Just One Kiss (Fool's Gold)

by Susan Mallery

  * * *

  ABOUT SEVEN-thirty that morning, Justice woke to the sound of running footsteps on the stairs. He’d barely had time to remember where he was when Lillie burst into his room.

  “It’s okay,” she yelled back down the stairs. “He’s awake.” She smiled at him. “Grandma said not to bother you, but I said you wouldn’t mind. Are you still hurt?”

  “A little, but it’s better than it was.”

  She studied him from the door, as if not sure if she should come in or not. He waved her closer.

  She stepped into the room. “Do you like my stuffed animals? I’m getting too old for them, but sometimes they’re nice company.”

  “I’m enjoying them. Thanks for sharing.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She was so like her mother, he thought. There were the odd bits that had to have come from her father, but mostly she was Patience’s daughter.

  Lillie moved to the side of the bed and lowered her voice. “I’m not supposed to know you were shot, but I heard at my friend’s last night. Her mom was talking. Were there bad guys? Like on TV?”

  In her world there were still good guys and bad guys, he thought. Where he had gone, there were only shades of gray. The rich oilman who had traveled to a part of Africa where the rules didn’t apply. There’d been an ambush and a shoot-out. He knew who had won, but in the scenario he’d just survived, he couldn’t say who was good and who was bad.

  “We were attacked,” he said instead.

  “Were you scared?”

  “Not when it happened. I didn’t have time. But later, my heart was beating fast.”

  She tilted her head. “It hurts, huh? Getting shot?”

  “It hurts.”

  Ava called for her granddaughter.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go eat breakfast,” Lillie said. “I’ll see you after school.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She clattered down the stairs as quickly as she’d run up. About a half hour later, he heard her leaving the house. A few minutes later, someone else started up toward his room. Felicia walked in, a tray in her hands.

  “Morning,” she said as she approached. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I was shot.”

  “That’s not good.” She set his breakfast on the dresser, then walked to the bed. “Can you sit up?”

  “Yes, and don’t help me.”

  She ignored his instructions and held out her arm so he could use it to pull himself upright. When he was leaning forward, she shoved all the pillows behind his back.

  “I’d forgotten how crabby you get when you don’t feel well,” she said cheerfully.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be.”

  “You don’t enjoy any physical manifestation of what you would view as weakness,” she said, placing the tray in front of him. “Nor do you like the reminder that you’re not in charge of every aspect of your life.”

  “Remind me not to invite you to my next party,” he grumbled, studying the scrambled eggs and bacon next to buttered toast. While he wasn’t hungry, he knew the value of eating. The nutrition was necessary to heal.

  “You don’t have parties. Besides, you wouldn’t invite me. You’d want me to plan it. I would attend by default.”

  He paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. “Felicia?”

  She dragged over the chair Patience had sat in earlier, then settled herself on the seat and sighed.

  “I’m emotionally unsettled and therefore prone to outbursts,” she told him. “Ignore me.”

  “Hard to do when you’re the only other person in the room.” He stared at her. “Look at me.”

  She turned her green eyes in his direction.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I’m sorry I made you feel as if I don’t value your company. I would want you at my party.”

  “You’re saying that because you think I’m upset and you don’t want to have to manage my feelings and because you feel guilty.”

  He chuckled. “Never give a guy a break.”

  “I’m just telling the truth.”

  “Fine. If I were to have a party, I would ask you to help, but I would still want you there. You’re all I have, kid.”

  She smiled. “That’s not true, either, but it’s nice that you said it.”

  “Thanks for bringing me breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He took a bite and chewed. “Don’t take this wrong, but why are you here?”

  “Patience called and asked for my help. She’s at work, Ava can’t climb the stairs and there was some concern that Lillie couldn’t manage a heavy tray.”

  “I’m a problem,” he said, knowing he had to leave as soon as possible.

  “You’re not a problem. They like you. They want to take care of you. I suggest you not try leaving. Patience was very angry with you yesterday. She was also upset about you bleeding. You should stay here while you can.”

  She spoke in her usual matter-of-fact tone. In his experience most women were ruled by their hearts more than their heads, but Felicia couldn’t ignore something as powerful as her brain. It wasn’t that she was especially logical; it was that she knew everything, in every situation.

  Which made her comment all the more curious. “While I can?”

  Felicia sighed. “They’re not like us. Patience, her family. This town. They’re so...”

  “Ordinary?”

  “Yes. This is exactly what I wanted. I said I wanted to live with regular people. To belong. But now that I’m here, I’m confused.”

  “I’m confused, too.”

  “You are?”

  He nodded. “It’s easier when the bullets are flying.”

  “Right. Because there’s no planning. You react and either live or die. But this place is all about ritual and nuance.” She opened, then closed her hands. “I want to fall in love.”

  He continued eating his breakfast.

  “You’re not reacting,” she said.

  “I know you don’t mean with me.”

  “I don’t. While you’re very physically attractive, I don’t have an internal, chemical reaction when you’re around. There are several possible explanations, if you want to hear them.”

  “No, thanks.”

  She nodded. “Do you remember Gideon?”

  He’d just taken a bite of toast. He forced himself to keep chewing. “Uh-huh.”

  “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  Justice swallowed. No point in avoiding the inevitable. “You’ve seen him?”

  “I heard him on the radio. I haven’t seen him. You know he’s the one I—”

  Justice wanted to put his hands on his ears and hum. “Yes, I know,” he said quickly, interrupting her, then swore. “You’re like a sister to me, Felicia. I don’t want to hear about you having sex with some guy.”

  “Despite being my first time, it was a very satisfying encounter.”

  He glared at her. “What part of ‘I don’t want to hear’ was unclear?”

  “I need to talk to someone about it.”

  “That’s what girlfriends are for.”

  She winced.

  He swore again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re stating the obvious. That is what girlfriends are for.”

  But she didn’t have any here. At least not yet. It wasn’t ever easy for Felicia to make friends.

  “Consuelo will be here soon,” he said, knowing it wasn’t enough.

  Consuelo was going to be one of the instructors. She was small but a great fighter. He never wanted her to know, but he was pretty sure Consuelo could seriously kick his ass.

  “We can talk,” he said, trying not to grit his teeth. “Until she gets here. You know, about Gideon.”

  “And my feelings?” she asked, her eyes bright with amusement.

  “Sure. Feelings are good.”

  She touched the back of his hand. �
��You’re very sweet to me.”

  “I want you to be okay. Happy.”

  “I am happy. Or I will be.” She drew back and shrugged. “Life is complicated.”

  She didn’t mean life; she meant relationships. “Do you, uh, want to be with Gideon? You know, date him or something?”

  “I don’t know. There was an attraction before. I would like to find out if that still exists and if it’s a precursor for other feelings or if we simply have a sexual connection.”

  Justice winced. “Okay, so you’ll talk to him and find out, right? That’s easy.”

  She smiled. “Right. Easy. You’re a lousy girlfriend.”

  “Because this is where we talk endlessly about the same thing over and over again?”

  “It helps. I understand that logically it shouldn’t. That repeating the same information without new input doesn’t resolve any issues, but I find the process comforting.” She shrugged. “It’s a girl thing. Something you’re going to have to get used to if you want to make your relationship with Patience a success.” She paused. “You do want that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. He pushed away his breakfast. “I want to, but I don’t know if I can.”

  There were obstacles. Dangers. Some he couldn’t explain. He ached for her, and not simply in his bed. But could he risk being with her?

  “Like you said, they’re so damned normal here,” he muttered.

  “You’re normal, too.”

  He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.

  “You are,” she insisted.

  “All evidence to the contrary?”

  “You’re not what you do for a living. I understand the male psyche likes to define itself through tasks, but you have to believe you are more than what you’ve accomplished.”

  “I’m not talking about accomplishments. I’m talking about killing people, Felicia. I’m talking about being a danger to everyone around me.”

  “You’re not Bart.”

  She knew about his father—knew what he’d been through and what his father had done to him.

  “You’ve left that behind you,” she added.

  “I left the job, but I can’t change what’s inside.” That’s what he feared the most. The darkness. “Every now and then I get the feeling he’s still here.”

  “He’s dead.”

  “So they tell me.”

  “Do you think they’re wrong? They identified him through dental records, Justice.”

  “I’d be happier if it had been through DNA. There’s still a margin of error.” He looked at her. “I mean it, Felicia. I don’t think he’s here on a spiritual plain. Sometimes I swear he’s really here. Nearby. Watching. Right before I passed out in front of Brew-haha I saw him.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  That was the hell of it, he thought. “No. I’m not sure.”

  “Has it occurred to you that you’re sensing your father more lately because you’re ready to make changes in your life? You’re used to being the warrior and now you’re going to be a...” She paused as if searching for the word, then grinned triumphantly. “A regular Joe. That’s what you want and it makes you uncomfortable at the same time.” Her smile faded. “You’re the one who always told me that the only way to get over being afraid was to walk up to the fear and kick it in the balls.”

  He managed a chuckle. “Yes, and usually you want to know why I think fear has a gender.”

  “Justice, you have to believe in yourself. You have so much to offer.”

  He knew she was right. The problem was, not all that he offered was good. If he couldn’t figure out a way to walk away from his past, he was a danger to everyone around him. He wouldn’t hurt Patience or her family for anything and if he thought he might, if there was the slightest chance he could, then walking away from her was the only option.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  PATIENCE WIPED DOWN the counter. It was ten-thirty and only a few people were in the store. Day five in the life of Brew-haha and all was going well.

  There was a steady stream of customers from the moment she opened until around nine. Then things slowed until closer to lunch. There was another late-afternoon rush followed by a post-dinner surge. So far they’d had to toss people out at closing.

  Just as exciting, the merchandise was selling well. Brew-haha mugs and aprons were moving briskly. She’d reordered both yesterday, and if sales kept up like this, she would have sold her projected numbers for an entire month in the first week.

  She knew that some of the sales came from locals, and once they had their inventory, they wouldn’t bother to buy more anytime soon. However, she’d been keeping track and nearly sixty percent of the purchases were from tourists, which was a very happy piece of news. Because tourists were forever.

  The front door opened and a tall, thin blonde walked in. Patience studied her for a second before remembering.

  “Hi, Noelle,” she said. “Thanks for coming back.”

  “I wanted to see how you were doing with your new store. I came by yesterday, but you were really busy.”

  Patience held up her right hand with the first two fingers crossed. “So far things are going great. I’m happy.” She motioned to a quiet table by the window. “Do you have a second to stay?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Patience walked behind the counter. “What can I get you?”

  “A latte, please.”

  A few minutes later Patience carried over two lattes and a plate of cookies. The other woman was thin enough that she wasn’t sure Noelle ate things like sugar or chocolate, but her mother had raised her to always offer a snack with a beverage.

  “Thanks,” Noelle said, taking the mug. “I love what you’ve done with the store. It’s inviting without being fussy.” She smiled. “I’m much more a fussy type of person.”

  Patience smiled. “Sounds like you’d have a lot in common with my daughter. She has every stuffed animal she’s ever owned.” Most of them were currently curled up with Justice—a place Patience wouldn’t mind being herself, she thought with a sigh.

  “I can respect her commitment to the child–stuffed animal relationship,” Noelle said, her blue eyes bright with amusement. She took a sip of her latte. “It’s perfect.”

  “Thank you. The machine makes it easy. It was a huge part of our start-up costs, but worth it. You mentioned you were thinking of opening a store yourself. Is that still going to happen?”

  Noelle nodded. “I’ve signed a lease. I’m hoping to get my place open by mid-August.” She took a breath. “It’s a Christmas store. The Christmas Attic.”

  “I love it,” Patience said. “It’s perfect for this town. You’ll bring in some tourists all year round and then go crazy at the holidays.”

  “I hope so. That’s why I want to open plenty early. So I can get myself together in time for the holiday rush.” She took another sip of her drink. “There’s a lot to do to get started.”

  Patience leaned toward her. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I thought I was drowning and I barely have any inventory compared to what you’ll be doing.”

  “I’ve been having lots of fun figuring out what I want to carry. There are several national and international gift shows. I’ve gone to a couple and was seriously overwhelmed. Now I’m talking to distributors and looking for artists. I want to have more unique items, if possible.”

  “Sounds ambitious.”

  “It is. I hope I’m up to it.”

  Patience hesitated, not wanting to pry. “Do you come from a retail background?”

  “Not at all.” Noelle hesitated. “I’m a lawyer, or I was. I grew up in Florida and moved to Los Angeles.”

  Lawyer to retail? Patience would bet there was a story that went with that decision. “You have both coasts covered.”

  “The southern part of them.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “I put a pin in a map. When I opened my eyes, it was stuck in F
ool’s Gold, so here I am.” She sipped again. “I was ready to make a change.”

  Which didn’t give Patience much information and left her with a lot of questions. But Noelle didn’t seem to want to share her entire life story. People from other places expected privacy. It took them a while to figure out that in a small town, there weren’t many secrets.

  “I’m glad you found us,” she said instead. “And I can’t wait for the store to open.”

  “My grandmother helped raise me and I remember she always talked about what it was like when she was little. She grew up in New England. Their house had an attic. She made it sound like a wonderful place, filled with old treasures. I want to re-create that. Sort of. You know, in an upscale, appealingly retail kind of way.”

  “Of course.”

  She studied Noelle. The other woman was pretty, if a little too pale. More ethereal, she thought, then glanced at Noelle’s left hand. There wasn’t a ring and she couldn’t tell if she saw a slight indentation where one had been or was imagining it.

  “Did you bring any family with you?” she asked.

  “No. There’s just me. I packed up my place in L.A. and moved it all here. I’m renting here until I get the store up and running. I was a little nervous about being in a new town, but everyone has been very friendly.”

  “It’s a Fool’s Gold thing. We’re welcoming.” Patience picked up her latte. “You know, there are a few new businesses in town. You and me. My friend Isabel is running her family’s wedding-gown store. It’s called Paper Moon. It’s not a permanent move for her, but she’s been thrown into the retail world, as well. We should start a support group. I’ll talk to Mayor Marsha about it.”

  “Really? That would be great. I keep reading statistics about how many new businesses fail. I don’t want to be one of them.”

  “Me, either,” Patience said. “I’m terrified I’m going to really screw things up.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry. I’m hearing wonderful things about your store. But if you get nervous, let me know if I can help.”

  “I will,” Patience told her. “Thank you.”

  Noelle laughed. “I’m not being all that nice. I might need you to return the favor later this year.”