“Ladies,” she said as they approached.
Ford got to her first. “Consuelo!”
He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him. It was like hugging a warm, muscled wall. Before she could catch her breath, he passed her over to Angel who did exactly the same thing.
“Chica,” he murmured in her ear. “Still looking good.”
She pushed away from him and rolled her eyes. “You’re both flabby,” she complained. “We’re going to have to start real workouts in the morning.”
Ford’s expression turned wounded. “I’m not,” he said, pulling up his T-shirt to expose a perfect six-pack. “Go on. Hit me.”
“You wish.”
She walked to her trunk and opened it, then pulled out two duffels. The guys hovered, obviously unsure if they should help or not. She liked the slight edge of fear in their eyes. She preferred any situation where she was in charge.
“Here,” she said, handing over her duffels. “How long have you been in the house?”
“Got the keys this morning,” Ford said. “We were thinking of going to the store. For beer and maybe food. We were talking about ordering a pizza for tonight.”
“One of you should start cooking,” she said, leading the way into the house. She held in a snicker, knowing neither of them would have the balls to suggest she should be preparing meals. She might be female, but no one would accuse her of being domesticated.
She walked through the open front door and found herself in a large living room. The furniture was oversize but looked comfortable. Black leather sofa with a couple of chairs and a low coffee table. She could see the dining room beyond and a doorway leading to what she assumed was the kitchen.
She turned the other way, heading down the hallway toward the bedrooms. There was a hall bath, two average-size bedrooms. At the far end, one of a set of double doors stood open.
“The master?” she asked, even as she headed toward it.
“We, ah, weren’t sure who would, ah...” Ford verbally stumbled to a stop.
Consuelo stepped inside. There was a king-size bed, a long dresser and a desk. The attached bath was small but had everything she needed. The closet was more than adequate.
She saw the duffels by the bed and raised her eyebrows.
Ford and Angel exchanged a look and quickly put her luggage on the bed, then carried theirs out. Low conversation carried back to her. She only caught an occasional word—something like “No, you tell her,” and she smiled. It was good to be the meanest, baddest bitch in the house.
Thirty minutes later Consuelo had showered and dressed in jeans and a tank top. She brushed out her thick brown hair, thinking she should never have allowed herself to be talked into a layered cut. Her hair had a natural wave that took over if she didn’t keep her hair well past her shoulders. Now she wrestled the unruly strands into a ponytail. She slipped her feet into sandals and tucked her wallet and cell phone into her jeans pockets. She left the master and headed to the front of the house.
Ford and Angel were in the kitchen. A table stood by a window, and there were bar stools pulled up to the granite counter. Stainless steel appliances gleamed against dark cabinets. The guys each had a beer.
For a second, she felt the separation between them and her. Not just because she was female, but because at the end of the day they were warriors and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see herself as more than a street kid who’d stumbled into a circumstance where she could excel.
“Want one?” Ford asked, pointing to the refrigerator.
“No, thanks. I’m meeting Felicia soon.”
She pulled a hundred dollars out of her wallet and put it on the counter. “Each of you put in the same, and we’ll get the place stocked with basics. Breakfast and snacks only. We each provide our own lunch and dinner.” She cocked her head. “Unless you two want to have one of your bets. Loser cooks for a week and the other two pay for the food. Fair enough?”
The men nodded.
“I’ll take care of the initial shopping,” she continued. “After that, we’ll take turns doing it. Make sure you pay attention to brands and sizes.” She narrowed her gaze. “You will do your own laundry, and you will not leave clothes in either the washer or dryer. In this house, I don’t work for either of you. Is that clear?”
More nods.
They would have to get a cleaning service in, but they had time on that. She’d roomed with men before and knew everything went more smoothly when she took care of the details up front. Otherwise, she was going to have to knock a few heads together, and that always meant someone getting hurt. Not her, of course, but someone.
She studied the two men watching her warily. “I know both of you. Everything’s a competition. I have no problem with that, but leave it outside.”
With that, she turned and walked out of the house.
* * *
FELICIA WAITED OUTSIDE Brew-haha. Consuelo had sent a text saying she was on her way. She watched anxiously, excited to see her friend.
During her military career and later with the security company, Felicia had mostly worked with men. Women had not been allowed in combat. Ipso facto, she hadn’t had much of a chance to make female friends. Consuelo had been one of the few on the team. She was beautiful but deadly and had often been sent on assignments that required covert contact and distraction.
There had been times when Consuelo had seduced the enemy, gained the information she needed, then killed him before disappearing into the night. A different kind of assassin, Felicia thought. Snipers took lives, but what Consuelo had done was more personal and more dangerous.
Felicia turned and caught sight of her friend crossing the street. Although Consuelo was only five foot two, she was strong. A sexually appealing combination of curves and muscle. Men couldn’t help turning to gape at her. But when they looked into her dark eyes, they usually backed off. Consuelo had perfected what she jokingly called the “don’t eff with me” stare.
Felicia had worked to copy her friend’s deadly glare, but when she tried it people tended to ask if she wasn’t feeling well. It must have been an innate gift.
Now she watched the petite fighter walk along the sidewalk. She wore jeans, a lime-green tank top and sandals. She should have looked like any other tourist, yet she didn’t. From the tip of her long, shiny ponytail to her controlled stride, she radiated confidence and danger.
Consuelo saw her and smiled. They hurried toward each other and embraced.
“Finally,” Felicia said with a smile. “I’ve been waiting what feels like forever for you to get here. Of course it’s only been three months, but missing you makes time seem to move more slowly in the context of our friendship.”
Consuelo laughed. “You are such a freak.”
“I know.”
“It makes you special and me love you more.” Her friend smiled at her. “How are you? I’ve missed you, too.”
They hugged again, then headed into the store and ordered iced coffees. After collecting their drinks, Felicia led the way outside, and they sat down at one of the tables shaded by an umbrella.
“So, tell me everything,” Consuelo said before taking a sip of her drink. “What is this place?”
“Fool’s Gold? It’s such an interesting town. Large enough to have an assortment of amenities, but still small enough for the residents to connect with each other.”
Consuelo wrinkled her nose. “It’s not natural. Have you seen the house Angel and Ford picked? It was built in the ’60s or something.”
“A ranch style. They used space efficiently, separating the living area of the house from the bedrooms. Very traditional.”
“It’s weird and I don’t like it.”
Felicia knew her resistance came from her unfamiliarity with the situation. Consuelo was used to being in the field or living in a city. Small-town America was bound to be unsettling.
Her friend looked at her. “My complaints aside, you look happy.”
She explained about the festivals and how she would be in charge. “I’m a little concerned about meeting everyone’s expectations.”
“You’ll do great.”
“I’m less worried about the logistics than the undefinable ‘people’ factor.”
“You do better with people than you give yourself credit for,” Consuelo told her. “Everyone has a different style. You have yours. It works. Go with it.”
“I wish...” Felicia shook her head. “I understand the futility of wishing.”
“That doesn’t make the need to do it go away. Look at the bright side. At the end of the day the worst anyone is going to find out about you is that you’re even smarter than they first thought. After that, it’s all easy.”
Felicia understood the unspoken part of her friend’s statement. The worst someone could learn about Consuelo was what she’d done in her past. Those who didn’t live in the gray area of black ops and covert missions might judge her or be afraid. They might not see that behind the attitude and killer reflexes was a lonely woman who simply wanted to belong.
Early in their friendship, Consuelo had told Felicia a little about her past. At first Felicia had thought they were practicing traditional female bonding, but over time she’d realized Consuelo was testing her. Trying to see if she was a real friend or someone who couldn’t take the truth. Eventually Felicia had convinced her she was unshockable. She frequently participated in mission debriefings. The soldiers she knew were killers. Consuelo was no different and had her own ghosts to deal with.
“You need a man,” Felicia said.
Consuelo stared at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. If I want to get laid, I’ll find somebody.”
“I wasn’t thinking about sexual release, although that’s very pleasurable. You need a relationship, a place where you can allow a man to really know you and believe he cares about you.”
Dark eyes turned dangerous. “We are not having this conversation.”
“All evidence to the contrary?”
Consuelo made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“I’m unmoved by your threats. They’re meaningless. You’d never resort to physical force, and you’re only mentioning them because they work on the guys.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I’m smarter than them.”
“You’re also a pain in my ass.”
“Both cheeks?”
Consuelo laughed. “Yes, both cheeks. Fine, I can’t threaten you into silence. I don’t want a man.”
“I think you want what I want. A place to belong.”
“It’s sure not here.”
“Why not? You’re taking a job here. Logistically it makes sense to find a relationship close to your employment.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“I acknowledge the element of chance in pair bonding. I’m just saying while you’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to look.”
“I’m not the PTA type.”
“You don’t have children. Why would you join the PTA?”
Consuelo raised her eyebrows.
“Oh,” Felicia said slowly, once again slightly out of step with the conversation. The difference was with Consuelo, she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about it. “It’s like a picket fence. I get that. You’re not traditional. Neither am I, although I’m trying to move in that direction.” She thought about the women she saw around town. Young mothers with children. Teenagers talking together and laughing.
“Anyone you’re interested in?” Consuelo asked.
“Gideon.”
Her friend’s dark eyes widened. “Gideon from Thailand? That Gideon?”
Felicia nodded.
“He’s here?”
“He owns two radio stations. We’ve had sex.”
That statement earned her a momentary jaw drop, which was very satisfying.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I went to talk to him, but as I spent more time with him, I found myself attracted to him.” She smiled. “It was late at night, and we did it on his deck. It was very primal.”
“You go, girl. And after?”
“He came to check on me. It was sweet. He seemed torn between worry and wanting to run.”
“That’s pretty typical for a guy. What did you do?”
“I asked him out. To a party. He said yes.” She could feel herself smiling. “It’s a date.”
“My little girl is all grown up.”
“Gideon explained he wasn’t a forever guy. It means—” She paused, remembering that she was the only one who had trouble with casual idioms. “You know what it means.”
“He’s not into commitment. Look, Felicia, when a guy tells you something like that, he’s not lying. When a man says he’s never been faithful or doesn’t want anything long-term, you should believe him.”
“I do. He has no reason to lie to me.”
“My point is, don’t fall for him.”
“If I spend time with him, I’m not sure I can control my emotions. I like being around him. I like anticipating seeing him, and I’m hoping we’ll have sex again. Doesn’t that, by definition, put me at risk of falling in love?”
Felicia knew her friend well enough to read the emotions moving across her face. Indecision joined worry, and she understood the cause for both.
“I want this,” Felicia admitted. “I want to know what it’s like to have butterflies in my stomach. I want to feel rather than think all the time. I’ve never been on a date, let alone fallen in love. If he hurts me, I’ll heal. People do.”
“It always sounds so easy,” Consuelo murmured. “Right before you get your heart ripped out. Fine. Go fall in love with Gideon and have great sex. Maybe it will all work out.”
Felicia grinned. “Maybe I won’t fall for him, although I do look forward to more sex.”
“It’s good to have a plan.” Consuelo slipped on her sunglasses and stood. “Come on, you. Show me this weird little town of yours. Tell me there are more than two stoplights.”
“There are. We also have California’s longest-serving mayor and festivals every month. At Christmas, there’s a Live Nativity. I heard last year there was an elephant.”
“At the nativity?”
Felicia nodded. “Her name’s Priscilla. She lives on a ranch with several goats and a pony. Want me to tell you about the Dog Days of Summer Fair?”
“Only if you promise to shoot me first.”
* * *
GIDEON ARRIVED FOR the meeting a few minutes early. As a business owner in town, there were events he was expected to attend. He did so just often enough that no one came calling to ask why he wasn’t involved. Easier to participate on his own terms, he thought, finding a seat in the back of the room.
After a couple of bad nights, he’d finally managed to get some sleep. He was always grateful when the dreams didn’t attack him.
He glanced around the room and nodded at a few people he knew. The mayor walked in with Charity Golden, the city planner. They moved to the front of the room. Mayor Marsha saw him and pointed to a seat up by the podium. He shook his head, and the older woman chuckled.
He watched the door, not sure if Felicia would be attending. While he wanted to see her, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He still couldn’t believe he’d let her spend the night. The sex he understood. Four years ago Felicia had been exactly what he’d been looking for—a wild, uncomplicated ride. She’d rocked his world, and he’d been disappointed to have things end so quickly. Discovering her a second time had been an added bonus.
When a woman like her expressed sexual interest, it would take more self-control than he had to say no. Sex was relatively easy—but spending the night? He didn’t do that. Didn’t like it. Yet he’d slept with her as easily as he’d made love with her. An uncomfortable truth he’d yet to reconcile.
For this meeting there wasn’t a conference table. Rather, chairs had been set up in rows. Felicia glanced toward him and smiled. He felt the kick in his gut, along with a jolt of heat that moved lower. Damn, she was beautiful, he thought.
She spoke to her friends, then moved to join the mayor and Charity at the front of the room. Isabel and the Christmas store woman walked back several rows and settled a few seats in front of him.
“Do you think he’ll be here?” Isabel asked, her voice carrying just enough for him to hear.
Her friend sighed. “You’re going to have to pick. Either you want to see Ford or you don’t.”
“Why do I have to decide, Noelle? Why can’t my decision change with my mood? I don’t always wear the same shoes.”
“Because you spend half your time trying to figure out where he’s going to be in town and the rest of the time avoiding that exact spot. It’s exhausting. Also, you have a thousand pairs of shoes. I’m surprised you wear any of them more than two days in a row.”
Isabel glanced at the door. “Oh, God. It’s Justice. Ford might be with him. I have to hide.”
Gideon followed her gaze and saw Justice walking in with Patience. The two of them took seats together in the second row. Isabel writhed in her seat.
“Looks like he’s not coming,” Noelle said. “Good news or bad news?”
Isabel slumped back in her seat. “I can’t decide.”
Several more people walked into the conference room. Gideon recognized the Stryker contingent. Rafe and his business partner, Dante, who owned a large real estate development company. Shane Stryker had a horse ranch. His brother Clay had started a Haycation business on the Castle Ranch. Rafe’s wife, Heidi, sat with them. She sold goat cheese and soap.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
He looked to his right and saw a petite blonde standing there. She had big hazel eyes and looked like she was maybe twelve.
Two of a Kind Page 7