Three Little Words

Consuelo stared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re terrified Kent is going to reject you, so you withhold yourself from him. He will sense that there are secrets he will never know and parts of you he can’t touch, which will in turn make him feel rejected.” Her voice gentled. “You’re already planning your exit.”

“I’m not!” Consuelo said loudly, then sighed. “Okay, maybe. But...” She pressed her lips together. “Damn it, Felicia.”

Felicia’s smile was just a little bit smug.

“You’re good,” Isabel said.

“With others. I’m less insightful with myself.”

“While you’re being brilliant, what about Ford? He claims he can’t fall in love. That he’s tried but it simply hasn’t happened for him.”

“What are your thoughts?” Felicia asked.

“He was pretty young when he was engaged to my sister. So getting over Maeve quickly isn’t a statement on his character. Since then, he’s been in different war zones and on secret assignments. I know he was in a task force, but I don’t know any details.”

She picked up her latte, then put it down. “He didn’t work around many women, and I don’t think his leaves were long enough for him to really get involved with someone. So he made the decision to keep things casual. He likes women and they like him. But is that all he has in him? Did he skate on the surface because it was how he kept himself safe, only now that’s all he knows and anything else is too scary to try?”

“Possibly,” Felicia said.

Isabel laughed. “I was hoping for more.”

“Why? Your analysis is sound. If Ford has never had the opportunity for a significant relationship—either through circumstance or preference or both—then he’s unlikely to be willing to try now without motivation. Are you giving him that?”

The question was unexpected. “No. I’m leaving for New York in a few months. We’re only fake-dating.”

At least, she hoped they were. Isabel thought about how she’d felt holding him. How she looked forward to seeing him and how she avoided thinking about what it would be like when she was gone.

“I refuse to fall in love with him,” she said flatly. But as she spoke, she was touching the dragonfly necklace Ford had bought for her. The one she didn’t take off, except to shower.

“Good luck with that plan,” Consuelo told her, looking sympathetic.

Patience came out from behind the counter. “Sorry,” she said as she approached the table. “My refrigerated goodies are all put away. Now, what did I miss?”

* * *

ISABEL LEANED FORWARD and adjusted the toe separator on her right foot. She’d decided that a spectacular sex life deserved painted toenails and had dug out some polish, a nail file and the toe separators. Now her left toes were a deep violet.

The bathroom door opened without warning and she shrieked. “What are you doing?”

Ford stood by the sink, his expression wounded. “You locked the back door.”

“Yes,” she told him. “On purpose. I wanted privacy.”

He glanced around the bathroom. “Why? What could you be doing that I couldn’t watch? It’s not like you’re waxing or something.”

She shoved the brush back in the bottle. “It’s not like you asked before you burst in.”

“Good point. So, what are you doing?”

She waved the bottle of nail polish. “I would think it was obvious.”

He glanced at her toes. “I could do that.”

“Paint my toes? I don’t think so.”

“Why not? I’m good with my hands.”

“This is different and the polish on my left foot is still wet. So go away.”

He flashed her a grin. “Right. Because telling me that always works.”

He moved closer. She tried to duck away, but there was nowhere to go. He reached down, picked her up. She yelped.

“Inside voice,” he told her as he carried her into the kitchen, where he put her on a chair.

He pulled up a second chair and sat down, then grabbed her unpolished foot and set it on his hard thigh.

“Bottle,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Fine.” She sighed. “Don’t use a lot of polish. I do a second coat.”

“Then topcoat?”

She stared at him. “You know about topcoat?”

“I have three sisters. I know everything.”

“You are a constant surprise,” she murmured.

“One of my best qualities.”

He painted her nails with slow precision. She watched his steady hand and realized that she was in more trouble than she’d first thought. Walking away from Ford could very well break her heart.

When he was done, he applied the topcoat, then screwed both bottles shut. She leaned back in her chair, both her feet on his thighs, thinking that this was one of the best views in town. She would remember this should her heart end up smashed.

“Why don’t you talk about the war?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “There’s a change in subject.”

“There’s an avoidance of the question.”

He pressed his thumbs into the arch of her left foot and found a sore spot she hadn’t known she had.

“There’s nothing to say.” He rotated his thumbs and pressed harder.

She held in a moan.

“I did things, saw things,” he continued. “They’re ugly and I don’t want you to think about that stuff.”

“You’re protecting me?”

He gave her a slow smile. “Something I’m really good at.”

“I don’t need protecting. We’re friends. You can talk to me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Do you talk to anyone?”

“I was debriefed, I saw a navy shrink because it was required. I’m done.”

“I don’t believe that. You can’t ignore what happened.”

“Why not? It’s the monster under the stairs. Eventually it starves to death.”

She wasn’t sure it was that simple.

He shifted his hands to her other foot and massaged her arch. “There are times when it gets bad,” he admitted, “but not many. I was lucky. I didn’t have it like Gideon or even Angel.”

He raised his head. “Do you know a woman named Taryn? She’s tall, with dark hair. Great dresser. Hot.”

Isabel stared at him for a second, then carefully pulled her feet free. “Excuse me?”

He grinned. “Not for me. Angel noticed her the other day. It was like watching a leopard separate an animal from the herd. I wondered if she was up to the chase.”

“I don’t know her well enough to be sure, but if I had to guess, I would say if anyone can handle our leopard friend, it’s her.”

“Good. I hope he does something. I doubt Angel’s been with anyone since...”

Isabel waited. “Since what?”

“Nothing. It’s his thing. I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

His grin turned knowing. “Want to spank me? I remember you’re into that.”

“They were shape-wear and you know it.”

“I do.”

He grabbed her wrists, and before she knew what had happened, he pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. She sat straddling him, her arms on his shoulders, her face close to his.

“We always seem to end up here,” she murmured, right before she kissed him.

“It’s because you’re demanding. I can barely keep up.”

She wiggled against his obvious erection. “You seem to be keeping up just fine.”

“That’s because I can’t resist you.”

As Isabel lowered her mouth to his, she wished his words were true and that this was much more than a game they played for fun.

* * *

“IT’S ME,” ISABEL CALLED as she opened her sister’s front door.

Maeve appeared in the living room, her hair mussed, her clothes stained. There were shadows under her eyes.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, sounding exhausted. “It’s been a hell of a night.”

Maeve had called a couple of hours ago and asked if Isabel could stop by the store to pick up a few things. Three of her four kids had gotten food poisoning. They’d been up all night and Maeve had been awake with them. With Leonard out of town, everything had fallen to her.

They walked into the kitchen.

“When does Leonard come back?” Isabel asked as she pulled out bottles of ginger ale and a box of crackers.

“Late tonight. I’m counting the minutes.”

Isabel glanced at her watch. It was barely after ten in the morning. “Look, Paper Moon is closed today. I can stay. Bring me up to date with the kids and I’ll take over while you get a nap.”

“I’m fine,” Maeve told her. “Really. You don’t want to be alone with my kids.”

“Only three, right?”

“Yeah. Griffin’s fine and he went to school.”

Just then four-year-old Kelly walked in. She wore pj’s and looked nearly as tired as her mom.

“Mommy, I’m hungry.”

Maeve smiled. “That’s a good sign. How about some ginger ale while I get you some crackers? If they make your tummy happy, then you can try some banana.”

Kelly nodded, then looked at Isabel. “Hi, Auntie Is.”

“Hey, munchkin.” Isabel crouched in front of her. “You had a bad night, huh?”

Kelly nodded and leaned against Isabel. “I got sick in my bed.”

Isabel picked up the girl and hugged her. “Poor you.” And Mom, she thought, knowing Maeve would have had to deal with the cleanup.

“Come on,” she told her sister. “Let’s get the other two sorted out. Then I’m taking over.”

Maeve hesitated, then nodded. “I wouldn’t say yes, but with the baby and all, I really need to get some sleep.”

They checked out the other two, both of whom were asleep. Isabel promised to wake Maeve if either stirred, then shooed her sister off to her room and returned to the kitchen with Kelly.

Once her niece had finished her ginger ale and a few crackers, Isabel checked on the laundry. Sheets were piled up, with one wet load sitting in the washer. She pulled clean sheets out of the dryer and tossed them in the basket, then put the wet stuff in the dryer and put in a new load of dirties. After starting everything, she carried the basket back to the kitchen and kept Kelly company while she folded.

Her cell rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. A quick glance at the screen had her smiling.

“Hi, Mom. Where are you?”

“Hong Kong,” her mother said. “It’s loud. I’m buying you and your sister silk blouses.”

“Which will only make us love you more,” Isabel said with a laugh. “I’m with your granddaughter. Want to say hi?”

“Absolutely.”

Isabel pushed the button for the speakerphone and Kelly told her grandmother about the three siblings getting sick. When she went off to watch cartoons, Isabel released the speakerphone.

“Maeve’s sleeping,” she told her mother. “She’s exhausted but didn’t eat whatever the kids did. I’m helping out.”

“I’m glad you’re there,” her mother told her. “I miss you both. How’s the store?”

“Excellent. Those new designer clothes have already sold. They’re bringing in a lot of money.”

Her mother sighed. “And that’s not enough to convince you to stay? You could buy us out over time and...” There was another sigh. “Your father is telling me to stop pushing.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, but you know my plans.”

“I do. And I’ll be quiet now.”

They chatted a few more minutes, then hung up.

Three hours later, Maeve staggered into the family room. She blinked as she looked around. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

“Why not?” Isabel asked. “You needed it.”

The three kids were stretched out together under a blanket, watching a DVD. They smiled sleepily at their mom but didn’t get up.

“Everyone has had ginger ale, crackers and soup. They’re all tired and are going to watch the movie. Come on. I’ll make you some lunch. You must be starving.”

Maeve followed her into the kitchen. Isabel opened the refrigerator and collected the fixings for a sandwich, but before she could start making it, her sister started to cry.

Isabel rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?” she asked, crouching next to her. “Is it the baby?”

Maeve shook her head, her blond hair swaying with the movement. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

“You cleaned the kitchen and did laundry,” she said, the words slightly muffled.

“Okay,” Isabel said slowly and patted her shoulder. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Thanks.” Maeve wiped her face. “I’m sorry. It’s just I’m so tired, and when Leonard’s gone, I fall apart. He doesn’t travel much, but he had to take a continuing-education class and the one he wanted was only available in person in San Francisco.”

Isabel got a glass and filled it with water, then returned to her sister’s side.

Maeve took it. “Last night was so awful and then you showed up and took care of everything. I really appreciate it.”