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Three Little Words

Page 6

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “What kind of moron goes around hitting other people?”

“I—”

“Tell me he’s okay. Damn it, Ford, I can’t believe you did this.”

“He—”

“Oh, sure. Blame it on Leonard. Do you think I don’t know why he went to see you?” She poked him in the chest. “Since you’ve been back in town, you’re all he could talk about. How he wanted to apologize and make things right. It’s been fourteen years. How on earth could anyone still be holding a grudge?”

“I—”

She glared at him. “You are over what happened, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He paused to assess the truth of the statement. “Very.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. “Not that you’re not lovely.”

She shoved him back a couple of steps. For a woman of her size and pregnancy trimester, she packed a punch. “You hit him!”

“He asked me to. He insisted. I didn’t hit him that hard. He hit his head on the way down. It wasn’t my fault.” He moved back voluntarily, thinking the more room between him and Maeve, the better.

“He’s a responsible person, unlike you,” she snapped. “The father of four and a half children. Did you think of that when you tried to kill him?”

“I didn’t try to kill him. Look, Leonard came to me.”

“Yes, and I expected you to be the adult in the situation. I see that was wrong. You’re exactly who you were when you left.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

She narrowed her gaze. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair. That my husband and the father of my children is in the hospital with a concussion because of what you did.”

“He hit his head,” Ford repeated helplessly.

The door to the waiting room opened and two uniformed officers walked in. The taller of the two women moved toward him. “Ford Hendrix?” she asked.

He nodded.

“We’re going to have to take a statement.”

“Serves you right,” Maeve told him. “I hope they lock you away forever.”

She stalked off. Ford followed the police officers to a quiet corner of the waiting area and knew his life couldn’t get any worse.

Only he was wrong because, just when he was explaining what had happened, his mother arrived. She hurried over to him.

“See?” she said, her voice oddly triumphant. “None of this would have happened if you’d just gotten married like I told you.”

* * *

FORD PACED THE LENGTH of Isabel’s kitchen. She watched him move, feeling a little like watching one of the powerful cats at the zoo. She was standing close enough to sense his frustration and energy, but she didn’t have to worry about him turning on her and expecting her to be dinner.

The analogy made her smile. Now that she knew her brother-in-law was going to be fine, she could see the humor in the situation. Not that Ford had gotten there yet.

“It’s not my fault,” he muttered for maybe the thousandth time since he’d arrived. “He wanted me to hit him. He begged me.”

“Next time you shouldn’t listen.”

He turned to her. “Thanks for the news flash.”

“Hey, don’t take your temper out on me. I’m not the one who coldcocked a guy six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter. A guy who wears glasses.”

Ford groaned. “He took them off and put them in his pocket. It’s so Leonard.”

She stepped in front of him. “Look, he’s going to be fine. He explained what happened and his story matched yours. He’s not pressing charges. You’re right. It’s not your fault he hit his head.”

“Tell Maeve that.”

Isabel had heard that her sister had gone a little crazy when she’d been told what had happened.

“She and Leonard have been together a long time. She loves him. She didn’t expect her ex-fiancé to beat the crap out of him and leave him for dead.”

Ford flinched.

She grabbed him by the upper arms. “Sorry. I’m teasing. Everything is okay.”

“They’re keeping him overnight for observation.”

“A precaution.”

“Maeve is pregnant. She has four other kids.”

“I come from a long line of good breeders.”

His dark eyes remained troubled. “I could have killed him.”

“He’s going to be fine. Obviously he’s been waiting for this moment for years. You’ve given him closure and a great story. In the future, keep your bullying ways for your tough friends.”

“I know,” he muttered, then shook his head. “I thought I was making things better for Leonard. I thought...”

Not knowing what else to do, Isabel tried to pull Ford close. He was about as movable as a house, so instead she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him.

He was taller than her, broader and solid muscle. But he was also warm and in need, so she hung on, even when he just stood there.

After a couple of seconds, he put his arms around her and hugged her back. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, thinking this was nice. This was—

Without wanting to, she noticed her br**sts were nestled right against his chest. And that her thighs were brushing his. She found herself getting a little tingly and thinking it would be nice if he kissed her again. Only this time, with a little passion and maybe some tongue.

The concept was so shocking she jumped back. Fortunately, Ford didn’t seem to notice her retreat or her panic.

“If you’d heard my mother,” he said, bracing his hand on the granite countertops. “She lit into me something fierce. She kept going on and on about how I needed to settle down, and if I would just get married, she could be happy. She brought up those women she’d found. She wants me to look at the applications.”

“I don’t think having a girlfriend would have stopped you from hitting Leonard.”

“Probably not. Still, it would get my mother off my back.” He turned his head and looked at her. “You’re a woman.”

She held up both hands. “Thanks for noticing, but no.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You’re leaving, so there’d be no misunderstanding between us. You wouldn’t want me to fall in love with you.”

She was pretty sure he was suggesting some kind of fake relationship, and the answer to that was a very firm “No.”

“Come on, Isabel, I’m desperate. Look at what’s happening to me.”

“You hit a guy. You did that yourself. Nothing is happening.” She made air quotes about the last word. “Leonard is fine. Do a better job of hiding from your mother. It’ll be okay.”

He straightened and turned toward her. Funny how, until right this second, she hadn’t been aware of how much Ford filled up her kitchen.

“It’s more than that,” he said, sounding defeated. “Everybody said I’d been in too long. That I would have trouble adjusting to civilian life. I didn’t believe them, but they were right.”

She wanted to stomp her foot. How was she supposed to fight against the “I’ve been off serving my country” card?

“You’re adjusting very well. This is a teeny, tiny setback.”

“And there’s my mother.”

“I’ll admit that Denise is a challenge.”

“More than a challenge.” His dark gaze settled on her face. “All this time I’ve been away, keeping you safe.”

She took a step back. “No,” she said firmly. “You’re not going to try that again.”

“Risking my life while you went to prom and got laid in college.”

She covered her ears with her hands and started to hum. He raised his voice.

“You promised to love me forever. I have proof. In writing.”

She lowered her hands. “Stop it right now.”

“You went back on your word and broke my heart.” He hung his head, as if defeated.

She stared at him. For a second she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like if he were actually speaking the truth. If he did love her, the way Leonard loved Maeve—with his entire being. Or if not Ford, then someone. Because Eric had never loved her. Not as more than a good friend.

She gathered her resolve and smiled at him. “You’re going to have to solve this another way because I’m not going to be your fake girlfriend.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m doomed.”

“So it would seem. Want a beer?”

His head came up and he grinned. “Sure.”

“And like that, he’s healed.”

“Hey, I’m a simple guy.”

CHAPTER FOUR

TWO DAYS LATER, Ford walked into Leonard’s spacious office. His friend sat behind a large desk. There was a big window behind him and bookcases on both sides. The space belonged to a successful man with plenty of money. Little Leonard had come a long way.

The man in question rose when he saw Ford and walked around his desk.

“Good to see you,” Ford told him as they shook hands.

Leonard pointed to a sofa and leather chairs opposite the window. “I appreciate you stopping by.”

When they were seated, Ford studied his friend. “You okay?”

Leonard pushed up his glasses, then touched the side of his head. “It only hurts when I breathe.” He smiled. “I’m kidding. I’m fine.”

“How’s the jaw?”

“Painful.”

Ford felt like shit. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I asked you to. I begged for it.” Leonard smiled as he spoke. “Come on, Ford. We both know I had it coming.”

“I should have said no.”

“You did the right thing. You gave me closure. I hit my head all on my own.”

“Did you tell that to Maeve?”

“More than once. She’s considering forgiving you. I wouldn’t expect a Christmas card, though.”

Ford nodded. “She was pissed at the hospital.”

“Maeve takes our relationship seriously. She’s explained she’s not ready for me to die.”

“That’s nice,” Ford said, knowing there wasn’t anyone who felt that way about him. Not romantically. If he did die, he didn’t doubt his mother would travel to the afterlife and drag him back, if she could. But the caring between a man and his wife—that was different.

He’d thought he’d loved Maeve once. Enough that he’d proposed. But after she’d ended things, he’d gotten over her faster than he should have. The other day, at the hospital, he’d felt nothing. More proof of what he’d always suspected.

He wasn’t an “in love” kind of guy. He liked women. He liked being with them and most of the time he enjoyed dating. But then they got serious and he got itchy feet. Having a woman say “Let’s take this to the next level” was the fastest way to get him gone. He would request a transfer, move on and start the whole damn process again. Unlike Leonard, who’d been with the same woman over a decade.

“You’ve got those kids,” Ford said. “Big family.”

Leonard’s shoulders went back as his expression filled with pride. “Two boys, two girls. We swore we were done and I was about to get a vasectomy when Maeve said she wanted one more. This time I’m going under the knife while she’s still recovering. That way she’ll be too distracted to stop me. Five kids is plenty.”

“Must be loud,” he said, remembering what it was like when he’d been growing up. He was one of six.

“I want to say controlled chaos,” Leonard admitted. “But it’s more uncontrolled. Maeve knows what’s going on, though. She’s terrific.”

“Still a beauty.”

“You know it.” Leonard looked at him. “I feel guilty for staying here and living my life while you were off serving. I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Ford waved away the thanks. “I took a different path. I’m glad you’re okay.”

They stood and shook hands again. “We should get together sometime,” Leonard said. “Grab a beer.”

“I’d like that.”

His friend smiled. “I know this sounds strange, but thanks for hitting me. It made things right between us. I know Maeve will never understand, but I’m hoping you do.”

Ford nodded. “We’re even, bro. Next time, don’t fall on your head.”

“Next time I’m kicking your ass.”

“Sure you are,” Ford said, holding in a grin.

* * *

CONSUELO STROLLED THROUGH the center of Fool’s Gold. The Máa-zib Festival was in full swing. Around her, booths sold everything from jewelry to Celtic music. There was a food court and later the promise of live music by the park.

She’d been in town only a few months, but she’d quickly learned that the rhythm of life here was measured by the steady parade of festivals. The obvious pun made her smile as she ducked around a family walking along the sidewalk. Every month there were at least a couple of festivals and even more around the holidays. There were tourists everywhere, but she’d met enough locals to be able to offer plenty of waves and smiles.

She was on her own today. Something she was used to, but since moving here she’d made lots of female friends. A change she appreciated. But Patience was busy working at Brew-haha and Saturdays were busy for Isabel at Paper Moon. Felicia was running the festival and Noelle had realized that her plans to open her new store—the Christmas Attic—on Labor Day weekend meant days spent unpacking stock. Consuelo had offered to help. Noelle had promised to take her up on that soon, but this weekend she wanted to be by herself to figure out where everything went.

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