Can first love turn into the real deal? Anything can happen in a sizzling new Fool’s Gold story from New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery.

Isabel Beebe thinks she’s cursed in the romance department. Her teenage crush, Ford Hendrix, ignored all her letters. Her husband left her for another…man. So Isabel has come home to dust off her passion for fashion and run the family bridal shop until her parents are ready to sell it. Then she’ll pursue her real dreams. At least, that’s the plan, until sexy, charming Ford returns and leaves her feeling fourteen all over again…..

Seeing Isabel all grown-up hits bodyguard trainer Ford like a sucker punch. Back when heartbreak made him join the military, her sweet letters kept him sane. Now he can’t take his eyes—or his lips—off her. The man who gave up on love has a reason to stay in Fool’s Gold forever—if three little words can convince Isabel to do the same.

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.” One of the Top 10 Romances of 2011!

—Booklist on Only Mine

“Mallery’s prose is luscious and provocative.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Susan Mallery’s gift for writing humor and tenderness make 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

Three Little Words

Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To Jenel, my amazing assistant, without whom I would be lost. Seriously. You keep me organized and together. You handle all the crazy stuff that comes with the writing world so I can lose myself in my stories. Without you there would be a lot less magic in Fool’s Gold and very likely one less book a year. Thank you for all that you do.

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Excerpt

DEAR FORD, I can’t believe my sister was stupid enough to cheat on you with your best friend two weeks before your wedding. With you joining the navy so suddenly, I didn’t get a chance to confess in person. I know I’m only fourteen, but I love you. I’ll love you forever and write you every day. Or at least once a week. I cried and cried when you left. Maeve wasn’t happy. She said I was making a scene. I got right in her face and told her she was a bitch for cheating on you. Then I got in trouble for swearing at my sister. But I don’t care. I wish you didn’t have to leave. I really will love you forever, Ford. I promise. Stay safe, okay?

Dear Ford, I’m going to the prom! I know I’m just a sophomore, but Warren asked me and I said yes. My mom is practically more excited than me. We’re going to San Francisco to buy a dress. My grandmother offered me one of the bridesmaid dresses from her store. OMG. As if. But Mom was cool and said we could get something from one of the big department stores. Yay! I’ll send a picture of me in the dress. Stay safe, okay?

Dear Ford, I know I haven’t written in a while. It was too awful. Prom, I mean. Warren wasn’t who I thought and he got drunk. He and his friends had hotel rooms. I thought we were going to a party, you know, but that’s not what he had in mind. He said he thought I understood. What is it with guys and sex? Explain it to me, please. Not that you ever write me back, but if you ever do. I kicked him like Dad taught me and then he threw up on my dress, which made me throw up. I wish you’d been here to take me to the dance. Stay safe, okay?

Dear Ford, I’m sorry I haven’t written again for so long. My grandma died. She wasn’t sick or anything. Just one day, she didn’t wake up. I can’t seem to stop crying. I miss her so much. Mom is sad and it’s really hard. I’m trying to be there for my mom, doing my chores and cooking dinner a couple of nights a week. Sometimes, when I’m having fun with my friends, I feel guilty. Like I’m never supposed to smile again. Dad took me out to lunch and said it was okay for me to be a teenager. I wish I knew that was true. I hope you’re okay out there. I worry about you, you know.

Dear Ford, I’m graduating. I’m enclosing a picture because, I don’t know. Is it weird that I write? You never answer, and that’s okay. I don’t even know if you read these letters. But it’s what I do because, in a way, I still miss you. Writing you has become this thing I do. Anyway, I’m going to UCLA. I’m set to major in marketing. Mom keeps pushing accounting, but with my math skills, we all know that’s not going to happen. I’m excited and happy, except I still miss my grandma. Are you in Iraq? Sometimes when I hear the news on TV about the war, I wonder where you are.

Dear Ford, I love college. I’m just saying. Westwood is completely amazing and wonderful and we go to the beach most weekends. I’m dating a surfer. Billy. He’s teaching me to surf. I’m not going to class as much as I should, but I’ll make it up soon. I got highlights and I’m tan and this is the coolest my life has ever been. I love everything. I hope all is well over there, too.

Dear Ford, Fool’s Gold Community College isn’t so bad. I miss my friends and Westwood, but this is okay, too. My parents still aren’t speaking to me except for the long conversations every week about how disappointed they are with me, that I wasn’t mature enough to handle UCLA. I feel really bad about being so stupid and irresponsible, but me saying that doesn’t stop the lectures. Still, I know I deserve them. Billy broke up with me a couple of weeks ago. I’m not surprised. He wasn’t exactly long-term boyfriend material. I’m going to pay attention to my classes and work on being more mature. Sometimes I think about you going off to war around my age. That must have been incredibly hard. I’m still learning how to stand on my own two feet. Thinking of you and hoping you’re well and staying safe.

Dear Ford, I have a job in NYC. Can you believe it? A marketing job. Do you know how many marketing students graduate every year? Like a million and there are maybe two jobs and I got one of them! Me! Mom and I are going to find me an apartment. I’ve been looking online and basically what I can afford is about two hundred square feet with a toilet. But I don’t care. It’s New York. I’m really doing it. Little Isabel from Fool’s Gold is going to the Big Apple. By the way, do you know why they call New York that? Why is it like an apple? I’m not sure you’re even getting these letters, but I wanted to tell you the good news. Maybe someday when you’re back in the States you’ll come visit me. Dear Ford, Sorry I haven’t written in so long. I’ve been crazy busy. We’re working on a campaign for a new tequila brand. We’ve teamed them up with MTV and I’m involved. It’s really exciting. I’m meeting all kinds of people and I even get to go to the MTV Awards! I love New York and I love my job, even though dating here is as dismal as I heard it would be. Too many single girls. But I’m not desperate. I love my work and if a guy doesn’t treat me right, then I walk away. Hey, look—I finally grew up. I saw your mom last time I was home and she says you’re okay. I’m glad. Fleet Week was last month and I thought of you. Hope you’re staying safe, Ford.

Dear Ford, Eric is the guy I told you about before. He works on Wall Street and is very cute and funny. Smart, too. One of his friends hinted that he’s about to ask me to marry him, which is exciting, of course. The thing is, he doesn’t know that I write you. I know, I know, you never answer and it’s more like writing my diary, only I think I need to stop. Because when I write you, I’m not just writing a diary entry. I’m wondering who you are and what you’re like now. It’s been forever. Ten years. Maeve is still popping out babies every couple of years. I’m sure you’re over her. At least, I hope you are. I know you’re still serving our country. No one knows what you do, but I can’t help thinking you’re in danger sometimes. I’m not that fourteen-year-old kid who swore she would love you forever anymore, but as silly as it sounds, you’ll always have a piece of my heart. Take care, Ford. Goodbye.

CHAPTER ONE

“DEATH BY LACE and tulle,” Isabel Beebe said as she waved the nozzle of the steamer.

“I’m so sorry,” Madeline told her, then winced as she studied the front of the wedding gown.

“Brides-to-be are determined.” Isabel lifted up the front layers of the white dress and carefully clipped them to the portable clothesline in the back room of the boutique. With a dress like this—multiple layers of flowing chiffon—she would start on the inside and work her way out.

Isabel focused the steam on the wrinkles. An excited bride had wanted to find out if her potential wedding dress was comfortable to sit in. So she’d sat. For half an hour while on the phone with a girlfriend. Now the sample had to be steamed back into perfection for the next interested customer.

“Should I stop them next time?” Madeline asked.

Isabel shook her head. “Would that we could. But no. Brides are fragile and emotional. As long as they’re not tossing paint on the dresses or reaching for scissors, let them sit, twirl and dance away. We are here to serve.”

She showed Madeline how to hold the chiffon so the steam flowed through evenly and then explained about the layers and the time to let the dress cool and dry before being put back with the other sample dresses.

“It helps if you think of each wedding gown as a very delicate princess,” Isabel said with a grin. “From a family with a lot of inbreeding. At any second, there could be disaster. We’re here to keep that from happening.”

Madeline had only been working at Paper Moon Wedding Gowns for three weeks, but Isabel already liked her. She showed up early for her shift and was endlessly patient with the brides and their mothers.

Isabel passed over the steamer. “Your turn.”

She watched until she was sure Madeline knew what she was doing, then returned to the front of the store. She replaced sample shoes, straightened a couple of veils, then gave in to the inevitable and admitted she was stalling. What had to be done had to be done. Putting it off wouldn’t change reality. Oh, but how she wanted it to.

After sucking in a breath for strength, she went into the small office, grabbed her purse and stepped into the workroom and smiled at Madeline. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay. See you then.”

Isabel left the shop and walked purposefully to her car. Fool’s Gold was small enough that she generally walked everywhere, but her current destination was just far enough to warrant a car. That and the fact that driving meant a faster and cleaner getaway. If things went badly, she didn’t want to have to run like a frightened bunny. Not that she could in her four-inch heels, but still. With a car, there might be a spray of gravel and she could disappear in a cloud of dust, like in the movies.

“Things are not going to go badly,” she told herself. “Things are going to go great. I’m visualizing greatness.” She nearly closed her eyes, then remembered she was driving. “I’m wearing my tiara of greatness even as I turn.”

She went left on Eighth Street, then right, and before she was ready, she found herself driving into the parking lot of CDS.

Cerberus Defense Sector was the new security firm in town. They trained bodyguards and offered classes in self-defense and other manly things. Isabel wasn’t clear on the details. She found that she and exercise had a much better relationship if they avoided each other.

She parked next to a wicked-looking muscle car from maybe the 1960s, a large black Jeep tragically painted with flames and a monster Harley. Her Prius looked desperately out of place. Not to mention small.

Now that she wasn’t driving, it was safe for her to close her eyes. She did and tried to visualize, but her stomach was churning too much for her to do much more than worry about throwing up.

“This is stupid!” she announced and opened her eyes. “I can do it. I can have a reasonable conversation with an old friend.”

Only Ford Hendrix wasn’t an old friend and the talk was going to be about how, despite her vow to love him forever, the ten years she’d spent writing him, not to mention the pictures she’d sent, he had no reason to be afraid of her. Because she thought that he might be. Just a little.

She doubted it was anything he would admit. The man had been a SEAL. She knew that, in addition, he’d been part of a special joint task force that had been even more dangerous. She also knew he’d returned to Fool’s Gold nearly three months ago, and in all that time, they’d managed to avoid each other. But that wasn’t possible anymore.

“I am not a stalker,” she said, then groaned. Bad way to start a conversation. And not one designed to get him to believe her.

“Whatever,” she muttered and got out of her car.

She paused to smooth the front of her black dress. It was fitted without being tight and skimmed all the lumpy bits. As much as she loved clothes, a reasonable person might assume she would be obsessed with working out to fit into designer samples. But for Isabel, the call of the cookie was hard to ignore. So she was really good at draping her curves and still looking stylish. Or so she told herself.

She adjusted her sleeves, paused to brush off a bit of dust from her shoes and then prepared to face the lion in his den. Or warrior in his cave. Whichever.

She walked into CDS. No one sat at the reception desk, so she started down the hall toward the sound of music and a weird thumping noise. She saw double doors standing open and stepped through them into the biggest workout room she’d ever seen.

The ceiling had to be thirty feet high. Ropes hung from beams at one end of the room. There were all kinds of scary-looking exercise machines, boxing bags and other weights and equipment she couldn’t name. In the center of the room a petite woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail was fighting a much larger man. Fighting him and maybe even winning.

They both wore protective headgear and had tape around their hands. It took her a second to recognize her friend Consuelo Ly as the woman.

Isabel watched as Consuelo swung out her leg. The guy moved, but not quick enough. Her heel caught him behind the knee and down he went. Isabel winced, but then the guy was up faster than she would have thought possible and he had the woman in a headlock. Consuelo flailed around, trying to kick him or punch him. Her elbow connected with his midsection. He grunted but didn’t let go.

“You two know what you’re doing, right?” Isabel asked. “Is someone going to get hurt? Should I call nine-one-one?”

The man turned toward her. Consuelo didn’t. One second he was standing, then next he was flat on his back and she had her foot pressed against his throat.

“Sucker,” the woman said and pulled off her protective headgear. She glared at her victim. “Are you that stupid on a mission?”

“Not usually.”

She held out her hand. The guy took it and she pulled him to his feet. Consuelo turned to Isabel.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

“I didn’t mean to be a distraction,” Isabel said. “You’re so small and he’s so...”

The man removed his headgear and turned to her. Isabel felt her mouth go dry, which was a much better reaction than the sudden flipping going on in her stomach. She had a feeling she’d gone either pale or red and kind of hoped for the former. It would be less embarrassing.

The man—all six feet of muscles in a T-shirt and sweatpants—was just as handsome as she remembered. His eyes were just as dark, his hair as thick. Fourteen years away had no doubt changed Ford Hendrix on the inside, but on the outside, he was better than ever.

She still remembered him standing in her parents’ living room, confronting her sister. Isabel had been told to stay in her room, but she’d crept out to listen. She remembered crouching in the hall, crying as the man she’d loved as much as her fourteen-year-old heart could allow had asked why Maeve had cheated on him and if she really loved Leonard.

Maeve had cried, too, and apologized, but said it was all true. That she was ending things with Ford, that she should have ended them weeks before. As their wedding was in less than ten days, Isabel couldn’t help agreeing. There’d been more fighting—mostly yelling on his part—then he’d stalked out.

Isabel had run after him, begging him not to go. He’d ignored her, had kept on walking. Two days later, he’d joined the navy and left Fool’s Gold. She’d declared her love in an endless stream of letters but had never come face-to-face with him again until this second.

As an aside, he hadn’t answered her letters. Not a single one.

“Hello, Ford,” she said.

“Isabel.”

Consuelo glanced between the two of them. “Okay,” she said at last. “I’m sensing tension. I’m outta here.”

Isabel shook her head slightly to try to clear her brain. “No tension. I’m tension free. I’m practically a noodle.” She pressed her lips together. Was it possible for that statement to sound more stupid? A noodle?

Consuelo gave her a look that clearly stated she thought Isabel should investigate a local mental health clinic, grabbed two towels from a stack by the mats, tossed one to Ford and walked out.

Ford wiped his face, then draped the towel over one shoulder. “What brings you here?”

An excellent question. “I thought we should talk. What with our new living arrangements.”

A single dark eyebrow rose. “Living arrangements?”

“Yes. As of last week, you’re renting the apartment over my parents’ garage. I haven’t seen you coming and going and I thought maybe it was because you were avoiding me.”

She drew in a breath. “I’m back in Fool’s Gold for a few months to manage my parents’ store while they’re traveling. They want to sell Paper Moon and I’m helping update the inventory and maybe the interior. As I’m only here temporarily and they’re on their world tour, it made sense for me to stay in the house. So I guess I’m house-sitting, too.”

Because house-sitting sounded better than being twenty-eight years old and moving back into her parents’ house.

“They told me they’d rented out the apartment above the garage but didn’t say to whom. I just found out it was to you, which is nice because you’re not a serial killer and I don’t want to live next to one.”

The other eyebrow rose as his expression changed from mild interest to confusion. Probably time for her to get to the point.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m not fourteen anymore. I’m not that crazy kid who swore she was in love with you. I’ve moved on and you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His eyebrows relaxed and one corner of his mouth turned up. “I wasn’t afraid.”

His voice was confident, his half smile sexy, and he looked better than any guy ever had in the history of the universe. She was sure of it. Because even as she stood there, nerves all over her body were whispering about the man so tantalizingly close. As a rule, she wasn’t one who believed in instant attraction. She had always thought that sexual interest required a meeting of the minds before there was any body-to-body contact. In this case, she might very well be wrong.

“That’s good,” she said slowly. “I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker. I’m not. I’m totally over you.”

“Damn.”

She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

The half smile turned into a grin. “I was the only guy in my unit to have a stalker. It made me famous.”

She felt instant heat on her cheeks and knew she was blushing. “No,” she breathed. “You didn’t tell people about my letters.”

The smile faded. “No, I didn’t.”

Thank God! “But you got them?”

“Yeah. I got them.”

And? And? Had he read them? Liked them? Considered them the least bit meaningful?

She waited, but he didn’t say anything.

“Okay, then,” she murmured. “So we’re clear. You’re, um, safe around me and you’re not avoiding me or anything.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’re not avoiding me?”

“Yes.”

Was it her or was he difficult to talk to? “I’m glad we got that cleared up. The apartment is okay? I checked it before you moved in. Not that I knew who you were, which was weird. Although now that I think about it, I wonder if my parents didn’t tell me on purpose. Because of...before.”

“You mean your promise to love me forever? The promise you broke?” He said the last part with a smirk.

“It wasn’t a real promise,” she protested.

“It was to me.”

She saw the amusement in his dark eyes. “Oh, please. You barely knew who I was. You were desperately in love with my sister and she—”

Isabel slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” He moved toward her. “I got over Maeve a lot faster than I should have. She might not have handled it all that great, but she made the right decision for both of us.”

“You’re not still in love with her?”

“Nope.” He hesitated, as if he were going to say more, then grabbed the towel and pulled it off his shoulder. “Anything else? I need to shower.”

Want help?

She was reasonably confident she didn’t ask the question out loud, but that didn’t make the inquiry any less sincere. She would bet Ford looked great in a shower. All wet and soapy. And, um, well, naked. Which was really strange, because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d speculated about a man’s body. She just wasn’t that interested in the whole naked-sex thing. She preferred quiet conversation to passion, and cuddling to groping. Of course, that went a long way toward explaining what had gone wrong between her and her ex.

“Interesting journey,” Ford said.

“Excuse me?”

“You went from imagining me naked to some other place.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t imagine you...that way. What are you saying? I’d never do that.” Heat burned hot and bright on her cheeks. “That would be rude.”

The sexy smile returned. “So’s lying. Don’t sweat it. I’ll take the compliment in the spirit you meant it.” He raised one shoulder. “It’s the danger. Knowing I’m a dark, dangerous guy makes me irresistible.”

The Ford she remembered had been funny and charming and flirty, but he’d been a kid from a small town. Untested. Unchallenged.

The man in front of her had been honed by war. He was still charming, but he was also right about his appeal. There was something indefinable that made her both want to follow him into the shower and take off running.

She managed to swallow. “You’re saying women want you?”

“All the time.”

“How that must annoy you.”

“I’m used to it. Mostly I consider taking care of them my patriotic duty.”

She felt her mouth drop open. “Your duty?”

“Patriotic duty. It would be un-American to leave a woman in need.”

Her gaze narrowed. So much for having to worry that Ford was uncomfortable around her. Or that her letters had bothered him. No doubt he’d considered them his God-given right.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said. “I’m over you.”

“You mentioned that. You’re not going to love me forever. It’s disappointing.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I don’t know. I’m surprisingly sensitive.”

“Oh, please. Like I believe that.”

He winced. “You’re mocking a hero?”

“With every fiber of my being.”

“Better not let my mother hear that. She’s still trying to convince me to let the town hold a parade in my honor. She wouldn’t like knowing you’re not appreciative of my personal sacrifice.”

“This would be the same mother who took a booth at the Fourth of July festival so she could find you a wife?”

For the first time since she’d walked into the gym, Isabel saw a flicker of discomfort in Ford’s steady gaze.

“That would be the one,” he murmured. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“She was taking applications.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that.” He shifted and turned his head, as if searching for an exit.

Now it was her turn to smile. “Not so big and bad when it comes to your mother, are you?”

He swore under his breath. “Yeah, well, so sue me. I can’t help it. She’s my mom. Can you stand up to yours?”

“No,” she admitted. “But mine is half a world away, so I can pretend to be tough.”

“So could I, when I was on another continent. Now I’m back.”

She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said impulsively. “You stop talking about how you seduce women in the name of being a good soldier, and I won’t bring up your mother.”

“Done.”

They looked at each other. Isabel was still conscious of his strength and chiseled good looks, but she was a lot less nervous now. Maybe because she’d figured out his weakness. That knowledge would keep the playing field even.

“So we’re good?” she asked. “The letters, my sister, your mother, all of it?”

He nodded. “The best.” His gaze sharpened. “You didn’t apply, did you?”

She grinned. “To be your wife? No, I didn’t. Technically, I wasn’t qualified. What with me not staying in town permanently.”

“Lucky you.”

She pretended concern. “Oh, Ford, don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll find someone for you. A nice girl who appreciates your giving nature.”

“Very funny.” He paused and the grin returned. “About that shower...”

“Thanks, but no.”

She waved and started for the door. The meeting hadn’t gone at all like what she’d imagined, but she was leaving with the belief that Ford wouldn’t avoid her in the future. Assuming he ever had. And she didn’t have to worry that he thought she was stalking him.

She stepped into the hallway. Consuelo walked out of the locker room, a gym bag in one hand, her car keys in another.

“You two finished?” her friend asked.

“Order is restored.”

Consuelo was one of those petite women who always made Isabel feel as if she were all arms and legs, with massive boat-long feet. The fact that Consuelo could easily wrestle an alligator into submission should have helped Isabel feel more feminine, but oddly it didn’t. Maybe it was because on Consuelo, muscles looked sexy.

“Should I believe you?” Consuelo asked. “You’ve been avoiding Ford for most of the summer.”

“I know and it was silly of me. I should have talked with him before.”

“Uh-huh.” Consuelo sighed. “You’re not going to start following him around now, are you? Women tend to do that. They also show up in his bed without an invitation. Not that he usually sends them away.”

“I heard about that. Not the women, but that it’s his patriotic duty to satisfy them.”

“You don’t sound upset.”

“I’m not. The guy I had a crush on wasn’t this Ford. He was sweet and funny and caring. This more mature version is all that and sexy, too.”

Consuelo waited.

“Not my type,” Isabel said. “Too flashy. I like quiet guys who are thoughtful and smart. The whole sexual-attraction thing is highly overrated.”

Except for the chance at seeing Ford in the shower, she thought briefly. That would be exciting. But she was sure her interest was more about curiosity than temptation.

“You’ve had sex, right?” Consuelo asked. “More than once?”

“Of course. I was married. It’s fine.” Sort of. “But I don’t see it as a driving force in my life. Ford’s the fling guy and I’m not a fling girl. Not that he was asking.”

Consuelo looked her over. “He would have been. Eventually. He might not be your type, but you’re sure his.”

“He likes blondes?”

Consuelo’s mouth twisted. “He likes women.”

Isabel had friends in New York who were all about the thrill of the chase. Sex was important to them, which was fine. But she was different. She wanted someone she could talk to. Someone she could hang out with. Which was probably why she’d ended up with Eric, she thought sadly. They got along great, had the same interests. Their relationship had been one incredible friendship. Unfortunately, they’d both mistaken it for more.

“I have to get back to work,” Isabel said. “I have two brides coming in this afternoon to try on gowns. Let’s have lunch this week.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

FORD HENDRIX COULD disappear into the mountains of Afghanistan for months at a time. He could live within a mile of a village and no one would guess he’d ever been there. He’d traveled the world for his country, fought, killed and been wounded. More than once, he’d stared down death and won. But nothing in his fourteen-year career with the military had prepared him to have to deal with the determined, stubborn woman that was his mother.

“Are you dating?” Denise Hendrix asked as she filled a mug with fresh coffee and handed it to him.

It was barely six in the morning. Normally Ford would have been up and heading for work, but he was a civilian now and starting his day at O-dark-thirty was no longer necessary. He’d stumbled into his kitchen, only to find his mother had shown up and started coffee. Without warning.

He glanced around the small furnished upstairs apartment he’d rented and tried to make sense of it all.

“Mom, did I give you a key?”

His mother smiled and took a second mug for herself, then settled at the small table in the corner. “Marian gave me keys to the apartment and the house before she and John left on their vacation. In case something happened.”

“Like you thinking I can’t make my own coffee?”

“I’m worried about you.”

He was worried, too. Worried that coming back home had been a mistake.

When he’d first arrived, he’d stayed in the family home because it had been easy. Only he’d awakened more than once to find his mother hovering. What she couldn’t possibly know was that with his military training, he didn’t react well to people hovering while he slept. Sneaking around like that was a good way to get dead.

So he’d moved out and into a house with Consuelo and Angel. Only he and Angel were too competitive for that kind of arrangement, so he’d been forced to move again. Technically, Consuelo had threatened to gut him if he didn’t, but he was going to ignore that. In a fair fight, he could take her. The problem was Consuelo didn’t fight fair.

He’d found what he thought was the perfect apartment. Close to work, quiet and away from his mother.

He sat across from the woman who had given birth to him and held out his hand.

She blinked at him. “What?”

“The key.”

Denise was in her mid-fifties. Pretty, with highlighted hair and eyes. She’d survived six kids, including triplet girls, and the death of her husband. A couple of years ago, she’d fallen in love with a guy she’d known in high school. Or maybe after. His sisters had written Ford about the romance. As far as he was concerned, his mom had been a faithful widow over a decade. If she found someone else at this stage in her life, he was happy for her.

“You mean the key to the—”

“Apartment,” he finished. “Hand it over.”

“But, Ford, I’m your mother.”

“I’ve known who you are for a while now. Mom, you can’t keep doing this. Dropping in on me. You have grandkids. Go freak them out.”

Her dark eyes filled with emotion. “But you’ve been gone for so long. You almost never came home. I had to travel to other places to see you, and you didn’t even let me do that very often.”

He wanted to point out that she was the reason why. She smothered him. He knew that of the three boys, he was the youngest, but he’d grown up a long time ago.

“Mom, I was a SEAL. I know how to take care of myself. Give me the key.”

“What if you lock yourself out? What if there’s an emergency?”

He didn’t say anything. He kept his gaze steady and determined. She was no more threatening than a Kalashnikov, and he’d faced plenty of those in his day.

“Fine,” she said, her voice small. She pulled a key from her jeans pocket and dropped it into his palm. He closed his fingers around it.

The part of him that knew his family wanted to ask if she’d made a copy. He figured he would wait to see if that turned out to be a problem. For now it was enough that she wasn’t going to pop in when he least expected her.

“You probably want me to go,” she whispered.

“Mom, don’t be a martyr. I love you. I’m home. Can’t that be enough for now?”

She sniffed, then nodded. “You’re right. I’m glad you’re home and staying in Fool’s Gold. I’ll give you a couple of days to settle in, then call. We can go to lunch or you can come over to dinner. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

She rose. He did the same. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. They headed for the door. She opened it and stepped onto the small landing at the top of the stairs. He’d nearly breathed the sweet air of freedom when she turned back to him.

“Did you get a chance to look at those files I sent you?” she asked. “There are several lovely girls.”

“Mom,” he began, his voice warning.

She faced him. “Honey, no. You’ve been on your own for too long. You need to get married and start a family. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“I love you, too,” he said, gently pushing her out the door and closing it before she could say anything else he would regret.

“I want you married, Ford,” she yelled through the closed door. “I have the applications on my computer, if you want to go through them. They’re on a spreadsheet so you can sort them by different criteria.”

She was still yelling when he reached the bedroom and closed that door, as well.

CHAPTER TWO

ISABEL TURNED HER CART down an aisle and knew a lack of inspiration would be a problem later. If she didn’t figure out what she wanted for dinner, she would be starving in a couple of hours. Ordering a pizza at eight-thirty, then eating the whole thing was very bad for her hips and thighs. Remembering that the women in her family eased toward pear-shaped as they aged, she headed for the produce section and virtuously chose a bag of salad. Great. She had salad and red wine and a very small container of ice cream. Disparate elements that did not a dinner make.

She started purposefully toward the meat section, not sure what she would do when she got there. As she turned the corner, she nearly ran into another shopper.

“Sorry,” she said automatically, only to find herself staring into a pair of dark eyes. “Ford.”

He smiled. It was the same slow, sexy smile he’d used before. The one that made it hard for her to catch her breath. Telling herself that he tossed that smile around like empty peanut shells at a ball game didn’t make her chest any less tight. Which was so very strange. She’d never been one to quiver in the presence of a man.

“Hey,” he said. He raised his basket. “Food shopping.”

“Me, too.” She glanced at the package of steaks and the six-pack of beer. “That’s your idea of dinner?”

“You have ice cream and red wine.”

“I have salad,” she said with a sniff. “That makes me virtuous.”

“It makes you a rabbit. And hungry.” The smile turned to a grin. “I saw a grill on your patio the other day. Why don’t we pool our resources?”

A tempting offer. “You want the wine and the ice cream.”

“True, but I’ll eat the salad, just to be polite.”

“Such a guy. Do you know how to use the grill? It’s big and seems complicated.”

One eyebrow rose. “I was born knowing how. It’s in my DNA.”

“Which seems like a waste of genetic material.”

Somehow they were walking. She didn’t remember making a decision about accepting his offer, but there they were, in line to pay. Five minutes later they were in the parking lot and heading to their cars.

They got to his first.

“Seriously?” she asked, staring at the black Jeep.

“It’s a classic.”

She pointed to the gold paint on the side. “It has flames. Jeeps have a long history of faithful service. Why would you torture yours like that?”

“You don’t like it? Why not? The flames are cool.”

“No. Consuelo’s car is cool. Yours is kind of embarrassing.”

“I bought it right after your sister dumped me for my best friend. I wasn’t myself.”

“That was fourteen years ago. Why haven’t you sold it?”

“I never drive it and it’s in great condition. When I decided to move back, Ethan got it ready for me.”

“Being seen near it must have humiliated him,” she teased, knowing Ford’s brother would have been happy to help. “Doesn’t Angel drive a Harley?”

Ford frowned at the mention of his business partner. “How do you know that?”

“It’s hard to miss a guy like him in black leather and driving a motorcycle in Fool’s Gold.”

“You drive a Prius,” he said. “You don’t get to make judgments.”

“You mean because I drive a safe, sensible, environmentally friendly car?”

“Logic,” he muttered. “Just like a woman.”

He helped her load her groceries, which consisted of a single bag. Something she could have handled herself. Still, it was kind of nice to have a man do that for her. Eric had supported her desire for equality, letting her lug her half of the groceries when they went shopping. Which was perfectly fair, she reminded herself. If not especially romantic.

Ford followed her home. She couldn’t escape his hideously painted Jeep in her rearview mirror. Even a broken heart was no excuse to mutilate such a hardworking vehicle.

She pulled into the driveway. He parked next to her and climbed out. “I’ll go put the beer in my refrigerator,” he said. “Then be down to start the steaks.”

“Works for me.”

She went into her house and set everything on the counter in the kitchen. The sun had dipped to the other side of the house, leaving this part mostly in shadow. She flipped on overhead lights. The oak cabinets were only a few years old and the yellow tile she remembered from her childhood had been replaced with granite.

She thought briefly about dashing into her bathroom and fluffing her appearance. After a long day at the store, she was sure she had mascara under her eyes and very flat hair. Plus, her dress was plain. Not only had she worked in New York, where wearing black was practically the law, she now had a job in a bridal gown store. It was important to look professional while never, ever outshining the bride. She had a wardrobe of simple, stylish black dresses—the “office appropriate” kind, not the LBD kind.

Not that she was looking to slip into an evening gown or anything, but still. She settled on kicking off her heels and rolling up the long sleeves of her dress. That was plenty. She was only having dinner with her neighbor. There was no reason to spruce. Besides, until a couple of days ago, his last memory of her was of a fourteen-year-old girl, chasing him down the street while sobbing and begging him not to go. After that, nearly anything would be an improvement.

She unpacked her bag and slipped the ice cream into the freezer. Setting the outdoor table took all of three minutes. She was about to tackle the salad when he returned.

“I have three messages from my mother,” he grumbled as he walked to the counter and pulled open a drawer. He dug through an assortment of can openers, measuring spoons and spatulas until he found the wine opener. Next he pulled two wineglasses from an upper cupboard shelf. “She wants to talk about the applicants.”

Isabel was more interested in how he knew his way around her kitchen. Did the man case the place while she was gone? Was he—

Maeve, she thought. He’d dated her sister for three years and had spent hours here every week. He’d often stayed for dinner and helped her sister set the table. While the kitchen had been updated, the layout was the same. Flatware was still in the top drawer by the sink, and glasses were above the dishwasher.

“Future-wife applicants?” she asked.

“That would be them.”

“Have you bothered to meet any of the women? They might be lovely.”

He gave her a look that implied the corkscrew had more intelligence than her.

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not interested in anyone who would fill out an application.”

“You’re very critical and your mother is just trying to help.”

“Are you in on this?” he demanded. “Is there a plan to torture me?”

“No. Any torture is just a happy by-product.”

“Funny. Very funny. I don’t remember you having this much attitude fourteen years ago. I liked you better then.” He poured the red wine she’d bought and passed her a glass.

“You didn’t know me then,” she reminded him. “I was your girlfriend’s little sister. You barely spoke to me.”

“We had a special relationship that didn’t require conventional communication.”

She laughed. “You’re so full of crap.”

His dark eyes crinkled with amusement. “And you’re not the first woman to tell me that.” He touched his glass to hers. “To me being idiotic enough to come home.”

“You’ll settle in and your mother will calm down.”

“I hope so. I know she’s excited about having me back, but this is ridiculous.”

Isabel thought about the time after Ford left—when she knew her heart was going to break. “You almost never came back to town. Was that because of Maeve?”

He leaned against the counter. “At first,” he admitted. “Mostly I stayed away because being around my family was too complicated. They wanted to get involved in everything—especially my mom. I became a SEAL my third year and that was intense. I couldn’t talk about what I did or tell them where I was going. I took the easy way out and avoided the situation.”

He sipped the wine. “Maeve wasn’t wrong to break up with me. When it happened I would have told you I’d miss her forever. But within a few weeks, I realized she was right. We were kids, playing at being in love. I guess she has the real thing with Leonard.”

Isabel tried to read emotion into his words. She couldn’t tell if he really didn’t mind that his ex-girlfriend had married the guy who’d come between them or not.

“They’ve been married twelve years now,” she said.

“The kids are more impressive. What’s she up to now?”

“Four with another on the way.”

He swore. “That many? I didn’t know Leonard had it in him.”

“Me, either. He’s an accountant now. He started his own company and has several impressive clients. He’s doing well.”

“With a family that big, he’d better be. How do you feel about being an aunt that many times over?”

“It can be overwhelming,” she said, which was mostly accurate. In truth, she’d been living in New York for the past six years and hadn’t been around her family all that much. She doubted Maeve’s youngest could pick her out of a lineup. She and her sister didn’t talk much, either. They’d both been busy and they didn’t have all that much in common.

Guilt poked at her, making her think she should call her sister and arrange a visit.

“You okay?” Ford asked, studying her.

“Fine. You’re not the only one with family issues.”

“Probably, but I’m the only one with a mother who set up a booth at a Fool’s Gold festival with the sole purpose of finding me and my brother wives.”

She laughed. “That you are.”

* * *

THEY PULLED TOGETHER dinner pretty quickly. In addition to the steaks, Ford had provided two russet potatoes. Isabel popped them in the microwave, then made the salad. She carried both their glasses of wine outside while he heated the grill and put on the steaks.

“You can use the grill anytime you want,” she said. “I don’t mind.”

Ford flipped the steaks, then closed the lid. “Thanks. I may take you up on that.”

“Meat good?” she asked.

He grinned. “Meat and fire. And beer.” He reached for his glass. “Or wine.”

She studied him, taking in the broad shoulders and easy smile. She searched for some hint he was still dealing with his time in the military, that he’d been scarred by all he’d seen, but there was no indication at all. If he had ghosts, they were the kind only he saw.

“Did you like being a SEAL?” she asked.

“Yeah. I liked being on a team. I also liked that we never knew what was going to happen next.”

“Certainty and variety. Two key components to happiness.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She shrugged. “I have a marketing degree, but I also have a minor in psychology. People like a sense of security. It’s hard to have fun if you’re starving or homeless. But we also like variety. Positive change engages the brain.”

“Pretty and smart. Impressive.”

She told herself he was a natural-born flirt and if she believed anything he said, she was an idiot. But that didn’t stop the tingles.

“Why did you retire?” she asked.

“The last five years I was on a joint task force. Important work, but more stressful.”

“Dangerous?”

He grinned. “Danger is my middle name.”

She smiled. “I’m sure that’s not true, and I can easily get confirmation from one of your sisters.”

“Damn small town.” He sipped his wine. “The work was intense and I was moved around a lot. The team changed. After a while it started to get to me. Justice called about CDS and I said yes.”

“Were you worried about coming home?”

“I was worried about my mother.” He grimaced. “With good reason.”

Because it would be easier if he didn’t have family or didn’t get along with his. It was hard to tell a parent no when she was as loving and supportive as Denise.

“You should send her on a cruise around the world,” she suggested. “It worked for me.”

“If only she’d go.” His dark gaze settled on her face. “What about you? You’re back because you’re divorced?”

“Uh-huh. The paperwork is final, so I’m a free woman.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Eric and I didn’t contest anything. We owned an apartment together. He bought me out, so I have that money to help start my business.”

“The one you’re starting when Paper Moon sells?”

“Right. So it’s all good.”

“No hard feelings?” he asked.

She’d told the almost-true version of the story so many times, the words came out automatically. “No. Eric’s a great guy, but we grew apart. We’re better as friends.”

He turned and checked the steaks, then flipped them again and closed the lid.

“It all sounds civilized,” he said. “Better than hating each other at the end.”

That would have required more energy than either of them had for the relationship, she thought sadly.

“I admire how you handled the situation,” Ford said.

Praise she didn’t deserve. She opened her mouth to say it was nothing, but what came out instead was “I thought everything was fine. I thought we had a great marriage. We were best friends with each other. We went to restaurants and gallery openings and estate sales on weekends. He supported my dreams and I supported his.”

Their sex life had been nonexistent, but as sex wasn’t important to her, she hadn’t minded. In a way it had been freeing to simply be herself with a man.

“I liked spending time with him,” she continued. “It was easy.” She paused. “But it wasn’t love.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Ford said quietly.

She looked at him, then away before putting her wine down on the outdoor table. She was holding the glass so tightly she was afraid she was going to break it.

“He fell in love with someone else,” she admitted, still remembering the shock when he’d told her. He’d sat her down, taken her hands in his and admitted he’d fallen in love.

“He was so excited. So happy. There was an energy I’d never seen before. I think that shocked me more than the infidelity. The enthusiasm. He’d never acted that way about me.”

“He was gay.”

She snapped her attention back to Ford and struggled to keep her mouth from falling open. “How did you know?”

“No straight guy goes to estate sales.”

She managed a strangled laugh. “Of course they do, but you’re right. He’d fallen in love with another man. He said it had never happened before, but I didn’t know if I could believe him.”

How could he not have known? How could he have lied to her for all those years? She’d been forced to grapple with the end of her marriage and worry about her health. If Eric had cheated with one person, who was to say there hadn’t been others?

All the tests had come back fine and she was able to relax about sexually transmitted diseases, but then she’d still had the end of her marriage to get through.

“I missed him,” she admitted. “We were friends and then he was gone. I had to figure out what to do next. Sonia and I had always talked about opening a store together and suddenly we were making real plans. I came here to help out my folks, earn some money and deal with everything.”

She drew in a breath. “I never saw it coming. That’s what I wrestle with. I had no clue. I mean we rarely had sex, but I figured everyone was different. He wasn’t that interested and I was good with that. Only, what if it was me?”

“If he’s gay, then it’s not you. It’s every woman.”

He watched her with friendly concern. If there was judgment, he was keeping it hidden, which she appreciated.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “He wasn’t honest with you or himself. You had no part of that.”

“I guess.”

He lightly touched her under the chin, forcing her to raise her head and meet his steady gaze. “There’s no ‘I guess’ on this.”

“What if I turned him gay?”

Ford smiled. “You didn’t.”

“You can’t know that. Maybe I was so horrible in bed he had to go be with a guy.”

“I don’t think it works that way. Isn’t sexual preference biological? Sorry to disappoint, but you don’t have that much power.”

He was being so kind, she thought. Gentle and sweet. The unexpected support made her want to lean into him. “I feel stupid. Like I should have known.”

“You trusted him, Isabel. You believed in him and he used you.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is.” The smile returned. “I’m always right.”

“Oh, please.” She felt herself start to smile back at him.

“Better,” he said, then leaned forward and lightly touched his mouth to hers.

The kiss was brief. More comfort than seduction. Even so, she felt a distinct jolt deep in her belly. She told herself it was a combination of wine—even though she’d barely had a sip—and embarrassment. No one knew the truth about Eric. She’d been too humiliated to share what had really happened. Now she wondered why she’d been so reluctant to trust the people who loved her.

“Thank you,” she said when he straightened. “For listening and not laughing.”

“Your story wasn’t funny.”

“I was thinking more of being laughed at rather than with.”

“Not my style,” he told her.

What was his style? Who was this man who drove a ridiculous vehicle and claimed to be God’s gift to women, yet offered comfort and knew the exact right thing to say?

Before she could ask, he turned away and checked on the steaks. “They’re about done,” he said.

“I’ll get the potatoes and salad.”

She walked into the house and drew in a breath. She felt better for having told the truth. As if the secret of why her marriage had ended had been weighing on her.

What she hadn’t said, what she wondered if Ford or anyone else would guess, was that the sadness she felt was for the loss of a friend. Not of a husband or a lover. She didn’t feel as if she’d ended things with her one true love. Which meant the marriage had been a fake from the beginning and somehow she’d never noticed.

* * *

FORD LEANED BACK in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. “Two more accounts,” he said, nodding at the folders on the desk.

Consuelo pushed his boots off the desk. “You’re smug. I hate smug.”

“I’m good at my job,” he corrected, then drank his coffee.

Angel’s expression turned pained. “You get the glory because you’re in sales. We’re all working just as hard.”

“Do you hear anything?” Ford asked Justice. “I’m getting a buzzing sound in my ear.”

Justice turned from his laptop and opened the folders. He glanced at the printed copies of emails, along with the signed contracts.

The workload at CDS was divided equally. Justice, who had pulled the business together, coordinated all their activities and kept everything running smoothly. Consuelo was in charge of classes and training. Angel put together custom programs for their security clients and the corporate customers, while Ford was in charge of sales.

“Don’t make trouble,” Justice said mildly as he reviewed the documents. He was tall and broad shouldered, and the only one of them wearing a suit. Ford, Angel and Consuelo had on cargo pants and T-shirts, which in Consuelo’s case was really a tank top. The influence of their military training. The clothes provided for easy movement in any situation.

“Nice,” Justice said, looking up. He turned to Angel. “I’ll touch base with the companies to find out the details of what they’re looking for. Then you can start designing the programs.”

Angel looked disgusted. “How are you doing that? You have new clients nearly every week and we’ve only been open a month.”

“Jealous? I’m good at what I do.”

“Don’t make me separate you two,” Consuelo said.

“I’ve got style, bro,” Ford said, ignoring her. “Real style.”

There were three parts to the CDS business plan. The first types of client were ones already in the security business. CDS provided advanced training for senior operatives and basic training for new hires. Most companies found it cheaper to outsource instruction.

The second source of income came from corporate clients looking for a unique team-building experience. Using the town as a selling point, Ford presented the idea of a simple series of survival exercises to grow trust in a group. Most of the corporate clients picked weeks of festivals for their dates, bringing in the employees on Monday and flying in family members to join them on Thursday. At the end, there would be a group hug and a round of “Kumbaya.” Or some crap like that.

The final source of income was from classes held for locals. Self-defense and basic exercise. It was good for the town, good for CDS, and that was all he cared about.

“You don’t have style,” Angel grumbled. “Look at that thing you drive.”

“It’s a classic.”

“It’s an embarrassment to Jeeps everywhere. The company should come take it away from you.”

His friend’s comment made him think about what Isabel had said. Which made him think about last night and the feel of his mouth on hers.

Nice. More than nice. He’d been aware of wanting to pull her close and do a lot more than kiss. Sometime while he’d been gone, his ex-girlfriend’s little sister had grown up. Now she was funny, sexy and completely off-limits. Isabel was troubled and he didn’t do troubled. She was also the commitment type, which, again, was not him. But a guy could sure dream.

“If we could get back to business,” Justice said. He went through the rest of the schedule. “Angel’s getting more work than he can handle.”

“Thanks to me.” Ford grinned. “Damn, I’m good.”

Consuelo rolled her eyes.

“Don’t ask him to help me,” Angel demanded. “Don’t even think about it.”

“You can’t design all the curriculum yourself,” Justice reminded him. “Not at the beginning when it’s all new. We’ll all help.”

“But I’ll be the most help,” Ford said.

Angel lunged for him. They tumbled to the floor, wrestling and punching each other.

Neither of them was trying very hard. If either of them put in any effort, there would be a fairly serious injury...or seven. Justice had already lectured them on not doing anything to increase their health insurance premiums.

“Are we done?” Consuelo asked.

“Apparently,” Justice said and turned back to his computer.

Angel rolled Ford a couple of times and tried to get an arm around his neck. Ford twisted and got away, only to have his friend pull him back to the mat. Consuelo grabbed her coffee and stepped over them.

At the door, she paused and looked back. “The Maá-zib Festival is coming up. The highlight is a man getting his heart cut out. I’m volunteering both of you for the sacrifice. Don’t worry about thanking me.”

CHAPTER THREE

FORD WALKED DOWN the stairs by the garage and headed to his Jeep. He glanced toward the kitchen and wondered if Isabel was up yet. It was early by civilian standards and he knew the store didn’t open until ten or eleven, so she had no reason to be. Oddly, he found himself wanting to go inside anyway, to make coffee and wait for her. An urge he couldn’t explain or justify. He guessed she would be as freaked by his unexpected arrival as he’d been by his mother’s.

There were elements about coming home that were more difficult than he’d expected. Not his mother—she was as much a pain as usual. He knew her actions were born in love, but honest to God, the woman needed a hobby. He’d seen his brothers and they were fine. Low-key. Welcoming but not so much with the hugging and worrying. His sisters were another matter and he didn’t look forward to hanging out with them.

But Isabel was different. Being around her was fun. He could relax and enjoy listening to her talk or tease her. Probably because of the letters. She’d written him for years. He’d watched her grow up, had been privy to her secrets and had slept better knowing that while he was in hell, there were still good people going about their lives.

He doubted she knew what her letters had meant to him. How her words had kept him grounded. He’d never answered, and over time, the letters had changed. They’d become more of a diary and less of a correspondence. He’d liked that part, too.

He’d laughed over the funny things and felt for her when she’d gone through life’s lessons. He’d been changing, too, and in a way, it was as if they’d gone through both together.

Seeing her was different than reading about her. Better. Three-D, grown-up Isabel was a lot more intriguing than the teen had been. She was pretty enough to tempt him but, as he’d been reminding himself, not someone he should pursue. He wasn’t a good bet romantically, and she deserved a good guy in her life. He was more the good-time type. He felt bad about her ex. That had to set a girl back. If there were—

He stopped halfway down the stairs.

Someone was standing by his Jeep. He’d seen movement and then it had stilled, as if whoever was there was trying to stay in the shadows. Ford went on alert. He reached for his sidearm, only to remember this was Fool’s Gold and he didn’t have a gun.

Not a problem. He would take out his stalker the old-fashioned way.

He continued down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. He circled the vehicle and came up behind the guy. Ford had to consciously lower his arms to his sides as he recognized the man loitering.

“Leonard?”

Leonard, all five feet eight inches of him, jumped. “Ford! You startled me.”

Leonard had dark hair and glasses. He wore slacks and a white shirt, along with a tie. Ford saw the white SUV parked on the street and guessed there was a suit jacket lying neatly in the backseat. Or worse, hung on a hanger.

Leonard held out his hand. “It’s good to see you. Welcome home.”

“Thanks.” They shook. “What are you doing here?”

Leonard pushed up his glasses. “I thought we should talk. We need to settle our differences.”

Ford held in a laugh. “It was all a long time ago, bro. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“I disagree. I was wrong to do what I did.” Leonard’s expression turned guilty. “You and Maeve were engaged. I had no right to get in the middle of that. You were my best friend.” He paused to clear his throat. “I’ve never forgiven myself for hurting you.”

Ford remembered being stunned when he’d found Maeve with Leonard. He was sure he’d been upset, but it was a long time ago. It was like recalling a movie he’d seen rather than reliving an emotional event.

“The better man won.”

“No,” Leonard said earnestly. “I’m not the better man. I can’t be until I apologize and you accept.” He squared his shoulders. “We should have told you. We should have explained we were falling in love.”

“Yeah, you should have. So you have and we’re good, right?”

Leonard shook his head. “No. That’s not enough. Maeve and I were young and foolish. You have to see that.”

“I do.” He could also see the beginnings of a headache.

“Sure, we’re married now, with four kids and another on the way, but so what? Our happy marriage doesn’t make what we did right. You deserve your pound of flesh.”

Ford sighed. “Do I have to?”

Leonard stepped closer. “Hit me.”

Ford held in a groan. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Hit me. Then we’ll be even.”

“I appreciate the offer, but get real. I’m a highly trained SEAL. You don’t want to go up against me.”

“I’m not. I’m standing here as the man who wronged you. Hit me. I can take my punishment. I deserve it.”

Ford wondered how long Leonard had been waiting for this moment, planning it. Then he realized he knew the answer. Fourteen years. He saw the determination in his friend’s eyes and figured there was no other way out of it.

“All right,” he said slowly. “If you’re sure.”

Leonard nodded and carefully removed his glasses. “I’m ready.”

Ford pulled out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Fool’s Gold nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“There’s an unconscious man on the ground. Send an ambulance.”

“Wh—”

Leonard started to speak, but that was all he got out before Ford hit him and he crashed to the ground.

* * *

KENT WALKED TOWARD the CDS building. It was a warehouse south of the convention center and east of downtown. He’d never been there before. Although he’d seen his brother Ford several times since Ford’s return, they’d always met at a restaurant, or their mom’s house.

As he entered the large building, he wasn’t thinking about his reason for being there. Instead he was mulling over his work schedule for the day. Although he had several weeks until school started, he’d already begun working on his lesson plans. This year he was determined to take his math-letes all the way to nationals. The kids worked hard and they deserved the opportunity. He was also going to be teaching a new advanced calculus class, which would challenge both him and his students.

“Kent, right?”

“Huh?” He realized he was in a hallway, with a large man standing in front of him. His gaze flickered between the cold gray eyes and the scar on the guy’s neck.

“Angel,” he said as the name came to him. “Kent Hendrix. Ford’s brother. We’ve met a couple of times.”

“Sure.” Angel shook hands with him. “Ford’s not here. There was some kind of trouble and he’s at the hospital.”

“He’s hurt?”

Angel grinned. “No. It’s the other guy.”

Which sounded like Ford, Kent thought, wishing he could be a little more like his brother. Not the fighting. He didn’t want to do whatever it was his brother had learned while in the military. But the ability to go for what he wanted, to not give a damn about convention or other people’s opinions. That would be nice.

“I’m here to see Consuelo. About my son.”

Angel’s grin turned knowing. “Right,” he said, drawing out the word. “That’s a new one.”

“New one what?”

“The kid. It’s a good story, though. Original. You might get points for that.”

Kent shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You seeing Consuelo.”

Kent wondered if the other man had taken a few too many blows to the head. “My son is taking a martial arts class with her. He wants to take more and that means he doesn’t have time for soccer. He’s been with the team for a couple of years now, so I want to make sure he’s making the right decision.”

The grin faded. “Oh. You’re really here about your kid.”

“Why else would I come here?”

Angel slapped him on the back. “You’ve never met Consuelo.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kent answered it anyway. “No. I registered Reese by phone after checking it out with Ford.”

Angel chuckled. “You need to brace yourself. She’s hot.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

He wanted to point out that he didn’t actually care about Consuelo except as her classes related to his son, but he doubted Angel would believe him.

Dating seemed impossible, he thought grimly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; it was that he didn’t trust himself to get it right. His previous marriage had been the very definition of a disaster. He’d been completely stupid and then he’d perpetuated the mistake by thinking he was still in love with his ex years after she’d left. He hadn’t been. In truth he’d been unable to accept the end of his marriage until he’d accepted the truth about his ex-wife. But finally figuring out the problem didn’t make him any less of an idiot.

“Just remember she could kill you where you stand and never blink.”

Kent wasn’t sure what blinking had to do with anything. “Does she do that often?”

Angel grinned. “Often enough.”

Kent was fairly sure he was being played, so he didn’t react. Angel led the way into the main workout room and yelled, “Consuelo. Kent Hendrix to see you. He’s Ford’s brother, so you shouldn’t kill him.”

A woman stepped out from a small office and shook her head. “What’s wrong with you? Stop saying crap like that or I swear I’ll turn you into a eunuch so fast you won’t have time to scream.”

She continued speaking, at least Kent assumed so. Her lips were moving. But he couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, and he was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing.

It wasn’t that she was beautiful. The word didn’t do her justice. Nor did hot or incredible. He was pretty sure there wasn’t a word significant enough to describe the petite, brunette goddess walking toward him.

She wore cargo pants and a tank top. Neither left anything to the imagination. Her body was the perfect combination of curves and muscles, but it was her face that captured his attention. She had large eyes and a full mouth. Her long hair seemed to move with every step. She epitomized both sex and femininity.

He felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut by a pack mule. There wasn’t a cell in his body that hadn’t noticed her, and for the first time since high school, he was terrified of getting an erection and embarrassing himself.

Angel started laughing. “Told you,” he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. He walked toward the exit, then paused to yell back, “Be gentle. He’s a civilian.”

Kent swore under his breath.

Consuelo scowled. “He’s annoying and later I’ll punish him.” She shook her head, then looked at Kent. “Hi. I’m not sure we’ve actually met. I’m Consuelo Ly.”

She held out her hand. Kent didn’t want to take it in his. Oh, he wanted to, but he was terrified about what would happen. He thought he could either grab her and try to kiss her or actually ejaculate in his pants. Neither scenario had a positive outcome.

“Kent Hendrix,” he said, then braced himself for the onslaught and shook hands with her.

The second their skin touched, he felt as if he’d been set on fire. The good news was the sudden shock of heat was so intense he wasn’t in danger of getting hard. The bad news was his brain went completely blank and he was relatively sure he’d lost the ability to speak.

“I’ve known Ford for years,” she said, releasing his fingers. She smiled. “I won’t hold that against you.”

He swore silently as the perfection of her smile cut him to the bone. The flash of teeth, the happy crinkle by her eyes, made her even more beautiful.

“Ah, thanks,” he managed.

“You’re Reese’s father, right? He’s a good kid. He has some talent. He and Carter are always trying to do more than they should. Typical for kids their age.” She flashed the smile again. “I would say for boys their age, but you might take offense at that.”

She was nice, he realized. Beautiful and nice. Talk about lethal.

He forced himself to concentrate. “Reese would like to take more classes here. Start training for a black belt. I worry he’s too young. He’s been playing soccer for years now and he’s talking about giving it up.”

Consuelo frowned. “Dumb-ass kid,” she grumbled, then winced. “Sorry. I meant, sometimes students get caught up in the initial excitement of what they’re doing and get overly enthused.”

The realization that she was human, just like everyone else, caused him to relax. He managed a full breath before saying, with pretend concern, “Did you just say ‘dumb-ass kid’?”

“I, uh...”

“Is that how you talk to my son and your other students?”

She raised her chin. “Sometimes. When they need to hear it. Look, Mr. Hendrix, this is a dangerous sport and there has to be complete discipline. I work with military experts and trained assassins. I also work with civilians and every now and then I forget who has delicate sensibilities and who doesn’t. If that gets your panties in a twist, then I’m probably not the best instructor for Reese.”

“My panties in a twist?”

She flushed. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, either.”

“Probably not.”

He folded his arms across his chest, aware that he was much taller than her. Not that it would help him in any kind of altercation. He was a math teacher and she was a... He realized he had no idea what she’d done before she’d moved to Fool’s Gold to work for CDS.

Regardless, he felt a little less out of control.

She looked up at him. “Reese is good. He’s athletic and coordinated. Does he have that incredible talent that comes along once in a generation? No. Sure, he could get his black belt and he probably will. But to give up everything else to focus on this?” She shrugged. “I’d make him wait a year and see if it’s still what he wants to do. Maybe add one more class a week. He’s a kid—he should have fun, not make a lifestyle choice.”

“I appreciate the advice.”

“It’s worth what you paid for.” She shifted on her feet. “Are you mad about what I said?”

“Will you hurt me if I say yes?”

It took her a second to realize he was kidding; then the smile returned. So did the sensation of being kicked in the gut. So much for being in control.

“I’m not good with parents,” she admitted. “I’ve gotten used to saying what I think.”

“Threatening people, and when that doesn’t work, beating the crap out of them?”

The smile broadened. “Exactly. Civilized conversation is highly overrated.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, I don’t have the freedom you do to say what I think.”

As soon as he made the statement, he saw the danger of it. Whatever connection he’d established with her was about to disintegrate like cotton candy in the rain.

She tilted her head and her layered, dark, shiny hair slipped over one shoulder. “You’re a math teacher, right?”

“In high school.”

She laughed softly and then put her hand on his forearm. He felt the heat of her touch clear down to his groin. “You’re far more brave than I could ever be. Teaching teenagers math.”

At least she hadn’t run screaming into another room. “Not just math. Algebra and geometry. Calculus.”

Her expression flashed with an emotion he couldn’t read. She withdrew her hand. “Tough gig,” she murmured.

He knew something had shifted, but he couldn’t say what. Why was she okay with him being a math teacher yet she retreated when he’d mentioned the specifics?

“I like it,” he admitted. “I like my kids and I know what they learn in my class can help them later in life. I have a special program for underachieving students. To bring them up to grade and convince them they can go to college.”

He told himself to stop talking—that he sounded like the neighborhood nerd showing off his homemade rocket.

“A worthy goal,” she said and took a step back.

A clear dismissal, he thought grimly, knowing he’d never had a chance and wondering where he’d gone so very wrong.

“I appreciate your time,” he said. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome. He’s a great kid. You’re obviously a good dad.”

Kent nodded and left. As he walked to his car, he was conscious of the irony of the situation. After years of thinking he was still desperately in love with his ex-wife, despite the fact that she’d left him, he’d finally been willing to admit the truth. That she had abandoned him and her son and he’d been a fool to marry her in the first place. Determined to get on with his life, he wanted to start dating. To find someone special and fall in love.

Just his luck the first woman to capture his attention wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

* * *

FORD STOOD IN the emergency room’s waiting area of the Fool’s Gold Hospital wondering why this kind of thing always happened to him. He’d only meant to do what Leonard asked. A friendly tap to the jaw. He’d figured the other man would drop to the ground, what with never having been in a fight in his life. He would guess Leonard’s idea of physical toughness was to wash the car without putting on gloves.

As expected, Leonard’s legs had collapsed immediately. Unfortunately, as he’d gone down, he’d hit his head on the side of the Jeep and been knocked out cold. Which meant the 9-1-1 call had been a good idea. Only Ford had meant it to be preventive, not necessary.

“There you are!”

He turned and saw a medium-height woman with blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair walking purposefully toward him. She was curvier than he remembered, and obviously pregnant, but otherwise pretty much the same. Except the last time he’d seen Maeve, she’d been in tears, and this time she looked as if she could spit fire.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “What kind of moron goes around hitting other people?”

“I—”

“Tell me he’s okay. Damn it, Ford, I can’t believe you did this.”

“He—”

“Oh, sure. Blame it on Leonard. Do you think I don’t know why he went to see you?” She poked him in the chest. “Since you’ve been back in town, you’re all he could talk about. How he wanted to apologize and make things right. It’s been fourteen years. How on earth could anyone still be holding a grudge?”

“I—”

She glared at him. “You are over what happened, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He paused to assess the truth of the statement. “Very.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. “Not that you’re not lovely.”

She shoved him back a couple of steps. For a woman of her size and pregnancy trimester, she packed a punch. “You hit him!”

“He asked me to. He insisted. I didn’t hit him that hard. He hit his head on the way down. It wasn’t my fault.” He moved back voluntarily, thinking the more room between him and Maeve, the better.

“He’s a responsible person, unlike you,” she snapped. “The father of four and a half children. Did you think of that when you tried to kill him?”

“I didn’t try to kill him. Look, Leonard came to me.”

“Yes, and I expected you to be the adult in the situation. I see that was wrong. You’re exactly who you were when you left.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

She narrowed her gaze. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair. That my husband and the father of my children is in the hospital with a concussion because of what you did.”

“He hit his head,” Ford repeated helplessly.

The door to the waiting room opened and two uniformed officers walked in. The taller of the two women moved toward him. “Ford Hendrix?” she asked.

He nodded.

“We’re going to have to take a statement.”

“Serves you right,” Maeve told him. “I hope they lock you away forever.”

She stalked off. Ford followed the police officers to a quiet corner of the waiting area and knew his life couldn’t get any worse.

Only he was wrong because, just when he was explaining what had happened, his mother arrived. She hurried over to him.

“See?” she said, her voice oddly triumphant. “None of this would have happened if you’d just gotten married like I told you.”

* * *

FORD PACED THE LENGTH of Isabel’s kitchen. She watched him move, feeling a little like watching one of the powerful cats at the zoo. She was standing close enough to sense his frustration and energy, but she didn’t have to worry about him turning on her and expecting her to be dinner.

The analogy made her smile. Now that she knew her brother-in-law was going to be fine, she could see the humor in the situation. Not that Ford had gotten there yet.

“It’s not my fault,” he muttered for maybe the thousandth time since he’d arrived. “He wanted me to hit him. He begged me.”

“Next time you shouldn’t listen.”

He turned to her. “Thanks for the news flash.”

“Hey, don’t take your temper out on me. I’m not the one who coldcocked a guy six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter. A guy who wears glasses.”

Ford groaned. “He took them off and put them in his pocket. It’s so Leonard.”

She stepped in front of him. “Look, he’s going to be fine. He explained what happened and his story matched yours. He’s not pressing charges. You’re right. It’s not your fault he hit his head.”

“Tell Maeve that.”

Isabel had heard that her sister had gone a little crazy when she’d been told what had happened.

“She and Leonard have been together a long time. She loves him. She didn’t expect her ex-fiancé to beat the crap out of him and leave him for dead.”

Ford flinched.

She grabbed him by the upper arms. “Sorry. I’m teasing. Everything is okay.”

“They’re keeping him overnight for observation.”

“A precaution.”

“Maeve is pregnant. She has four other kids.”

“I come from a long line of good breeders.”

His dark eyes remained troubled. “I could have killed him.”

“He’s going to be fine. Obviously he’s been waiting for this moment for years. You’ve given him closure and a great story. In the future, keep your bullying ways for your tough friends.”

“I know,” he muttered, then shook his head. “I thought I was making things better for Leonard. I thought...”

Not knowing what else to do, Isabel tried to pull Ford close. He was about as movable as a house, so instead she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him.

He was taller than her, broader and solid muscle. But he was also warm and in need, so she hung on, even when he just stood there.

After a couple of seconds, he put his arms around her and hugged her back. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, thinking this was nice. This was—

Without wanting to, she noticed her breasts were nestled right against his chest. And that her thighs were brushing his. She found herself getting a little tingly and thinking it would be nice if he kissed her again. Only this time, with a little passion and maybe some tongue.

The concept was so shocking she jumped back. Fortunately, Ford didn’t seem to notice her retreat or her panic.

“If you’d heard my mother,” he said, bracing his hand on the granite countertops. “She lit into me something fierce. She kept going on and on about how I needed to settle down, and if I would just get married, she could be happy. She brought up those women she’d found. She wants me to look at the applications.”

“I don’t think having a girlfriend would have stopped you from hitting Leonard.”

“Probably not. Still, it would get my mother off my back.” He turned his head and looked at her. “You’re a woman.”

She held up both hands. “Thanks for noticing, but no.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You’re leaving, so there’d be no misunderstanding between us. You wouldn’t want me to fall in love with you.”

She was pretty sure he was suggesting some kind of fake relationship, and the answer to that was a very firm “No.”

“Come on, Isabel, I’m desperate. Look at what’s happening to me.”

“You hit a guy. You did that yourself. Nothing is happening.” She made air quotes about the last word. “Leonard is fine. Do a better job of hiding from your mother. It’ll be okay.”

He straightened and turned toward her. Funny how, until right this second, she hadn’t been aware of how much Ford filled up her kitchen.

“It’s more than that,” he said, sounding defeated. “Everybody said I’d been in too long. That I would have trouble adjusting to civilian life. I didn’t believe them, but they were right.”

She wanted to stomp her foot. How was she supposed to fight against the “I’ve been off serving my country” card?

“You’re adjusting very well. This is a teeny, tiny setback.”

“And there’s my mother.”

“I’ll admit that Denise is a challenge.”

“More than a challenge.” His dark gaze settled on her face. “All this time I’ve been away, keeping you safe.”

She took a step back. “No,” she said firmly. “You’re not going to try that again.”

“Risking my life while you went to prom and got laid in college.”

She covered her ears with her hands and started to hum. He raised his voice.

“You promised to love me forever. I have proof. In writing.”

She lowered her hands. “Stop it right now.”

“You went back on your word and broke my heart.” He hung his head, as if defeated.

She stared at him. For a second she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like if he were actually speaking the truth. If he did love her, the way Leonard loved Maeve—with his entire being. Or if not Ford, then someone. Because Eric had never loved her. Not as more than a good friend.

She gathered her resolve and smiled at him. “You’re going to have to solve this another way because I’m not going to be your fake girlfriend.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m doomed.”

“So it would seem. Want a beer?”

His head came up and he grinned. “Sure.”

“And like that, he’s healed.”

“Hey, I’m a simple guy.”

CHAPTER FOUR

TWO DAYS LATER, Ford walked into Leonard’s spacious office. His friend sat behind a large desk. There was a big window behind him and bookcases on both sides. The space belonged to a successful man with plenty of money. Little Leonard had come a long way.

The man in question rose when he saw Ford and walked around his desk.

“Good to see you,” Ford told him as they shook hands.

Leonard pointed to a sofa and leather chairs opposite the window. “I appreciate you stopping by.”

When they were seated, Ford studied his friend. “You okay?”

Leonard pushed up his glasses, then touched the side of his head. “It only hurts when I breathe.” He smiled. “I’m kidding. I’m fine.”

“How’s the jaw?”

“Painful.”

Ford felt like shit. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I asked you to. I begged for it.” Leonard smiled as he spoke. “Come on, Ford. We both know I had it coming.”

“I should have said no.”

“You did the right thing. You gave me closure. I hit my head all on my own.”

“Did you tell that to Maeve?”

“More than once. She’s considering forgiving you. I wouldn’t expect a Christmas card, though.”

Ford nodded. “She was pissed at the hospital.”

“Maeve takes our relationship seriously. She’s explained she’s not ready for me to die.”

“That’s nice,” Ford said, knowing there wasn’t anyone who felt that way about him. Not romantically. If he did die, he didn’t doubt his mother would travel to the afterlife and drag him back, if she could. But the caring between a man and his wife—that was different.

He’d thought he’d loved Maeve once. Enough that he’d proposed. But after she’d ended things, he’d gotten over her faster than he should have. The other day, at the hospital, he’d felt nothing. More proof of what he’d always suspected.

He wasn’t an “in love” kind of guy. He liked women. He liked being with them and most of the time he enjoyed dating. But then they got serious and he got itchy feet. Having a woman say “Let’s take this to the next level” was the fastest way to get him gone. He would request a transfer, move on and start the whole damn process again. Unlike Leonard, who’d been with the same woman over a decade.

“You’ve got those kids,” Ford said. “Big family.”

Leonard’s shoulders went back as his expression filled with pride. “Two boys, two girls. We swore we were done and I was about to get a vasectomy when Maeve said she wanted one more. This time I’m going under the knife while she’s still recovering. That way she’ll be too distracted to stop me. Five kids is plenty.”

“Must be loud,” he said, remembering what it was like when he’d been growing up. He was one of six.

“I want to say controlled chaos,” Leonard admitted. “But it’s more uncontrolled. Maeve knows what’s going on, though. She’s terrific.”

“Still a beauty.”

“You know it.” Leonard looked at him. “I feel guilty for staying here and living my life while you were off serving. I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Ford waved away the thanks. “I took a different path. I’m glad you’re okay.”

They stood and shook hands again. “We should get together sometime,” Leonard said. “Grab a beer.”

“I’d like that.”

His friend smiled. “I know this sounds strange, but thanks for hitting me. It made things right between us. I know Maeve will never understand, but I’m hoping you do.”

Ford nodded. “We’re even, bro. Next time, don’t fall on your head.”

“Next time I’m kicking your ass.”

“Sure you are,” Ford said, holding in a grin.

* * *

CONSUELO STROLLED THROUGH the center of Fool’s Gold. The Máa-zib Festival was in full swing. Around her, booths sold everything from jewelry to Celtic music. There was a food court and later the promise of live music by the park.

She’d been in town only a few months, but she’d quickly learned that the rhythm of life here was measured by the steady parade of festivals. The obvious pun made her smile as she ducked around a family walking along the sidewalk. Every month there were at least a couple of festivals and even more around the holidays. There were tourists everywhere, but she’d met enough locals to be able to offer plenty of waves and smiles.

She was on her own today. Something she was used to, but since moving here she’d made lots of female friends. A change she appreciated. But Patience was busy working at Brew-haha and Saturdays were busy for Isabel at Paper Moon. Felicia was running the festival and Noelle had realized that her plans to open her new store—the Christmas Attic—on Labor Day weekend meant days spent unpacking stock. Consuelo had offered to help. Noelle had promised to take her up on that soon, but this weekend she wanted to be by herself to figure out where everything went.

Leaving her at loose ends, Consuelo thought. Funny how in such a short period of time she’d gotten used to hanging out with her peeps.

She turned a corner and saw a tall, dark-haired man talking to an older woman. Kent was so attractive, she thought wistfully as he bent down and kissed the older woman’s cheek. The woman turned and Consuelo recognized Denise Hendrix—Ford and Kent’s mother. Kent said something else. Denise laughed, then walked away.

Kent started down the street. Consuelo watched him go, then started following, not sure what she was going to do if she caught up with him.

Meeting him last week had been unsettling. She’d known who he was for a while. Had seen the posters his mom had put up at the festivals and thought him attractive. But what had drawn her to him had been the kindness she’d seen in his eyes. Being close to him at CDS had been both exciting and terrifying. He’d been funny and charming and she suspected he’d never once pulled a knife on anyone. She supposed most men were like that, at least for other people. She’d always found herself in more dangerous situations.

But when he’d started talking about his work, she’d known she was in over her head. The man had gone to college. He had a degree and taught math. She’d barely passed her GED. He was educated and she was a kid from the street. A girl who had grown up in a bad part of town and gone into the army to escape. Once there, she’d been tapped for covert ops—the kind that had her doing anything necessary to ferret out secrets and then escape.

She’d had sex with men she barely knew in the name of getting the job done, and sometimes, afterward, she’d killed them. Hardly Kent’s dream date.

Now, watching him, she told herself to turn away. That he could never understand and being rejected by him would hurt a whole lot more than any bullet. Yet despite knowing she was making a huge mistake, she couldn’t help walking a little faster.

She caught up with him at the corner.

“Hi,” she said, moving next to him.

He turned and saw her. His surprise was almost comical—or it would have been if she hadn’t cared so much.

“Consuelo. I didn’t see you. Are you here for the festival?”

“Yes.” Despite her pounding heart, she managed a smile. “Don’t I strike you as the festival type?”

“Sure, and women love this one. There’s a parade later, and the Máa-zib ceremonial dance. At the end, a man gets his heart cut out.”

“Are there a line of women volunteering men who have annoyed them?”

He chuckled. “Probably.” His humor faded. “Can I help you with something?”

She swore silently. Obviously he’d noticed her withdrawal the last time they’d spoken. He’d probably thought she was blowing him off.

She knew how men saw her—they liked the curves and thought she was pretty. Confidence was appealing and she moved with a combination of grace and power. All the result of thousands of hours of training and ops. She’d had plenty of invitations and knew how to shut them down without a second thought.

But Kent was different. He was an ordinary man living in a regular world. If she had to guess, she would assume he figured she was telling him she wasn’t interested.

“Consuelo?”

Right. Because he’d asked a question.

“Do you have a second?” she asked.

“Sure. Reese is hanging out with his friends today. I’ve got time. What’s up?”

There was a bench around the corner on Fourth, close to the square of upscale boutiques. She led the way, thinking no one would be sitting there right now.

She was right and she settled on one end, then angled toward him. He sat down and waited.

“I’m sorry about before. How I acted when we were talking.”

She drew in a breath. She’d never believed in being honest in a relationship. In her mind, telling the truth only led to more questions, and at some point, because of what she did for a living, she would be forced to lie. Only she wasn’t in that line of work anymore and she was tired of having to be someone else.

She liked Kent. She’d liked him from the first moment she’d seen him, earlier that summer. She’d learned to trust her gut and it told her he was worth the effort.

“You intimidated me a little.” She swallowed. “A lot,” she amended. “When you talked about the kind of math you taught. Plus, the whole college thing. You’re smart and educated and I’m not.” She forced herself not to duck her head. “I got my GED, but that’s it.”

Emotions chased across his face. He was easy to read. Disbelief followed by confusion followed by what seemed like hope.

“I teach math at a high school,” he told her. “I’m not a senior scientist at JPL.”

She was pretty sure JPL was some jet engine–space business, maybe in Southern California. “I’m not sure why that makes a difference,” she said.

“Most people don’t think teaching high school math is that big a deal.”

“I’m not most people.”

“That’s obvious.”

His voice was gentle and slightly admiring, so she guessed he meant the comment as a compliment.

“I can’t do algebra,” she admitted.

“Yeah, and you could so kick my ass.” He leaned toward her. “Seriously? I intimidate you?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

As soon as he said the words, his expression tightened. As if he regretted them.

She glanced down at the dress she’d put on. A dress! So humiliating and girlie. But she’d worn it deliberately, and she’d left her hair down after curling it. All in the hopes she would see Kent.

“I don’t come from a great neighborhood,” she told him. “I’ve spent my career in the military. I’m as good with a firearm as any sniper and I can open most combination locks in less than a minute.”

His eyes widened. “Okay. That’s impressive.”

“Maybe from the outside, but I’m nothing like you. You have a great family and a regular job. You’re a nice guy.”

“Nice guy. Great.” He turned away.

She touched his arm. “No. Nice is good. Nice is the goal.” She paused. “I thought, if you want, maybe we could get to know each other.”

Relief filled his eyes. “Yeah? Sure. That would be great.” He grinned. “What do you want to know? You’ve already heard about my family. Ford would have told you stuff.” He frowned. “Whatever he said about me when I was a kid isn’t true. You have to believe me on that.”

She laughed, relaxing just a little. “He hasn’t said anything bad.”

“I know that’s not true.” He leaned back on the bench and stretched out his arm along the back. His fingers were only a few inches from her shoulders. Were he anyone else, she would assume he was trying to touch her or make a move. She had a feeling Kent didn’t operate that way.

“What do you think about Fool’s Gold?” he asked.

“I like it a lot. I wasn’t sure at first. I’ve never been anywhere like this.”

“It’s not Afghanistan.”

“How did you know I’d been to Afghanistan?” she asked.

“I didn’t. I thought I was making a joke. Why, were you there?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say.”

He studied her for a second. “Okay. Let’s talk about this town. Festivals, tourists. Not very exciting.”

“I like that. I’m ready for calm and quiet.” She tilted her head. “Ford mentioned you’d recently moved back yourself.”

“A couple of years ago. I’d been divorced awhile and wanted a change.”

“Why a math teacher?”

His smile was self-deprecating. “I’m a nerd. I can’t help it. I like math and science, but I wasn’t brilliant enough for anything theoretical. I thought about engineering, but after a couple of classes, I knew it wasn’t my thing.” He shrugged. “I like being around kids. I like the look on their faces when they figure out something difficult.”

“You’re the teacher they’re going to remember twenty years from now,” she said.

“I hope so. You know anything about dogs?”

She smiled. “I know what they are, but I’ve never had one.”

“Carter, Reese’s friend, got a German shepherd puppy. Now Reese wants one. I’m not sure we’re ready for a puppy. We already have a dog—Fluffy.” He held up his hand. “I didn’t name her.”

Her smile broadened. “Fluffy?”

“My sister is responsible for that. Fluffy was in training to be a therapy dog, but she flunked out. We took her, but she was close to a year when we got her. Now Reese thinks it would be cool to have a puppy. I’m less sure.”

“I know Felicia is taking their puppy into the office, but it’s not a school. She has more flexibility.”

“Felicia is Carter’s stepmom, right?”

Consuelo nodded. The sky was bright blue, the air warm. Kent wore a T-shirt over jeans. Sunlight brought out hints of brown in his dark hair.

She liked the way he smiled and the shape of his mouth. She liked how he seemed to relax as they talked and the way he kept his gaze on her eyes. Okay, every now and then he checked her out, but she was okay with that. Mostly she liked that she didn’t have to try to be something other than who she was.

She wondered what would happen if she kissed him. Just leaned over and—

She drew back. What was she thinking? In Middle America, women didn’t go around kissing men they’d barely met. It didn’t work like that. There were supposed to be dates first, and the guy did the asking. She had a feeling Kent was way more traditional than she was used to and she doubted he would appreciate her taking charge.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be like everyone else. She didn’t know how, didn’t understand the rules.

She found herself wanting to hit something. An hour with a heavy bag would go a long way to making her feel better. Or maybe she could run a quick ten miles.

Not wanting to have to apologize for questionable behavior a second time, she reminded herself to smile pleasantly as she rose.

“This has been really fun,” she said, hoping she sounded genuine. “I need to, uh, go meet a friend. Enjoy the festival.”

Kent looked confused, but he stood when she did and didn’t try to stop her. “Sure. It was nice to see you.”

She walked away as quickly as she could. Her eyes burned, but she told herself it was just allergies. There was no way she was getting emotional over a man. Not now, not ever.

* * *

“YOU’RE BEING CRITICAL,” Charlie complained as she picked up a French fry.

“I’m not,” Patience told her. “I’m just saying last year was more emotional.” She turned to the rest of the table. “Last year after the parade, Annabelle was doing the special horse dance and then she was going to cut out the sacrifice’s heart. She thought it was Clay, because he’d volunteered, only it was Shane and he told her he loved her and proposed.” She glanced back at Charlie. “You just pretended to cut out Clay’s heart.”

“We kissed,” Charlie grumbled. “Fine. Hers was better.”

Isabel laughed along with everyone else. She’d missed much of the festival. Saturdays were busy at the bridal shop. She’d managed to spend a little time there on Sunday but had also wanted to catch up on the store’s books.

Noelle looked at her. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” she admitted. Mostly about Ford. The man made her insane with his suggestions. But even more annoying, now she felt guilty for telling him no.

She realized everyone was looking at her.

“About what?” Felicia asked, then bit her lower lip. “Am I not supposed to inquire? Is this one of those times when as a woman I should wait for my friend to offer the information or a time when I’m supposed to prod her into telling?”

“Wait,” Charlie said.

“Prod her,” Noelle, Consuelo and Patience said at the same time.

Felicia nodded at Charlie. “You’re outvoted.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t make me wrong.”

Isabel was both amused and frustrated by her friends. “Does anyone want to ask me my opinion?”

“Apparently not,” Felicia told her. “So what’s the problem? Your reluctance indicates it must be about a man. The only other topics about which people are reticent are money-related topics. Sometimes politics, but we don’t usually discuss...” She sighed. “Sorry. Sometimes my analytical brain gets ahead of me.”

Noelle was sitting next to her and hugged her. “I love you so much.”

“Thank you. Your support is gratifying.”

Patience looked at Isabel. “Don’t think any of this has distracted me. What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Isabel said. “Really, it’s silly.” She paused, knowing there was no way she was getting out of it. Not unless she could think of a really good lie.

“Ford wants me to be his pretend girlfriend to get his mother off his back. I told him no and now I feel guilty.”

Five pairs of eyes widened.

“I didn’t know you were seeing Ford,” Patience said.

“I’m not. We’ve talked.”

“She came to CDS,” Consuelo offered with a grin.

“Thanks for the support,” Isabel told her. “I wanted to clear the air. He’s in the apartment above the garage. I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him or anything. So we talked and it was nice. We’re friends now.”

“Have you had sex?” Charlie asked flatly.

Isabel was glad she hadn’t just taken another bite of her salad. “What? No. Of course not. We’re not dating.”

“Technically, dating isn’t required for sex,” Felicia said. “With Gideon, I...” She pressed her lips together. “Never mind.”

Patience grinned. “That’s right. You were wild with him. I was so impressed.” She turned to Isabel. “No wildness from you?”

“We’re just friends.” The brief kiss had been nice, but even though there were tingles, she wasn’t all that interested in sex. The act never lived up to the hype, and she wasn’t in the mood to be disappointed yet another time by a man.

“Didn’t you used to be in love with him?” Consuelo asked. “When you were younger?”

“I was fourteen, so no, it wasn’t love.”

“You could use him as your interim relationship,” Felicia said. “There’s extensive research on the value of having an interim relationship. It helps break the emotional bond with a long-term partner. In your case, your ex-husband.”

“She’s helpful.” Charlie picked up her burger. “I like that about her.”

“In addition,” Felicia added, “from all accounts, Ford has a reputation for being an excellent sexual partner. Over the years, several women who slept with him have expressed their approval.” She paused. “Not that I have personal experience.”

Isabel felt her mouth hanging open. Even Charlie looked a little shocked.

“It’s true,” Consuelo said with a grin. “All the ladies say he’s hot.”

“Did you...” Noelle began, then flicked her wrist. “You know.”

Consuelo shook her head. “Not my type. We worked together. I’m not interested in him that way.”

“There you go,” Patience said with a triumphant smile. “A plan and your friends’ approval.”

“I’m not sleeping with Ford!” Isabel announced, her voice a little louder than she’d planned. Patrons at other tables turned to look.

She lowered her voice. “I’m not. That’s not what this is about. He asked me to help him.”

“Be careful,” Consuelo told her. “He’s charming and sexy. Not to me, of course. I find him annoying and emotional. But other women are all over him. He tells them he doesn’t do relationships and they never believe him. They always think they’ll be the one to change him. And then he breaks their hearts.”

“I’m not interested in forever,” Isabel said firmly. “I’m leaving Fool’s Gold next year and moving back to New York.”

“So you’re fine,” Patience said with a grin. “But seriously, the fake-girlfriend thing? You need to tell him you want perks. Sexual perks.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows. “When did you get slutty?”

“Since I started sleeping with Justice.” Patience laughed. “I can’t help it. I’m so happy and he’s so amazing in bed. I want everyone to have what I have. Just not with him.”

Noelle sighed. “I want that, too. I’m ready for hot monkey sex, even if it doesn’t involve a relationship. If you don’t want Ford, tell him I’m happy to be his pretend girlfriend as long as there are perks.”

Everyone laughed. Conversation turned to sexual etiquette and then somehow moved on to Felicia’s trials of potty training the new puppy in her house. Apparently dog behavior wasn’t as predictable as the how-to books promised.

Isabel listened but didn’t participate. She felt uncomfortable—as if there was something wrong with her.

Did everyone like sex but her? Was there a secret she didn’t know? Had she been doing it wrong all this time?

With Eric, a lack of passion was understandable, but what about before? Billy had been her first time, and the back of a truck wasn’t exactly romantic, so maybe it wasn’t a surprise she hadn’t had much fun with him. There had been only a couple of guys in between, mostly because she hadn’t seen the point. The kissing was nice and the touching, but when things progressed beyond that, she lost interest.

When lunch was over, she still didn’t have an answer to what about her was different. A problem for another time, she told herself.

They all walked out and started to go their separate ways. Consuelo stopped her.

“Do you have a second?” the other woman asked.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something.”

Isabel smiled. “Honestly, I can’t think of a thing I would know that you don’t already, but go ahead. I’ll give it my best shot.”

“You grew up here. I thought you’d have insight.”

Isabel nodded. “Sure. Is this a town thing?”

Consuelo shifted her weight, then glanced around as if making sure they were alone. “Not exactly.”

Stranger and stranger, Isabel thought.

“I’m interested in someone,” Consuelo admitted.

“I’m surprised.” Isabel shook her head. “Okay, that came out wrong. I don’t mean I’m surprised you like someone. I guess I’m surprised that you think you need advice.”

“I know I’m attractive.” Consuelo glanced down. “I work out. I have all the right parts.”

“I think you’re selling yourself a little short. You’re stunning and sexy and you move like a panther.” She didn’t need a PhD in sex to understand that Consuelo had something that left other women looking as exciting as fence posts.

Maybe that was her problem, she thought. She wasn’t sexy enough. If she acted sexier, maybe she’d be sexier. Something to consider later.

“The panther thing might be the problem. I want to be seen as a woman, not a predator.” She made a fist, then relaxed her hand. “This is stupid. I can’t change who I am. When someone annoys me, I punch him out. Who am I kidding? I’m not going to be nice and normal. It’ll never work. Thanks for listening.” She started to turn away.

Isabel grabbed her arm. “Hey, wait. You can’t give up, just like that. I don’t believe you simply punch people out. I’ve been annoying and you’ve never punched me out.”

Consuelo managed a smile. “That’s different. You’re my friend.”

“But still—you have the skills to control yourself. What’s the issue with the guy?”

The real question was who was the guy? She couldn’t imagine anyone in Fool’s Gold upsetting Consuelo. The woman was always in control. Ford and Angel both jumped when she told them to. And it was pretty darned great to watch.

“We were talking and I wanted to kiss this guy,” Consuelo said. “But I remembered that guys are supposed to make the first move.”

“I’m not sure he’d mind you kissing him. He’d probably be happy.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Any—” She started to say “straight guy” only to realize that hit a little too close to home for her. “What’s he like?” she asked instead.

“He’s sweet,” Consuelo murmured, glancing at her feet, then back at Isabel. “Smart and funny. Cute. A good guy. I like him. But I’m not a soccer mom. I don’t know how to be normal. You know, like you.”

“Ordinary and boring, you mean.”

“No. The kind of woman a man wants to be with for more than sex. I don’t want to be a conquest. I want to be...”

“In a relationship?”

Consuelo nodded slowly. “He’s the first guy I’ve liked in a long time. But he’s nothing like me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Opposites attract and all that?”

Consuelo sighed. “I should just go kill something. I’ll feel better.”

“That’s certainly one solution,” Isabel said slowly, hoping her friend was kidding. “Or you could take a chance. Go out with him a couple of times. See where it leads.”

“Maybe. Is the sex different?”

“Excuse me?”

“Between normal people? Without the threat of danger or death?”

Isabel opened her mouth, then closed it. “I’m so the wrong person to ask. I’ve never had dangerous sex.”

“Right. It’s mostly indoors and in a bed.”

Except for those few experiences in Billy’s truck, yes. “You prefer it outdoors? You can ask the guy. I’m thinking he’ll be thrilled to be flexible.” This was ridiculous. Talk about the blind leading the blind. “Maybe you should ask someone else about it. Someone more adventurous.”

“I don’t want anyone else to know. You won’t say anything, will you?”

“No.” First, because she’d given her word, and second, because there wasn’t anything to say. She didn’t know who they were talking about or what Consuelo was nervous about.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you in his life,” she offered. “The next time a guy you like asks you out, say yes. If you want to kiss him, kiss him. If he reacts badly, please don’t kill him.”

Consuelo got an odd look on her face. “You’re saying I shouldn’t have sex with him and then slit his throat.”

Isabel laughed. “Probably not.”

But instead of chuckling in return, Consuelo shook her head. “I’m never going to get this right,” she muttered, before stalking away.

Isabel stared after her, not sure what on earth had just happened.

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