What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 5)

by Cathryn Fox

  “When I first started working for the judge, he spent most of his time swearing at his very expensive import and yelling at the dealer. I introduced him to Freddie; he didn’t even blink at his appearance, Turk’s tattoo’s either.” Her eyebrow arched at Adam’s sudden contrite expression. “The rest as they say is history. Their auto prowess spread, I think most of the city cops and the state police use them for their personal cars. Katherine worked on the contract proposal with me for the country club repair center and business is booming. Meaning more vets get hired. The same with Finch and his security services.”

  “I plan on looking into it.”

  She studied the planes and angles of his face. He was very handsome, in a rough sort of way. It was probably the sexy stubble…her brain skidded to a halt. “So you were a marine?” At his nod, she continued. “Iraq?”

  “Fallujah.” He wiped a large hand across his face. “I was much luckier than your friends. Just a few physical scars. You tend to want to forget…” His hand moved to his neck trying to massage the mental scars away.

  Samantha knew the most intense urban battles were fought in Fallujah by the marines. She stared at his odd expression and decided to change gears. “You know, my next focus is going to be totally PR, perhaps a beefcake calendar for the New Year. What do you think?”

  Adam started to laugh. “I think the sign on your door is perfect…you are insane! So I guess we have a truce from yesterday?” He flashed another attractive grin and at her nod, rubbed his hands together. “Now, what’s for lunch?”

  “Well, we are either having a terrific ham-and-cheese omelet or a generous ration of scrambled eggs,” Samantha told him with an engaging smile, holding up an odd looking pan. “I bought this yesterday and thought I’d give it a try. Are you game?”

  “Absolutely,” Adam told her and settled himself more comfortably in the padded captain’s chair. “I’ll just sit and watch you cook.”

  “Oh, no, if you want to eat, you work. You can set the table. The dishes are in the cabinet behind you and the cutlery is in the third drawer on your left.” Samantha rummaged through the refrigerator. “You know,” she told him, assembling the ingredients on the counter nearest the stove, “you aren’t exactly what I expected.”

  “I am sorry,” he apologized dryly, placing two daisy-patterned dishes on the placemats. “Exactly what did you expect?”

  “Well, the judge kept going on about his old friend coming to town. I expected a contemporary of the judge’s, someone in his sixties.” She sliced ham and cheese into slender strips on a bamboo cutting board.

  “Someone in his sixties, huh? I’ll have to talk to Hal about lowering my age back to thirty-seven where it belongs,” Adam snorted. “Did he really make me out to be a doddering old man?” He placed coffee mugs and paper napkins by each plate.

  “I did not say doddering. Not everyone in his sixties is doddering. Sixty is the new forty according to all the health magazines.” She was busy whisking eggs in a glass bowl, while waiting for the butter to melt in the omelet pan. “How did you two meet?”

  “The judge was one of my professors at Harvard Law and later, a partner in my father’s New York law firm,” Adam enlightened her, pulling open the cutlery drawer. “I joined the law firm after I passed the bar. Then spent four years in the marines. Had time to think and decided I wasn’t that interested in corporate law, at least full time. I latched onto a publishing company that was going bankrupt in New York. It had a newspaper chain that was floundering in D.C. and Virginia which I personally took over. I set up a manager to handle the book publishing end in New York. When my father died, I turned the law practice over to the judge and got totally involved with the publishing company. While he was a practicing lawyer, the judge kept an eye on the New York end for me. I never cared too much for New York City or Washington for that matter. I just bought a horse farm in Virginia.”

  “A farm? You mentioned that yesterday. I’m having trouble visualizing you in jeans.” Samantha told him frankly, filling a glass teakettle with water and setting it on another burner. “You seem to be the type that would enjoy the night life, the wild parties, the sexy women…”

  “Really, you think I’m that type?” Adam’s eyebrow arched. “I have photos on my phone. I can assure you the night life and the parties get boring pretty fast. You have to watch out for everyone these days; they sell a lie to the tabloids or write some erotic memoirs.”

  “Oh, does that mean we’ll be reading about your bedroom exploits in some racy novel?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence, pouring the frothy egg mixture over the sautéed vegetables on one side of the pan, then flipped the top over.

  “Hardly, any woman I’ve ever been connected with know the rules of the game before they start playing. Where do you want this tea stored?” Adam asked abruptly, indicating the carton on the counter. “Up here, in this cabinet all right?”

  Lifting her gaze from the stove, Samantha exhaled a squeal. “Oh, no! Not that cabinet!” But she was too late. Adam Rourke found himself pelted with a seemingly endless shower of plastic containers and lids. Samantha was laughing so hard she was sure the omelet was going to be a total loss. “Are you all right?”

  “You have got to be the craziest dame I’ve ever met!” He exclaimed exasperatedly. “What can I expect next?”

  She peeked under the top of the pan. “Just lunch.” Sam assured him with a chuckle, deftly sliding the large golden omelet onto a serving plate and turning off the burner under the furiously bubbling tea kettle. Suddenly the day turned into fun. The handsome cynical publisher seemed strangely out of his depth and she was enjoying a slight edge.

  “I need it!” Adam stepped over the storage bins that littered the tiles.

  “Don’t worry about the mess; you can clean it up after lunch. Grab a tin of tea, please.”

  “Is it always like this around here?” He handed her the canister.

  “Insanity is the name of the game here, this is not your normal household,” she assured him with a wry grin that turned into a frown when she opened the tin. “Well, I guess the tea is out.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not in bags. I don’t fancy tea leaves wafting about in my cup, do you?”

  “Put them in a tea ball,” Adam told her, seating himself at the table.

  “A tea ball! You are joking. I’m afraid this is not a gourmet’s kitchen,” Samantha made a flourishing gesture toward the floor.

  Adam focused on the counter, and then snapped his fingers. “How about using that small strainer in your kitchen tools’ bin. That should work.”

  “Clever man.”

  “I do have my moments.” Adam watched her spoon the loose tea into the glass pot. His eyes were drawn to the triangle of taut skin that was visible between the knot of her shirt and the waistband of her fitted jeans. He wasn’t quite sure how she could look even sexier clothed than in the towel and bikini bottom…but, damn, she did.

  “We’ll let it steep a bit,” she told him, bringing the omelet platter and a plate of rolls to the table. “Why don’t you help yourself to this while I get the butter and ketchup…do you need anything else?”

  “Ketchup!” Adam exclaimed. “You’re going to ruin this gorgeous creation with ketchup?”

  “I know. Disgusting isn’t it? I put ketchup on everything.” The cautious, wary air that had hung in the kitchen had been replaced by a friendly, companionable atmosphere.

  Adam helped himself to a roll and butter. “How long have you lived way out here?”

  “Oh, it’s been about ten years,” Samantha told him, straining the steaming fragrant tea into their mugs.

  “It’s rather an unusual place to settle, isn’t it?” He cut into the succulent ham-and-cheese omelet with obvious relish.

  She shrugged. “My mom died when I was ten and my father couldn’t seem to live in our old house anymore. So he asked Lucy and me if we’d mind moving out to this A-frame he had found. We didn’t. It was heaven. W
e were camp counselors in the summer. Lucy did arts and crafts; I did fishing, diving and swimming. It was great to roll out of bed and into the lake every morning.” Samantha covered her omelet with ketchup much to Adam’s obvious distaste. “In the fall and winter, the bus took us to school. We all worked to help fix up the cottage. My dad had a dormer put in, adding more ceiling height to the upstairs bedrooms as well as a second bathroom.”

  “You said your father was an insurance investigator?”

  “He was a Vietnam vet, silver star,” she added proudly. “A detective on the Albany police force for a long time. Then when it was just the three of us, he decided to leave and start his own agency doing investigations for insurance and some private security work. He died three years ago. Lucy and I decided to stay at the lake instead of moving to an apartment in the city.”

  “Where is your sister?”

  “California,” Samantha added butter to her dinner roll.

  “California,” Adam echoed in surprise. “Is she on vacation?”

  “No. She’s gone there permanently. She just got married last week, that’s why things are slightly more out of order than usual. Here, you still look hungry, finish this up before it gets cold.” She deftly transferred the rest of the omelet from the serving dish to his plate.

  “Thanks,” Adam grinned. “I gather your sister’s wedding was rather sudden.”

  “I’ll say. It all happened in the last three weeks. You know, it would make a great romance for you to publish,” she reflected, sipping her tea.

  “Okay. I’ll bite.”

  “She got a dish of lasagna dumped into her lap,” Samantha said matter-of-factly.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not in the least. Would you like to hear the whole story?”

  “I’m all ears,” Adam assured her, taking the last dinner role.

  Samantha pushed her empty plate aside and, elbows up on the table, rested her chin in her hand. “Once upon a time, three weeks ago last Thursday,” her lashes fluttered behind the lenses. “I drove Lucy to work since Freddie was putting a new cat converter and muffler on her car. She was an interior designer for a high-end company in downtown Albany. Anyway, her office was having a late afternoon retirement luncheon for one of the managers at this new restaurant that featured a mammoth smorgasbord. Lucy was standing in line when the man in front of her turned back sharply for some extra salad dressing and they collided. She was covered with his entire plate of food—from salad to very hot lasagna!” She heard Adam’s chuckle and gave him a quelling glance. “Well, she couldn’t sit around like that the rest of the day and she couldn’t reach me because I was watching a porno movie. So the man offered to run her home to change clothes.”

  “Whoa,” Adam’s fork clattered to the plate, “back up a minute. Did you say you were watching a porno movie?”

  The look on his face was so incredulous that Samantha giggled. “It was all in the line of duty,” she told him solemnly. “I was with the judge, the ADA, and his secretary. There had been a couple of complaints. So our unbiased opinions were wanted on what was billed as a foreign art film festival before they decided to close down the theater that was showing it.”

  “And what was your professional opinion?” Adam asked dryly.

  “It was in French, and I took Latin. Photography was beautiful, English subtitles didn’t make much sense, not sure there was even a plot amid all the tangled bodies but it wasn’t pornographic and the popcorn in that theatre was too die for.”

  Laughing, Adam shook his head, moved his plate to one side and cradled the steaming mug in his hands. “Popcorn?”

  “Caramel.” She nodded. “Now let’s see. Well, Lucy really didn’t have much choice, so she allowed the man to drive her back here, and left a message on my cell phone. She learned that he owned an architectural firm in California and was out here for a convention. By the time I got home, there was my sister and this very handsome Spanish architect preparing dinner in the kitchen like old friends.” Samantha paused for a breath. “You are following all this, aren’t you?” Adam nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips.

  “I read my older sister the riot act for getting into a car with a total stranger, a rental car yet. Just because I wasn’t available, she should have called Freddie; he would have taken her home or sent one of the guys.” Her tone grew serious. “Do you know how many serial killers are out there?”

  He shook his head.

  “Or stalkers?”

  He shook his head again.

  “Well, there are way too many and just because this man said he was an architect well…hell, anyone can say they are anything! So I checked him out.”

  Adam eyes widened, then he closed one eye to stare at her. “You. Checked. Him. Out?” His mouth dropped open.

  Her index finger pushed up under his chin. “Of course I checked him out. I copied his driver’s license information off the car rental receipt in the glove compartment. I called the judge and he made some calls. And then I called one of the ADA’s and he made some calls. And then I called Freddie and he made some calls. I did an internet search on his name to see what would come up. With the four hour time difference and my investigation squad, I had that man’s boxer size by midnight.” Laughing, she pushed Adam’s dropped jaw up again.

  “It was a damn good thing I did, because he showed up with Chinese the next night. I was in class, which left Lucy home alone. Well, by the weekend, we could have declared Reynaldo Alvarez aka Ray, who actually was an award-winning architect, a tax dependent. It was really rather funny. We would find him on the front porch with the morning paper and breakfast. He’d spend the day, helping around the cottage, take us shopping, and stay for dinner. By the end of the second week—mind you, he was only going to stay in New York for one week—he was practically living here.

  “I was feeling like a fifth wheel and took to visiting the neighbors till they tossed me out. It was really getting ridiculous. Ray had asked Lucy to marry him and she was hemming and hawing. Saying she couldn’t leave me or her job. That no one could actually fall in love in just ten days. She wasn’t sure she would fit in with his Spanish relatives. Poor Ray was getting rather desperate.” She smiled at Adam’s grunt. “Although, I now have half a cord of wood cut.” Samantha’s eyelashes fluttered.

  “I said it was stupid to have Ray hanging around here night and day and I was getting tired of finding places to hide and then coming home to a house full of steamed windows. I told Lucy if she didn’t love him to let the poor man go back to L.A. Lucy got mad and said of course she loved him. Ray heard that and…the judge married them this past week. Now they are off to live in sunny California.”

  “Leaving you all alone in this isolated cottage,” Adam remarked flatly.

  “Sure. Why not?” Samantha poured more tea through the strainer, refilling both mugs.

  “You’re not afraid of being out here alone every night?”

  “Good heavens, no. You are the first person who’s ever just walked into the house,” Samantha reported, watching his lips twist in embarrassment. “I don’t think there’s ever been a break-in or any crime up here. We all leave our houses unlocked. You live alone, don’t you?”

  “Well, that’s different; I’m a man and can handle anything that might come up. With the economy, there have been way too many home invasions. I just updated my alarm system for the house and the barns.” His blunt forefinger tapped the placemat. “That’s an idea, an alarm system. I’ve got a great one; I can give them a call and we can connect it right up to your –”

  “You can give them a call?” She interrupted, her eyes wide. “You do have only child syndrome.” Samantha shook her head.

  He looked startled. “What in hell is that?”

  “Look it up. If I think I need an alarm, I’ll do something but this area is not a crime statistic. Besides my father taught us well,” she told him. “I’m very self-sufficient. I handle minor car repairs, change the oil, fixed the compute
r. I even changed the belt on the clothes dryer…although I broke three nails on that sucker…” she wiggled her fingertips at him. “Last spring I took a kick boxing class.”

  He snorted. “Oh, yeah, you’re a toughie, you are.”

  “You’d be surprised.” She sent him an outrageous wink.

  Adam laughed and then his green eyes focused on her animated features. Her sassy smile was sexy. He was trying to ignore his body’s reaction to the whole package that was Samantha Logan. “I was just wondering…”

  “Hmm…what?” Samantha started clearing the table.

  “How Ray was able to choose?”

  “Choose?”

  “Between you and your sister.”

  Lips pressed together, she stared at him for a long moment. “What a strange thing to say…unless…” her blue eyes widened. “Ahh…you lusted after two sisters? Oh my, you are blushing!” Viewing his contrite expression, she laughed.

  “Am not…hey, I was sixteen at the time and they were both cheerleaders and –” At her upheld palm, he grinned, pushed back from the kitchen table, then collected the mugs and silverware.

  “Well, if he had made a pass at me, he would have been drop-kicked out the front door.” Samantha squirted dish detergent into the sink. “Besides we are nothing alike, the only thing we have in common is blue eyes.” She moved to allow him to slide the cutlery and dishes into the soapy water.

  “We are just ten months apart; Lucy is the classic five foot two, eyes of blue, with curly reddish-brown hair. Easy going, assumes that everyone is what they appear to be,” Samantha brushed off a shiver. “She was the perfect child, ballet dancer, dolls, arts and crafts and junior prom queen. She created a dollhouse that would have won an interior designer award. She knew exactly what she wanted to be from the age of twelve, received top grades and scholarships galore.”

  Adam neatly secured the plastic bins on the top shelf of the cabinet before stacking the tea canisters on the lower shelf. “And I gather you did none of that?” He leaned lazily against the counter, studying her profile, while she made quick work of the dishes.