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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: Two of a Kind
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“Or smother you with a pillow if you get to be too much trouble.”

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

He pushed another button to start the next CD.

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

“It beats being dead.”

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

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

“I like it here.”

“You have to miss the work.”

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

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

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

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

“No, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try something from this century.”

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

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

“Tell me about it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your usual?” Felicia asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was interesting,” Charlie told her.

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

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

“Thank you. I will.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Charlie grabbed her latte and left with Dellina.

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

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

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

They placed their order and she went to work.

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

* * *

 

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

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

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

In his
house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

“I get that.”

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

“Did you make your decision?” he asked.

She nodded. “I took the job.”

“Good. You’ll like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

BOOK: Two of a Kind
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