Two of a Kind. Сьюзен Мэллери
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and then before he had known what he was doing, he was asking her to stay.
In his house.
He rarely had anyone over, didn’t like visitors or surprises or change. Sure, the sex had been great, but why hadn’t he encouraged her to leave? And what was he doing walking into Brew-haha today?
He held the door open for a couple of older tourists, then stepped inside. Felicia was behind the counter, her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her curvy body covered with a cheerful apron sporting the coffee shop’s logo.
She didn’t notice him right away, giving him a chance to study her. Her green eyes were wide and filled with amusement. She was smiling. Sunlight filtered in through the sparkling windows, illuminating her face.
She was beautiful—the result of a horrible car accident in her late teens and subsequent plastic surgery. After their night together in Thailand, he’d made it his business to find out who she was. It had taken two months, but he’d finally tracked her down. He’d seen the picture of her before the surgery, and while she was more conventionally attractive now, she’d been just as appealing back then. He’d thought about going to see her. Only, he’d known better.
Despite his studies, despite the meditation and Tai Chi, the long runs and the superficial calm, he wasn’t like everyone else. He was broken in so many places, he would never be whole. That which wasn’t broken was missing. He’d known better than to inflict himself on her.
Now he’d found her again, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what to do about her.
He walked to the counter and stood in line. He wasn’t looking directly at her, but he was aware of the exact moment she noticed him. Her body stiffened in surprise, then relaxed.
He placed his order with the teenager manning the cash register, then walked over to where Felicia was handing a latte to another customer.
“Gideon.” She reached for a to-go cup and smiled at him. “A latte? Really?”
He shrugged. “See me as more of a drip guy?”
“Yes.”
“I like to change things up every now and then.”
“I get that.”
She worked efficiently, pouring the shots of espresso into the cup, then starting to steam the milk.
“Did you make your decision?” he asked.
She nodded. “I took the job.”
“Good. You’ll like it.”
“I hope I meet expectations. This town values tradition and connection.”
Two things she wouldn’t have a lot of experience with, he thought. But she was trying. He admired that about her. Most people ran from what was difficult. Not Felicia. She threw herself in, headfirst.
“You’ll handle the logistics easily and figure out the rest of it as you go.” He smiled. “Just like everyone else.”
Instead of smiling back, she bit her lower lip. “I do want to be considered normal.” She glanced around, as if checking to see who was close to them, then lowered her voice. “I should probably warn you, I mentioned our encounter to a few friends. I didn’t mean to—it just sort of happened.”
He leaned against the counter. “One of them was Patience.”
She nodded. “There’s an excellent chance she’ll tell Justice.”
“You worried about me? I think I can take him.”
She handed him the latte. “You’re bigger and stronger, but he’s still in the protection business, which means his training is more recent. I would prefer if the two of you didn’t fight.”
She was so damned earnest, he thought. “I’ll do my best to honor your request.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Why did you tell your friends about us?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure. We were talking, and it just came out. For what it’s worth, they were very impressed. The women in town enjoy the sound of your voice. You’ve also cultivated an air of mystery that’s appealing. It probably goes back to the time of marauders, when women were physically kidnapped by neighboring tribes. Being taken by a handsome stranger is a primal female fantasy.”
He sipped his latte. “Is it?”
She nodded. “Culturally, we tell stories to bond or learn lessons. In this case the handsome stranger is kind, thereby ensuring our safety and the future of our unborn children.” She paused. “Not that you have to worry about an unexpected pregnancy. I’m on birth control.”
He nearly choked. “Thanks for telling me that.” Because he hadn’t been thinking about protection or anything but the feel of her body and how much he wanted to be inside her.
He swore silently. He knew better. Had known since he was a teenager and his father had given him “the talk.” How had she rattled him so much he’d forgotten?
“I wonder if Patience and Justice will have children.” Her voice was wistful. “That would be nice.”
He fought the need to back away. “You looking for a white picket fence?”
“If you mean I want what it represents, then, yes. In reality, I’ve never found that kind of fencing to be efficient. The upkeep alone would be daunting.”
Okay—he didn’t know how she did it. One second he wanted to run, and the next he wanted to pull her close and kiss her senseless. She could look him in the eye and tell him the specifics of her sexual interest and yet be nervous about taking a job because of her emotional connection to the town.
“You didn’t come here for coffee,” she said.
“I didn’t?”
She shook her head. “You’re checking on me. You want to know if I’m okay, which is very sweet considering I’m the one who initiated our sexual encounter.”
“Are you?”
“I’m fine. The physical intimacy was better than I remembered, which is extraordinary. I have an excellent memory. I don’t want you to worry. I don’t feel that I’ve bonded with you as a result of my orgasms, but if it starts to happen, I’ll handle it myself.”
Which should have made her the perfect woman, he thought. But all he could think was that she’d spent so much of her life by herself. Separate from everyone else—never quite fitting in. She must have been lonely.
Emotion stirred inside him. The need to protect. He knew the danger of getting involved and vowed that he wouldn’t, but damn, she was something.
She smiled. “It seems unfair to only discuss my emotions. Are you okay with what happened between us?”
“I’m feeling a little used, but I’ll deal.” He cocked his head. “You show up at my place in the middle of the night and demand sex. What’s a guy to think?”
She laughed. “I think you can handle the pressure.”
He was about to ask when she wanted to pressure him again, but stopped himself. He wasn’t the picket fence kind of guy. Maybe he had been once, but that part of his soul had long since turned to dust.
She reached for something on the counter and picked up a small brightly colored card. “Do you want to—”
The smile faded, and uncertainty filled her big, green eyes.
The battle was clearly visible. Her shoulders drew back as she steeled herself to continue what she’d been about to say.
“My friend Charlie and her fiancé are having a party in a couple of weeks. At the new casino and hotel. It’ll be open by then. She said I could bring a date.” Felicia