Broken Toy [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) (8 page)

A woman, who was hugging the couple who’d entered before her, spotted her and swooped over. “Welcome! First time?”

Gabe forced a smile and nodded.

The woman extended her hand. “I’m Laura Carlton.” She pointed to where two other men were standing and talking with another couple. “That’s my husband, Rob, on the left. The other is our friend, Bill. It’s his first time, too. Come join us.”

Gabe’s original plan had been to sit by herself off in a corner where she could keep her back to a wall and observe, but the woman was already calling over to the two men to get their attention.

Terrific.

Gabe switched her purse to her right shoulder, suddenly very self-conscious of the feel of the Bersa pressing against the back of her right hip. The short-sleeved blouse she wore unbuttoned over her tank top and jeans kept the weapon from printing, but she didn’t want to risk someone brushing against her while she was standing and possibly feel it.

Laura turned back to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

She thought fast. “Ella. Ella Wolf.” Wasn’t the first time she used the last part of her first name as a pseudonym, or anglicized part of her last name during an investigation. Made it easier to remember the ruse.

You’re not here for work.

Focus!

“Ella, this is my husband, Rob Carlton.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

She shook with him. “Likewise.” The husband was dressed in what Gabe guessed to be a county paramedic uniform. Dark blue cargo pants and a dark blue, short-sleeved shirt. Light brown hair that looked like he saw a lot of sun, and soft brown eyes, Gabe wondered which end of their dynamic he was on until she realized his wife wore a necklace with a heart-shaped locket on it.

She must belong to him.

The other man…

Her instincts screamed cop. Around four inches taller than her five seven, maybe a little older than her, definitely not as in shape as the paramedic, but it looked like he was successfully managing to combat middle-aged drift in his midsection. Brown hair and hazel eyes, she realized his gaze had intently settled on her.

He held out his hand. “Ella, did you say?”

She shook with him. “Ella Wolf.”

He slowly nodded, then seemed to catch himself. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening. “My wife’s name was Ella.”

Something in his tone pulled at her. He sounded genuine. “I’m…sorry?”

Then he smiled, warming his face and tugging on her heart just a little bit more. “It’s okay.” He released her hand. “I lost her suddenly nine years ago. It’s just I don’t run into a lot of women with her name.”

Now Gabe mentally kicked herself. “We’re, ah, kind of scattered around all over.”
Oh, my god, you’re an idiot. Shut your pie hole.

She supposed that was what happened when she went too damn long without any kind of a social life.

Or friends.

Laura took over. “Since it’s her first time, I’m going to sit Ella between me and Bill,” she told her husband. “If that’s all right?”

Rob nodded. “Great. Glad you came out.”

Now she couldn’t back out without really sounding like an idiot. “Thank you. Sort of a last-minute decision.”

“You’re not the first, don’t worry. We’re an easygoing group.”

Laura led her over to a chair next to two that had been tipped forward. “Right here,” she said, smiling. “Bill’s sitting next to you, on your left. Glad you came out tonight. You won’t regret it.”

“Thank you.”
I hope she’s right.

* * * *

Bill wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what Laura was up to.

Not that he minded, but he felt a little sorry that Ella looked like she’d been caught unprepared for the sudden seating assignment.

Which was fair, because he’d been caught unprepared for her name. Yes, he’d run into a few Ellas here and there in the years since her death, but it always tweaked his guts in a painful way. Less painful as the years wore on, but it never failed to elicit the reaction.

As he settled into his chair next to her, he offered a smile he hoped put her at ease. She looked as nervous as he felt. “So, what do you do for a living, Ella?” he asked.

She’d been reaching for the glass of water at her place setting. “I, uh, no offense, I’d rather not say. Let’s just say I’ve been gainfully and continuously employed by the state of Florida for ten years, and would like to keep it that way.”

“Ah. I’m tracking. I have the same kind of job. Looks like we already have something in common.” He’d decided not to reveal to anyone he was a cop, and the people who already knew what he did for a living had agreed to keep that secret for him.

He’d feel a little more relaxed if they were in Tampa, or, say, Miami, but considering Charlotte County was only a few miles to the south, he figured it was better to hold back that little nugget of info for the sake of his privacy.

The longer they made small talk, he realized two things. One, she had something to hide, most likely attributed to her job.

The second, he was struck by how easy she was to talk to. Like they had something more deeply in common than just being at the munch.

Maybe she’s a cop.
If so, he wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to divulge much about herself. But while he wouldn’t claim to be an expert on every member of law enforcement in the area, she wasn’t someone he’d run across before, that much he could remember. Her name definitely didn’t ring a bell.

And he would have remembered her, without a doubt. She would have made an impression on him.

She sat at a little bit of an odd angle in her chair. At one point, when she leaned way forward to reach for the bread basket in the middle of the table, he spotted the telltale print of a gun in her waistband.

That immediately put him on alert. If nothing else, she had a concealed carry permit. He hoped. That wasn’t anything special, because with over a million permits issued and counting, their state was notorious for concealed carry. Hell, even Laura had one as a result of her attack.

Then again, she had said state. Some probation officers carried. Or she might be with state corrections.

But maybe that was another source of her tension. With some people, it was easy to tell when they carried because they were almost self-conscious about it. If she really was a cop, likely she wouldn’t be self-conscious about carrying. Tonight, he carried a subcompact .22 strapped to his ankle. Ballentine’s was in a good neighborhood and he didn’t feel the need to carry something larger when all he was doing was going right home after eating.

That made him lean even more strongly toward the non-cop theory. Lots of people were employed by the state in non-law-enforcement positions.

Stop it. You’re not here as a cop.

Easy to tell himself, but harder to pull off in practice.

Focus on other things, like how pretty she is.

And she was attractive. Not in a supermodel, fake kind of way, but in a natural, doesn’t-know-how-pretty-she-is kind of way. She didn’t even appear to be wearing makeup. Her long, dark brown hair hung straight down her back.

One of his personal weaknesses in a woman, and one of the first things he’d noticed about her. Didn’t look like she colored it, either, a few strands of grey here and there not detracting from her beauty, in his eyes. He liked that she had a very sweet, comfortable natural look about her despite her nerves. She also wasn’t a waif. She had beautiful curves and a gorgeous, curvy ass that…

Okay, maybe I could get into a little bit of light spanking.
Rounded, and perfectly accentuated by her jeans. In that way, she did resemble his Ella. It was hard not to think about what her flesh would feel like under his hands…

Dammit, I barely know her and I’m already having dirty thoughts about her. Maybe my libido isn’t dead after all.

By the time the room filled and Tony Daniels called for everyone’s attention to welcome the group, Bill was trying to figure out a way to ask Ella if she was going to the class on Saturday.

He was more than a little surprised to find himself hoping she was.

* * * *

Gabe wasn’t proud of the fact that she lied and told Bill she was from the Sarasota area. Technically, she was staying in Sarasota, so had come from there. She did say she was new to the area, which wasn’t a lie either, so she hoped the two evened each other out on the grand karmic scale. She didn’t like to lie in the course of her personal life. Being undercover to catch bad guys was one thing.

She far preferred not answering questions over outright lying about the answers. Especially to someone who seemed as nice as Bill. Apparently while he was new to the munch, several of the people sitting at their table seemed somewhat familiar with him.

“So how did you end up here tonight?” she asked him.

“Well, I met several of the attendees here last year through the course of my work. When they invited me, I said sure. Why not? Not like I had any other plans tonight.”

“Me, either. Other plans, I mean.”

A man from their table stood and called for everyone’s attention. “Thanks for coming tonight, everyone. We have several new people tonight. I’d like to welcome everyone to our monthly Suncoast Society munch. Our normal procedure is we go around the tables and everyone can introduce themselves, if they want to, and feel free to say a little about themselves. Or, feel free to pass.”

He pointed to the farthest table. “How about we start over there with Tilly and her guys?”

A small titter of laughter rolled through the room. Gabe got the impression it was an inside joke. A woman with long red hair smiled and stood.

“I’m Tilly, and this is Landry and Cris.”

“Who’s on top tonight?” a woman playfully called out from the other side of the room.

Another round of laughter circled the room, louder this time.

Tilly smiled. “Who do you think?”

The two seated men flanking her both pointed up at her, inciting a third round of laughter.

By the time the introductions reached their table, there were several other first-timers who’d stood and introduced themselves, some with just their name, some with more information. Gabe didn’t want to stand out by not saying anything. Fortunately, the rotation meant Bill had to stand first.

“I’m Bill,” he said. “First time here, but I know a few people. Thanks for having me. I’m still…learning.” He sat down and looked at Gabe.

She swallowed back her nerves and stood. “Hi, I’m…Ella.” She’d almost said the wrong name. “I’m also new and still learning.”

She sat, glad to be through that without interruption.

The wait staff came in to take their orders. While that happened, Laura turned to her. “You know, there’s a beginning rope bondage class this coming Saturday. It’s a great class.”

“To get to know the ropes?”

Laura grinned. “Exactly. Bill’s going.”

Gabe glanced over at him. “You are?”

He shrugged. “It looks interesting. I don’t know anything about it. I have to start somewhere and it seemed like a good idea.”

“I don’t have any rope. Just a lot of yarn,” she added.

“Oh, that’s all right,” Laura assured her. “Seth and Leah teach it, and they bring lots of extras. You know, if you go, you and Bill could team up.”

Gabe felt a tinge of nerves rush through her. She could already see where this was leading and knew she needed to put the brakes on and fast. “I’ll see. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to. How soon do I have to let them know?”

“By Thursday. The information’s on the website. The Suncoast Society blog? Just hit the e-mail link to let them know.”

Gabe nodded. She had seen something about classes on there. “Okay, thanks.”

She wasn’t sure she even wanted to do that. Tonight was likely a huge mistake. Except when her meal arrived, it was a delicious, perfectly cooked slab of prime rib, admittedly the best she’d had in years.

By the end of her meal, she felt stuffed. Between enjoying her time talking with Bill, as well as Laura, she’d made up her mind.

“You know, I think I will go to that class,” she told Bill. “I’ll clear my schedule and make sure I can go.”

“Good,” he said. “I won’t feel like a fish out of water if there’s another newbie there.” He smiled.

She thought she could get used to his smile. “Why’s that?”

“It’ll be nice knowing I’m not the only clueless one there.”

She didn’t get the feeling he was trying to pressure her. In fact, he hadn’t even asked for her phone number or e-mail address. “You don’t strike me as the clueless type.”

“Eh, when it comes to this stuff, believe me, I am.”

“Then why are you here?”

He shrugged. “Tired of fishing in the wrong ponds, and tired of being alone. After nine years, maybe it’s time to change the way I’m doing things.”

“Been eight years for me.”

“Don’t know about you,” he said, “but work gets in my way a lot.”

“Something else we have in common, then.”