Vivian dragged the old grill over the gravel drive until it was a safe distance from the house, not trusting her fire building skills. She poured charcoal into the drum of the grill, but her attempts to light it were in vain. Match, after match, extinguished before the charcoal ever managed to light. Frustrated, she turned when she heard a vehicle on the gravel, watching as Farrah and a man drove up in a car.

Plastering a big grin on her face, she jogged over, waving as she went. “Hey, Farrah!” Seeing the expression of fear on Farrah’s face as her eyes cut over to the man, she hoped she was not making a mistake.

Stopping a few feet from them, she looked at him and smiled. “I’m Vivian. Vivian Preacher. Can I ask for a favor?”

The air immediately electrified as his face registered blatant irritation, but she rushed ahead. “My husband is at work and will be home in a bit. I wanted to grill some steaks but have no idea how to get the charcoal lit. My matches keep burning out before it lights.”

The man opened his mouth but before he could speak, another car drove into the driveway, parking behind them. Two other men and a woman alighted from the second vehicle. The woman, dressed like Farrah, with modern clothes and a beautiful hijab covering her hair, cast a narrow-eyed gaze toward her. The two men, of Arabic descent, one much darker in skin color than the other, smiled widely at her.

“Hello,” the taller, darker man greeted, his white teeth gleaming against his skin. Walking closer, he asked, “And who do we have here?”

“I’m Vivian…from next door.”

“I’m Malik,” the smaller man said, his eyes not leaving her face.

Suddenly feeling like one of her specimens under a microscope, she forced her smile to not waver. “I was hoping to get some help starting a fire with the charcoal in my grill. My husband will be home soon and I wanted to grill steaks for him.”

The taller man stepped up, introducing himself. “Rashad.” He glanced behind her to the grill and said, “I’ll help you.”

“Oh, thank you. That would be so nice.” Emboldened, she moved toward Farrah and thrust her hand out to the man she was standing next to. “Are you Farrah’s husband? It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yes,” he responded, ignoring her outstretched hand.

She caught Farrah’s blush as she started to turn away, but she twisted back as though just having a thought. “You know, I’ve got tons of food. We’d love to have you join us for a cookout…out here.”

She caught Farrah’s eyes flare in interest, while the other woman’s eyes went cold and hard. Both Rashad and Malik grinned in response, though Akram did not change his expression.

Pushing forward, she said, “I’ve got steaks and potatoes.” Farrah said nothing, so she added, “It’d be so nice to meet some people around here.”

“I have no time,” barked the unnamed woman as she moved toward the house.

“Well, we have to eat,” Malik said, not looking back at the others.

“Right,” Rashad agreed, his smile firmly in place.

“We will be happy to join you,” Akram finally spoke, his eyes unreadable. “My wife and Nafisa will prepare some food as well.”

At this, Nafisa whirled around, her glare now focused on Akram. “I have things to do—”

“Silence!” his voice sliced through her objections. Nafisa’s mouth snapped shut, but her chest heaved. Facing Vivian, he repeated, “We will join you and your husband. Rashad can go now to assist with the fire.”

Smiling with accomplishment, she turned to walk back to her yard, praying Logan would not be pissed.

* * *

Logan nodded toward the bartender standing behind the bar in the town saloon. The rough building, like most in the area, looked worse for the wear. Harsh winters had obviously pounded the weather-beaten wooden exteriors. Although, surprisingly, looking at the clean interior, it appeared just as worn. A large man, his tan skin, eyes, and cheekbones giving evidence to his native Alaskan heritage, smiled widely as Logan settled onto a barstool.

“Whatcha havin’?”

“Draft,” he replied.

“You’ve been here two days in a row, newcomer.” This came from behind him and as he turned, his gaze landed on the waitress he met yesterday when ordering the burgers. Even with her sleek black hair and dark, twinkling eyes, he knew she was fishing.

“Yep,” he replied, lips twitching upward.

Huffing, she slapped her dishtowel on the bar and said, “So, you gonna talk or what?”

“Woman, leave the customer alone,” the bartender managed to growl and wink at the same time.

“Iggie, if we want fresh blood in this joint, we need to be friendly with the customers,” she groused back.

“And I’m tellin’ you, Sadie, we gotta give the man a chance to have a drink before you pepper him with questions.”

At their lively banter, Logan let a grin slip out despite his effort to rein it in. “Either you two have been working together a while or you’re married.”

“Both,” Iggie and Sadie said at the same time.

The man held his hand out, grasping his in a firm handshake. “Guess you figured out I’m Iggie. Igaluk’s my name, but Sadie nicknamed me Iggie about twenty years ago when we met as teens. Kind of stuck. Welcome to the Goldmine Saloon.”

“Logan Preacher.”

“Nice to meet you, Logan,” Sadie said, her smile genuine. “You living around here or just passing through?”

Eyeing her carefully, he said, “Why do I get the feeling you already know?” Seeing her grin, he confirmed, “My wife and I just moved here. Live off Ester Creek Road. Right at the end.”

Sadie and Iggie shared a quick glance, which wasn’t lost on him. He continued to drink his beer as he added to the story. “Got a part-time job as a mechanic. Wife’s taking online classes for now.”

“Met your neighbors yet?” Sadie asked.

He acknowledged her attempt to keep her voice neutral, but heard the inflections none the less. “Nope. My wife met the woman that lives there.”

Her eyes flared with interest. “They don’t come in here, but then I heard from Betty, over at the grocery, that when they come in there, they don’t talk much.” Hearing Iggie making a grunting noise, she hurried to say, “It just seems weird to me when someone moves to a small town and yet don’t make any attempt to meet the people they come in contact with. That’s just not neighborly.”

“He’s got those college kids around,” Iggie said, “so they probably spend a lot of their time in Fairbanks.”

“Whatever,” she grumbled, then smiled again as she looked over at him. “So, Preacher, when you gonna bring your wife in?”

He startled at the sound of his SEAL name being used so easily by someone else though, he had to admit, he had chosen it as a way to connect with his former missions. Well, the ones taken with a bunch of badass SEALs and not an impetuous scientist. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll get her in here soon. She’s a real sociable girl. She’d love to meet you.”

Sadie’s eyes sparkled and she said, “Well, good, ‘cause I doubt she’ll have any luck making friends with your neighbors!”

* * *

Logan drove up the driveway, his mind alternating between how best to get into the Zaman’s house to see exactly what they were doing when his equipment was delivered and thinking of Viv. Thoughts of her won out and he found himself eager to get home. Knowing she might be bored and lonely, he rounded the curve anxious to see her again.

Seeing a gathering of people in front of his house had his heart racing as he blinked to take in what he was observing. Smoke rose from an old grill that had not only seen better days, but probably better decades. A few lawn chairs dotted the grass with a card table set up in the center.

And there was Vivian, standing at the grill, surrounded by two men. Two women with traditional hijabs wrapped around their heads were nearby, one sitting in a chair and the other standing by the table. As he pulled closer, he noticed Akram standing to the side, his face giving away nothing. Fuck me. I’m gone part of a day and Viv’s managed to get the whole gang together. Thoughts of throttling her were becoming more of a reality.

Stepping out of his truck he felt all eyes on him, but it was the beauty that was running toward him that took his attention. This time he was ready when she jumped into his arms. With one hand under her ass and the other arm around her back, he held her close as she pressed her lips to his. Stunned, he jolted, but quickly realized what she was doing. Determined to act like newlyweds, he angled his head for more maximum contact. Deep, wet, and long, but no tongue. That last part nearly undid him but, while he wanted to take advantage of the kiss, he did not want to take advantage of her.

She leaned back slightly, eyes wide and glazed. “Wow,” she breathed against his lips.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, her face filling his sight.

Blinking, she said, “I know it’s crazy, don’t be mad…it just all happened.”

“Viv, with you,” he growled softly in her ear, “I already know nothing just happens.”

Settling her feet down to the gravel drive, he peered down at her, assessing. She was nervous, but she smiled up at him, greeting brightly, “Hey, sweetie, I’ve met our neighbors and asked them to eat with us. It’s such a lovely afternoon, I thought we could grill out.”

Meeting her smile with one of his own, he inwardly rolled his eyes at her subterfuge, but quickly decided to make the most of their intelligence gathering opportunity.

“Sounds good, babe.” They walked over and she began the introductions.

Rashad and Malik greeted him with practiced smiles, but he noticed their gazes were not nearly as warm as when they were aimed at Viv. Jealously, mixed with protectiveness, shot through him, but he tamped it down. Moving to shake hands with Akram, he observed the man’s dark, penetrating gaze as he took his hand in a friendly shake, giving his name.

Looking to the women, he noticed none of the men introduced them, but Vivian stepped forward.

“This is Akram’s wife, Farrah, and one of the students at the university, Nafisa.”

He greeted Farrah, not allowing his eyes to linger on her, especially with Akram eagle-eying him, but noted her nervously glancing toward her husband. Nafisa barely acknowledged him, giving a slight nod before turning away.

Grinning as he walked over to Vivian, he glanced at the table loaded with several Middle Eastern dishes. His arm encircling her waist, his fingers gripping slightly, he said, “Looks like it’s going to be an interesting dinner, babe.”