thought about Felicia. “For the music, anyway.”

Angel shook his head. “You’re a strange one, bro.”

“Tell me about it.”


CHAPTER FOUR

FELICIA SWIRLED THE milk to form a stylized leaf at the top of the coffee, then passed the large mug to the customer.

“Have a good day,” she said with a smile.

The woman, a tourist with her husband, glanced at the design. “Oh, that’s so lovely. I almost don’t want to drink it.”

The leaves were very popular, as were hearts. Felicia had tried to get people excited about the symbol for pi or a couple of constellations, but no one had been interested and she’d gone back to the simpler designs.

This was her final shift at Brew-haha. She’d been working part-time to help out Patience and to give herself something to do. Getting the bodyguard school up and running wasn’t very time-consuming. The business programs were easily mastered, and it wasn’t as if the guys needed her to do any of the physical stuff like stocking shelves or moving furniture.

Her new job would demand more of her time, and she was looking forward to that. She’d spoken with the mayor the day before, officially accepting the position with the city. She’d filled out piles of paperwork and had thought about explaining how they could streamline the hiring process. In the end, she’d decided not to frighten anyone too soon. She could talk to the human resources department in a few weeks. When she wasn’t the new girl.

The store was quiet, with only a few customers sitting at tables. Felicia took advantage of the lull and washed out the milk carafes and spoons. The front door opened, and she turned to see Charlie Dixon walking in.

Charlie was one of the town’s firefighters. She was tall and physically strong, with a practical and pragmatic approach to life. Felicia enjoyed her company and always looked forward to their visits.

“Your usual?” Felicia asked.

Charlie nodded. She drank a large latte, to go. No fat-free milk for her, no flavors. Nothing with frills, Felicia thought, smiling as she pressed the button to grind the right amount of beans.

“I wanted to let you know I got a note from Helen,” Charlie said. “The woman whose husband was abusing her.”

“Right.” The couple had come into Brew-haha shortly after Felicia had arrived in town. The man had been horrible, and Felicia had reacted. She’d physically restrained him and then had dislocated his shoulder.

She’d put it back in place, but the pain had distracted him long enough for Charlie and the mayor to get Helen away.

“How is she?” Felicia asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. So many women were unable to break the cycle and truly end the relationship with their abuser.

“She did what she said. She left the bastard and is starting over in another state under a new name. She’s already registered for classes at her local community college.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me, too. She wanted you to know that you inspired her.”

Felicia poured the steamed milk into the to-go cup and passed it over. “That’s nice. Thank you. I don’t usually inspire anyone.”

Charlie passed over a brightly colored card. “Here. It’s an invitation to a party.” The firefighter shrugged. “We’re having a luau at the new hotel.”

The Lady Luck Casino and Hotel being built on the edge of town was due to open next week. That morning the mayor had mentioned how the business was working to support town events, and the hotel-casino would be mentioned in advertising around the state.

“Thank you,” Felicia said, glancing at the information printed over the picture of a beach with a palm tree. “Should I dress in costume?”

“Not necessary. It will be casual.” She sighed. “Clay and I still can’t agree on the wedding. I want to elope, he wants the big church wedding. Crazy man. We’re getting a lot of pressure from people in town who want us to decide. We’re thinking a big party will calm everyone down.”

“It’s very generous of you to have a large event,” Felicia said, “but I don’t think it will solve the problem. It’s not the party your friends want, but the ritual. A wedding is a statement to your social group that you’ve moved into another stage of your lives. Years ago, changing from single to married often meant different responsibilities in the—”

Felicia stopped talking. “Sorry. You probably weren’t looking for a dissertation on marriage.”

“It was interesting,” Charlie told her.

Felicia wished that were true. “I’m sure the party will be a lot of fun.”

“I hope so. Oh, you can bring a date.” Charlie grinned. “That was an offer, not an instruction. You don’t have to if you’d rather not. There will be plenty of food and good company either way. Just show up and I’ll be happy.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Another woman walked into Brew-haha and hurried over to Charlie. “Stop hiding from me!” she said loudly. “I swear, Charlie, you’re making this we—” She came to a stop and smiled at Felicia. “Hi. I’m Dellina, Charlie’s party planner.”

Felicia smiled back at the pretty blonde. “She just mentioned the luau. It sounds like it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“It is,” Dellina said, glaring at Charlie. “If certain people will ever make decisions.”

Charlie grumbled something under her breath. “Fine. I’ll decide on the stupid flowers.” She glanced at Felicia. “Ignore my complaints. The party will be great.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Charlie grabbed her latte and left with Dellina.

Felicia fingered the invitation. She wanted to go to the luau, but wasn’t sure what to do about the date issue. The only man she would ask was Gideon, but she wasn’t sure how he would feel about both the asking and the event itself. They’d had sex, but she knew that was different than a relationship. Women might bond during intercourse, but often a man was simply getting laid. Unless he was in a relationship, then the experience might be emotionally significant for him, too.

It was all so confusing, she thought, as an older couple walked into the store.

“Hello,” she said with a practiced smile. “How can I help you?”

They placed their order and she went to work.

Considering all the variables, it was somewhat surprising that men and women ever got together in the first place. A testament to tenacity, or a higher power with a wicked sense of humor? To be honest, she wasn’t sure which.

* * *

GIDEON WALKED DOWN the sidewalk, aware he was going to have to make a decision. Go get a cup of coffee or not.

On the surface, the choice wasn’t life-changing. Or even notable. But he knew that his interest in entering Brew-haha had a whole lot more to do with the woman behind the counter than any beverage offered on the marquee.

He’d had sex with Felicia. More startling, when they’d finished, he hadn’t asked her to leave. They’d dressed, started talking, and then before he had known what he was doing, he was asking her to stay.

In his house.

He rarely had anyone over, didn’t like visitors or surprises or change. Sure, the sex had been great, but why hadn’t he encouraged her to leave? And what was he doing walking into Brew-haha today?

He held the door open for a couple of older tourists, then stepped inside. Felicia was behind the counter, her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her curvy body covered with a cheerful apron sporting the coffee shop’s logo.

She didn’t notice him right away, giving him a chance to study her. Her green eyes were wide and filled with amusement. She was smiling. Sunlight filtered in through the sparkling windows, illuminating her face.

She was beautiful—the result of a horrible car accident in her late teens and subsequent plastic surgery. After their night together in Thailand, he’d made it his business to find out who she was. It had taken two months, but he’d finally tracked her down. He’d seen the picture of her before the surgery, and while she was more conventionally attractive now, she’d been just as appealing back then. He’d thought about going to see her. Only, he’d known better.

Despite his studies, despite the meditation and Tai Chi, the long runs and the superficial calm, he wasn’t like everyone else. He was broken in so many places, he would never be whole. That which wasn’t broken was missing. He’d known better than to inflict himself on her.

Now he’d found her again, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what to do about her.

He walked to the counter and stood in line. He wasn’t looking directly at her, but he was aware of the exact moment she noticed him. Her body stiffened in surprise, then relaxed.

He placed his order with the teenager manning the cash register, then walked over to where Felicia was handing a latte to another customer.

“Gideon.” She reached for a to-go cup and smiled at him. “A latte? Really?”

He shrugged. “See me as more of a drip guy?”

“Yes.”

“I like to change things up every now and then.”

“I get that.”

She worked efficiently, pouring the shots of espresso into the cup, then starting to steam the milk.

“Did you make your decision?” he asked.

She nodded. “I took the job.”

“Good. You’ll like it.”

“I hope I meet expectations. This town values tradition and connection.”

Two things she wouldn’t have a lot of experience with, he thought. But she was trying. He admired that about her. Most people ran from what was difficult. Not Felicia. She threw herself in, headfirst.

“You’ll handle the logistics easily and figure out the rest of it as you go.” He smiled. “Just like everyone else.”

Instead of smiling back, she bit her lower lip. “I do want to be considered normal.” She glanced around, as if checking to see who was close to them, then lowered her voice. “I should probably warn you, I mentioned our encounter to a few friends. I didn’t mean to—it just sort of happened.”

He leaned against the counter. “One of them was Patience.”

She nodded. “There’s an excellent chance she’ll tell Justice.”

“You worried about me? I think I can take him.”

She handed him the latte. “You’re bigger and stronger, but he’s still in the protection business, which means his training is more recent. I would prefer if the two of you didn’t fight.”

She was so damned earnest, he thought. “I’ll do my best to honor your request.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Why did you tell your friends about us?”

She bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure. We were talking, and it just came out. For what it’s worth, they were very impressed. The women in town enjoy the sound of your voice. You’ve also cultivated an air of mystery that’s appealing. It probably goes back to the time of marauders, when women were physically kidnapped by neighboring tribes. Being taken by a handsome stranger is a primal female fantasy.”

He sipped his latte. “Is it?”

She nodded. “Culturally, we tell stories to bond or learn lessons. In this case the handsome stranger is kind, thereby ensuring our safety and the future of our unborn children.” She paused. “Not that you have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy. I’m on birth control.”

He nearly choked. “Thanks for telling me that.” Because he hadn’t been thinking about protection or anything but the feel of her body and how much he wanted to be inside her.

He swore silently. He knew better. Had known since he was a teenager and his father had given him “the talk.” How had she rattled him so much he’d forgotten?

“I wonder if Patience and Justice will have children.” Her voice was wistful. “That would be nice.”

He fought the need to back away. “You looking for a white picket fence?”

“If you mean I want what it represents, then, yes. In reality, I’ve never found that kind of fencing to be efficient. The upkeep alone would be daunting.”

Okay—he didn’t know how she did it. One second he wanted to run, and the next he wanted to pull her close and kiss her senseless. She could look him in the eye and tell him the specifics of her sexual interest and yet be nervous about taking a job because of her emotional connection to the town.

“You didn’t come here for coffee,” she said.

“I didn’t?”

She shook her head. “You’re checking on me. You want to know if I’m okay, which is very sweet considering I’m the one who initiated our sexual encounter.”

“Are you?”

“I’m fine. The physical intimacy was better than I remembered, which is extraordinary. I have an excellent memory. I don’t want you to worry. I don’t feel that I’ve bonded with you as a result of my orgasms, but if it starts to happen, I’ll handle it myself.”

Which should have made her the perfect woman, he thought. But all he could think was that she’d spent so much of her life by herself. Separate from everyone else—never quite fitting in. She must have been lonely.

Emotion stirred inside him. The need to protect. He knew the danger of getting involved and vowed that he wouldn’t, but damn, she was something.

She smiled. “It seems unfair to only discuss my emotions. Are you okay with what happened between us?”

“I’m feeling a little used, but I’ll deal.” He cocked his head. “You show up at my place in the middle of the night and demand sex. What’s a guy to think?”

She laughed. “I think you can handle the pressure.”

He was about to ask when she wanted to pressure him again, but stopped himself. He wasn’t the picket fence kind of guy. Maybe he had been once, but that part of his soul had long since turned to dust.

She reached for something on the counter and picked up a small brightly colored card. “Do you want to—”

The smile faded, and uncertainty filled her big, green eyes.

The battle was clearly visible. Her shoulders drew back as she steeled herself to continue what she’d been about to say.

“My friend Charlie and her fiancé are having a party in a couple of weeks. At the new casino and hotel. It’ll be open by then. She said I could bring a date.” Felicia paused. “I’ve never been on a date before. I’d like to know what it’s like, if you’d like to go with me.”

He would rather she’d shot him. Or immobilized him with a Taser. Or cut out his heart.

No. His answer was no. He didn’t date, didn’t get involved, didn’t...

The card shook slightly in her pale fingers. The woman who had calmly removed her shirt and bra and put his hands on her breasts only a few days ago had never been asked out by a guy? How was he supposed to ignore that? Ignore her? How was he supposed to squash her hopes and dreams?

“I’m not that guy,” he told her. “The forever guy.”

“I assume you’re referring to marriage and not immortality.”

“I am.”

One corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “It’s a party, Gideon, not an eternal commitment.”

“Yeah, I know. Sure. I’ll go.”

Relief joined amusement. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

“Me, too.” Which was actually kind of true. He started for the door, then turned back. “Felicia?”

“Yes?”

“Just so you’re clear, it’s a date.”

* * *

“THE NEW OFFICE space is available,” Pia said. “It has been for a while now. I feel kind of guilty for not taking advantage of it, but there was no way I could take on the task of moving, along with everything else.” She motioned to the tiny office, overflowing with filing cabinets and boxes of promotional material. “It’s a mess.”

Felicia glanced around. “You’ve clearly outgrown your space.”

Pia sighed. “Clearly. I feel like such a slacker. I used to be able to stay on top of things.”

“Before you had a husband and three kids?”

Pia nodded. “But other women work with families.”

Felicia had never understood why women took on guilt when they were overwhelmed, but she recognized the symptoms. “Pia, from what I’ve heard, you went from being a single working woman to married with three kids in less than a year. Two of the children were twins.”

And not even biologically hers. When a close friend of Pia’s had died, leaving her custody of embryos, Pia had had the tiny babies implanted. Then she’d fallen in love with Raoul Moreno. Before the twins had even been born, they’d adopted ten-year-old Peter.

“Your expectations are unrealistic,” Felicia continued. “In less than two years, everything about your life changed completely. Yet you’ve carried on with the festivals and created a successful family unit. You should be proud of yourself.”

Tears filled Pia’s eyes. “That’s so nice,” she said, sniffing. “Thank you.” She waved her hands in front of her eyes. “Sorry for the breakdown. I’m hormonal.”

Felicia would guess she was also physically and mentally exhausted. “I hope I can do as good a job as you,” she said, wondering if it was possible.

“You’ll do better,” Pia told her. “I suppose the good news is you can set up the next office however you like it.” She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. “The address and the key. Seriously, it’s just sitting there. The landlord said to let him know when I was ready and he’d paint the place. I guess I should call.”

“I’ll do it,” Felicia told her. “From now on, you tell me what needs to be done and I’ll take care of it.”

Pia sighed. “Can you do that for me at home, too? It sounds wonderful.”

“I think you’d find me too detail-oriented.”

Pia grinned. “Is that possible? I’m not sure it is.” She glanced at her desk. “Okay, let’s do this. Brace yourself and I’ll begin the info dump.”

She turned and pointed to the dry erase board dominating the largest wall. “That is the master calendar. It’s in computer form, too, but I find this is easier to work with. I can physically see everything happening.”

She went over to the file cabinets. “Starting at this end we have information on previous festivals. Next is vendor info. There’s a whole section on vendor disasters. You’ll want to cross-check that info whenever we have a new application. Permits are in the third cabinet.”

Felicia had been taking notes on her laptop. She glanced up. “Permits are done on paper? By hand?”

Pia winced. “We have a process for filing online, but I never really got into it. We tend to have the same people coming year after year, so I just make a note that the information is the same and let it go. Are you judging me?”

“Of course not,” Felicia said automatically, even as she started a “to do” list. Right under notifying the new landlord was starting a vendor database.

“I want to believe you,” Pia murmured. “Okay, festivals.” She returned to the dry erase board. “We have at least one every month. Most months have two, and December has a million. From mid-November through the Live Nativity, it’s crazy. Fortunately, this office isn’t responsible for the Dance of the Winter King, which is Christmas Eve, so once the animals are back home after the Live Nativity, you’re done for the year.”

Pia grinned. “Of course it starts up again in January with Cabin Fever Days.”

She stood and walked to the small bookcase by the front door. “Notebooks,” she said, pointing at the thick binders. “One for every festival. What it’s about, how long it takes, is it the kind of event that generates heads in beds?”

Felicia looked at her. “Heads in beds? Nights in a hotel?”

“Right. The longer tourists stay in town, the more money they spend. In addition to meeting monthly with the city council, you meet quarterly with the hotel, motel and B&B owners. They’ll want to know any changes to upcoming festivals. They’re also a good source of advertising. The festivals are mentioned in their printed materials and on their websites.”

Pia returned to her seat and began to explain the logistics involved. There were more notebooks and a very large, slightly tattered Rolodex filled with names and phone numbers.

She flipped through it. “You’ll probably want this in a database, huh?”

“It will be easier,” Felicia said.

“We have one. A database. It’s supposed to be great. I never actually learned how to use it.” She sighed. “There are also checklists of what needs to be ordered and how far in advance. Porta-Potties are now on a yearly contract, which is much easier, let me tell you. But there are things like decorating and—” Pia shook her head. “You have to get on the city schedule for things like decorating and the move. Which is another problem. They’re really busy in the summer. I know there’s not that much to move, but still, it could be a while. I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”

Felicia glanced at the file cabinets and the small desk. “Do I have to use city maintenance? Can I bring in my own moving crew?”

“Do you have one?”

Felicia grinned. “I know a couple of guys capable of heavy lifting.”

“Right. The bodyguards. Sure, use them if they’ll do it. Just don’t tell the city. They’ll be worried about injuries and insurance.”

“The guys will be happy to do it,” she said confidently. Justice and Ford both owed her, and she had a feeling Angel could be easily manipulated into helping. She would only have to suggest that Ford could lift more than him and he would be all in. While men were traditionally viewed as the stronger of the two sexes, they were often emotionally delicate.

* * *

GIDEON RECOGNIZED THE cell immediately. It was maybe ten by twenty. Stone, with a barred window up high and a big wooden door too thick to break down. Not that he could. He was kept chained.

The floor was dirt. The only bathroom was a bucket that was emptied every few days. Gideon sat with his back against the wall, dripping sweat as the temperature climbed to what had to be a hundred and twenty degrees.

“Gideon, please.”

He ignored the words, the plea. Dan had been asking for days. No. Not asking. Begging.

“I can’t hold on,” his friend said, his voice nearly a sob. “They’re threatening my family. I can’t stand it. The torture. All of it. I’m going to break.”

Dan, once a tall, proud soldier, lay curled up against the wall. He was bloodied and nursing a broken arm. Gideon had tried to set it but didn’t think he’d done a good enough job.

After sixteen months and twenty-two days of captivity, Dan was the last one left. The others had either died of their wounds or provoked their captors enough to be killed.

“Maddie,” Dan moaned. “Maddie.”

Maddie was his wife. There weren’t any kids. Dan had said they were going to start trying when they got home. He talked about her all the time, claimed her love sustained him, but Gideon knew he was wrong. Dan’s love kept him anchored in this place. His love made it impossible for him to go so deep in his head that they couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Gideon glanced toward the window and saw the sun was near its zenith. That meant they’d come for him soon.

Later, he felt the blows as he was hit over and over again, felt himself vomit, although there was nothing in his stomach. Gideon wrestled with his captors, but it only made it worse. When they were finally done, they started to drag him down the hall back to his cell. He felt the dirt in his wounds, the dry dust in his mouth mingling with the copper taste of his blood.

Then the door swung open, and he couldn’t look away. Not from the sight of Dan slumped over, the chain restraining him wrapped around his neck.

The guards tossed Gideon aside and raced to Dan, but it was too late. Gideon had refused to kill him, so he’d killed himself. Gideon lay on the dirt, wondering if his friend had been desperately weak or incredibly strong.

And then, as quietly as it had appeared, the cell was gone and he was awake. Awake and drenched in sweat.

He knew the folly of trying to sleep again, so he rose and ripped off his T-shirt, then walked out onto the deck. The night air chilled him, but he didn’t care. Then he sat cross-legged on the deck, closed his eyes and began to breathe.


CHAPTER FIVE

CONSUELO LY STARED at the single-story ranch-style house, half expecting to blink and find it gone. Or maybe see unicorns grazing on the lawn. Because as far as she was concerned, the suburbs and unicorns were equally unrealistic.

She’d heard about both, of course. TV sitcoms enjoyed mocking the suburbs, and she loved Modern Family as much as the next person. But living in them? Not her. She had always assumed she would end her days in a hail of bullets. Or, in her less dramatic, more realistic moments, with her neck broken, her body dumped on the side of some road. But here she was, staring at a ranch-style house. Updated, she thought, taking in the new roof and big windows, but still originally constructed in the 1960s.

She parked in the driveway next to Ford’s god-awful Jeep. It wasn’t the vehicle she objected to as much as the aftermarket two-tone black-and-gold paint job. Jeeps were hardworking machines and deserved more respect. Next to the Jeep was a Harley, which meant Angel was also here.

Sure enough, she’d barely gotten out of her car when the front door opened and the two men stepped out. They were big and tall, both towering over her five feet two inches. Not that they intimidated her in the least. She could take either one in a fair fight, and if they wanted to play dirty, she could geld them in ten seconds. Fortunately for her, they both knew and respected her skill set.

“Ladies,” she said as they approached.

Ford got to her first. “Consuelo!”

He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him. It was like hugging a warm, muscled wall. Before she could catch her breath, he passed her over to Angel who did exactly the same thing.

“Chica,” he murmured in her ear. “Still looking good.”

She pushed away from him and rolled her eyes. “You’re both flabby,” she complained. “We’re going to have to start real workouts in the morning.”

Ford’s expression turned wounded. “I’m not,” he said, pulling up his T-shirt to expose a perfect six-pack. “Go on. Hit me.”

“You wish.”

She walked to her trunk and opened it, then pulled out two duffels. The guys hovered, obviously unsure if they should help or not. She liked the slight edge of fear in their eyes. She preferred any situation where she was in charge.

“Here,” she said, handing over her duffels. “How long have you been in the house?”

“Got the keys this morning,” Ford said. “We were thinking of going to the store. For beer and maybe food. We were talking about ordering a pizza for tonight.”

“One of you should start cooking,” she said, leading the way into the house. She held in a snicker, knowing neither of them would have the balls to suggest she should be preparing meals. She might be female, but no one would accuse her of being domesticated.

She walked through the open front door and found herself in a large living room. The furniture was oversize but looked comfortable. Black leather sofa with a couple of chairs and a low coffee table. She could see the dining room beyond and a doorway leading to what she assumed was the kitchen.

She turned the other way, heading down the hallway toward the bedrooms. There was a hall bath, two average-size bedrooms. At the far end, one of a set of double doors stood open.

“The master?” she asked, even as she headed toward it.

“We, ah, weren’t sure who would, ah...” Ford verbally stumbled to a stop.

Consuelo stepped inside. There was a king-size bed, a long dresser and a desk. The attached bath was small but had everything she needed. The closet was more than adequate.

She saw the duffels by the bed and raised her eyebrows.

Ford and Angel exchanged a look and quickly put her luggage on the bed, then carried theirs out. Low conversation carried back to her. She only caught an occasional word—something like “No, you tell her,” and she smiled. It was good to be the meanest, baddest bitch in the house.

Thirty minutes later Consuelo had showered and dressed in jeans and a tank top. She brushed out her thick brown hair, thinking she should never have allowed herself to be talked into a layered cut. Her hair had a natural wave that took over if she didn’t keep her hair well past her shoulders. Now she wrestled the unruly strands into a ponytail. She slipped her feet into sandals and tucked her wallet and cell phone into her jeans pockets. She left the master and headed to the front of the house.

Ford and Angel were in the kitchen. A table stood by a window, and there were bar stools pulled up to the granite counter. Stainless steel appliances gleamed against dark cabinets. The guys each had a beer.

For a second, she felt the separation between them and her. Not just because she was female, but because at the end of the day they were warriors and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see herself as more than a street kid who’d stumbled into a circumstance where she could excel.

“Want one?” Ford asked, pointing to the refrigerator.

“No, thanks. I’m meeting Felicia soon.”

She pulled a hundred dollars out of her wallet and put it on the counter. “Each of you put in the same, and we’ll get the place stocked with basics. Breakfast and snacks only. We each provide our own lunch and dinner.” She cocked her head. “Unless you two want to have one of your bets. Loser cooks for a week and the other two pay for the food. Fair enough?”

The men nodded.

“I’ll take care of the initial shopping,” she continued. “After that, we’ll take turns doing it. Make sure you pay attention to brands and sizes.” She narrowed her gaze. “You will do your own laundry, and you will not leave clothes in either the washer or dryer. In this house, I don’t work for either of you. Is that clear?”

More nods.

They would have to get a cleaning service in, but they had time on that. She’d roomed with men before and knew everything went more smoothly when she took care of the details up front. Otherwise, she was going to have to knock a few heads together, and that always meant someone getting hurt. Not her, of course, but someone.

She studied the two men watching her warily. “I know both of you. Everything’s a competition. I have no problem with that, but leave it outside.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the house.

* * *

FELICIA WAITED OUTSIDE Brew-haha. Consuelo had sent a text saying she was on her way. She watched anxiously, excited to see her friend.

During her military career and later with the security company, Felicia had mostly worked with men. Women had not been allowed in combat. Ipso facto, she hadn’t had much of a chance to make female friends. Consuelo had been one of the few on the team. She was beautiful but deadly and had often been sent on assignments that required covert contact and distraction.

There had been times when Consuelo had seduced the enemy, gained the information she needed, then killed him before disappearing into the night. A different kind of assassin, Felicia thought. Snipers took lives, but what Consuelo had done was more personal and more dangerous.

Felicia turned and caught sight of her friend crossing the street. Although Consuelo was only five foot two, she was strong. A sexually appealing combination of curves and muscle. Men couldn’t help turning to gape at her. But when they looked into her dark eyes, they usually backed off. Consuelo had perfected what she jokingly called the “don’t eff with me” stare.

Felicia had worked to copy her friend’s deadly glare, but when she tried it people tended to ask if she wasn’t feeling well. It must have been an innate gift.

Now she watched the petite fighter walk along the sidewalk. She wore jeans, a lime-green tank top and sandals. She should have looked like any other tourist, yet she didn’t. From the tip of her long, shiny ponytail to her controlled stride, she radiated confidence and danger.

Consuelo saw her and smiled. They hurried toward each other and embraced.

“Finally,” Felicia said with a smile. “I’ve been waiting what feels like forever for you to get here. Of course it’s only been three months, but missing you makes time seem to move more slowly in the context of our friendship.”

Consuelo laughed. “You are such a freak.”

“I know.”

“It makes you special and me love you more.” Her friend smiled at her. “How are you? I’ve missed you, too.”

They hugged again, then headed into the store and ordered iced coffees. After collecting their drinks, Felicia led the way outside, and they sat down at one of the tables shaded by an umbrella.

“So, tell me everything,” Consuelo said before taking a sip of her drink. “What is this place?”

“Fool’s Gold? It’s such an interesting town. Large enough to have an assortment of amenities, but still small enough for the residents to connect with each other.”

Consuelo wrinkled her nose. “It’s not natural. Have you seen the house Angel and Ford picked? It was built in the ’60s or something.”

“A ranch style. They used space efficiently, separating the living area of the house from the bedrooms. Very traditional.”

“It’s weird and I don’t like it.”

Felicia knew her resistance came from her unfamiliarity with the situation. Consuelo was used to being in the field or living in a city. Small-town America was bound to be unsettling.

Her friend looked at her. “My complaints aside, you look happy.”

“I am,” Felicia said, and realized it was true. “I’ve wanted to find a home, and I believe I have. I have a new job.”

She explained about the festivals and how she would be in charge. “I’m a little concerned about meeting everyone’s expectations.”

“You’ll do great.”

“I’m less worried about the logistics than the undefinable ‘people’ factor.”

“You do better with people than you give yourself credit for,” Consuelo told her. “Everyone has a different style. You have yours. It works. Go with it.”

“I wish...” Felicia shook her head. “I understand the futility of wishing.”

“That doesn’t make the need to do it go away. Look at the bright side. At the end of the day the worst anyone is going to find out about you is that you’re even smarter than they first thought. After that, it’s all easy.”

Felicia understood the unspoken part of her friend’s statement. The worst someone could learn about Consuelo was what she’d done in her past. Those who didn’t live in the gray area of black ops and covert missions might judge her or be afraid. They might not see that behind the attitude and killer reflexes was a lonely woman who simply wanted to belong.

Early in their friendship, Consuelo had told Felicia a little about her past. At first Felicia had thought they were practicing traditional female bonding, but over time she’d realized Consuelo was testing her. Trying to see if she was a real friend or someone who couldn’t take the truth. Eventually Felicia had convinced her she was unshockable. She frequently participated in mission debriefings. The soldiers she knew were killers. Consuelo was no different and had her own ghosts to deal with.

“You need a man,” Felicia said.

Consuelo stared at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. If I want to get laid, I’ll find somebody.”

“I wasn’t thinking about sexual release, although that’s very pleasurable. You need a relationship, a place where you can allow a man to really know you and believe he cares about you.”

Dark eyes turned dangerous. “We are not having this conversation.”

“All evidence to the contrary?”

Consuelo made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“I’m unmoved by your threats. They’re meaningless. You’d never resort to physical force, and you’re only mentioning them because they work on the guys.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I’m smarter than them.”

“You’re also a pain in my ass.”

“Both cheeks?”

Consuelo laughed. “Yes, both cheeks. Fine, I can’t threaten you into silence. I don’t want a man.”

“I think you want what I want. A place to belong.”

“It’s sure not here.”

“Why not? You’re taking a job here. Logistically it makes sense to find a relationship close to your employment.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“I acknowledge the element of chance in pair bonding. I’m just saying while you’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to look.”

“I’m not the PTA type.”

“You don’t have children. Why would you join the PTA?”

Consuelo raised her eyebrows.

“Oh,” Felicia said slowly, once again slightly out of step with the conversation. The difference was with Consuelo, she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about it. “It’s like a picket fence. I get that. You’re not traditional. Neither am I, although I’m trying to move in that direction.” She thought about the women she saw around town. Young mothers with children. Teenagers talking together and laughing.

“Anyone you’re interested in?” Consuelo asked.

“Gideon.”





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