He’d never realized how closely fear and desire were linked….

Joe knew the exact moment that Penny came through the doors of the police station. He couldn’t see her yet, but he heard the buzz, felt a slight shift in atmosphere, as though everyone had come to attention.

Because she intrigued him—and because she was so closemouthed about her life these past years—he’d done a simple background check on her. He hadn’t intended to. A few taps on the computer keys and he’d found himself typing in Penny’s name.

He’d been stunned to find no trace of her. It was as though she didn’t exist—had never existed.

Whatever work she actually did had to be highly classified, and most likely dangerous, if someone had gone to the trouble to remove her identity from every computer data bank he’d known to access.

At that moment, she turned and met his gaze.

His heart actually thumped behind his breastbone. A pure shot of adrenaline turned his knees to jelly—much the same feeling as facing the business end of a gun in a dark alley….

Dear Reader,

Happy New Year! May this year bring you happiness, good health and all that you wish for. And at Harlequin American Romance, we’re hoping to provide you with a year full of heartwarming books that you won’t be able to resist.

Leading the month is The Secretary Gets Her Man by Mindy Neff, Harlequin American Romance’s spin-off to Harlequin Intrigue’s TEXAS CONFIDENTIAL continuity series. This exciting story focuses on the covert operation’s much-mentioned wallflower secretary, Penny Archer.

Muriel Jensen’s Father Formula continues her successful WHO’S THE DADDY? series about three identical sisters who cause three handsome bachelors no end of trouble when they discover one woman is about to become a mother. Next, after opening an heirloom hope chest, a bride-to-be suddenly cancels her wedding and starts having intimate dreams about a handsome stranger, in Have Gown, Need Groom. This is the first book of Rita Herron’s new miniseries THE HARTWELL HOPE CHESTS. And Debbi Rawlins tells the emotional story of a reclusive rancher who opens his home—and his heart—to a lovely single mother, in Loving a Lonesome Cowboy.

In February, look for another installment in the RETURN TO TYLER series with Prescription for Seduction by Darlene Scalera.

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

The Secretary Gets Her Man

Mindy Neff

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is for Nancy Dayton and Jim Jones—river neighbors, and friends. You guys are the greatest.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Originally from Louisiana, Mindy Neff settled in Southern California, where she married a really romantic guy and raised five great kids. Family, friends, writing and reading are her passions. When not writing, Mindy’s ideal getaway is a good book, hot sunshine and a chair at the river’s edge with water lapping at her toes.

Mindy loves to hear from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 2704-262, Huntington Beach, CA 92647.

Books by Mindy Neff

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

644—A FAMILY MAN

663—ADAM’S KISS

679—THE BAD BOY NEXT DOOR

711—THEY’RE THE ONE!*

739—A BACHELOR FOR THE BRIDE

759—THE COWBOY IS A DADDY

769—SUDDENLY A DADDY

795—THE VIRGIN & HER BODYGUARD*

800—THE PLAYBOY & THE MOMMY*

809—A PREGNANCY AND A PROPOSAL

830—THE RANCHER’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE†

834—THE PLAYBOY’S OWN MISS PRIM†

838—THE HORSEMAN’S CONVENIENT WIFE†

857—THE SECRETARY GETS HER MAN

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Penny Archer stepped a little harder on the throttle of her sleek black Cadillac as the headlights caught the reflective road sign announcing Darby, Texas five miles ahead.

Along the gravel shoulder of the road, a deer paused, eyes shining bright in the flash of headlights. Penny eased up on the gas. She’d been traveling for close to six hours and it wouldn’t do to play a game of chicken with the wildlife. From past experience, she knew the Caddie would end up on the losing end of the deal if it came down to a collision.

And it would only set her back time-wise. In and out, she promised herself. She’d get her grandmother’s affairs in order, sell the house, touch base with a couple of her high school friends, then get the heck out of Dodge—or Darby, rather.

She wondered if she’d subconsciously chosen the cover of darkness to return to her hometown that she’d only visited twice in the past twelve years.

Memories rolled over her—some painful, some embarrassing and some that were gentle, warm and irreplaceable.

She felt bad that she hadn’t been here for her grandmother’s funeral. Agnes Archer had been a pistol of a woman, tough to get along with, bitter, but nobody deserved to die and be buried alone. If it hadn’t been for the latest case the Texas Confidential unit had been working on, Penny would have come. But she’d been tied up and the funeral had taken place without her.

Uncharacteristically, Penny flipped down the visor and checked her appearance in the lighted mirror as she turned onto Main Street. The image staring back at her gave her a momentary jolt. An hour back, when she’d stopped for gas, she’d impulsively exchanged her stylish, wire-rimmed glasses for a pair of contact lenses. Vanity wasn’t normally part of her makeup, but some devil had urged Penny to take off the glasses, to play up her assets, to show off the good bone structure she’d enhanced with a few cosmetics.

Annoyed with herself, she flipped the visor back in place. It was as dark as sin out, for heaven’s sake. The sidewalks in town had been rolled up by five no doubt and it was after eleven now. Not another soul was on the road. Who did she expect to see? Or impress?

An image of a boy with dark hair, broad shoulders and gentle brown eyes flashed like a strobe in her brain and she immediately cut it off. Her life was on a different course now and there wasn’t room for foolish fantasies.

For the past twelve years, Penny had been working as Mitchell Forbes’s executive assistant in the highly secretive Texas Confidential organization. She knew the cases and the agents better than anyone. And although her position with Texas Confidential was important and fulfilling, lately Penny had yearned for more. She hadn’t quite been able to put her finger on what that “more” was until she’d single-handedly apprehended a band of cattle rustlers who’d been plaguing the Smoking Barrel ranch—Texas Confidential headquarters—for months. The adrenaline rush, the sense of accomplishment and the recognition and praise she’d gotten from her friends and colleagues had given her the courage to tell Mitchell that she wanted a more active role in the agency.

She wanted to be an agent.

Mitchell had agreed, and by this time next month, she would begin her training. But first she had to take care of her grandmother’s estate.

And perhaps, to a certain degree, Penny needed to face up to her past before she could actually move on. Where that thought came from, she had no idea. And it made her more than a little uncomfortable.

Through the Cadillac’s heavily tinted windows, she gazed out at the dark storefronts where shadowy mannequins posing in the boutiques seemed to follow the progress of her car as she passed. The crazy thought had Penny laughing out loud. She’d obviously been hanging around secret agents too long—needed a vacation more than she’d realized. She was starting to see menace in plastic dummies in store windows.

A banner stretching across the street from opposite light poles announced the coming of the Fourth of July parade. Three weeks away. Where had the year gone already?

Leaving the quiet streets of town, she wound her way through a tree-lined residential area and turned into the driveway of her grandmother’s wood-and-brick house. Two strips of concrete represented the driveway. Untended grass growing along the center of the drive brushed the Cadillac’s undercarriage. Behind the house, the detached garage loomed like a big old barn—with a padlock threaded through the hinge. Evidently, Grandma hadn’t gotten around to installing the automatic garage door opener Penny had sent.

When she shut off the engine, silence pressed in on her. She was used to living on an isolated ranch, listening to the sounds of animals and insects and nature. She was used to being alone—or at least single. Tonight the quiet unnerved her.

She reached for her purse and got out of the car, digging through the bag as she went up the back porch steps. When her fingers didn’t touch the set of keys she was certain she’d put there, she used a pen-light to search the interior of the leather pocketbook, then ended up dumping the contents on the porch.

Great. She’d forgotten the darn keys the attorney had mailed to her. That wasn’t like her. She was efficient to a fault—she had to be to run a highly secretive agency like Texas Confidential. Well, not exactly run it, but close to it. She was their right-hand woman—albeit behind the scenes. But all that was about to change.

Running her hands above the door and along the sides of the shutters, she searched for a spare key, knowing she wasn’t likely to find one. Agnes Archer had been a private, paranoid woman. In a town where most people never locked their doors, Agnes had installed double dead bolts. She wouldn’t have set out a spare key for some criminal to find.

Penny often wondered why her grandmother had been so fixated on criminals to begin with.

Unable to jimmy the windows that had been virtually painted shut over the years, Penny knew the only way she was going to get in and get any rest was to break a window. Going back to the car, she retrieved her tire iron and a blanket she kept in the trunk for emergencies.

Although she was prepared for the sound, she cringed as shattering glass rained inside against the pinewood floor. Wrapping her hand and arm in the blanket, she cleared the jagged edges away, then climbed through the opening onto the service porch.

Agnes had been gone for over two weeks now, but the clean, familiar scent of starch still lingered. The narrow beam of her flashlight passed over the ironing board sitting in the corner, the iron resting face down amid a rusty brown water stain.

Entering the kitchen, Penny slapped at the light switch, distressed when the power didn’t come on. She was tired, her nerves rawer than she’d anticipated and she wasn’t in the mood to stumble around in a dark house that evoked more emotions than she cared to feel.

Hoping it was just a burned-out bulb, she went into the living room and tried the lamp, knocking her shin against the end table and barely suppressing a curse.

When that light didn’t come on either, she tried to recall where the circuit breaker panel was.

“Hold it right there.”

Fear, primal and burning, stole her breath and shot through her blood with a dizzying jolt. For a fleeting, hysterical instant, her thought was that this was the wrong reaction for a government agent to have. Never mind that she wasn’t a full-fledged agent yet. She should be deadly calm, ready to act and react.

Belatedly, though no more than a second could have passed, Penny whirled around, simultaneously shutting off the pitifully weak beam of the flashlight so as not to make herself a target. Her eyes not yet adjusted to the inky blackness, she crouched and reached for the gun in her purse. But before she could even register that her pocketbook wasn’t hanging at her side, a shoulder slammed into her midsection and she went down hard, her hip jarring against the unyielding hardwood floor.

Finesse gave way to sheer terror and self-preservation as she squirmed and kicked and jabbed. “You son of a—”

“Wait! Hold it…”

“Not a chance, buddy.” She arched beneath her assailant. Unable to get good enough leverage to throw a decent punch, she started to bring her knee up.

“Hold on, wildcat…damn it…Penny, it’s me.”

He didn’t have to identify who “me” was.

Memories flashed.

That voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in sixteen years.

The voice of the only man she’d ever truly loved—or thought she’d loved—a man who’d made a fool out of her and broke her heart, a man who’d proved what her grandmother had spent nearly a lifetime drumming into Penny’s head. That men were no good and not to be trusted with your heart.

Joe Colter.

Flat on her back, Penny hesitated in her wild struggle and it was distraction enough for Joe to get the upper hand. He manacled her wrists in one of his hands and jerked her arms above her head. With his free hand, he shined a flashlight in her eyes.

Penny was alternately stunned, confused and spitting mad. She bucked against him. “Damn it, get the hell off me.”

From the flashlight’s beam, she saw him grin. It wasn’t fair that one man could be so handsome. Deep creases bracketed his mouth and fanned out beside his eyes.

“Not a chance.” The repeat of her words seemed deliberate.

She went slack, her chest heaving with every breath she took, a combination of exertion, fear and much, much more. The weight of his body was beginning to arouse rather than restrain.

“Darby’s welcoming committee, I presume?” she finally asked, annoyed by the breathy hitch in her voice.

His grin kicked up another notch. “Something like that. Although we’re usually more mannerly.”

“I should hope so. You’ll chase away the tourists.” She took a steadying breath. “It’s been a long time, Joe.”

“So you do recognize me.”

She stiffened imperceptibly, then deliberately made herself relax. The last time they’d been together, they’d been in a very similar position. With him on top. And soon after that, she’d knocked the hell out of him with a right punch and walked out of his life.

“I recognize you. What are you doing skulking around my grandmother’s house?”

“Protecting and serving.”

“Good way to get yourself shot.”

“Likewise—though I might point out that I’m still armed and you appear to be, uh, at a disadvantage, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Right now, I’m too tired to mind much. But I’ll assure you, I’m only at a disadvantage because I’m allowing it.”

His palm smoothed over her shoulder and down her arm, gently squeezing her biceps. She knew what he was feeling and resisted the urge to flex those muscles. Sleekly feminine, there was still power beneath that flesh. And the touch of Joe’s hand was making it difficult to breathe.

“You’re not gonna hit me if I let go, are you?”

Her lips curved. “Take a chance.” When he released her wrists, her palm came up to rest on his chest, her fingers tracing the badge pinned there. “A lawman. I wouldn’t have pictured it.”

Joe rolled off her and reached for his hat that had been knocked off in the struggle. “Mmm, and you a secret agent. I wouldn’t have pictured it.”

“Who told you I was a secret agent?” She accepted the hand he held out and let him help her up.

“Your grandmother liked to brag. I’m sorry about her death, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the funeral.” Standing, she let go of his hand and rubbed at her hip, knowing she’d have a bruise. “I was out of town and by the time Kelly tracked me down, the funeral was over.” Kelly Robertson had been Penny’s high school friend and source of sporadic hometown information over the years.

Kelly had neglected to tell her that Joe Colter was still in town.

The last she’d heard, Joe had married and moved away. After gleaning that bit of information, Penny hadn’t asked about him again.

It had hurt too much.

“Yeah. That’s what she said.” His tone was deep and gentle with compassion.

“You talked to Kelly about me?”

“Sure. Darby’s still a small town.”

Penny told herself she wouldn’t cringe. Living in this small town—this gossipy small town—had caused the single most excruciating embarrassment in her life.

The moment when she’d realized that everyone but her knew that Joe Colter, the most popular jock in school, had seduced brainy Penny Archer on a bet.

And by God, she wasn’t going to get caught up in all the old insecurities. It had been sixteen years. In the beginning, she’d convinced herself she hated him. She had to admit now that she didn’t. The feelings were just as strong as they’d been the day after graduation.

And that scared her. Because it made her vulnerable. She hadn’t thought of herself as vulnerable in a very long time.

“You okay?”

She clenched her fist and snapped her attention back to Joe. Or what she could see of him. “I’m fine. I’d be better with some light. Mind if I borrow your flashlight to find the breaker box?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Suit yourself. I think the panel’s on the service porch. Careful of the glass.”

She heard his boots scuff against the floor as he moved back through the kitchen, then heard the crunch of glass and the squeak of rusty hinges a second before the lights came on.

Turning in a circle, she glanced at the furniture—some pieces she remembered and some she didn’t. There were changes here, but there was also familiarity.

She’d spent hours of her childhood in this room, yet scarcely a day of her adulthood. And that made her sad.

She looked up and saw Joe leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. He wore jeans and boots, a crisp tan uniform shirt with a badge pinned to his chest pocket and a tan Stetson hat.

A Texas lawman. Casual. Yet dangerous. He radiated welcome and power. And just the sight of him made her giddy.

The man was entirely too good-looking. Always had been.

She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “We both know how I got in the house. How did you get in?”

“Actually, I have a key. Got it from Reilly after Agnes passed away.”

“The attorney. Is it just a coincidence, or is he the same Russ Reilly who played running back at Darby High?”

“The same. I’d have thought a woman with your connections would have checked out strange men sending you keys in the mail.”

She arched a brow, feeling on more solid ground. She knew he was wondering about her and it felt good to be thought of as a woman of mystery. In school, she’d been brainy Archer, nobody special, someone who pretty much blended into the woodwork. Oh, she’d had plenty of friends—but few in the “in crowd”…except for Joe Colter. And courting that relationship had been a painful, lesson-learning mistake she would not repeat.

“Sounds like you’re fishing for information, Colter.”

“Maybe I am. All in the name of law enforcement, you understand.”

She grinned, liking the feeling of keeping him off balance. She didn’t normally play games with men. But then, she didn’t normally come within touching distance of Joe Colter, either. “Then you’ll understand about confidentiality.”

“Mmm. What about professional courtesy?”

“I wasn’t aware that we were on a case.”

His gaze was very direct. “We could be.”

Penny shivered. She didn’t know when the conversation had taken such a turn, but she’d lost the thread. And had no idea what they were talking about or around, or what the innuendoes meant. She only knew that if she didn’t get a grip, she was going to do something stupid. Like walk right into Joe Colter’s arms and beg him to give her a refresher course on the feel of his lips against hers.

Or worse yet, to give him a refresher course, to show him exactly what he’d thrown away sixteen years ago, what he’d missed.

She took a breath, needed a distraction. “So…I heard you got married.”

His nod was barely there, his gaze watchful. “Divorced four years ago.”

A warm flush washed over her. “I hadn’t heard that.” Thinking he was married had been a buffer. Now that buffer was gone. And he was standing in front of her looking at her as though she was dinner. Oh, man. “Do you have children?”

He shook his head. “Wanted them. She didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

The hint of yearning in his tone connected with something inside Penny. Something she wasn’t aware of and didn’t understand. She shook off the odd tug.

“I’m surprised you stayed in Darby. I’d pictured you as a professional jock or corporate shark or something.”

“I tried my hand at being an attorney and hated it. My heart’s always been on the ranch.”

“That uniform shirt and badge puts me more in mind of a police officer than a cowboy—though the hat and boots beg a question.”

He grinned and tipped his hat. “Police chief of Darby at your service. The mayor talked me into it. I divide my time between the ranch and town.”

“Busy man.”

“Makes me happy. You look really good, Pen.”

Penny resisted the urge to fuss with her hair and clothes. She did, however, stand a little taller. His gaze touched on her breasts, caressed everywhere they traveled.

Her gray T-shirt was snug, tucked into black jeans. She prided herself on being in shape, lifted weights and jogged to stay that way. Working in an environment with a bunch of men—highly trained agents—Penny felt the need to keep up, to maintain a lean, honed, healthy body. Now it was second nature to her. She liked looking good, knowing that even if she was wearing sensible, no-nonsense clothes, the body beneath was trim and toned and in good working order.

And seeing the appreciation in Joe Colter’s eyes made her glad that she kept up.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, Colter.” She moved past him and went into the kitchen. “You on duty or would you like to stay for a cup of coffee?” Bad move, Archer. But hospitality was ingrained in her.

“Actually, I’m off. One of the men was out sick so I worked a double shift and was on my way home when I saw your black Caddie pull into Agnes’s driveway. I didn’t know it was you.”

“And now you do.”

“And very glad of it.”

His tone of voice made her shiver. She was not going to succumb to Joe Colter’s charm. Giving the contents of the fridge a quick perusal, she said, “There’s a can of decaf in here. Yes or no?”

“Sounds good.” He hooked a boot around the rung of the kitchen chair, pulled it away from the table and sat.

Penny tried not to notice the breadth of his shoulders, or the way his presence filled the room. She tried not to remember how he’d looked sixteen years ago, sitting at this same kitchen table, algebra and English books spread in front of him, his dark brows endearingly drawn together in a frown of concentration. Back then, he’d still been big and masculine, but youth, she noticed, had given way nicely to maturity. Now, his presence felt totally different, dangerous somehow.

She was being ridiculous. She’d been living on a ranch with men for years, worked with men. Granted, recently there had been changes at the Smoking Barrel. Four of the agents had traded in their bachelorhood for happy marriage and family.

Maybe that’s what was wrong with her. All the changes were setting her off balance, goosing her own biological clock.

But just because Joe Colter sat in her grandmother’s kitchen oozing more sex appeal than was fair, was no reason for her to turn into a stammering, awkward girl. She was a much different woman than the one who’d left here sixteen years ago.

And she didn’t intend to stay.

“You said you were on your way home, yet isn’t this place a little out of the way? As I recall your ranch is the other direction.” She filled the carafe with water and scooped coffee into the basket.

“The neighbors reported seeing a strange car outside a few days back. I’ve made it a point to cruise by since then.”

“Wasn’t me. I just got in.”

“I know. I pretty much have my finger on the pulse of the town.”

“Mmm, and that would be why you tackled me like a linebacker sacking the quarterback?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t say my information was always accurate. I apologize for jumping you, but when a stranger crouches in a shooting stance, it’s a natural reaction.”

“I guess I’m lucky you didn’t shoot first and ask questions later?”

“No, you’re lucky I was the one who came to check rather than the Truman sisters. They would have shot first and questioned later.”

Penny laughed. Though both women had been married—several times each—they were still known as the Truman sisters. Georgia was a retired telephone operator who knew the dirt on everyone in town, and Wanetta ran a dress shop in town that specialized in hats. As a child, Penny had wished the sisters could have adopted her. “Do they still live across the street?”

“Still. And believe me, your grandmother held you up to them like you were the President’s guard. You’ve become their hero, and it can get a little scary.”

Penny turned, feeling her heart soften. “Grandma talked about me?”

“She was proud.”

“Why didn’t she ever tell me? Why did she shut me down every time I called and wanted to visit?” She asked the question aloud, even knowing Joe wouldn’t have the answer.

“I didn’t know you’d been interested in coming home.”

Snapping out of her inward thoughts, she looked at him. Censure colored his tone even though his features gave nothing away.

“You thought I’d just turned my back on her or something?”

He shrugged. “Seemed that way.”

“As a lawman, you should know better than to assume. You ought to check your facts, Colter.” Annoyed, she tapped her foot, staring at the coffeepot, wishing it would hurry up and drip. She was beginning to regret inviting Joe to stay.

“I don’t imagine you’re an easy woman to check facts on,” he said reasonably. “And I didn’t think I had the right.”

She could have kicked herself. Her testiness made it seem like she cared what he thought of her, made it seem like she would have expected him to know her, to wonder about her, to keep up with her.

Those were her own fantasies. Not his.

The coffeepot wheezed and finally started pumping.

“So how long will you stay?”

She shrugged. “Long enough to get the house cleaned out and up for sale.”

“A few weeks, then?”

“Yes, maybe a bit longer.” Unless she ended up making a fool out of herself over Joe Colter.

“Need any help unloading your car?”

She shook her head, looked at him. “I can get it later.”

“It’s obvious you can.” He pointedly glanced at the well-defined muscles in her arms. “Would you like the help?”

She swallowed hard at the look of appreciation shining out of his sexy eyes. “Ah, chivalry. Goes along with the protecting and serving, hmm?”

“You’re nervous.”

She nearly dropped the cup she’d been reaching for. Glancing over her shoulder, she did her best to appear bewildered by his observation. “Excuse me?”

“I’m making you nervous.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked softly.

So softly, her hands trembled. She wouldn’t melt, she told herself. She wouldn’t fall into the depths of those intoxicating hazel eyes. “Yes. I’ve just driven over six hours. I’m punchy. Not nervous.” Rather than waiting patiently for the coffee to brew, she took advantage of the pause feature and set her cup right under the drip mechanism.

“Whatever you say. You know you’ll get a damn strong cup of coffee that way.”

“I like it strong.”

“What else do you like?” His voice was deep and provocative.

She laughed. “I’m not a pathetically naive girl anymore, and I’m not biting, Colter, so you can just rein in the flirting.”

She didn’t know he’d moved until he put his hand on her shoulder. She jerked and coffee hissed, spit and danced as it hit the hot plate.

“I think there’s something we need to get out of the way.” He reached around her to put the carafe back on the hot plate and took the mug out of her hand, then turned her to face him. “I owe you an apology.”

She frowned. “For what?” He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him. The urge to press against him had her heart pounding.

“For what I did to you. I know I’m late by sixteen years, but I wanted you to know how sorry I am for hurting you.”

Penny was mortified that he’d actually brought up the subject and was thankful for the shadowy light in the kitchen—hoped it hid the immediate tinge of color that rushed to her cheeks. Color that might have been anger or embarrassment, she wasn’t totally certain which. Probably a little of both.

Gathering her dignity, she ducked beneath his arm and moved away from him. “Really, Joe. Get over yourself. Do you actually believe I’ve given you a thought after all these years? I can’t believe your ego.”

He went very still. Similar to a panther watching his prey, waiting for the precise moment to pounce. Danger radiated a second before he took his next step, crowding her against the cabinets.

And Penny found herself frozen in place.

“Haven’t you?” he asked softly. “Thought of me?”

Since her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, she shook her head.

“Liar.” He put a finger under her chin, tipped it up. “Everything about you radiates a challenge, y’know that? And I never could resist a challenge.”

She knew he was going to kiss her and she knew she should stop him. But she didn’t do a damn thing to evade him.

His head lowered. A breath away from touching, he said, “I’ve thought about you. A lot. And I’d wager hard-earned money you’ve thought about me, too.” His gaze dropped to her lips, moved back to her eyes. “Maybe this’ll refresh your memory.”

Chapter Two

I’d wager hard-earned money.

The words stung like bees around her heart, but her traitorous, needy body overruled common sense as she melted into the kiss.

His hips pinned her against the counter and his belt buckle pressed against her middle. For an instant she wondered why he didn’t wear a thick holster with all the latest weaponry and gadgets, then remembered where they were. Darby, Texas. A little blip on the map outside of Austin. Here, there were no drug cartels or terrorists.

Just Joe Colter. The man by whom she’d judged every relationship over the years. The man who’d been her first love, who’d toyed with her affections and broken her heart.

The man who could still kiss like nobody’s business. Just a minute longer, she told herself. Because she had thought of him. And she did remember. Oh, how she remembered.

But she couldn’t allow herself to get caught up, to entertain any silly dreams or listen to mythical biological clocks ticking—a clock she intended to ignore, had to ignore.

Joe Colter was obviously entrenched in this town, the very town that she’d once run from—because of him. Her life was with Texas Confidential now.

Indulging a moment longer, her heart pumped when she felt Joe’s fingers tremble as his hands gently framed her face. That she could cause the reaction in him filled her with feminine power.

As though a floodgate had suddenly been opened, she poured herself into the kiss—just to show him what he’d missed, she told herself.

The problem with cockiness was that it often backfired.

And Penny’s intentions definitely backfired.

He insinuated a knee between her thighs, exerted just enough pressure to have her aching and throbbing and yearning to take him right down to the floor with her, to put out the fire.

And that was very dangerous. Joe Colter wasn’t for her. He never had been and never would be. He made her vulnerable. And she’d spent the last sixteen years teaching herself not to be vulnerable—or at least how to hide it well.

She put a palm on his chest, eased back.

“Looks like you win the bet again.”

He winced, closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” Why did she keep needling him in ways that reminded them both of the past? “Forget I brought it up. I participated as much as you did just now.”

He leaned back and watched her for a long moment, looking as though he wanted to say more. Instead, he swept a finger beneath her eye. “You’re tired. I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

Gentleness. She wasn’t used to it, and ridiculously, it made her want to cry.

Pretend, Penny. She deliberately let her gaze drift down the front of him, below his belt, then back up to his blazing hazel eyes. “From where I’m standing, looks like I’m the one who might have taken advantage.”

His brow cocked. “You always did pack a hell of a punch. Both with your fist and with your mouth.”

“Nice to know some things stay the same, hmm?”

“Or get better.”

She saw the appreciation in his eyes. She knew she looked good, much better than she had as a nerdy high school girl. But beneath the makeup and casually provocative clothes, she was still no-nonsense Penny Archer. She hadn’t been able to hold him sixteen years ago. She wasn’t even going to try now.

“It’s getting late…” she hedged.

“You’re right. I’ll find something to board up that window.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s a warm night, I’ll leave it for morning.”

“The mosquitoes will likely carry you off by then.”

She smiled. “I’ll shut the kitchen door.”

“It’ll only take me a minute.”

She let out a breath in a hiss. “I really am capable of boarding up—”

He winked, interrupted, “We aim to protect and serve.”

“Fine, then. I’ll help you.”

“I didn’t ask for help.”

“Neither did I.”

He shook his head and let out a sigh. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she drawled, charmed despite herself. “Maybe because it’s after midnight and I’m kind of tired? Or maybe because I’m just not used to being treated like a damsel in distress?”

“Baby, you don’t look like any damsel in distress I’ve ever seen.”

That made her laugh. “Compliments. I like those. Come on, Colter. Neither one of us’ll get to bed if we don’t take care of that window.”

His grin was slow and provocative. “I think I’ll leave that statement alone.”

“Good idea.”

They found a piece of plywood in the garage and hammered it over the opening. Joe insisted on helping her unload the car, too. He grinned when she glared at him.

“We’re going to butt heads, you and I, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Seems so. Are you looking for compliments to the mayor on how well you’re doing your job?”

“Hell no. If I could hand this position over to somebody else tomorrow, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

That made her pause. “You aren’t happy with your job?”

“I’d rather just run the ranch.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“I made a commitment.”

Just like he’d made a commitment to seduce her all those years ago, she thought. Granted, it had been a bet, but he’d put his whole self into accomplishing the task. Boy, had he.

Penny hadn’t realized just how much that incident still bugged her. She’d thought she’d dealt with it, matured, forgotten.

She hadn’t.

She had an idea she was going to have to let Joe fully explain himself before she left. And she would tell him just how he’d made her feel, let him have it with both barrels. Get it off her chest.

Then she could move on.

Perhaps this was the unfinished business she’d thought about when she’d been driving into town. The part of her past she had to face and put behind her once and for all so she could move on.

But not tonight.

“Is that all of it?” Joe asked, setting down her duffel bag and handing her the case containing her laptop computer.

“For now.” There was an attaché case in a special compartment of the trunk that held another weapon and more ammo, but she had an extra loaded clip for the thirty-eight in the suitcase. And chances of needing an arsenal in Darby were next to none.

She walked him through the house to the front door and held out her hand.

“It was good to see you again, Joe.” He took her hand, staring at her with an enigmatic smile that made her want to squirm. His expression seemed to say that a handshake was pretty silly in view of that hot kiss they’d exchanged less than twenty minutes ago.

“Call if you need anything.”

“Boxes.”

“Boxes?”

“For packing my grandmother’s things. Where would be a good place to find some?”

“Out in back of Garvey’s market would be your best bet. The Evans just moved to a new place last week. I can check and see if they kept their packing boxes.”

“No need. I’ve got to go into town tomorrow anyway. I appreciate the tip, though.”

THE NEXT MORNING when Penny heard someone in the house she was prepared.

And deadly calm.

She palmed her thirty-eight and stealthily moved toward the kitchen. A drawer squeaked, wood binding against wood. A utensil clattered against the floor.

Knife?

Adrenaline jolted like a shot of pure caffeine. A hell of a noisy intruder.

Gun palmed upward, back against the wall, Penny took a steadying breath, pivoted and crouched in an offensive stance in the kitchen doorway.

She swore when she saw Joe retrieving a fork from the floor.

Her thumb shot the gun’s safety home and her finger came off the trigger.

“Damn it. Don’t you know about doorbells and such?”

He turned, looked from the gun in her hands to her face.

“I knocked. You didn’t answer. And you left the door unlocked, by the way.” He pulled fragrant rolls out of a bag. The coffeepot was already hissing and spitting steam as water dripped through the grounds. The smell alone was enough to make her forgive him.

But he was still staring. “Good way to get yourself shot,” she muttered as she ducked and looked at her reflection in the toaster. She nearly screamed.

What resembled a distorted, four-eyed raccoon stared back at her. Great. Behind the lenses of her glasses, mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. It wasn’t until she heard Joe groan that she looked down and belatedly realized she wasn’t dressed.

The little camisole and tap pants covered all the essential parts—barely. Emerald satin, they were designed to evoke sensuality, for both the wearer and the admirer.

And Joe Colter was definitely admiring. A bit dumbstruck if one wanted to get right down to it.

A brazen sense of feminine power swept her, had her shoulders pulling back despite the glasses and messy eye makeup.

His gaze finally lifted back to hers. “Coffee?”

She nodded and took the mug he held out to her. With the gun in one hand and the coffee in the other, she couldn’t make any gestures of modesty. Nor could she wipe away the smudged mascara. And despite the appreciation in Joe’s eyes, she felt the need for a more even playing field, a bit more armor.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll put on something a bit more suited to company.”

“Don’t go to any trouble on my part.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

JOE FINALLY TOOK a breath when Penny left the room. The satin hem of her little underwear things barely covered the well-toned swell of her behind.

He was going to have major daydreams. And night dreams too.

Penny Archer had changed. Confident, sexy, with just a bare hint of vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface. A vulnerability she did her utmost to hide. He was trained to pick up on subtle nuances. And he’d picked up on hers.

He wanted to pick up a lot more.

But Joe had already been through a rough time with relationships. He had no business entertaining fantasies about a woman from his past. He’d hurt her once. And he didn’t want to hurt her again.

What did he have to offer that she could possibly need? She obviously had an exciting position as a government agent—though exactly what type of an agent he wasn’t sure. Regardless, she wasn’t likely to give that up for small-time life on a ranch.

Because ranching was Joe’s goal. Not law enforcement, or power lunches or good versus evil. He just wanted to be himself. Please himself.

And engaging in a temporary relationship with Penny Archer would be no better than what he’d done to her sixteen years ago.

But man alive, he wanted to follow her into that bedroom and run his hands over that satin encased, dynamite body. She intrigued the hell out of him.

When she came back in the kitchen, she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She’d cleaned up the smudges from beneath her eyes, enhanced them a bit with shadow and added a pale gloss to her lips, making them look wet and tempting. Her curly hair was held off her neck with a clip, the style casual and haphazard and sexy as all get out. The snug jeans and even snugger tank top outlined every delicious curve of her body.

There was an innate sensuality that radiated from her like a shiny gold coin beneath an icy brook, yet there was an aura of mystery, too.

She met his gaze and held it, quietly, comfortably, directly, as though she were a totally open book, a woman of sophistication and experience.

But Joe had an idea few people really knew a damn thing about this woman.

She broke eye contact and looked at the white bakery sack. “Are those Danish from Ellie’s bakery?”

“The same.”

Penny pounced. “Coffee and Ellie’s rolls. You’re a handy man to have around, Joe.”

He grinned. “Not many can resist Ellie’s goodies.”

“And you exploit that weakness to get you off the hook for breaking and entering, hmm?” She bit into a sugary cinnamon bun, closed her eyes, and moaned. “Heaven.”

Joe swallowed hard. A fleck of powdered sugar clung to the gloss on her bottom lip. Mesmerized, he dragged his gaze away from that temptation.

“It wasn’t breaking and entering. The door was unlocked, remember?”

“So you say.” She took another bite. “I thought Rosa was a great cook. I’d forgotten about Ellie’s delights.”

“Rosa?”

“The cook on the ranch where I live.”

Joe realized there was a lot he didn’t know about Penny. “You live on a ranch?”

“Yes. And I love it.”

“Enough to give up being a secret agent?”

She frowned at the odd question. “Don’t need to. The ranch is my home and my home base.”

He had no idea what possessed him to ask such a question in the first place. And though he truly wanted her to tell him more, her evasive tone and look told him today wouldn’t be the day.

Evidently, his interrogating skills were getting rusty. Then again, Penny Archer hadn’t committed a crime. He had no reason to interrogate her.

Except for his own personal enlightment.

“So, other than taking your life in your hands, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Bringing you coffee and rolls…and boxes.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She looked around the kitchen.

“There’s a lot to sift through. I’m not looking forward to it.”

He moved closer, touched her smooth cheek, could practically feel her battling to stand her ground, to keep from flinching and stepping back.

She didn’t trust him. That was clearly evident.

“Can I help?” Speed up the process that’ll take you out of my life again?

She shrugged, rubbed a palm against the thigh of her jeans and stepped around him. She did it smoothly, nonchalantly. He knew she wasn’t as composed as she wanted to appear.

“I imagine it’ll just be tedious stuff. And between keeping the peace in town and tending to cattle or whatever on your ranch, I can’t picture you having a whole lot of spare time.”

“I have competent officers in town and a foreman and full crew on the ranch. I wouldn’t mind spending time with you, Penny. Catching up.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joe—”

“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?”

Penny smiled, felt her insides go all fluttery. She knew that voice. Georgia Truman. One of the honorary aunts from across the street. Wanetta couldn’t be far behind.

“Aunt Georgia,” Penny said, meeting the women in the front hall where they’d already let themselves in the house. “And Aunt Wanetta. It’s so good to see you.” She hugged each woman.

“Land sakes, let’s have a look at you,” Georgia said, holding Penny at arm’s length. “Look, Wanetta. Our girl’s all grown up and she’s got muscles. Didn’t I tell you that job of hers was demanding?”

“Yes, you did, Georgia,” Wanetta said, adjusting the netted hat she wore that had been knocked askew when Penny had hugged her.

“We saw Chief Colter’s car out front and thought we ought to get over and make sure you’re not having troubles.”

“No, nothing like that. He brought coffee and some of Ellie’s rolls.”

“Ah, yes, you poor dear. Of course you don’t have proper food and supplies in the house. Agnes would have ousted us from the bridge club if she’d known we waited so long to be hospitable like this.”

“You’re forgiven. I just got in last night. And it was very late.” Penny smiled, feeling a little overwhelmed. She wasn’t prepared for the emotions that took over at the familiar sight of the women she’d always wished were kin rather than mere neighbors.

Just as she wasn’t prepared for her emotions over Joe.

It really would be in her best interest to get out of town as quickly as possible. But in the light of day, getting a good look at her surroundings, she realized how much her grandmother had let the house run down. It would take some fixing up to get it in shape to sell.

“Oh, Netta and I heard you come in. But we saw Joe’s car then, too.” She paused just a beat. “We didn’t want to come over in our nightclothes with a man present and all. What I meant was we shouldn’t have waited so long this morning.”

“If you’d been earlier, you would have caught me in my nightclothes.”

“And very nice ones at that,” Joe commented softly.

Georgia and Wanetta exchanged a pleased look and Penny glared at Joe. “Don’t you have work to do? Criminals to catch?”

“Darlin’, your window breaking is the most exciting criminal-type activity that has happened around here in a while.” He winked. “But you’re right. I am due to clock in.”

“Someone broke your window?” Wanetta asked.

“I did. I forgot Grandmother’s key.”

“Oh, what a pity. Although we couldn’t have been much help to you there. We gave Agnes a spare set of keys to our house, but she never would reciprocate. Wanetta and I figured you’d probably written her some telling letters, and she felt concerned she might compromise our government’s secrets if some old snoop read the wrong correspondence.”

“Not that she ever came right out and called Georgia or me a snoop,” Wanetta added, the netting on her hat bobbing like a wiry feather duster.

“I’m sure she didn’t.” But Penny was feeling sick to her stomach, now. She hadn’t written lengthy letters to her grandmother. Oh, she’d sent Christmas, birthday, and various holiday cards, added a few lines of personal tidbits. Out of courtesy and duty. Out of guilt.

But Agnes had never reciprocated. And the few times Penny had called, suggested a visit, Agnes had discouraged it.

So why had her grandmother obviously bragged? Why had she led the neighbors and townspeople to believe their relationship was a loving, confiding one?

It was like the behavior of someone whose relative was a social misfit. Lie, brag and pretend to outsiders lest they find out that person’s offspring isn’t quite up to snuff.

Like they’d all done with Penny’s mother.

Was that it? Did Agnes fear Penny would end up like Jeanice Archer? Had she been insulating herself against potential shame?

“Oh, dear,” Georgia said. “We’ve made you sad. Agnes was a strange old bird, but she was your grandmother and I’m sure you miss her.”

“Yes.” Startled, Penny looked back when Joe moved next to her, placed a palm on her shoulder and squeezed.

She wished he’d keep his distance. And that he wouldn’t touch her. It would be all over town before lunch that she and Joe had a thing going.

A rumor spread innocently. Not maliciously. But still too close to the past for comfort. The sisters would mention Joe and Penny’s name in the same breath and the gossip mill would take it from there.

She moved out of his reach. “Thank you for bringing breakfast and the boxes, Joe.”

“My pleasure.” He tipped his hat, gave her that reckless smile that told her he knew he was being politely kicked out. “My offer still stands to help out.”

“I’ll be fine. But I appreciate it.”

He went down the porch steps and Penny noticed how the wood bowed and nails were popping up. The railing between the brick posts holding up the roof overhang were sagging and weather-beaten. This house was a mess.

“Still a handsome devil, don’t you think?” Georgia said.

Penny nodded before she realized Georgia had addressed her question to Wanetta. A sneaky ploy.

“Y’all come into the kitchen and I’ll see if there are any tea bags.”

“Oh, there are. We had a meeting here for the school board a couple of days before Agnes keeled over with the bad heart. She served a divine coffee cake and an assortment of flavored teas. All very classy.”

For Christmas, Penny had sent her grandmother a collection of gourmet tea, along with a pot and an antique china cup-and-saucer collection. She’d imagined her grandmother leaving it in the box on a shelf somewhere.

But according to Georgia and Wanetta, Agnes had used the gift proudly. Entertaining the school board.

“Why did the school board meet here?”

“Agnes was a member. Darnedest thing. After grouching at and scaring half the children in the neighborhood, she suddenly developed a soft spot for them—though she did her best to hide it. Even started a fund-raiser to benefit orphaned children.”

“That’s nice.” Penny set water on to boil and didn’t turn around. She didn’t want the neighbors to see how stunned she was. And hurt, perhaps. Penny herself had basically been an orphan. Her father had been around, but not often, and not for long periods of time.

And though Agnes had taken her in, given her food and shelter, she’d never made Penny feel welcome.

Agnes Archer had tried her best to teach Penny that she was unlovable.

Chapter Three

Remembering Joe’s subtle censure over her not being here for the funeral, Penny wondered if Georgia and Wanetta were thinking the same way.

She turned, looked at the two old women. “I would have visited, but Grandmother always made up excuses and told me not to.”

“Oh, we know that, dear.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Agnes was a pill—more often than not had her lips all puckered up like she was gonna spit. Not many folks understood what made her tick.” Georgia laughed and waved a hand. “I like to think I’ve got an edge on most, being a retired telephone operator and all.”

Penny felt a smile grow. The aunts could always put her at ease. “Aunt Georgia, you’re not going to tell me you eavesdropped on private conversations, are you?”

“Of course I’m not going to tell you that, darlin’.” Her sly smile said it for her.

Besides, everyone in town knew exactly how Georgia had gotten so much of her information.

Penny poured tea in cups, put the rest of the bakery rolls on a plate in the center of the table, and sat down.

“Just like you didn’t tell anyone that Stan Saffrone kept a place over in Austin—and had built a real nice swimming pool over his dead wife’s body?”

Georgia sniffed and tugged at her polyester vest. “I can’t imagine how anyone could draw a parallel between a telephone operator and a typed note left on the police department’s front desk.”

“Of course not,” Penny said with a grin. “Must be my suspicious mind.”

“And well you should have a suspicious mind. That’s an asset to a spy, I’d say. You must regale us with some of your exciting stories, dear.”

“Now, Aunt Georgia…” The telephone rang, saving her. Penny rose to answer, frowning when no one responded. “Hello?” she repeated. Unwilling to play the game, she disconnected first and turned to face the neighbor ladies who were both staring with rapt, expectant expressions.

“The grapevine must work fast,” Penny said with a soft laugh. “Too bad whoever it was didn’t have the courage to speak.”

“Did you get a heavy breather?”

“No. Just didn’t want to talk. Probably the wrong number…unless Grandmother had a special friend?” She didn’t think that likely, but it wouldn’t be unheard of. Someone pining for a lost loved one, dialing a familiar number in a moment of weakness, hoping against hope that death had been a dream, a big mistake.

“Agnes had friends, but no one close. Up until the very last she pretty much held us all at arm’s length,” Georgia said, staring at the telephone receiver Penny had already replaced in its cradle.

“And folks in Darby don’t just hang up,” she continued. “Wrong numbers are simply a good reason to visit with someone new.” She sent a look at Wanetta. “Press automatic call-back and let’s see who it was.”

“Aunt Georgia, if someone’s trying to get in touch with me, they’ll try again.”

“We did have us a case of a heavy breather a month or so back. Old Dudly Ferring got a drunken obsession with Thelma Croft, but she blew a whistle in his ear and burst his eardrum, so I don’t imagine he’s at it again this soon.”

“Nope. No heavy breathing.”

“Suppose one of your spy cases has found out you’re here?” Wanetta asked.

“Wanetta, I do believe you might be on to something.” Georgia lowered her voice dramatically. “Are you in danger, dear? Because Wanetta and I can bring over the shotguns and stand guard.”

Penny laughed and held up her hands. “No shotguns, Aunt Georgia! I’m not in danger. I promise.”

“Well, if you were, you know you could count on us. We take care of our own here in Darby. But of course you’ll remember that, won’t you dear?”

Penny remembered. Though she didn’t feel like she’d been lovingly taken care of. At least not by her grandmother.

Now the sisters, on the other hand, had gone a long way to filling the emotional gap. They’d wanted to lynch Joe when he’d hurt her. Actually, they’d wanted to string up Joe’s father, Cyrus Colter, who Georgia claimed was a useless son of a gun who wanted to live his life through his son and constantly pushed Joe when a smarter man would have known to ease up.

Penny reached across and gave both Georgia’s and Wanetta’s hands a squeeze. “It’s so good to see you both again. I wish I’d just ignored Grandmother’s cold shoulder and come home anyway.”

Wanetta adjusted her ridiculous hat. “You’re here now, that’s what matters. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. But we’ll not hog all of your time. I’m sure you’d like to see some girlfriends.”

“I’d planned to stop by Kelly Robertson’s.” After she made a trip to the cemetery.

“Ah, yes. You know Kelly’s opening a bookstore, don’t you?”

“Mmm. She’d said so in her Christmas card.”

“Due to have the grand opening next week. She’ll be so happy that you’re here to attend. Let me just jot down the telephone numbers for you—although you can get them through information. Folks hardly ever go to the trouble to have their numbers unlisted—especially now with those caller ID features.”

Georgia rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers, found a scrap of paper and scribbled numbers.

“This’ll save you getting caught by Loralie Vanna. She’s one of the local operators here in Darby. She’s supposed to use the computer, but she’s so nosy, half the time she butts right in and engages folks in conversation. I’ve a mind to report her to her superiors, but Wanetta reminds me it’s not my job anymore. Runs my blood pressure up. Here you go, hon.” She handed the paper to Penny and gave her a hug.

“Come for supper if you want,” Wanetta said. “Georgia’s got a chicken all ready to fry up, and there’ll be plenty. Maybe we can even talk Joe into stopping by. A single man, and all, he could use a good home-cooked meal.”

Penny kissed the honorary aunts on the cheeks. “Thanks for the invitation, but don’t count on me. I’ve got a ton of things to do, and I can’t promise a time when I’ll be free.”

“That’s fine, dear. The invitation stands—anytime.”

When the sisters left, Penny called Kelly to let her friend know she’d be by later for a visit. Hanging up, she couldn’t help thinking about the other phone call.

For no good reason, Penny got an uneasy feeling. She’d heard a series of subtle clicks on the line, like the skip of a tape recorder. But why would anyone call and record her voice?

Just to be on the safe side, Penny figured she ought to send a gently probing e-mail to Kendra at the Smoking Barrel. Just to see if anything unusual was up at Texas Confidential headquarters that she should know about.

KELLY ROBERTSON had hardly changed a bit. Still bubbly, outgoing and friendly. She’d put on a little weight after three kids, but it sat well on her, made her look like a woman. Happy and healthy.

“My gosh,” Kelly said when she opened the door. “You look fabulous!” Two shrieking little boys charged past, nearly knocking Penny off the porch. Tightening her grip around the two-year-old in her arm, Kelly made a grab for the little hellions and missed. “Sorry. Come in. Come in. Boys! Stay in the yard.”

“Okay, Mom!”

Kelly shook her head. “I love getting your cards every year. I can’t believe it’s been twelve years since I’ve actually seen you!” Twelve years since her father’s funeral and Mitchell’s invitation to come work for him. “Janelle and Pam are still griping because you didn’t come to the reunion.”

No, she hadn’t come back for the reunion. She’d been worried that Joe would be there. And as much as she might have liked to flaunt her success and hard-won independence, she hadn’t trusted herself to be strong.

Penny stepped into the house, hugged Kelly, and smiled at the little girl who promptly latched onto a hunk of her curly hair. “Ouch!” she teased.

“Makayla, quit it,” Kelly admonished the baby gently, disentangling the fat little fingers. “You don’t pull the hair of important government ladies.”

“Get out,” Penny said.

Kelly laughed. “Yeah. Can’t get too mysterious for me. I know your secrets.”

“If you remind me about that strawberry wine incident, I might have to deck you.”

“Looks like you could mop the floor with me easy enough.” She tested Penny’s firm arms. “You make me sick,” she said fondly. “Here you are all sleek and sexy and I’m a dumpy mother of three.”

“You’re not dumpy and you’re much more than just a mother—although that’s a fine profession in itself.” Unaccountably, Penny had the urge to hold her hands out to little Makayla, to see if the baby would come to her. Weird. “I’m anxious to see your new bookstore.”

“Oh, you will. But not today, okay? I’ve about stocked and inventoried myself to death. Today’s play day. Girls’ day. I hope you don’t mind, but I called Pam and Janelle and told them you were coming. They ought to be here any minute now. I hope that’s okay?”

“Sure. I’m dying to see everybody.” The doorbell rang. “Speak of the devils?”

“Yes. Brace yourself,” Kelly said. “It’s about to look like an unruly day-care center in here.”

Without waiting for an invitation, the door opened and Janelle and Pam came in, each juggling children. The women squealed, set down their kids and ran to hug Penny.

“You dog!” Pam said with a laugh. “Look at you. Miss Secret Agent, herself.”

“Who told everybody I was a secret agent?” Penny asked.

“Oh,” Janelle said. “I just knew that was supposed to be hush-hush. Your grandmother said something at the beauty shop, and I was booked solid that day—seemed like the whole town was there. That must have been five or six years back.” She gave an apologetic shrug and rested her hand on the shelf of her pregnant belly. “By now, I don’t imagine there’s a soul in Darby who doesn’t know.”

They went into the kitchen. Amid coffee cups, baby bottles, little boys running through the back door tracking sand and dirt, toy trucks scattered under the table and a miniature pink shopping cart being shoved repeatedly against the cabinet—and nobody batting an eye or checking for damage—the room was absolute chaos.

And Penny felt a jolt of longing and envy so strong she nearly doubled over with it. Here were her friends. Girlfriends. Girls who’d cried over boys, failed tests, and whined over having to wear stretched out swimsuits in gym class. Penny, it seemed, had always gotten the ones worn by the seniors with gazonga boobs. Her firm little lemons had fared pitifully beneath all that sagging material.

“Russ said if I saw you before he did to tell you he has some papers for you to sign,” Pam said. “Russ was Agnes’s attorney—but you probably already know that.”

“Yes,” Penny said. “I’d planned to stop by, but to be honest, I’m procrastinating. Grandmother’s house is in pretty bad shape and I don’t really know where to start. So I decided to take the day off, catch up with y’all and bring in some groceries. And honestly, how is it you’re having conversations with your husband over breakfast about me when I’ve just got into town?”

“It wasn’t over breakfast. Right after Kelly called to say you were coming over, I phoned Russ so he’d know where I’d be if he needed me. Actually, I was angling for him to take the day off and baby-sit, but no such luck.”

“Speaking of everybody taking the day off,” Janelle said. “I could open up the shop and we could all run over there and do hair and nails and primp. I operate a beauty shop out of my house now. Not that you look like you need to primp,” she amended quickly. “You’ve got the most gorgeous skin. I always hated that about you. Here I am with all the freckles and you don’t have a one.”

“Your freckles are cute,” Penny said. Kelly had written about Janelle’s troubles. She’d finally divorced her no good husband who’d drank and caroused and abused her. Penny was glad to know Janelle had opened her own beauty shop. “And your little girl’s the spitting image of you.”

“Her name’s Lindsey.” Janelle smiled at the shy six-year-old. “She seems a bit awestruck by you.”

Penny laughed. “Why? Did you tell her I was someone scary?”

“No, I did,” Pam said. “Not scary. I told her you were a James Bond girl.”

“Oh, no,” Penny groaned.

“Don’t worry,” Kelly said. “Janelle doesn’t let Lindsey watch R-rated movies so she doesn’t have any idea what a James Bond girl is. But you could always enlighten us,” she invited slyly.

“Oh, yes,” Pam said. “Tell us something juicy.” The three women looked at Penny expectantly. Lindsey shyly inched forward to stand by Penny’s chair. Baby Makayla was still ramming her pink shopping cart into the cabinet.

“It’s not all that glamorous. I work for a branch of the government that handles sensitive cases—which, unfortunately, I can’t speak about.”

“Penny!” Pam wailed. “You can’t just leave it at that.” Her voice lowered and she leaned in closer across the table. “Have you ever shot anybody?”

Penny rolled her eyes and glanced pointedly at Lindsey.

Janelle added her own censoring glare at her friend, then said, “Lindsey, hon, would you redirect Makayla from that cabinet before she knocks a hole in it? Take her on out to the front room where there’s more area to maneuver.”

“Okay.” Lindsey immediately jumped to obey her mother. No whining or sass. Penny wondered if the girl’s shyness and lack of obstinence came from having lived with an abusive father. That thought made her sad. Penny knew about living in a household where you felt the need to walk on eggshells.

When Lindsey had herded Makayla out of the room, Kelly poured another round of coffee. “So, have you shot anyone?” she asked ghoulishly.

“Yes,” Penny said, deliberately shocking her three friends. Well, she had winged one of the cattle rustlers a few months back.

“Oh, my gosh!” Pam cried. “I was sure you’d say no. Is it okay for us to know this? I mean, I don’t have to keep quiet around Russ or anything, do I?”

Penny’s smile grew cunning. “Since I’m sort of Russ’s client, he has a certain loyalty to me, don’t you think?”

All three women were looking at her with awe. “Did you kill the guy?” Kelly asked.

“No. The object is to bring them in alive.”

“Seems silly,” Janelle said softly, almost to herself. “If you could rid the world of some of its vermin then they wouldn’t be taking up space in our jails…and becoming eligible for parole.”

Penny reached over and squeezed Janelle’s hand. From Kelly’s letters she’d learned that Janelle had pressed charges against her ex-husband, Don Gilard, and had sent him to jail for abuse. “I’m really sorry for what you had to go through, Nelle.”

Janelle squeezed back. “Thanks, Pen. I’m happy now, though. I married Jim Edwards, a really sexy, shy guy. He loves Lindsey to pieces and we’re expecting this one in late September.” She patted her swollen tummy.

“Good for you. I’m anxious to meet him.”

“Oh, you will,” Kelly said. “Since he’s my accountant, he’ll be at the bookstore opening next week making sure I’m handling my assets properly. But you should come to the fair tonight. It’s the last night before they pack up and leave town. We’re all taking the kids and dragging the hubbies along, too.”

“I don’t know,” Penny said. “I’ve got an awful lot to do.”

“You said you were procrastinating and playing hooky today. Start tomorrow on your grandmother’s stuff. In fact, I’ll come help you.”

“No. You’ve got your bookstore to deal with. And I’ll need a couple of days at least just to figure out what’s what at the house. I’ll mostly be spinning my wheels, I imagine.”

“So, meet us at the fair,” Pam said. “You were always the daring one on the roller coasters and vomit rides. We’ll make you take our kids.”

“Oh, that’s just what she needs,” Kelly said. “Kids hanging on her back pocket. You ladies forget she’s our resident celebrity.”

“Get out of here,” Penny said. “Why in the world would you call me a celebrity?”

“Do you see anybody else coming back to town with this much excitement and mystery surrounding them? Dine on it, baby.”

“I’m not mysterious.”

“So pretend, for goodness sake. Lanie Dubois will be pea green with jealousy. She still thinks she’s better than anybody else. Do you know she actually showed up at the reunion with her pom-poms? Acting all cutsie and lording it over everybody else that her daddy was promoting her to Vice President of the bank—and of course telling us she didn’t have to work, but wanted to contribute something worthwhile to society.”

“Yeah,” Pam added. “She tried to make us feel like a bunch of house frumps.”

“You’re kidding.” Kelly and Janelle were business owners and Pam ran a small ranch, sat on just about every charity board imaginable, and sold real estate on the side. Added to that, all three were raising children.

House frumps? Not likely.

“So what do you want me to do? Wear my thirty-eight on my hip?”

“Can you?” Kelly asked, rubbing her hands together.

Penny laughed. “No. And don’t you all start with me. I’d just as soon keep a low profile while I’m here, okay?”

“Killjoy,” Pam said. “Once Joe Colter gets a look at you, low profile will be history. He’s as visible as they come and he’ll set his sights on you in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t even go there,” Penny said, making a great effort to keep her voice even and her smile pleasant. “Guys like Joe Colter just don’t do it for me anymore.”

She was lying through her teeth.

A quick glance at Kelly confirmed that her friend saw right through the lie. Kelly was the only one who knew that Penny had actually slept with Joe Colter. The rest of the town just thought he’d dated her on a bet. A charity case, so to speak.

Only Kelly knew the whole truth. That sixteen years ago, she’d given her virginity and her heart to Joe Colter—and neither one had meant a thing to him.

THE WARM JUNE AIR was redolent with the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, peanuts and cooking fires. Music played and children shrieked.

Carrying a cone of blue cotton candy, Penny walked around the fair grounds, smiling at folks who kept looking at her like they ought to know her but couldn’t quite place her.

For now, she didn’t go out of her way to introduce herself. She was content for the moment to let the memories pour over her, memories of other fairs here in Darby, fairs she, Kelly, Janelle and Pam had attended as girls.

Long, banquet-style tables draped with paper cloths were set up in the middle of a makeshift food court where booths emanated wonderful scents of both American and ethnic fare. The lights on the huge Ferris wheel lit the sky with neon colors. Screaming children rocked the top gondolas as the wheel slowly stopped and started, loading and unloading riders. Calliope music from the carousel vied with the dings and bangs of ringtoss and shooting booths. The Octopus and Tilt-a-whirl had long lines of children and adults waiting their turn to become walking candidates for chiropractic healthcare.

Off in the distance, the clack of roller-coaster cars climbing the grade then speeding around dips and curves called to her.

Penny loved roller coasters. She loved danger. The faster and scarier, the better.

Tossing her cotton candy cone in a trash barrel, she stopped at one of the food booths and ordered a beer.

“Hello stranger.”

Penny jolted and nearly spilled the paper cup of beer.

Joe, wearing his hat and an apron over his uniform shirt was serving up barbecue spareribs, slaw and corn.

His gaze raked her from head to foot, his eyes alight with pure male appreciation. “I saw the cotton candy. Did you decide it’s time for dinner, now?”

Penny made a deliberate effort to steady her nerves. “Hey, life’s short. We should all eat dessert first.”

“And keep a body like that?”

“Good genes,” she said and felt a pang. She didn’t come from good genes. In fact, there was a horrible, secret flaw in hers. But she wasn’t going to think about that now. “I thought you’d be out keeping the peace. How’d you end up with barbecue duty?”

“The mayor roped me into it. Said it was goodwill.”

“Doggone mayor must be some persuasive guy. Just talks you into all sorts of things, huh?”

“Seems that way.” His grin was that of a good sport. No one looking at Joe Colter would ever make the mistake of thinking he was a man who could be pushed around. He made his own choices. Perhaps some of them were governed by the wants and needs of others, but ultimately, it was his decision. “You here alone?”

“Yes. I’m looking for some friends.”

“Kelly, Pam and Janelle.”

She raised her brows. “Is there anything that gets by you?”

“Not much.” He pointed with his industrial size spatula. “Table over there in the corner by the pizza stand. They just got here a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks. I’ll go join them.”

“Want a plate of ribs to go?”

“Sure.” She unsnapped the small purse clipped to her belt, reached for her wallet.

“On the house,” Joe said.

“Whose house?”

“Mine. I donated the beef.”

“Isn’t the money going to a charity?”

“Yes. A women’s shelter.”

“Then—”

“Take the plate, Archer. I’ll donate a few extra bucks just in your honor.”

She grinned and put away her wallet, accepting the paper plate he held out to her. “Such a deal. The shelter and I thank you.”

With her heart still pumping over unexpectedly seeing Joe and trying her best to hide the trembling in her hands, she turned and wove her way through the tables.

Joe Colter was definitely going to be a distraction while she was here.

When she got to her friends’ table, she simply grinned, nodded and sat down to eat. Pam was mopping up spilled coke, Janelle was trying and failing to tie a suitable bow in her daughter’s hair, and Kelly was at war with her sons. Penny was thoroughly entertained.

“Please, mommy. I want to do the Thunder Rider,” ten-year-old Justin complained.

“Me, too,” Kevin said, putting his hands on his hips.

Penny licked her fingers and gave the little boy a wink. “Tough guy.”

“We already talked about this, boys,” Kelly said. “No big rides tonight. Daddy’s not coming until later and there’s nobody to go with you. Besides, you’ve just eaten. You’ll get sick.”

“No we won’t.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Penny butted in. “No, we won’t.”

Kelly glared at her. “Real cute, girlfriend.”

“Do you object to the ride for safety reasons, or do you just not want the boys to go alone?”

“The rides are safe—they’ve ridden them every single night for the past three nights. I just don’t like them to go alone.”

“Then, I’ll take them.”

“You just ate half a plate of barbecue.”

“So?”

“Yeah, so?” Justin and Kevin chimed in.

“Fine,” Kelly said. “It’s your stomach and whiplash.”

Penny grinned. “My stomach’s cast iron. Who’s going on Thunder Rider?”

A chorus of “me” sounded.

AS IT TURNED OUT, Penny ended up with Kelly’s two boys, Justin and Kevin, and one of Pam’s sons, Kyle. Steven was too young, Pam said, and earned herself a four-year-old with heartbroken tears tracking down his face.

“Honestly, Steven,” Pam admonished. “We’ve been through this every night.”

“But I’m older tonight.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Penny said only loud enough for Pam to hear. She knelt down in front of little Steven. “How are you at target practice, buddy?”

He sniffed and shrugged, but his round blue eyes brightened.

“Tell you what. Soon as we get back, I’ll take you over to the shoot-’em-up booth and we’ll win the biggest prize they’ve got. Okay?”

“’Kay.” Steven shot his brother and friends a “so there” look and everyone ended up happy.

“What about you, Lindsey?” Penny asked. “Want to come?”

“I’ll stay with Steven,” she said quietly. Shyly. Something about this child spoke to Penny. Lindsey reminded Penny a lot of herself at that age. Quiet and withdrawn.

Don’t act ugly, Penny, or your crazy mother will act even uglier. And then what, huh? Everyone will know just what hideous stock you come from.

She shook off the memory, passed a hand over Lindsey’s straight-as-a-board hair. “Promise to ride on the Ferris wheel with me? We can take Steven on that one, what do you say?”

Lindsey’s eyes came instantly alive, then she composed herself quickly. “Yes, ma’am. I’d like that.”

Penny met Janelle’s gaze. Sadness was there, a parent’s heartache when she knew the cause of hurt and was trying her best to fix it, but couldn’t seem to make a lot of headway.

“She’ll snap out of it,” Penny said to Janelle as she walked past. “Though I could clobber you for teaching her such good manners. I hate being called ma’am. Come on guys.”

After a turn on the Octopus, the Tilt-a-Whirl and two passes on Thunder Rider, Penny rendezvoused with Lindsey and Steven for the promised ride on the Ferris wheel and trip to the shooting booth. The kids were treating her like a favored aunt they’d known all their lives and Penny was having a ball.

Now, watching them as their energy wound down and as her girlfriends danced with their husbands who’d finally shown up, Penny felt something inside her crack with longing. She was thirty-four years old and the ticking of her biological clock was nearly deafening.

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