Page 13

When Jo had left, Annabelle sniffed, then glanced at Isabel. “You grew up here, too, then.”

“Uh-huh. I couldn’t wait to escape.” She wrinkled her nose. “So let me be clear. My return is temporary.”

“You’re talking to Fool’s Gold converts,” Patience told her. “They won’t get that.”

“Too many people know too much about each other here,” Isabel said. “When I was a kid, I felt like I had fifteen mothers and fathers.”

Patience smiled. “She’s right. It was like that, but I didn’t mind it as much. Isabel had big dreams.”

“Where have you been living?” Charlie asked.

“New York. I was in advertising.” Isabel’s blue eyes flashed with emotion.

Patience had a feeling she was thinking about the divorce and all the changes that went with it. “Charlie was proposed to in Times Square.”

Charlie leaned back in her chair. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“It was wonderful,” Heidi said. “Charlie’s fiancé is very inventive and totally crazy about her.”

“That’s nice.” Isabel sounded wistful.

“You should give him the big wedding he wants,” Annabelle said.

“I’m not the big-wedding type.”

Patience wondered if her reluctance was because she really didn’t like big weddings or if she was uncomfortable with the whole idea of it: the feminine dress, being the center of attention. Charlie was the most capable person Patience knew, but like everyone else, she had her demons.

“It’s the dress thing,” Heidi announced, confirming what Patience thought.

Isabel studied her. “I have a great selection of gowns that would look pretty fabulous on you.”

Charlie glared at her. “I find the word gown off-putting. We’ve just met. Why aren’t I intimidating you? Most people are frightened by me when they meet me.”

“Oh, sorry.” Isabel’s grin was impish. “I’ll tremble next time.”

Charlie glanced at Patience. “Okay, I like her.”

“We have a new friend.” Annabelle looked at both of them, and her eyes filled with tears. “That’s so nice.”

Charlie covered her face with her hands. “Kill me now.”

Jo returned with the drinks, and talk turned to what was going on in town.

“Are you really selling Paper Moon?” Annabelle asked.

“Yes, but not for a while. I promised my parents I would spruce it up and we want to wait until after the wedding-season rush.”

“When’s that?” Heidi asked.

“Late fall through early March. There are a lot of engagements followed by plans for June weddings. Brides tend to order their dresses several months in advance.”

Charlie nudged Annabelle. “See? They’ll still be there for you.”

“That’s a relief.”

Heidi looked at Patience. “Do you have an opening date yet? We’re all so excited about Brew-haha.”

“A month, give or take,” Patience said, and pressed a hand to her belly. “I’m excited, too, and nervous.”

“You’re going to do great,” Charlie told her. “The location is excellent and I’ve personally inspected the building. It’s completely safe.”

Heidi leaned toward Isabel. “Charlie has this thing about fire. It’s related to her job.”

“I can hear you,” Charlie told her.

“Yes, and you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

Heidi giggled.

Charlie returned her attention to Patience. “You know we’re all here for you. Whatever you need. Are you planning a work party?”

“Yes. We have to get the remodeling finished first.”

“Let me know when it is and I’ll make sure I’m available. I can trade a shift if I have to.”

Heidi and Annabelle shared a glance.

“We’re useless,” Annabelle said.

“Not useless, but less than helpful,” Heidi added.

“Don’t sweat it,” Patience told them. “You can’t be around paint or cleaning supplies. You can help next time.”

“Are you sure?” Annabelle asked.

“I swear,” Patience told her. She turned to Isabel. “I’ll expect you to show up early, though.”

“A work party? You mean like when we were kids and all the neighbors would arrive to help with a move or something like that. Still? Really?”

“We’re big on tradition,” Patience told her.

“There’s a rumor about another store opening,” Charlie said. “A Christmas place. Mayor Marsha was mentioning it.”

“I’d love that,” Heidi said. “Is there a location yet?”

“I heard across from the park and next to the sporting-goods store,” Isabel said. “Around the corner from Brew-haha.”

“All of us starting businesses at the same time,” Patience said. “That’s only good news.”

Heidi batted her eyes. “Let us not forget the bodyguard school your handsome friend is opening.”

Patience sipped her soda and did her best to look innocent. “I’ve heard about it.”

“Uh-huh.” Annabelle rested her hands on her belly. “He’s very hot. All strong and protective. Excellent qualities in a man.”

“We’re friends. I barely know him.”

“That’s not what your blush says,” Charlie told her.

Isabel’s eyes widened. “You’re dating Justice?”

“No. I’ve seen him around town. He came over for dinner. With my daughter and my mother,” she added, refusing to even think about the kisses they’d shared. “He’s nice.”

“Nice, huh?” Heidi didn’t look convinced. “I think there’s more to the story.”

Jo appeared. “You five ready to order?”

“I am,” Patience said quickly, eager to change the subject.

Isabel leaned close and lowered her voice. “Saved by Jo. Don’t think I’m not going to want details later.”

Patience shrugged, as if she had no idea what her friend was talking about. As for sharing details, there really weren’t very many. Justice was appealing, but potentially dangerous. Better that she avoid him. Okay, maybe not better, but smarter.

* * *

SO MUCH FOR being smart, Patience thought the next afternoon as she stood in what would soon be her store and waited while Justice walked through the place. She had the tape down on the floor, marking off the various locations. The main counter, the cold case, the bakery display, tables and chairs.

He moved between the two-dimensional representation of what would be real objects, then circled back. Finally he looked up at her.

“You have a well-thought-out plan,” he said. “There’s good flow here.”

“Does that mean it’s a good layout to hold a South American dictator or a bad place to do that?”

He smiled at her. “I could arrange a kidnapping here. Or prevent one. Flexibility’s important.”

She did her best to ignore the way his smile made her toes get all curly in her athletic shoes. Right now her business had to be her prime focus. Not the handsome man prowling around. Although he did look good prowling. Competent and determined. As a quick “Oh God, what am I thinking?” shudder washed through her, she thought longingly of strong arms to hold her close. She supposed it was good to know that in a battle of strength, hormones beat common sense. Knowledge was power and all that.

He turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Cold?”

“Terrified.”

“New business jitters?”

“Mostly. I’ve been telling myself that I don’t get to be scared. I mean, in the grand scheme of life, what’s opening a business? Look at what my mom has to deal with every day with her MS. I should be able to handle this with grace and dignity, right?”

He moved toward her. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s natural, considering what you’re doing.”

His dark blue eyes seemed to suck her in. She felt herself losing all her will, not to mention her sense of self-preservation. Asking his opinion was one thing, but longing for some serious naughty time was just plain stupid.

“This is a big change,” she admitted, knowing that confession was much safer than telling him about the voice in her head. The one screaming, “Take me now!”

She cleared her throat. “I’ve read the articles. I know what percentage of new businesses fail.”

“You’re not going to be one of them. You have a great product in an excellent location. You’ll be local and get the support that goes with it.” He put his hands on her upper arms. “You’re going to be fine.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” She found herself wanting to lean into him, which wasn’t a good thing. Distraction, she thought. She needed a distraction.

“Hey, you’ll be doing all this and killing people,” she said, her voice perky. “That’s some stress, too.”

He gave her that damned slow, sexy smile. “We don’t plan to kill people in class.”

“Just after. If they’re late or mouthy?”

“It’s one way to deal with problems.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Plumber, electrician and the contractor all fight for space.” She led the way to the main counter. “See the big squares? Those are the espresso machines. They have to be plumbed for water and hardwired into the electrical system. The cold and display cases are already on their way. The espresso machines will arrive on Monday.”

The details were both a distraction from being so close to Justice and a direct route to a twirly tummy. She pressed her hand against her midsection.

“All the professional work will be done within two weeks. Then comes the fun stuff. Painting, cleaning, setting up. We’ll do a work party for that. Then another week to pull it all together, train whatever staff we hire, and then we open.”

He faced her. “A work party?”

“Sure. We put out the word that we need help and people will show up and do whatever needs doing.” Patience tilted her head. “I’ve been to tons of them but have never asked for help. It feels weird, but I can’t take care of everything myself, and paying the contractor for the simple stuff chews up too much of the budget.”

“Another small-town benefit?” he asked.

She smiled. “We could come help you, if you’d like. Stock the shelves with lethal darts and pens that use invisible ink.”

“I think we’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” He studied her. “You never wanted to live anywhere else?”

“This is home. Do you think there’s somewhere better?”

“Not for you. You belong here.”

She wasn’t sure if his words were a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe they just were and she should go with it.

She opened her mouth to say something else, then happened to catch sight of his watch. “Is that the time?”

He held out his arm so she could see more clearly. “It’s accurate.”

“I have highlights in ten minutes.”

He pushed her toward the door. “Go. I’ll lock up and drop off the key.”

“Really? Thanks.”

She bolted out the door.

She almost wished he wouldn’t be so nice, she thought as she hurried toward the salon. Justice was enough of a temptation without being thoughtful and sweet, too. With everything going on, she found herself feeling more vulnerable than usual.

Yes or no, she thought. Yes to Justice and possible disaster, but such a thrill ride. Or no. Which really meant yes to being sensible.

She wanted it all, she realized. The man who made her tingle and laugh, who was also dangerous and mysterious. She wanted uncertainty and a sure thing. An impossible combination.

* * *

JUSTICE DID AS he promised. He locked up the store, then returned the key to Patience. She was busy painting some mixture onto thin strips of hair, then wrapping them in what looked a lot like aluminum foil.

The mysteries of being a woman, he thought as he ducked out of the salon before he was noticed. But he was happy to help her. Being around Patience relaxed him. He felt better when she was in the room. The sexual attraction was a problem he hadn’t solved. Giving in was the easiest solution, but then what? How did that help her? Excluding all the ways he planned to please her, of course.

He’d never been the kind of man who settled into relationships. Between his work and his past, he knew he wasn’t a good bet. So far, resisting the call of settling down had been easy, but lately...

He shook off the thought and headed down the street. As he reached the corner, he saw a man walking in front of him. The guy was tall, with dark hair. There was something familiar about him. Something that put Justice on alert. He knew the other man wouldn’t start the fight, but he would end it.

By the time Justice had closed the gap, the information was in place. So when the guy turned, Justice was able to put the name with the face and know there wasn’t any danger. Not yet, at least.

“Gideon Boylan,” he said.

The dark-haired man didn’t look surprised. “Garrett.”

Gideon looked like a dozen other guys Justice knew. Scarred, tattooed and dangerous. He had a scar by his eyebrow, but Justice was sure there were others. In their line of work, it wasn’t a matter of if you were injured but rather when.