after. If they’re late or mouthy?”
“It’s one way to deal with problems.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “So, what’s the next step?”
“Plumber, electrician and the contractor all fight for space.” She led the way to the main counter. “See the big squares? Those are the espresso machines. They have to be plumbed for water and hardwired into the electrical system. The cold and display cases are already on their way. The espresso machines will arrive on Monday.”
The details were both a distraction from being so close to Justice and a direct route to a twirly tummy. She pressed her hand against her midsection.
“All the professional work will be done within two weeks. Then comes the fun stuff. Painting, cleaning, setting up. We’ll do a work party for that. Then another week to pull it all together, train whatever staff we hire, and then we open.”
He faced her. “A work party?”
“Sure. We put out the word that we need help and people will show up and do whatever needs doing.” Patience tilted her head. “I’ve been to tons of them but have never asked for help. It feels weird, but I can’t take care of everything myself, and paying the contractor for the simple stuff chews up too much of the budget.”
“Another small-town benefit?” he asked.
She smiled. “We could come help you, if you’d like. Stock the shelves with lethal darts and pens that use invisible ink.”
“I think we’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.” He studied her. “You never wanted to live anywhere else?”
“This is home. Do you think there’s somewhere better?”
“Not for you. You belong here.”
She wasn’t sure if his words were a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe they just were and she should go with it.
She opened her mouth to say something else, then happened to catch sight of his watch. “Is that the time?”
He held out his arm so she could see more clearly. “It’s accurate.”
“I have highlights in ten minutes.”
He pushed her toward the door. “Go. I’ll lock up and drop off the key.”
“Really? Thanks.”
She bolted out the door.
She almost wished he wouldn’t be so nice, she thought as she hurried toward the salon. Justice was enough of a temptation without being thoughtful and sweet, too. With everything going on, she found herself feeling more vulnerable than usual.
Yes or no, she thought. Yes to Justice and possible disaster, but such a thrill ride. Or no. Which really meant yes to being sensible.
She wanted it all, she realized. The man who made her tingle and laugh, who was also dangerous and mysterious. She wanted uncertainty and a sure thing. An impossible combination.
* * *
JUSTICEDID AS he promised. He locked up the store, then returned the key to Patience. She was busy painting some mixture onto thin strips of hair, then wrapping them in what looked a lot like aluminum foil.
The mysteries of being a woman, he thought as he ducked out of the salon before he was noticed. But he was happy to help her. Being around Patience relaxed him. He felt better when she was in the room. The sexual attraction was a problem he hadn’t solved. Giving in was the easiest solution, but then what? How did that help her? Excluding all the ways he planned to please her, of course.
He’d never been the kind of man who settled into relationships. Between his work and his past, he knew he wasn’t a good bet. So far, resisting the call of settling down had been easy, but lately...
He shook off the thought and headed down the street. As he reached the corner, he saw a man walking in front of him. The guy was tall, with dark hair. There was something familiar about him. Something that put Justice on alert. He knew the other man wouldn’t start the fight, but he would end it.
By the time Justice had closed the gap, the information was in place. So when the guy turned, Justice was able to put the name with the face and know there wasn’t any danger. Not yet, at least.
“Gideon Boylan,” he said.
The dark-haired man didn’t look surprised. “Garrett.”
Gideon looked like a dozen other guys Justice knew. Scarred, tattooed and dangerous. He had a scar by his eyebrow, but Justice was sure there were others. In their line of work, it wasn’t a matter of if you were injured but rather when.
“Funny seeing you here,” Justice said.
“I heard you were in town. It was just a matter of time until we ran into each other.”
“You live here?”
Gideon nodded. “Moved here last year.” He glanced around at the quiet street and tidy storefronts. “Hell of a place.” He returned his attention back to Justice. “Ford told me about it. One day I had nowhere else to go, so I thought I’d swing by. Decided to stay.”
Justice knew there was a whole lot more to the story. Gideon had worked black ops. The kind that took a man so deep he often couldn’t find his way back. From what Justice had been told, Gideon had been captured. The nature of his mission meant he wasn’t sanctioned and therefore couldn’t be missing. And if you weren’t missing, no one came looking.
From what Justice had pieced together, nearly two years had passed before Ford Hendrix and Angel Whittaker had found Gideon. After that much torture and captivity, he’d been more dead than alive.
Obviously he’d recovered. At least on the outside. There was no way to know about the internal scars. People thought the real danger of what soldiers did was physical. The truth was the worst damage was often in the heart and in the mind. How you were changed by everything you saw during war. That’s what couldn’t always be fixed.
“What do you do here?” Justice asked.
“I bought a couple of radio stations. I’m the night DJ. Oldies mostly. Some talk. Hell, I don’t know if anyone’s listening, but so far I haven’t been run out of town.” He offered a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
The smile faded. “I wouldn’t have thought Fool’s Gold was your kind of place.”
“I spent a year or so here when I was a kid,” Justice said. “Ford kept reminding me about it, and one day I decided to come back.” He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket and passed it over.
Gideon took it. “CDS. Cerberus Defense Sector.” The smile returned. “The three-headed dog that guards hell? Talk about delusions of grandeur.”
Justice chuckled. “It seemed appropriate. It’s me, Ford and Angel.”
“Angel’s
