Two of a Kind

While she’d studied the subject of sexual intimacy, knowing in her head and experiencing in person were two different things. Reading about the states of arousal had been nothing like experiencing them. Intellectual knowledge of why a tongue stroke on a nipple might feel good hadn’t prepared her for the wet heat of his mouth on her breast. And knowing the progression of an orgasm hadn’t come close to actually feeling the shuddering release that had claimed her.

“You’re unexpected,” he said, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

In the starlight, she couldn’t read his expression. She couldn’t see if he was remembering, too. “I need to talk to someone,” she admitted. “You came to mind.”

His eyebrows rose. “Okay. That’s a new one. I haven’t seen you in four years and you thought of me?”

“Technically you saw me in the warehouse.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes, and it was meaningful for me, too.” The almost-smile faded. “What do you want to talk about?”

“It’s work related, but if you don’t want to have a conversation, I can leave.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “Come on in. I’m too wired to sleep after I work. I usually do Tai Chi to relax, but having a conversation works, too.”

He walked past her. She rose and followed him inside.

The house was big and open, with plenty of wood and high ceilings. Gideon flipped on lights as he moved through a great room with a fireplace at one end. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the darkness. While she couldn’t make out details of the view, she had a sense of vastness beyond.

“Is the house on the edge of a canyon?” she asked.

“Side of a mountain.”

He went into the kitchen. There were plenty of cabinets, lots of granite countertops and stainless appliances. He pulled two beers out of the refrigerator and handed her one.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” he said.

“I was, but now that we’ve spoken there didn’t seem to be any need to continue.”

“Huh.”

His dark gaze was steady but unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking. His voice was appealing, but that was more about physiology than any interest in her. Gideon had one of those low, rumbly voices that sounded so good on the radio. He could make a detergent sound sexy if he put any effort into it.

He flipped off the kitchen lights. She blinked in the sudden darkness, then heard more than saw him walk across the room and open a sliding glass door. Moonlight illuminated the shadow of him disappearing onto what would be the back deck of the house. She followed.

There were a few lounge chairs and a couple of small tables. Forest stretched out beyond the railing. The trees angled down—Gideon hadn’t been kidding about the house being on the side of a mountain.

She settled in a chair close to his, with one of the tables between them. She rested her head against the cushions and stared up at the star-filled sky. The half-moon had nearly cleared the mountain, illuminating the quiet forest and still mountain.

The air was cool, but not cold. In the distance she heard the faint hoot of an owl. An occasional leaf rustled.

“I can see why you like it here,” she said, reaching for her beer. “It’s restful. You’re close enough to town to get to the station but far enough away to not have to deal with too many unexpected visitors.” She smiled. “Excluding me, of course.”

“I like it.”

“Do you get snowed in during the winter?”

“I didn’t last year. We hardly had any snow. But it’s going to happen.” He shrugged. “I’m prepared.”

He would be, she thought, because of his military training. She’d noticed that she and Justice often came at a problem from different angles but with the same objective. And speaking of her friend...

“I couldn’t talk to Justice about this,” she said.

Gideon raised his eyebrows. “All right.”

“I thought you’d want to know why. Because he and I are like family.” She turned on the lounge chair, angling herself toward him.

He was in silhouette again. A powerful man momentarily tamed. Her gaze drifted to his hands. She was tall, but with Gideon she’d felt delicate. For a few hours in his bed, she hadn’t been frighteningly brilliant or freakishly organized. She’d been a woman—just like everyone else.

“So what’s the problem?”

For a second she thought he was referring to her study of his hands, and the resulting memories. “It’s the town.”

“You don’t like it here?”

“I like it very much.” She drew in a breath. “The mayor has asked me to take over running the festivals. Pia Moreno had been doing it for several years, but she already has three kids and is pregnant with a fourth. It’s too much for her.”

Gideon shrugged. “You’d be perfect for the job.”

“On the surface. The logistics would be easy enough, but that’s not the point. It’s the significance.”

“Of the festivals?”

She nodded. “They are the heartbeat of the town. Time is measured by the festivals. When I go out with my friends, they often talk about festivals from the past, or what’s coming up. Why is Mayor Marsha willing to trust them to me?”

“Because she thinks you’ll do a good job.”

“Of course I’ll do the work. It’s more than that.”

“You’re scared.”

Felicia drew in a breath. “I wouldn’t say scared.”

He took a drink of his beer. “You can pick some big word if you want, but you mean scared. You don’t want to let them down and you’re afraid you’re going to.”

“I thought I was the most direct person in any conversation,” she murmured.

* * *

GIDEON LEANED BACK in his chair and closed his eyes. It was safer than looking at Felicia, especially in moonlight. With her big green eyes and flame-red hair, she was a classic beauty. How would she describe herself? Ethereal, maybe. He smiled.

“This isn’t funny,” she told him.

“It kind of is.” But not for the reason she thought. His situation was more ironic.

He’d built his house and designed his life so that he chose if and when he interacted with anyone. Last night Ford had been his surprise guest. Tonight it was Felicia. The difference was he’d been comfortable around his friend. Not so much with the woman sitting only a few feet away.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, it was that he was aware. Of the soft sound of her breathing. Of the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. Of how she occasionally looked at him like she was remembering them na**d together.

Wanting stirred. It had been dormant so long that the physical act of blood rushing to his groin was painful. Thinking pure thoughts didn’t help, mostly because he didn’t have any where she was concerned. Of course now he was left with a hard-on and nowhere to put it, so to speak.

He glanced at Felicia and wondered what she would say if he told her he wanted her. Any other woman would be flustered or embarrassed. A few might start taking off their clothes as a way to say yes. But what about Felicia?

He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance she would discuss the biological process of arousal and an erection in such scientific terms that the blood would retreat in self-defense, thereby solving the problem. On the other hand, she could do what she’d done when they’d met in Thailand—look him directly in the eye and ask if he wanted to have sex with her.

“You were the most beautiful woman in that bar,” he told her. “I was surprised when you came over to talk to me.”

“You seemed nice.”

“No one’s said that about me in a long time.”

She smiled. “I was still in the military at the time and working with guys in Special Forces. I was comfortable being around dangerous men. I can’t explain why I picked you, though. I found you appealing, of course. I suppose I also had a chemical reaction. Perhaps to your pheromones. Attraction isn’t an exact science.”

She ducked her head, then looked back on him. “It was my first time.”

“Picking up a guy? You did good. I was immediately intrigued.”

“I was wearing a very low-cut sundress. Most men are attracted to breasts. Plus I’d run in place for a few minutes before going into the bar. The scent of female sweat is also sexually attractive to men.”

“I feel used.”

She laughed. “No, you don’t.”

“You’re right.” They’d had a great night. “I wanted to see you again, but I couldn’t find you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I got sent back to the States. I’m sure Justice had something to do with it.” She paused. “I didn’t mean I’d never picked up a man in a bar before, Gideon. I meant you were my first time. I was a virgin.”

Gideon stared at her, his beer halfway to his mouth. He returned it to the table. Memories of that night flashed through his head. Of Felicia exploring his body as if she couldn’t get enough. Her eager cries of “more” and “harder.” She’d been so clear on what she wanted that he’d assumed... No guy could have ever guessed...

“Shit.”

“Don’t be upset,” she told him. “Please. I didn’t say anything that night because I was afraid you’d turn me down. Or that it would make things difficult. That you’d be too careful or tentative.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Twenty-four.” She sighed. “Which was part of the problem. No one would sleep with me. I was tired of not knowing. Of being different. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a virgin. I suppose in a perfect world I would have waited until I fell in love. Only, how was that supposed to happen?”

She sat up and faced him. “I grew up on a university campus. They had very polite words to describe my situation, but at the heart of it, I was a lab experiment. I joined the Army and was quickly moved into logistics for Special Forces. Guys everywhere, right? Except I was so socially awkward, I think I scared them. Or they saw me as a sister, like Justice. I kept waiting to meet someone. For that first kiss, that first time. But it wasn’t happening.”

She twisted her fingers together. “I went to the bar for three nights before I saw you. Once I did, I decided you were the one.”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all that information.

“Are you angry?” she asked.

“Confused. You had me fooled. You seemed to know what you were doing.”

She smiled. “I’m very good at research.”

“Still, I should have noticed.”

“You had an incredibly beautiful woman in your bed. You were distracted.”

She was laughing as she spoke, as if making a joke, yet the words were completely true.

“It had been a while for me,” he admitted. “You were my first after I was held captive.”

Her humor faded. “I didn’t know that.”

“You and I didn’t talk much. Once I realized what you wanted, I wasn’t about to say no. I’d spent two years in that hole in the ground, then another year and a half in Bali.”

“There are very lovely women in Bali.”

“That may be true, but my teacher insisted celibacy was the road to healing.”

“Hence the trip to Thailand?”

“I wouldn’t have said ‘hence,’ but it was part of the reason I wanted to take a break.” He managed to take a drink of his beer. “I wasn’t expecting to find you.”

“You didn’t. I found you.”

A point he would happily concede. “Things didn’t end the way I wanted.”

“For me, either.”

He and Felicia had been lounging in bed when two guys had literally broken down the door. Gideon hadn’t known Justice at the time, but he’d recognized Ford. His buddy had shrugged in apology but hadn’t stayed to talk.

“I should have reacted faster,” Gideon said.

“It’s good that you didn’t. Then you and Justice would have gotten into a fight and someone would have gotten hurt.”

He liked to think it would have been the other guy but figured he would have taken the brunt of the attack. At that point he’d been out of the game for several years. He’d been in good shape but not honed like Justice. He doubted Ford would have taken sides, although he probably would have prevented them from killing each other. A cold comfort, he thought.

“Now you and I are here,” he said.

“Not a coincidence. You and Justice both know Ford. Justice met him when he was a teenager and lived here for a while.”

Gideon had heard the story. Justice had been in the witness protection program, which had relocated him to Fool’s Gold. A perfect place to hide, Gideon thought. No one would think to look for him in such an idyllic town.

All these years later, Justice had returned, fallen in love with Patience, a girl he’d cared about in high school. Talk about a sappy story. Yet it was a situation that Gideon found himself envying. Justice had found peace—something Gideon knew would always elude him. On the surface he looked like everyone else, but he knew what was inside. He knew that he couldn’t risk caring. Love made a man weak and ultimately killed him. Gideon couldn’t afford to take the risk.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Ford talked to you about Fool’s Gold and you came to check it out.”

He had, and he’d liked what he’d seen. The touristy town was big enough to have what he needed and small enough that he could exist on the fringes of belonging. He could be a part of things and yet separate.