Three Little Words

“Yes. Hit me. Then we’ll be even.”

“I appreciate the offer, but get real. I’m a highly trained SEAL. You don’t want to go up against me.”

“I’m not. I’m standing here as the man who wronged you. Hit me. I can take my punishment. I deserve it.”

Ford wondered how long Leonard had been waiting for this moment, planning it. Then he realized he knew the answer. Fourteen years. He saw the determination in his friend’s eyes and figured there was no other way out of it.

“All right,” he said slowly. “If you’re sure.”

Leonard nodded and carefully removed his glasses. “I’m ready.”

Ford pulled out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Fool’s Gold nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“There’s an unconscious man on the ground. Send an ambulance.”

“Wh—”

Leonard started to speak, but that was all he got out before Ford hit him and he crashed to the ground.

* * *

KENT WALKED TOWARD the CDS building. It was a warehouse south of the convention center and east of downtown. He’d never been there before. Although he’d seen his brother Ford several times since Ford’s return, they’d always met at a restaurant, or their mom’s house.

As he entered the large building, he wasn’t thinking about his reason for being there. Instead he was mulling over his work schedule for the day. Although he had several weeks until school started, he’d already begun working on his lesson plans. This year he was determined to take his math-letes all the way to nationals. The kids worked hard and they deserved the opportunity. He was also going to be teaching a new advanced calculus class, which would challenge both him and his students.

“Kent, right?”

“Huh?” He realized he was in a hallway, with a large man standing in front of him. His gaze flickered between the cold gray eyes and the scar on the guy’s neck.

“Angel,” he said as the name came to him. “Kent Hendrix. Ford’s brother. We’ve met a couple of times.”

“Sure.” Angel shook hands with him. “Ford’s not here. There was some kind of trouble and he’s at the hospital.”

“He’s hurt?”

Angel grinned. “No. It’s the other guy.”

Which sounded like Ford, Kent thought, wishing he could be a little more like his brother. Not the fighting. He didn’t want to do whatever it was his brother had learned while in the military. But the ability to go for what he wanted, to not give a damn about convention or other people’s opinions. That would be nice.

“I’m here to see Consuelo. About my son.”

Angel’s grin turned knowing. “Right,” he said, drawing out the word. “That’s a new one.”

“New one what?”

“The kid. It’s a good story, though. Original. You might get points for that.”

Kent shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You seeing Consuelo.”

Kent wondered if the other man had taken a few too many blows to the head. “My son is taking a martial arts class with her. He wants to take more and that means he doesn’t have time for soccer. He’s been with the team for a couple of years now, so I want to make sure he’s making the right decision.”

The grin faded. “Oh. You’re really here about your kid.”

“Why else would I come here?”

Angel slapped him on the back. “You’ve never met Consuelo.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kent answered it anyway. “No. I registered Reese by phone after checking it out with Ford.”

Angel chuckled. “You need to brace yourself. She’s hot.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

He wanted to point out that he didn’t actually care about Consuelo except as her classes related to his son, but he doubted Angel would believe him.

Dating seemed impossible, he thought grimly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; it was that he didn’t trust himself to get it right. His previous marriage had been the very definition of a disaster. He’d been completely stupid and then he’d perpetuated the mistake by thinking he was still in love with his ex years after she’d left. He hadn’t been. In truth he’d been unable to accept the end of his marriage until he’d accepted the truth about his ex-wife. But finally figuring out the problem didn’t make him any less of an idiot.

“Just remember she could kill you where you stand and never blink.”

Kent wasn’t sure what blinking had to do with anything. “Does she do that often?”

Angel grinned. “Often enough.”

Kent was fairly sure he was being played, so he didn’t react. Angel led the way into the main workout room and yelled, “Consuelo. Kent Hendrix to see you. He’s Ford’s brother, so you shouldn’t kill him.”

A woman stepped out from a small office and shook her head. “What’s wrong with you? Stop saying crap like that or I swear I’ll turn you into a eunuch so fast you won’t have time to scream.”

She continued speaking, at least Kent assumed so. Her lips were moving. But he couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, and he was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing.

It wasn’t that she was beautiful. The word didn’t do her justice. Nor did hot or incredible. He was pretty sure there wasn’t a word significant enough to describe the petite, brunette goddess walking toward him.

She wore cargo pants and a tank top. Neither left anything to the imagination. Her body was the perfect combination of curves and muscles, but it was her face that captured his attention. She had large eyes and a full mouth. Her long hair seemed to move with every step. She epitomized both sex and femininity.

He felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut by a pack mule. There wasn’t a cell in his body that hadn’t noticed her, and for the first time since high school, he was terrified of getting an erection and embarrassing himself.

Angel started laughing. “Told you,” he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. He walked toward the exit, then paused to yell back, “Be gentle. He’s a civilian.”

Kent swore under his breath.

Consuelo scowled. “He’s annoying and later I’ll punish him.” She shook her head, then looked at Kent. “Hi. I’m not sure we’ve actually met. I’m Consuelo Ly.”

She held out her hand. Kent didn’t want to take it in his. Oh, he wanted to, but he was terrified about what would happen. He thought he could either grab her and try to kiss her or actually ejaculate in his pants. Neither scenario had a positive outcome.

“Kent Hendrix,” he said, then braced himself for the onslaught and shook hands with her.

The second their skin touched, he felt as if he’d been set on fire. The good news was the sudden shock of heat was so intense he wasn’t in danger of getting hard. The bad news was his brain went completely blank and he was relatively sure he’d lost the ability to speak.

“I’ve known Ford for years,” she said, releasing his fingers. She smiled. “I won’t hold that against you.”

He swore silently as the perfection of her smile cut him to the bone. The flash of teeth, the happy crinkle by her eyes, made her even more beautiful.

“Ah, thanks,” he managed.

“You’re Reese’s father, right? He’s a good kid. He has some talent. He and Carter are always trying to do more than they should. Typical for kids their age.” She flashed the smile again. “I would say for boys their age, but you might take offense at that.”

She was nice, he realized. Beautiful and nice. Talk about lethal.

He forced himself to concentrate. “Reese would like to take more classes here. Start training for a black belt. I worry he’s too young. He’s been playing soccer for years now and he’s talking about giving it up.”

Consuelo frowned. “Dumb-ass kid,” she grumbled, then winced. “Sorry. I meant, sometimes students get caught up in the initial excitement of what they’re doing and get overly enthused.”

The realization that she was human, just like everyone else, caused him to relax. He managed a full breath before saying, with pretend concern, “Did you just say ‘dumb-ass kid’?”

“I, uh...”

“Is that how you talk to my son and your other students?”

She raised her chin. “Sometimes. When they need to hear it. Look, Mr. Hendrix, this is a dangerous sport and there has to be complete discipline. I work with military experts and trained assassins. I also work with civilians and every now and then I forget who has delicate sensibilities and who doesn’t. If that gets your panties in a twist, then I’m probably not the best instructor for Reese.”

“My panties in a twist?”

She flushed. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, either.”

“Probably not.”

He folded his arms across his chest, aware that he was much taller than her. Not that it would help him in any kind of altercation. He was a math teacher and she was a... He realized he had no idea what she’d done before she’d moved to Fool’s Gold to work for CDS.

Regardless, he felt a little less out of control.

She looked up at him. “Reese is good. He’s athletic and coordinated. Does he have that incredible talent that comes along once in a generation? No. Sure, he could get his black belt and he probably will. But to give up everything else to focus on this?” She shrugged. “I’d make him wait a year and see if it’s still what he wants to do. Maybe add one more class a week. He’s a kid—he should have fun, not make a lifestyle choice.”

“I appreciate the advice.”

“It’s worth what you paid for.” She shifted on her feet. “Are you mad about what I said?”

“Will you hurt me if I say yes?”

It took her a second to realize he was kidding; then the smile returned. So did the sensation of being kicked in the gut. So much for being in control.

“I’m not good with parents,” she admitted. “I’ve gotten used to saying what I think.”

“Threatening people, and when that doesn’t work, beating the crap out of them?”

The smile broadened. “Exactly. Civilized conversation is highly overrated.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, I don’t have the freedom you do to say what I think.”

As soon as he made the statement, he saw the danger of it. Whatever connection he’d established with her was about to disintegrate like cotton candy in the rain.

She tilted her head and her layered, dark, shiny hair slipped over one shoulder. “You’re a math teacher, right?”

“In high school.”

She laughed softly and then put her hand on his forearm. He felt the heat of her touch clear down to his groin. “You’re far more brave than I could ever be. Teaching teenagers math.”

At least she hadn’t run screaming into another room. “Not just math. Algebra and geometry. Calculus.”

Her expression flashed with an emotion he couldn’t read. She withdrew her hand. “Tough gig,” she murmured.

He knew something had shifted, but he couldn’t say what. Why was she okay with him being a math teacher yet she retreated when he’d mentioned the specifics?

“I like it,” he admitted. “I like my kids and I know what they learn in my class can help them later in life. I have a special program for underachieving students. To bring them up to grade and convince them they can go to college.”

He told himself to stop talking—that he sounded like the neighborhood nerd showing off his homemade rocket.

“A worthy goal,” she said and took a step back.

A clear dismissal, he thought grimly, knowing he’d never had a chance and wondering where he’d gone so very wrong.

“I appreciate your time,” he said. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome. He’s a great kid. You’re obviously a good dad.”

Kent nodded and left. As he walked to his car, he was conscious of the irony of the situation. After years of thinking he was still desperately in love with his ex-wife, despite the fact that she’d left him, he’d finally been willing to admit the truth. That she had abandoned him and her son and he’d been a fool to marry her in the first place. Determined to get on with his life, he wanted to start dating. To find someone special and fall in love.

Just his luck the first woman to capture his attention wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

* * *

FORD STOOD IN the emergency room’s waiting area of the Fool’s Gold Hospital wondering why this kind of thing always happened to him. He’d only meant to do what Leonard asked. A friendly tap to the jaw. He’d figured the other man would drop to the ground, what with never having been in a fight in his life. He would guess Leonard’s idea of physical toughness was to wash the car without putting on gloves.

As expected, Leonard’s legs had collapsed immediately. Unfortunately, as he’d gone down, he’d hit his head on the side of the Jeep and been knocked out cold. Which meant the 9-1-1 call had been a good idea. Only Ford had meant it to be preventive, not necessary.

“There you are!”

He turned and saw a medium-height woman with blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair walking purposefully toward him. She was curvier than he remembered, and obviously pregnant, but otherwise pretty much the same. Except the last time he’d seen Maeve, she’d been in tears, and this time she looked as if she could spit fire.