Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

FORD WALKED DOWN the stairs by the garage and headed to his Jeep. He glanced toward the kitchen and wondered if Isabel was up yet. It was early by civilian standards and he knew the store didn’t open until ten or eleven, so she had no reason to be. Oddly, he found himself wanting to go inside anyway, to make coffee and wait for her. An urge he couldn’t explain or justify. He guessed she would be as freaked by his unexpected arrival as he’d been by his mother’s.

There were elements about coming home that were more difficult than he’d expected. Not his mother—she was as much a pain as usual. He knew her actions were born in love, but honest to God, the woman needed a hobby. He’d seen his brothers and they were fine. Low-key. Welcoming but not so much with the hugging and worrying. His sisters were another matter and he didn’t look forward to hanging out with them.

But Isabel was different. Being around her was fun. He could relax and enjoy listening to her talk or tease her. Probably because of the letters. She’d written him for years. He’d watched her grow up, had been privy to her secrets and had slept better knowing that while he was in hell, there were still good people going about their lives.

He doubted she knew what her letters had meant to him. How her words had kept him grounded. He’d never answered, and over time, the letters had changed. They’d become more of a diary and less of a correspondence. He’d liked that part, too.

He’d laughed over the funny things and felt for her when she’d gone through life’s lessons. He’d been changing, too, and in a way, it was as if they’d gone through both together.

Seeing her was different than reading about her. Better. Three-D, grown-up Isabel was a lot more intriguing than the teen had been. She was pretty enough to tempt him but, as he’d been reminding himself, not someone he should pursue. He wasn’t a good bet romantically, and she deserved a good guy in her life. He was more the good-time type. He felt bad about her ex. That had to set a girl back. If there were—

He stopped halfway down the stairs.

Someone was standing by his Jeep. He’d seen movement and then it had stilled, as if whoever was there was trying to stay in the shadows. Ford went on alert. He reached for his sidearm, only to remember this was Fool’s Gold and he didn’t have a gun.

Not a problem. He would take out his stalker the old-fashioned way.

He continued down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. He circled the vehicle and came up behind the guy. Ford had to consciously lower his arms to his sides as he recognized the man loitering.

“Leonard?”

Leonard, all five feet eight inches of him, jumped. “Ford! You startled me.”

Leonard had dark hair and glasses. He wore slacks and a white shirt, along with a tie. Ford saw the white SUV parked on the street and guessed there was a suit jacket lying neatly in the backseat. Or worse, hung on a hanger.

Leonard held out his hand. “It’s good to see you. Welcome home.”

“Thanks.” They shook. “What are you doing here?”

Leonard pushed up his glasses. “I thought we should talk. We need to settle our differences.”

Ford held in a laugh. “It was all a long time ago, bro. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“I disagree. I was wrong to do what I did.” Leonard’s expression turned guilty. “You and Maeve were engaged. I had no right to get in the middle of that. You were my best friend.” He paused to clear his throat. “I’ve never forgiven myself for hurting you.”

Ford remembered being stunned when he’d found Maeve with Leonard. He was sure he’d been upset, but it was a long time ago. It was like recalling a movie he’d seen rather than reliving an emotional event.

“The better man won.”

“No,” Leonard said earnestly. “I’m not the better man. I can’t be until I apologize and you accept.” He squared his shoulders. “We should have told you. We should have explained we were falling in love.”

“Yeah, you should have. So you have and we’re good, right?”

Leonard shook his head. “No. That’s not enough. Maeve and I were young and foolish. You have to see that.”

“I do.” He could also see the beginnings of a headache.

“Sure, we’re married now, with four kids and another on the way, but so what? Our happy marriage doesn’t make what we did right. You deserve your pound of flesh.”

Ford sighed. “Do I have to?”

Leonard stepped closer. “Hit me.”

Ford held in a groan. “Seriously?”

“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.