Caught by Surprise

by Deborah Smith

  “Get your own bacon. Go kiss a pig.” Millie drew back her right arm and began throwing dirt clods with a speed and strength honed in years of playing baseball with two brothers. She caught one of the men in the chest, the other on the side of the head. They cursed loudly and ran toward her with the powerful strides of natural athletes.

  Screeching like a banshee, Millie swung around and raced for the backdoor. What she lacked in size she made up for in speed. She passed her bedroom window a dozen feet ahead of the men.

  They never got passed the window.

  Millie heard the harsh sounds of two bodies colliding and hitting the ground. She whirled around and stared as Brig, in a pair of cutoffs, rolled off the stomach of one downed pursuer. He had a pistol in his hand, and he leveled it at the other man, who simply stopped and gazed at him with fascination.

  “Budge an inch and you’ll need a doctor,” Brig told him in a calm, lethal tone.

  The man on the ground held his pummeled stomach and squinted from Brig to Millie. In a cold, deep voice he demanded, “Who the hell is this bastard, Millie?”

  Brig gave the men a look that was half-frown and half-bewilderment. “Who the hell are you bastards?” he growled.

  Millie clasped both hands to her mouth to keep from laughing. “My brothers.”

  Eight

  It was amazing that three men could be so different and yet agree so much on one thing—that she should fix breakfast while they lolled around her kitchen table recovering from their introduction.

  Ordinarily Millie would have rebelled and demanded help, but this time she didn’t want to disturb the cautious interplay between Brig and her brothers. Jeopard and Kyle had long ago acknowledged that she was a normal, mature woman entitled to male companionship, but they had never seen living proof before.

  They propped their chins on their hands and questioned Brig with smooth, deceptive politeness. Kyle, a country music fan, was somewhat mollified. Jeopard, who avoided music and other gentle things as if they could hurt him, had no idea who Brig McKay was, other than being the man who had tackled him from his sister’s bedroom window.

  Brig kept a half-smile on his face and gave as good as he got. Millie’s chest swelled with pride, and she could tell that Jeopard and Kyle were grudgingly impressed.

  As she scrambled eggs, she affectionately studied her brothers. Neither was more than six feet tall, but they had an almost palpable air of confidence that made them seem much larger. Kyle’s hair was nearly the same sunshine blond as hers, but Jeopard’s was much darker.

  Both men had inherited their father’s clean, strong features, but women never described Kyle as handsome. The lack of conventional good looks had never stopped him from successfully romancing half the women in the known world, however.

  Jeopard, on the other hand, had the kind of spell-binding handsomeness that belonged on a movie screen, though people took one look at the reserved, almost angry glitter in his eyes and never suggested that to him personally. Millie chewed her lower lip and frowned anxiously at her older brother. She worried about both him and Kyle, because their undercover work for navy intelligence had taken its toll over the years. But at least Kyle could still laugh. Jeopard had lost that ability.

  She knew they’d seen death up close on more than one occasion. She suspected, though they’d never told her directly, that they’d killed men in the course of their work. They’d both been wounded; they’d both lost friends; worst of all, Jeopard had lost a lover, a civilian with whom he became involved during a mysterious mission in Europe.

  Sometimes they worked as a team, but just as often they went separate ways to the far corners of the world. Their work was highly classified, so she rarely knew where they were or when they might come back. She didn’t know why they were in Florida now, or what undercover work dictated that they wear grubby, faded jeans and old work shirts.

  She did know, however, that they were treading on thin ice as far as her personal life was concerned.

  “So, you’ll go back to Nashville soon,” Jeopard stated flatly, his mouth a grim line as he waited for Brig’s response.

  The picture of calm, Brig leaned back in his chair and sipped a cup of tea. “Yep.” He scrutinized Jeopard silently, his eyes narrowed.

  Millie watched her brother’s expression register respect. Few men responded to Jeopard’s authority with such nonchalance.

  “Been puttin’ it off,” Brig added. “Can’t wait much longer.”

  “And what about my sister?”

  Millie smacked a spatula onto the stove top. “Your sister will be thirty years old this fall. She looks after herself.”

  “We know that, Millie,” Kyle said. “But we also know that you take relationships seriously.”

  She slapped eggs and bacon onto a platter with quick, angry little motions. “I should imitate my big brothers and play the field.”

  “Melisande, don’t get riled,” Brig urged softly.

  “Melisande?” Jeopard repeated.

  Millie glanced up and saw his mouth twitch as he tried to suppress a smile. She raised her chin proudly and told both him and Kyle, “I’ve started using my full name sometimes. If you don’t want to wear your breakfast for a hat, you’ll pick another subject.”

  “Good girl,” Brig commented. Then he set his mug down, leaned forward, and looked from Kyle to Jeopard slowly. His eyes were intensely serious. “I’m gonna many your sister.”

  Millie dropped her spatula on the floor. After a stunned moment, she said firmly, “No, you’re not.”

  He acknowledged her protest with a lazy wave of one hand. His gaze still on Jeopard and Kyle, he added, “She just hasn’t said yes yet.”

  “I haven’t been asked yet!”

  He glanced at her. “But you figured on it, didn’t you?”

  Millie picked up the spatula and threatened him with it. He sighed and looked at her in mild exasperation.

  “Melly, I know it’s gonna be a while before you quit worryin’ that you’re not right for me, but after you relax, we’ll get married. I’ll do the real proposin’ when the time comes.”

  Kyle and Jeopard shared a look. Kyle began to laugh, and even Jeopard managed a smile. Millie swung the spatula toward them. “It’s not funny!”

  Jeopard frowned at her. “If you take a man to bed, you ought to at least consider marrying him.”

  “Damn, Jep, don’t you dare lecture me!”

  “Why wouldn’t you be right for him? What are you worrying about?”

  She threw the spatula in the sink with a force that sent it bouncing out again. “I’m not very domestic!”

  “Well, we can certainly see that,” Kyle noted dryly.

  “You guys and Dad made me this way! I don’t fit in with traditional female behavior. I don’t even want to sit in, and Brig thinks we’ll be fine despite that!”

  Brig stood up, his eyes troubled. He came over to the stove and got a plate full of toast. “Which is for you and me to discuss alone. Bring the rest of the food over and let’s eat.”

  “Our future can’t be reduced to the level of scrambled eggs.”

  “Our future doesn’t have to be decided in front of your brothers.”

  “Eat without me. I’ll be in my bedroom.” Millie started toward the door.

  “You walk out, I’m comin’ after you.”

  “Bring my brothers. You’ll need help.”

  She left the room. Brig looked down at Kyle and Jeopard. After a moment, Jeopard said, “You have our blessings, pal. You’re a helluva fighter, but I think you’ve met your match.”

  Brig nodded and sat down. “What the devil did you blokes teach her when she was a kid?”

  Kyle cursed softly. “Not us. The old man. Dad used to tell her that women only need men for one thing—protection. Financial, emotional, and physical protection. He didn’t want her to need anyone that way.”

  Jeopard agreed. “The old man was bitter toward women. It has to do with the fact that our mother p
lanned to divorce him after Millie was born.”

  Brig whistled under his breath. This was a story he’d never heard. “But she died,” he noted. “Didn’t it have something to do with Melisande’s birth?”

  “Not really,” Jeopard answered. “I was only seven when it happened, but I remember that Mother was always frail. She caught pneumonia a few months after Millie was born.” He paused. “She couldn’t take military life, and the old man never forgave her for being so weak. I think it just tore him up that she didn’t love him enough to keep trying.”

  Kyle added, “So he made sure there’d be nothing weak about Millie. Jep and I didn’t know any better—we were just kids ourselves. Dad treated Millie like a son, so we treated Millie like a brother.”

  “Well, I’ve gotta find a way to convince your brother that I like her just the way she is,” Brig said flatly.

  Kyle arched a brow. “You’ll have to let her protect you then. And you better learn to like it—or Jake liking it.”

  Brig chuckled ruefully. “I should let her wrestle a mugger while I just watch?”

  “Something like that,” Jeopard admitted.

  “That’s what ruined her romance with that guy in Birmingham,” Kyle reminded his brother.

  “Good. Political geek.”

  “Amen,” Brig added. “I like Melly’s spirit. He didn’t.’ He paused, thinking. “But she’s so damned little. She takes too many risks. I’ve seen her do things she oughtn’t do, and I couldn’t resist helpin’ her out. Even so, I’m damned proud of her. And she’s startin’ to believe me when I tell her so.”

  “She’ll believe you until the day she does something that scares you so much that you forget to be proud ot her,” Kyle warned. “Remember that.”

  Brig eyed him thoughtfully. “Good advice,” he admitted.

  Kyle stuck out a hand. “Good luck.” They shook.

  Brig held out his hand to Jeopard. For a moment, he and Millie’s older brother traded assessing looks, measuring each other’s strengths. Brig thought there was a good man behind those cold eyes. Jeopard proved it by grasping his outstretched hand and shaking firmly.

  “She loves you,” Jeopard told him. “It was obvious by the look on her face when she introduced us.”

  “I love her. You can count on it.”

  With that understanding established, they sat back and looked at the empty chair at the table. Brig got up silently and left the room. When he came back, he carried Millie under one arm. She dangled there rigidly, half-mad and half-amused.

  He put her down by her chair, and she glared at him. “If I weren’t hungry, I would never have let you do that,” she promised.

  “Hah.”

  She sat down while he went to the stove and got the rest of the food. Millie looked at her brothers, who gazed back with feigned innocence. “Don’t say a word,” she ordered.

  Jeopard and Kyle climbed back in their old van and left after lunch. Brig stood beside her at the edge of the yard as she waved good-bye.

  When the van was out of sight beyond her moss-draped oak trees, Millie leaned against him, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach. He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Sssh, now, sssh,” he urged. “They’re Surprises, remember? I’d bet my next record contract that they can take care of themselves and anybody else that comes along.”

  She looked up at him in amazement. “How do you do it?” Millie demanded.

  “Do what, love?”

  “Read my mind.”

  He chuckled. “It’s an old aborigine trick.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. “Thank you for caring, you old aborigine.” He hugged her, and she sighed into the warm texture of the blue polo shirt he now wore with his cutoffs. “When are you going back to Nashville?” she asked in a carefully neutral tone.

  “When you agree to come with me.”

  She stiffened and drew back to look up at him with luminous, unhappy eyes. “You can’t wait that long. I know you’ve been asked to play at a charity concert next weekend. I know that your manager wants you to come back tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “You readin’ minds too?”

  “I called your manager and grilled him about your schedule.”

  “Strewth! I’ll twist Chuck’s tongue around his neck!”

  “He simply told me the truth. Don’t be mad at him.”

  Brig grabbed her hands. “Melisande, what would you leave behind if you came with me? Nothing. Just this old place. Just a job with the sheriffs department, a job somebody else can do. I know you love your home, and I’ll hire somebody to take care of it. I’ll donate money to the city if it’ll keep you from feelin’ guilty about leavin’ your job without two weeks notice.”

  “Those aren’t the important problems.”

  “I’ve got a helluva big house outside Nashville. Country-style. Quiet. Plenty of room for even the most rambunctious woman. You can have the run of it—”

  “And play pampered mistress while you work?”

  “Come to work with me. I’ll find something for you to do.”

  She laughed tonelessly. “I guess I could learn to be a groupie or a gopher.”

  An impressive mixture of Australian and American obscenities rolled off his tongue. “What do you want to do, then?”

  Millie held his hands tightly. She wanted to go with him and never look back, but she was afraid. “I’ll visit you,” she murmured. “On my days off. During vacations. And we’ll see how well I fit into your life.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “My life is you.”

  “Your life is me and your music. You try to sound casual about it, but I’d have to be a fool not to see how much it means to you. Anyone who hurts your music, hurts you.” She struggled with the tightness in her throat. “I don’t want to be that anyone.”

  “What do you think you’d do that could hurt my music or me?”

  “I know what kind of fans you attract. They’re rowdy and unpredictable. Fights are practically a part of your show. I couldn’t stand by and watch like a good little girl.”

  “Those were the old days,” he said in an amazed tone. “Last tour me and the band went on, we didn’t get into more than one or two fights the whole time. I don’t play backwoods bars anymore.”

  “You admitted to me once that women throw themselves at you back stage. I’m afraid I’d throw them back—with their noses rearranged.”

  He tried to joke. “You’ve got my permission.”

  “The law suits wouldn’t be funny, and you know it.”

  All Brig could picture was a backstage without her waiting for him. “Melly, you’re not giving it a chance,” he said angrily. “You don’t know how you’d act.”

  She nodded. “And that’s why I’ll come for short visits, and we’ll see.”

  He stepped back from her, so frustrated that all he could do was shake his head. “Some sort of mean angel made me fall in love with you,” he told her solemnly. “And now I’m ruined for any other woman.” He shook a finger at her. “But if I’d had a choice—”

  The soft purr of a powerful car engine made them both look toward the bend in her driveway. A long black limousine pulled into sight. “If your brothers are comin’ back, they changed their cover in a big way,” Brig commented. The limo stopped beside them.

  A driver got out, nodded a greeting, and opened the backdoor. The occupant put both feet on the ground, and Millie noted with a sinking sensation that neither Jeopard nor Kyle Surprise had feminine legs. And they sure didn’t wear white hose or blue pumps with small blue rosettes on the toes.

  “Honey, I flew down from Nashville because I just can’t go on alone anymore!” a sugary voice blurted.

  Natty Brannigan followed her legs out of the limousine, dabbed white gloves at the tears on her perfect face, and flung herself into Brig’s arms.

  If he’d had a choice.

  • • •

  “And then this huge, shadowy man stepped out of t
he hallway at the studio, and he grabbed me around the throat,” Natty continued. Seated on Millie’s couch, a cup of blackberry tea perched on the gray silk skirt that matched her gray silk jacket and blouse, Natty held court. Millie sat cross-legged in a chair and aimed black thoughts in Natty’s direction. Brig sat beside Natty on the couch, his arm around her.

  “It was late at night—I don’t know how he got past the security people,” Natty continued. “But he held my throat so tight that I could barely breathe, and he said, ‘You like to sing, don’t you?’ I was about to faint, but I nodded. ‘Then stick to singing and stay out of other people’s business,’ he said. And then he let go of me. I blacked out for a second, and when I came to, I was sitting on the floor, and he was gone.”

  “And nobody else got a look at him?” Brig asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh, Brig.” She moaned. “After the incident with the car brakes and the vandalism at my house, it all adds up. Don’t you see? He’s trying to scare me off!”

  Millie’s dark thoughts gave way to curiosity. Natty looked at her suddenly and asked, “Has Brig told you about me?”

  The dark thoughts returned. Millie shook her head. “I didn’t ask for a list of ex-girlfriends.” In truth, she’d figured that what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

  “Mercy!” Natty exclaimed. “Brig honey, is that what she still thinks I am?”

  “She’s not an ex-girlfriend,” Brig told Millie patiently. He removed his arm from Natty’s shoulders, patted her hand, and looked at Millie with droll rebuke. “If you want a list, I’ll give you one. But Natty’s not on it. If you had the typical curiosity God gave a female, you’d have asked by now, and I’d have told you so. I kept expectin’ you to.”

  He and Millie shared a long look. Relief bubbled up inside her as she read the unmistakable truth in Brig’s eyes. She gave him an embarrassed squint and mumbled, “Sexist goat. I apologize for not being nosy.”

  Brig nodded. “Want to know the whole tale?” Her head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. “That Tennessee senator I punched, Natty was seeing him.”

  “Let’s be accurate,” Natty interjected wearily. “I was havin’ a torrid affair with the man.” She sighed. “Bo Halford is one handsome devil, I admit it. With the emphasis on devil.”