A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

Like an interloper.

  She didn’t belong in this cozy family atmosphere. She didn’t really belong anywhere.

  As beautifully wrapped gifts were pressed toward her, she tried not to be too conspicuous. But her smile felt wooden, her face stiff.

  She detested being the center of attention—at least for something like this. If she drew attention kicking ass, well, so be it. That she didn’t mind so much. She was good at that. In the middle of a low-class bar, she fit right in.

  Here…not so much.

  On this hot afternoon, near a lake, after dinner off a grill, eaten from a patio table, her inexpensive shorts and top should have been appropriate. But next to the other women, even though they wore similar outfits, she looked…cheap. Their casual clothes were somehow classier. Richer. Better-fitting.

  They had polished fingernails and pedicures. They had salon-styled hair and lotion-rich skin.

  She’d never cared about that stuff. She wanted her clothes to be comfortable, period. She made sure that the legs of her jeans hid her ankle holster, and her tops had to be long and loose enough to conceal the sheath for her knife, usually fastened at the small of her back. That mattered.

  Style did not. Keeping up with fashion had never been her forte.

  Now she sort of wished she’d put some thought into it instead of stewing over the whole swimming thing.

  With her long red hair in a thick braid, Priss looked elegant, especially in the breezy and colorful cover-up she wore over her swimsuit. And Molly in her white cotton capris and tailored halter defined chic.

  In her feminine sundress and designer sandals, Alani was the classiest. Even the way the breeze teased her pale blond hair seemed affected for style. Right now, Alani had a hand protectively over her middle—and Jackson had his hand over hers. Though she wasn’t showing yet, they were both so excited about the pregnancy.

  A baby.

  The idea boggled Arizona’s mind. The only thing she knew about kids was that they scared her. But Jackson assured her over and over that she’d be a great aunt. He didn’t seem to find that whole idea absurd—and oddly, neither did Alani.

  But who knew? She might not even be around by the time the baby was born, so why should she worry about being a bad influence?

  In her ear, Chris, Dare’s right-hand man, said, “Chin up, kiddo, or everyone will think you’re glum.”

  Crap. Arizona glanced up and found them all waiting on her. Their expressions varied from indulgent to amused to concerned.

  Chris, always easy to be around, sat to her right. He gave her a nudge. “Start with the small packages,” he suggested, “and you can work up to the bigger stuff.”

  Bigger stuff? No, she didn’t even want to know. Accepting the box he handed to her, she gave a gruff, “Thanks,” and untied the ribbon.

  It surprised her to find three gifts inside: a camera, an empty photo album and a framed photo of her with Jackson and Alani. She stared at it blankly.

  “I snuck and took it,” Chris told her, “because Alani wanted you to have a family photo, but she also wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Her heart lodged in her throat. Jackson and Alani stood together, facing the camera, full of smiles, while she wore a silly smirk, her gaze on Jackson. It looked as if she’d been laughing at something he said.

  “I love that crooked grin,” Alani told her.

  Jackson reached across the table to tweak a long hank of her hair. “It’s cute.”

  Cute. Not a word usually applied to her, and maybe that was what she loved most about Jackson—he saw her differently than others did.

  It was also a problem, because in the most important ways—like attitude and determination—she wasn’t different at all. And for a woman to be like Jackson…well, it was hard for others to accept. It was especially difficult for macho, protective guys.

  Like Jackson, Dare, Trace…and Spencer.

  But, yeah, in the photo, she didn’t look bad. She actually looked…happy.

  Swallowing hard, she forced herself to face Alani. “It’s great.” More wonderful than she’d ever imagined anything could be. “Thank you.”

  “So you like it?”

  Luckily it was a five-by-seven, not larger, because she didn’t have a wall to hang it on. She lived out of her trunk, utilizing motel rooms and other various dives. But, yes, she liked it very, very much. Maybe she could attach it to the dash of her car somehow.

  Words seemed impossible, so she nodded.

  “It’s a digital camera, so you can hook it up to any computer and print off more pictures. Eventually you’ll fill the album.” Alani smiled at her. “It’d be nice for you to have photos of all your family.”

  Leaning in, Chris bumped shoulders with her. “She means us, you know. We’re adopting you whether you like it or not.”

  “Hey, what’s not to like?” Jackson grinned at her. “If she can tolerate Trace, the rest of us are cake.”

  “Ha!” Priss stretched across the table to smack Jackson. “Trace is the best part and you know it, Jackson Savor!”

  “Depends on who you talk to,” he told her while ducking another swat from her. “You can’t take Trace’s word for it.”

  Trace pulled Priss back to his side.

  Playful insults ensued, along with lots of camaraderie and laughter. They all interacted so comfortably. They were a family, in the truest sense of the word.

  But she had no idea how to fit in.

  Her heart aching, Arizona glanced over at Jackson. In so many ways, he’d tried to include her. But he would soon marry Alani, and not long after that, he’d have a baby.

  His own family. A real family.

  Not for a second was Jackson oblivious to Alani—what she did, how she moved, probably her every thought. All through dinner he had watched her eat, his intense scrutiny of her mouth almost embarrassing. His awareness of her was palpable and very sweet.

  How could she ever intrude on that?

  Chris bumped his knee into hers, jarring her from her melancholy yet again.

  She eyed him and caught his look of understanding.

  “Don’t let the inmates get to you.” He handed her another gift.

  “I like hearing everyone joke around,” she admitted.

  “There you go,” Chris said. “Can’t beat ’em, so you may as well join ’em. Now stop hedging and open another gift.”

  She received some funny T-shirts from Priss and Trace. One said, “Power in a Ponytail.” That made her laugh, especially since that was how she often wore her hair. Another said, “A Real Princess Can Save Herself,” and that was so absurd, she snickered. “Nice. I love them.”

  From Molly and Dare she received a small bottle of perfume that smelled like heaven, along with some very feminine hair clips that, oddly enough, she liked, even though they were far more girly than anything she’d ever purchased.

  Chris took one from her and stuck it awkwardly in her hair, making Molly laugh.

  Dare leaned in and repositioned it. “Very pretty,” he pronounced.

  “Really?”

  Jackson laughed. “You could shave your head and still be stunning, Arizona, but, yeah, it looks great.”

  “You have such amazing hair,” Molly said.

  And everyone agreed.

  Blushing, Arizona glanced at Spencer.

  He winked, then handed her another gift. “This one is from me.”

  She accepted the gift. “When did you have time to do this?”

  “I found a website that’d expedite things, and then had it sent here overnight.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.” He smiled. “The hardest part was using the internet without you catching me at it.”

 
“Sneaky.” Amazed that he’d managed it without her knowing, Arizona took care not to rip the pretty paper as she peeled it away. Moving aside layers of tissue, she unveiled a stunning silver jewelry box with her initials ornately engraved in the lid.

  It looked expensive, and incredibly personal.

  Since she had only a few pieces of jewelry, none of it costly, she didn’t understand. But because it was from Spencer, she loved it. Coasting her fingertips over the engraving, she said, “It’s amazing.”

  “Look inside,” Spencer told her.

  “Oh, okay.” Without even realizing it, she held her breath as she lifted the lid—and found a matching jewelry set of bracelet, necklace, earrings and ring, all with her birthstone.

  The pieces were delicate and so very, very pretty.

  Sunlight glinted on the stones and in the silver. She lifted out the bracelet. “It’s all… It’s…” Moisture gathered in her eyes. Damn it, she would not cry. “I’ve never seen stuff so pretty.”

  “Maybe someone should have gotten her a mirror,” Chris quipped, and the women quickly shushed him.

  Spencer reached for her hand, took the bracelet from her and latched it around her wrist. Still holding her fingers in his, he said, “Everyone should celebrate their actual birth date.”

  “Not a made-up date,” Jackson told her. “With us, it’s the real thing.”

  “Although much as I like a party,” Chris added, “we could always celebrate birthdays real and staged.”

  Arizona looked around at everyone, marveling at them.

  Molly sat on Dare’s lap. He accepted that as ordinary, as expected, looping his arms around her and kissing her ear with honest affection. “Same here. Any excuse to get together with friends and family is okay by me.”

  “Next will be the wedding,” Alani said, and she looked at Spencer. “I expect both of you there.”

  “Arizona has already agreed to bring me along.”

  Right. Spencer was the one who’d agreed so that she wouldn’t have to attend alone. But she appreciated his discretion.

  When Alani spoke of her pregnancy next, Trace just smiled, hugging Priss closer into his side. She whispered something in his ear that made him go still, and, his eyes glittering, he whispered back, “Behave.” But he kissed her, and Priss, wearing an evil grin, rested her head on his shoulder.

  Despite their career paths, the men were generous and attentive.

  Despite the husbands they’d chosen, the women were confident and happy.

  For Arizona, it was all such an alien concept—to be…content.

  She’d never known contentment. She’d never known that level of peace. She tried to fake it around them, but even now, even with them going out of their way to include her, she knew she didn’t belong.

  Given the way Spencer watched her, he probably knew it, too.

  Now that she’d opened her gifts, Arizona thought about slipping away before they decided to swim. But…they’d only follow. Earlier, before they’d eaten, she’d tried that. But everywhere she went, they followed like she was the Pied Piper or something. They were determined to include her.

  She didn’t want to be the spoilsport, not when they were all relaxed and comfortable.

  “Thank you all so much. I don’t even know what to say about all the fuss and—”

  Chris stood. “You’re not done yet.” He unearthed one more gift from beneath the piles of wrapping paper. “You still need to open my present to you.”

  “Another gift?” Never in her life had she been given so much. “I’m speechless.” Unnerved by all the attention, Arizona opened the gift—and stared in disbelief. She almost forgot to breathe.

  Grinning like a sinner, Chris said, “Well?”

  “Oh, my God.” She wheezed in air, and each word she spoke rose higher and higher. “Are you freaking kidding me?” She lifted out the heavy knife, the same one she’d been saving for, and hefted it in her palm. “Oh, my God, Chris, it’s awesome!”

  Silence fell around the table.

  Neither she nor Chris cared.

  “You like it?” Chris asked.

  “Are you serious? Look at that blade! Look at the anodized titanium handles, the double thumb openers.” She turned it this way and that. “What’s not to like?”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Dumbfounded, moved by emotion, she shook her head. “How did you know?”

  “I listen. I heard you talk about it.” He gave a telling look to the others. “And I knew it’d make you happy.” He bent to see her face. “At least, I hope it did.”

  Over the moon with incredulous joy, she carefully set the knife back in the box.

  “Arizona?”

  She threw herself against Chris’s chest and felt his arms come around her. Fighting off tears wasn’t easy.

  She loved the gifts, all of them, but that knife…it was as if Chris actually knew her, really knew her—and liked her anyway.

  He chuckled at her tight hold. “I take it it’s the right one?”

  “I was saving for it!”

  “Now you can spend your money on something else.”

  She hugged him so fiercely that he groaned and pretended to collapse, so she levered back and grabbed his face. Despite his look of surprise at her intent, she planted a big, five-second smooching kiss right on his handsome mouth, ending with a loud, “Mmmwwah!”

  “Whoa,” Chris said once she freed him. “Try that with any other guy and you’d probably find yourself hauled off to bed.”

  “No other guy could be you.” Joy clogged her throat. “You’re amazing, Chris. Just…amazing.”

  “Like the knife?”

  “Yes, amazing like the knife.” Arizona released him to beam at the others.

  Jackson stared. Trace cleared his throat. Dare rubbed his mouth. The women watched wide-eyed.

  But so what? For once, she didn’t give a damn what any of them thought.

  And then she saw Spencer’s dark expression. So he didn’t like her kissing Chris?

  Or was it the knife he didn’t like?

  Well, tough titty. She didn’t care what he thought, either. “It’s the knife,” she told him. “The one I told you I was saving for. I showed it to you in a magazine, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Chris paid no more attention to his disapproval than she did. “There’s a sheath to go with it, but I didn’t get that. Sorry.”

  “I have one that’ll do.” She reached back, realized she’d left the knife at home, and shrugged. “I left it at Spencer’s, but really, this is already too much. Too extravagant, too—”

  “I can afford it,” Chris told her, sounding serious for the first time. “And you deserve it.”

  Why she would deserve such a gift, she couldn’t imagine. But then, she knew she didn’t deserve any of it.

  Yet here she was, in the middle of her very first birthday party, surrounded by gifts.

  Any second now, the dampness filling her eyes would fall. She held the knife to her chest, a cherished gift. “Thank you. Everyone. Seriously. It’s all great. I’m just…” Overwhelmed, she let out a shaky breath. “I’m floored. I never expected…”

  They smiled at her.

  Crap. One more second of their kindness, and she’d be a goner. “Yeah, so, thanks. Again. A lot.” Her throat felt tighter. “So…I’m going to take this stuff to Spencer’s truck. You know, to make sure nothing happens to any of it.”

  Feeling like the biggest coward alive, she turned and literally ran so fast that Tai and Sargie perked up. Excited by a possible game, the dogs chased after her.

  Arizona knew she’d have to return, and very soon, otherwise they’d all come looking
for her. But God willing, she’d get her emotions under control before then.

  She’d rather be thrown into another river than let everyone see her weeping like a girl.

  * * *

  HARRY’S HOCKS HAD SHUT down weeks ago, but that only made it cheap to rent.

  For a few hours.

  He needed no more time than that.

  After she’d been made…suitably pliable, he’d move her. He’d get her settled in, and he’d enjoy her at his leisure.

  Thinking about it, imagining how she’d be, how he’d make her be, he rubbed his hands together. She might not be grateful at first, but eventually she’d be thanking him, maybe even begging him.

  He laughed with pleasure at that image. Once he explained to her how he’d saved her, taking her from a worse situation, accepting her when no one else would want her, then she’d show proper gratitude. Now, with him, she wouldn’t be sold.

  He would offer her comfort, and in return, she would give him…everything.

  He would demand nothing less.

  * * *

  SPENCER WANTED TO GO after Arizona, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that. It was bad enough, watching her draw comparisons, knowing she thought she didn’t fit in. But seeing that wealth of emotion in her expression had nearly leveled him.

  All because of a knife.

  And not just any knife, but a knife meant to do damage. A knife meant for a skilled combatant.

  A knife she knew how to use and had wanted for just that purpose.

  A gift that damn near brought her to tears.

  He didn’t know what to do.

  Chris began gathering up the torn and discarded wrapping paper.

  Jackson stood to scowl at him. “What the hell, Chris?”

  Spencer sat back, content to think about things, about Arizona’s reaction—and Chris’s obvious insight.

  “Did you see her face? I’d say, so far, today has been a success.”

  Dare shook his head. “You realize you just set us all back, right? We’re trying to get her away from danger.”

  “Not encourage her into it,” Trace added.

  “You’re trying to change her,” Chris pointed out but not with much accusation. He looked at Spencer. “She doesn’t want to change.”