Armored Hearts [The Town of Pearl 7] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  He stopped any further curiosity about the attraction that couldn’t happen. Instead, he made himself a plate of bacon and eggs.

  * * * *

  Ford helped India to the living room while Fisher grabbed some blankets and a pillow.

  Grey was walking alongside them when they passed the front window that looked out over the porch.

  “Is that a swinging bench out there?” she asked.

  Ford held her around her hips as they paused by the window,

  “Sure is. But I don’t think you’re up to that quite yet,” he told her.

  She looked disappointed and it gave him a funny sensation inside. He actually felt guilty. Who was he to tell her that she wasn’t up for a swing on the bench? Then again, why would she want to do that? She was high class, wealthy, and probably dated men with deep pockets and designer suits.

  “Maybe in a few days your ribs will feel a little less sore and you can try the swing. Some fresh air will do you good,” Fisher told her, breaking the silence.

  She slowly sat down on the couch and he watched her scrunched up expression. He stared at her. That protective sensation was growing stronger in her presence.

  “You need to take something.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll deal with it.” She sounded snappy and he could tell that India was fighting the aches.

  “You can’t risk getting weaker and feeling sick. You could wind up with a fever, an infection, and then back in the hospital. You’re taking something,” Fisher said sternly.

  Her mouth opened up to say something and then she closed it.

  “What exactly is in your contract for dealing with me?” she asked. It shocked him and Fisher.

  “Contract?” Fisher had the ability to ask.

  “Yes. There must be some sort of contractual agreement between you and Silas or you and Dmitri. What is it? What are you supposed to do babysit me? Keep me sedated and weak? What?” She raised her voice.

  “What’s with the attitude? We’re trying to help you,” Fisher asked.

  “Listen, you’re cranky, you’re feeling weak and vulnerable. I think it’s time to take something for the pain and for you to rest,” Ford told her.

  “I think I’ll be fine right here on my own. Thank you.” Grey walked in with the blanket and pillow, obviously hearing the little confrontation. He handed her the blanket and the pillow and she painstakingly maneuvered them into position on the couch.

  Lying down, her face turned red from her holding in the ache she was obviously feeling. But she cuddled under the blanket and lay down, closing her eyes.

  Ford glanced at Fisher, who looked pissed, and then at Grey, who raised his palms up as if saying, “What the heck did you do?”

  This was exactly why Ford was single. Women required maintenance and a doctorate in Psychology. He wasn’t wasting his time.

  Chapter 5

  A few days passed and it was the same routine. She awoke crying in her sleep and the pillow over her head in an attempt to not alert the men to her nightmares. They had been pushing for her to take at least half a pain pill, but she refused.

  As she headed downstairs, slowly, she could honestly say that her ribs were feeling better. She approached the kitchen to find Ford and Flynn standing by the stove cooking up some pancakes.

  “Hey, you didn’t need any help down the stairs?” Flynn asked with a smile.

  “Nope. It’s so quiet down here. I thought maybe everyone was sleeping or out.”

  “No, we usually put on some music but we didn’t want to wake you with the surround sound system,” Flynn said.

  “You have a surround sound system? Where? Can I see it? I love listening to music.” Ford chuckled as Flynn showed India where the control box was.

  She fiddled through some songs and then found a station she liked. The sound of club music echoed through the house. She played with the volume and soon the bass was pounding, causing the glasses on the wine rack to vibrate.

  She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and smiled as she listened to the music.

  “Are you out of your mind? What the hell is this crap?” Fenton barked as he came inside looking annoyed.

  She chuckled as Fenton lowered the volume.

  “That’s club music. Don’t you have any clubs out here where you can go dancing?” she asked.

  He looked her over and seemed disgusted or as if she were a freak.

  “Dance clubs? No. We have dance halls where really good music is played and you understand the words. Not this stuff that has hardly any words and a lot of techno nonsense.”

  “It’s great to dance to. I’d show you but I think my hip action will be a little off,” she said and slowly gave her hips a wiggle as she looked down.

  When she glanced up, Ford and Flynn were staring at her and Fenton was, too.

  She nibbled her swollen lower lip. “Okay, club music is not your thing,” she said and walked toward the island.

  “I have to say that hearing the music did make me feel a little better. If you don’t mind, I’d like to listen to it every now and then. Quietly, of course, since your old ears may be affected.” She cracked the wise guy comment toward Fenton, and Flynn and Ford chuckled.

  “You sure can. Maybe we’ll get you to like some country music,” Flynn told her.

  She looked at him and smiled.

  “You never know,” she said and then the sound of country music replaced the techno stuff. Fenton eyed her over then walked away.

  She had to hide her chuckle. It seemed she had the capability to get under Fenton’s skin. That was some pretty thick skin the man was sporting.

  * * * *

  “How about some pancakes? Do you like fresh berries?” Flynn asked her as he carried over the platter of flapjacks.

  “I love pancakes and yes, on the fresh berries,” she told him and Ford smiled as he took off the last links of sausage and then shut off the burners on the stove.

  He joined them at the table and they fell into conversation about the country music that played and about the dance halls.

  “So it’s like where they do line dancing and get dressed up in the fringy outfits?” she asked Ford as she took a spoonful of berries and placed them on the side of her dish.

  “Some people wear the traditional country attire,” Ford told her as he watched her lift the fork of pancakes to her mouth. She was such a beautiful woman. Her gorgeous blues eyes held his and then Flynn spoke, drawing her full attention to him.

  “There are a lot of people who get really dressed up. Some dance halls are more traditional. But closer to the bigger cities and more populated areas, there are upscale dance halls and clubs where people get dropped off in limos and have to wait on line and be chosen to go inside.”

  “Really? That is so cool. It sounds a lot like the clubs in Chicago I go to with friends. There’s one place called Stilettoes, where the bouncers actually pick the women to enter by the height, color, or style of their stilettos. They choose other ways, too, but that little promo scheme sure did make the place popular.”

  “Did you go there a lot, and wearing stilettos?” Flynn asked her.

  She looked at him. Ford could tell she was blushing. A nice shade of pink crept up her neck and to her cheeks. She held Flynn’s gaze as she forked a berry and brought it to her lips.

  “Guilty as charged. I love a nice pair of stilettos, just like any other woman.” She popped the berry into her mouth.

  “Hmm, maybe when your ribs are better, we can bring you to one of the clubs near the city and you can wear a pair?” Flynn teased and winked. Ford couldn’t believe how Flynn, the quietest of the bunch of them, was actually flirting. He didn’t trust people, just like Fenton.

  “You wish, Flynn. Nice try, though,” she teased back and Flynn chuckled then continued to eat.

  They talked to her a little more about Pearl.

  “It sounds like a fantasy town. Are the shops old or new?” she asked.

  “The shops are
beautiful. They kind of combine both an old-fashioned patriotic-town feel, and a more modern, upscale look. There are arched entryways, lots of stained glass and wood work. It’s kind of hard to explain,” Flynn said then looked at Ford.

  “You’ll have to see it when you’re feeling up to it. It’s very welcoming, with benches and flower gardens. It really is a nice town,” Ford added.

  “It sounds like it’s architecturally stimulating, yet has a down-home town feel. I like that. I would love to see it. How often do you usually go into town?” she asked.

  Ford was caught off guard at her question. They only went into town as a means to get things they needed. Rarely did they travel in for pleasure.

  “As often as we need to,” he replied.

  “Hm, with a town as appealing as you make it sound, it doesn’t seem right that you wouldn’t go there all the time.”

  “We’re not really the social kind,” Flynn stated, and he looked down at his plate.

  Ford couldn’t help but think a woman like India loved being social and entertaining. It was something they definitely didn’t have in common. She seemed to realize that she put them on the spot with her question, and instead of pushing the issue, she changed the subject.

  “What about your land? Do you own a lot of property out here?”

  Flynn began to tell her about the twenty acres of land and about some of the things they enjoyed doing on the estate.

  “So you took that picture of the sunset, that’s hanging in the front entryway?” she asked Flynn.

  “Sure did. I go out really early every morning to take pictures of the sunrise and sometimes in the evening when the sun is setting. I find it relaxing.”

  “I bet you do. I’ve always respected the abilities and a photographer’s eye for photographing things so perfectly. I especially like those that catch nature or even people without them knowing. You know, candid shots with natural expressions. It can be so intriguing to look at a photograph and try to figure out what was going through the subject’s head. Could you imagine catching that moment of happiness and joy at hearing exciting news? Or even the sadness, so pure as the deep emotion itself? God, that is really great that you’re a photographer. I bet you have a bunch of portfolios of your work. Anything you would be willing to share with me?” she asked.

  “Of course. If you really want to see them,” he said and Ford had to hide the smile inside. Things were changing here. They were all attracted to India.

  But how could something like this happen? They had a job to do. This wasn’t supposed to get complicated, so why was he feeling like that’s exactly what was happening here?

  They continued to eat and talk as the country music played in the background. Ford wondered why he was analyzing the situation and thinking about what it would be like to have a woman living in their home. To have India live here with them and be their lover. He gulped.

  “So, how do you like living in Chicago? Is it very busy all the time with a lot of traffic?” Ford asked her.

  “It’s not like New York or anything but it’s busy. There are a lot of businesses and corporations around. Then on the outskirts are all different types of homes, including mansions and high-end places. I have a penthouse in a great building. I purchased it about two years ago.”

  “A penthouse? That’s big bucks,” Ford said and then leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. This information was another indicator of how out of their league India was.

  “It is. I guess because of work and everything and having so many friends in the city, I thought I would love it. Truth is, I’m hardly ever there. I’m usually working from the client’s place, and then running home for a quick shower, change of clothes, barely even a bite to eat even in the morning. It’s a chaotic schedule, but I don’t mind.”

  “Sounds kind of lonely to me. Like not having time to enjoy such a lavish home and being alone,” Flynn said as he held her gaze.

  “I don’t mind it. I’m used to being alone more often than not. Silas is my only family. Believe me, I would love to be able to stay home and cook some meals, maybe even bake a little, but it just doesn’t work into my schedule. The client dinners and lunches and of course my friends. They’re a wild bunch and from Wednesday night on it’s a party in the evenings.”

  “Wednesday night? That’s the middle of the week,” Ford told her.

  “I know. But not for them. There’s the club scene, the who’s who in Chicago get-togethers, and the parties where everyone promotes their work, networks, and gains access to potential jobs. It’s very intense when you think about it, but it’s how us business people keep in the forefront of our industries.”

  “Damn, it sounds exhausting. Do you get tired of it?” Ford asked her.

  “Sometimes. But every day just seems to flow into the next, so I really just do what I have to. Like I said, the worst part is living alone and not really being able to enjoy the penthouse.”

  “Well, what do you think about Texas?” Flynn asked her.

  “It’s different, and a lot slower paced. I’ve been to Salvation and heard wonderful things about Tranquility. Pearl seems similar in a lot of ways from how you describe the town and the people living here.”

  “Salvation is very nice. You’re right, though. Both places are a lot like Pearl.”

  “How about we clean up from breakfast and you can check out that porch swing?” Flynn asked her and she smiled. It affected Ford as he held her gaze.

  “Maybe for a little bit. I’m feeling a bit sore.”

  “Of course you are. You’ve been pushing it every day and earlier, you did that hip-shaking dance for Fenton,” Flynn teased and India chuckled.

  “I think I shocked him.”

  “I’d say we all enjoyed it,” Ford told her and winked.

  It felt so normal to flirt with her and get to know her.

  “Why is Fenton so hard to talk to and so closed up? Is it because of his time in the service?” she asked.

  They both looked at her.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business,” she quickly added.

  “He’s a good man, India. He’s been through a lot in life. He’s trustworthy, though,” Flynn assured her. She nodded her head and stood up, prepared to help them. But she went to walk and she cringed a little as she stretched her muscles.

  “We’ll take care of this. Why don’t you rest and then you can sit outside for a bit.”

  She smiled and then walked toward the dishwasher and helped them anyway. She was a strong, stubborn woman. Maybe that was why they were all attracted to her? She was so much like them in that way.

  * * * *

  The following day India sat outside on the porch swing, the sound of country music echoing softly around her from the speakers outside. She knew that Ford and Flynn had gone to town for some groceries, that Fenton was over by the barn with the dogs, and that Grey and Fisher were headed to the house for lunch soon.

  She snuggled under the blanket Ford had insisted she cover herself with so she wouldn’t catch a chill in the crisp fall air. Truth was she loved the fall weather and everything about it. It was different here. The leaves were turning such gorgeous red, gold, and orange colors. The sounds of the wooded area in the distance made her think of pumpkin patches and apple stands. She had no idea why because the house itself was more like an estate than a house found on a ranch. But what did she know? She was a city girl.

  She closed her eyes, feeling so very tired. She hadn’t wanted to take the sleeping pills but it seemed to her that her nightmares were getting worse. Maybe if she closed her eyes right now and had a short nap, it would be enough to get her through another restless night?

  She glanced around. No one there. And she would surely hear the trucks pull up or Grey’s deputy patrol car when he stopped in for lunch.

  She snuggled deeper, rocked the bench swing, and closed her eyes as she absorbed the peacefulness around her.

  * * * *r />
  The dogs started whining as Fenton put away the balls and the other toys they usually messed around with. He wanted to check on India to see if she wanted to wait for Grey and Fisher to get there to have lunch or if she wanted to have something with him. His gut tightened as he thought about seeing her. He couldn’t get her off his mind, especially at night when he lay in bed alone with thoughts of her. She was incredibly gorgeous. She was sweet, sophisticated, witty, had those damn blue eyes, and of course that body of hers made him fantasize about having her every night. He’d awoken a few times in a cold sweat and swore he smelled her perfume in his room.

  He was becoming obsessed with the woman and trying so hard to ignore the attraction he felt. She would be leaving here sooner than later. Things in Chicago were already looking promising.

  The thought of her leaving their home made him feel sick. Magnum barked and then hightailed it toward the front of the house. The other two dogs followed and seemed to be concerned. He hadn’t heard any vehicles pull up and as he walked toward the porch his eyes locked onto India. The blanket was hanging from the bench, while she was moaning and crying in her sleep. Clint placed his head on her lap as Magnum and Charles whined next to her.

  Fenton called them away and he knelt down near the bench swing. Her blouse was opened slightly, and he got a glimpse of her large breasts and the lace bra she wore. His body reacted immediately.

  “India? India, honey, wake up,” Fenton told her. He didn’t want to touch her. He was afraid to feel more, and to want more. But she didn’t respond to his voice. He spoke to her again as he caressed her cheek and tried to wake her. She popped her eyes open and gasped then looked around her. She immediately appeared embarrassed as she used the back of her hand to wipe her wet eyes and cheeks.