Just One Kiss (Fool's Gold #10)

“She needs to, uh, speak to you about something. It’s important.”


Patience nodded. In the past few days she’d neglected her friends. She simply didn’t have the strength. But maybe talking about someone else’s problems would help, she thought. Distract her for a few minutes.

Isabel had grown up in a low, one-story ranch house. The kind that sprawled in all directions. Back in school, it had been one of the newer houses in town, with a modern kitchen and big rooms off long hallways. There was a garage to one side and a small apartment above it.

Felicia herded Patience up the walkway. The door opened before they reached it and Isabel stepped onto the long porch.

“How are you doing?” she asked, her voice and expression sympathetic.

“Not great, but I’ll survive.”

Isabel moved close and hugged her, then put her arm around her and led her inside.

It took Patience a second to adjust to the dimness of the living room. When she did, she stared blankly at the dozen or so women sitting on sofas and standing around, talking.

Noelle was there, along with Pia and Charlie, Annabelle, with her baby in her arms, and an even more pregnant Heidi. Evie Stryker was talking to Liz Hendrix. Montana, Dakota and Nevada were clustered together, but looked up when she walked in.

Patience stared at them all. “I don’t understand.”

Jo walked in from the kitchen. She had a pitcher of what looked like margaritas in one hand and a full blender in the other.

“Virgin drinks in here for those of you breeding,” she said, waving the pitcher. “The good stuff’s in the blender. Don’t get it mixed up.”

Jo looked at Patience. “Hey. It sucks, huh? Justice leaving. Don’t worry. We’ll get you good and drunk. We’ll call him names and tomorrow you’ll have a hangover. It’s the beginning of the healing process.”

Then Patience understood. This was what the women in town did for each other. They showed up when times were hard and men were stupid. They ate ice cream and chips and drank margaritas. They told stories of their own breakups and helped each other through the pain. She’d been at countless evenings like this. Honestly, she’d never expected to have to have one of her own. Knowing her friends were looking out for her made her feel both better and worse. While she appreciated the love, she didn’t like the cause. Because when this was all over, Justice would still be gone.

Charlie crossed to her and hugged her. “I can beat him up for you,” she said. “He has skills, but he’s still injured and I have righteousness on my side.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Patience told her friend. “That’s how bad it is. I don’t want you to hurt him.”

Isabel joined the hug and then everyone else was close, holding her and offering help. Somewhere along the way, she started to cry.

* * *

THE FRENCH ALPS in late spring were pretty much the way everyone imagined them, Justice thought as he waited on the narrow streets of the village. There was still snow on the mountain peaks, lambs and calves in the fields and flowers everywhere else.

He stood outside the cheese shop, listening to the conversations around him. The older French couple discussed what to serve for dinner. The two German women were more interested in the hike they would take that afternoon. The air smelled of freshly baked bread and melted chocolate. There were no cars, no jet engines, just the everyday sounds of a simpler life.

Justice had been here before. In the village, with the family. They always requested him when they came to stay in the old family home. There were two children, a boy and a girl, and Justice had known them for several years. He liked the children, enjoyed the duty.

He worked a twelve-hour shift, six days on. He had a room in the large old house. The staff treated him well. Although there was always the threat of danger, he wasn’t in a war zone and he’d found the assignments easy.

Until today. Until the sound of Johann laughing reminded him too much of another child, a girl, also finding joy in life. Until the way Greta smiled at her husband made him think of Patience.

A black Mercedes pulled up at the end of the street. Two men in dark suits got out. Justice immediately started toward them, cataloging as he walked, prepared to pull the gun out of his chest holster if necessary. Then he recognized the man who ran the bank and his brother and waved at them. He returned to his post by the cheese shop and waited while the family shopped.