Three Little Words

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.