"No." Technically, it wasn't a lie. A gaping knife wound wasn't the same as an illness. "It was work related. A few weeks of meals like the one Maeve served up tonight, and I'll back to my fighting weight."
"But—"
Not liking the turn the conversation had taken, Forbes firmly moved it back toward the original subject.
"You didn't see anything suspicious? Besides the fire in the barn."
Thankfully, Sophie followed his lead. However, the look she shot him said she knew what he was doing. He could dodge and weave all he wanted. Eventually, she would get her answers.
"It was the middle of the night. I didn't see anybody. And there's no way I would've missed a vehicle driving away."
"Since you caught the fire before it spread very far, whoever set it had to have arrived on foot. You had more important things to worry about. He—or she—could have been hiding in the shadows, slipping away while your back was turned."
"You think the person was still here when I arrived?" Sophie swallowed. "That possibility hadn't occurred to me."
Forbes wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea either. He didn't want to frighten Sophie. Nor did he want to keep her in the dark. Better she was aware of any potential danger. That way she wouldn't be caught unaware.
"My guess is no. This has amateur written all over it. That said." Forbes made certain he had Sophie's full attention. "You have to take this seriously."
"I am." Sophie rubbed her arms, a shiver coursing through her in spite of the seasonably warm temperature. "It's my horses that I'm worried about. Their building has locks, but that's no protection against fire."
"The security around here is non-existent. That wasn't a criticism," Forbes assured Sophie. "I'll take some pictures and send them to my tech experts."
"More of your people?" Sophie teased, leading the way.
The hay barn and the original horse stalls were part of one large, long building. Forbes had kept up with ranch business and knew of Sophie's growing reputation dealing with troubled horses. She kept a low social media profile. She didn't have a website advertising her services. Her business had grown over the last five years by word of mouth. Sophie Lipton had a calming touch. Not a horse whisperer. She didn't like labels. Her methods were her own. Whatever she did, it worked.
Success meant they needed to expand. Now, the stable could house as many as sixteen horses at any given time. As of this afternoon, after another satisfied owner picked up her newly gentle-as-a-lamb gelding, all but one stall was occupied.
"Newt was the one who encouraged me." Sophie tapped out the code on the keypad. When the lock disengaged, she pulled open the door. "He recommended me to my first client, practically sealing the deal before I could back out." Sophie smiled. "I loved that man, Forbes. I miss him."
"Me too."
In theory, Forbes knew how Sophie felt. She hadn't saved Newt and the ranch because she expected a reward. She did it because she cared. Deeply. But hearing her say the words—the emotion in her voice—brought it home to him how all of this was to her.
"Thank you for being here, Sophie. Dad loved you like a daughter. All the years you had together. Every time I saw him, he spoke of how much you meant to him."
"Are you trying to make me cry?" Sophie sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "Enough mush. Get your pictures. As long as I'm here, I might as well do a quick check on the horses."
Setting up security cameras in all the buildings and around the perimeter was the easy part. The barn's distance from the house was the biggest problem.
"How do you feel about security guards?" Forbes took the last picture, returning his phone to his back pocket.
Frowning, Sophie gave the last horse a pat before closing the door to the stall. "Are you talking theory or reality?"
"In this case, they're one and the same. With all the wild animals that run around at night, movement-sensitive sensors would be going off every five minutes. The best deterrent would be actual bodies paroling the area. The bigger, and better armed, the better."
"I like the idea of big. Armed? Not so much." Sophie left the barn. When Forbes joined her, she locked the door. "I know it's necessary. But…"
They fell in step with each other, walking back to the house. The sun low in the western sky, the light provided a perfect backdrop for a leisurely stroll, Forbes measured his stride to match Sophie's.
"They will only use their weapons if they have no alternative." When Sophie nodded, Forbes continued. "One more thing. No more late-night walks. It's never been safe—even without this current threat."
"I disagree." Sophie let out a sigh. "However, for now, I'll do as you ask."
"That was easier than I expected. First, you agree on the armed guards, now this? What's the catch?"
"Don't be so suspicious." Smiling, she shot him a sideways look. "We'll find plenty to argue over. I'm saving my ammunition for when I want something from you."
When Sophie smiled at him like that, Forbes was tempted to tell her she could have anything she wanted. It wouldn't happen, but he was tempted.
"I want to apologize for last night."
Forbes didn't ask what Sophie was talking about. Their encounter in the hall. The kiss. As far as he was concerned, he didn't need an apology. However, an explanation would be nice.
"I wish I had a reasonable explanation." Sophie looked up, down. To her right. Anywhere but at Forbes. "I was tired. Worried about the fire. You showed up out of the blue. I was angry."
"At me? Or the person who set the fire?"
"Both." Stuffing her hands into the front pockets of her faded blue jeans, Sophie sighed. "When you stepped on the board outside my room, I should have ignored it and you. Instead, I acted rashly."
"I was surprised," Forbes admitted.
"Really? Is that all? I was horrified."
"Good God, why?"
"Wasn't it obvious? When push came to shove, I became my mother."
"The hell you say." Forbes stopped dead in his tracks. Grabbing a startled Sophie, he gave her a shake. "If you ever again suggest that you are anything like Joy, I will turn you over my knee. Understood?"
"You must have seen it." Sophie tried to pull away, but Forbes held tight. Jutting out her chin, she met his gaze head on. "Kissing you. The tone of my voice. The way I shimmied my hips. I didn't recognize myself. But I sure as hell recognized Joy."
"Do you want me to tan your backside?" Sophie raised her chin an inch higher, her eyes turned a dark chocolate brown. For a moment, Forbes thought she would argue. But in the end, she simply shook her head. "Here is why I know you're nothing like your mother. First. You have a conscience. The fact that you're worrying over this proves it. Second. Newt survived Typhoon Joy because you cared enough to repair the damage she caused. Third—and as far as I'm concerned, it's the most telling fact—The thought of even touching Joy makes me sick to my stomach. But you? I want to do a hell of a lot more than touch you, Sophie."
Sophie's eyes widened. "You do?"
Moving closer, Forbes softened his grip, his touch turning into a caress. "I wouldn't lie about something this important."
"Are you planning on kissing me now?"
"No."
"Hm." Sophie resumed their walk. "You say you want this hypothetical kiss."
"There is nothing hypothetical about it. I want it. You want it. Right?"
"I suppose," she said.
Obviously, Sophie was unwilling to concede the point quite yet. But with a spring in her step, it was clear she no longer worried about her actions bearing any resemblance to her mother's. Forbes felt a stir of satisfaction. Mission accomplished.
Forbes chuckled. "The kiss will happen. Soon. Many, many kisses—if you decide you like the first."
"What if you decide you don't? Like it, that is."
"I've kissed you twice. The first time was an impromptu moment. A goodbye. The second was…"
"A mistake?" Sophie asked, her gaze fil
led with interest.
"Never that. Like the first, it was unexpected. But I remember thinking I wanted more."
"I like the sound of that." Sophie burst out laughing. "I feel better. But you have to admit this is an odd conversation."
Thinking about it, Forbes smiled. "I can't think of a better subject. Except for ice cream. A big bowl of whatever Maeve has in the freezer."
"Mocha Almond Fudge and Raspberry Cheesecake Swirl."
"Can't argue with those choices." Reaching the house, Forbes held the mudroom door for Sophie. "Care to join me in a bowl of the flavor of your choice?"
"I have to choose?"
How had he forgotten? Sophie could eat a boatload of lumberjacks under the table without gaining an ounce. As she took two bowls from the cupboard, Forbes admired her from behind. She hadn't put on weight, but she now had some interesting curves where they hadn't been before.
"Well?" Sophie asked, opening the freezer door. "What will it be?"
I'll take you, Forbes thought. A never-ending helping. He didn't know where it had come from. Or how he felt about it. To go from talking about kissing to discussing flavors of ice cream to wanting Sophie… he swallowed. Forever? It seemed like a crazy idea. He swallowed. Wasn't it?
"What are you having?"
"A scoop of each. To start."
Some ice cream and a little Sophie. To start. Forbes breathed easier. "Sounds good to me."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FORBES STARED AT the ceiling, forcing himself not to look at the clock. Why bother? How much time could have passed? A minute? Maybe two? Not a hell of a lot when it was pitch black outside, and dawn was hours away.
With a sigh, Forbes turned onto his good side—away from the clock.
How often—when he had nothing but the hard ground to sleep on and an even harder rock for a pillow—had he dreamed of this bed? More times than he could remember. His business had taken him to some shit holes—literally. In the middle of blood, guts, and crap, his mind easily turned to home and all its comforts. Now that he was here with his body relaxed on the soft mattress and clean, fresh as spring rain, sheets. His brain wouldn't follow suit.
After a week at home, Forbes had discovered that the idea of slowing down was easier than the reality. He knew it would take some time before he stopped listening for things that went boom in the night.
Not that he was complaining. Forbes was back in his childhood home. Surrounded by old friends. Each day, he went to a job that was important to the community. Where he could make a difference. Not earth shaking by most standards, but he was right where he wanted to be.
The only thing that would make it better was if his father was around. However, Forbes felt Newt's presence in every corner of the house. Oddly, it was comforting.
Then there was Sophie. They had fallen into a familiar rhythm like the one they had as teenagers. With the added bonus of sexual tension. They knew the kiss was coming—and more. Still, neither was in a hurry to take the next step. It felt like an unofficial courting period. They had a lot of catching up to do. A lot of tales to tell. A lot of questions to ask and answer.
In the mornings, they would eat breakfast before he helped with the chores. That was when Forbes continued his story. With Sophie's help.
"Why did you leave?" Sophie asked. Early, it was the morning after they checked out the fire. "And why did it take you so long to come back?"
Jumping right in before he had a full cup of coffee in his system hadn't been Forbes' plan. However, Sophie seemed determined. She wanted to begin at the beginning? So be it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, he told her the worst in one long run-on sentence.
"I left because Joy hit on me and convinced Dad that I was the villain. After that, he pretty much shut me out."
Holding his breath, Forbes had waited for Sophie's reaction. Once again, she surprised him.
"I figured it was something like that," she stated calmly. When she met his gaze, her eyes were heavy with sadness.
The idea of telling Sophie had filled Forbes with dread. He wished he could have spared her another crappy piece of news concerning her mother. "Why aren't you surprised?"
"The first day we arrived, I saw the way Joy looked at you. Like a prime piece of meat dangled in front of a predatory cat."
"Nice imagery."
"I'd seen it before. Many times." Sophie continued using her pitchfork, adding hay to each stall. "I didn't know you or Newt. All I was worried about was myself. I hoped Joy would wait to take a bite out of you until I was able to enjoy the best playground ever. In other words, I was a selfish bitch."
"Sophie." Forbes stopped. Leaning against his pitchfork, he shook his head. "No."
"I could have ended it all right there. Instead, all I could think about was myself."
"I could have forced my father to listen to me. Instead, I ran away. In the middle of the night. Knowing what Joy was, I left him to fend for himself. What does that make me?"
"The answers seem so easy now. I know what I should have done. Back then, it seemed impossible."
"Because it was." Forbes resumed his work. "We were kids, Sophie. Joy's talons were in deep before you arrived at the ranch. Dad made his choices. I don't know if anything we did would have changed how things turned out."
If only... I wish… What if…? Forbes had asked himself these questions a thousand times. Eventually, he stopped. What was the point? He found a kind of peace. Reconciled with his father. Though it was never the same between them.
The trust and closeness had been altered irrevocably. When he and Newt were together, their conversations never delved deeper than friendly, gossipy news about the ranch. Forbes kept the details about his job light and breezy. He would always be grateful for the time they had together. But it was sad when he remembered how it used to be.
"You could have returned after Joy left."
"I wasn't ready. I blamed my father for taking her side. For choosing that woman over me. By the time I let go of my anger, I was living a different life."
"Filled with excitement and adventure."
Forbes smiled. "Something like that. I had commitments. A thriving business that I couldn't walk away from. More than that, I didn't want to walk away."
As the week continued, Sophie asked her questions. And Forbes answered them to the best of his ability. Starting with his decision to leave the Army.
Six years in, Forbes had been tired of the bureaucracy. The paperwork and trying to figure out who was in charge on any given day. It seemed they were always taking one step forward followed by two steps back.
Forbes would always be grateful for the first-class education in everything from electronics to surveillance to crime scene investigation. However, he had known it was time for a change.
When an ex-Army buddy offered him the chance to get in on the ground floor of a fledgling security business, he weighed his options, checked it out, and then jumped. He invested the money he had inherited on his twenty-first birthday, making him a full partner. It was slow going at first. But things took off fast when they received their first government contract. Then another. And another.
The business grew by leaps and bounds, expanding so fast they barely had time to take a breath. They earned a reputation for getting the job done. Quickly. Efficiently. And most of all, quietly. In and out. Little fuss. No publicity. They handled the messes nobody else wanted. And were paid extremely well for their trouble. Forbes made back his investment ten times over.
The lack of publicity wasn't just about discretion. Many of the team's assignments were top secret. Strictly need to know. If something went wrong, they were on their own. Contacting the US government for assistance would be futile; as far as the government was concerned, they didn't exist.
Gingerly, Forbes touched his wounded side, his thoughts on his last mission. It had started out fairly routine. Extricate the kidnapped son of a wealthy, high-powered businessman. He had his own o
pinion on the idiocy of the guy's decision to leave the relative safety of Dubai for a trek into the desert where he was captured and held for ransom.
As always, Forbes kept his thoughts to himself. His job wasn't to judge. He and his team flew in. Did what they were paid to do—returned the stupid party boy to his overly indulgent daddy—and collected their huge fee.
That was the plan. A plan that usually worked with little drama. Forbes had received his share of bumps, bruises, and scrapes over the years. One time, he broke his left arm when it connected with the club wielded by a particularly stubborn bad guy. The last mission—Forbes' last mission period—hadn't ended well.
Oh, they completed their mission. Idiot boy returned to the bosom of this family, money in the bank. One catch. The gaping knife wound delivered to his right side.
It wouldn't have happened if the victim—the twenty-year-old they were there to rescue—hadn't turned out to be a mass of quivering jelly. Fifty yards from the waiting helicopter, the fool decided to have a hissy fit. Forbes was forced to knock out the screaming ninny, hoisting him onto his shoulder. That was when it happened. A kidnapper they hadn't accounted for sprang out of nowhere, the knife he wielded hitting its target. Forbes managed to get the kid to the helicopter before collapsing from the rapid blood loss. It hadn't killed him. But it had been a close call.
Two weeks later, Forbes woke up in a German hospital. He learned his father had passed away and he decided it was time to leave active duty. He still believed in what they were doing. But he'd had his fill of risking his life to fix somebody else's mistakes.
Forbes was still a full partner. However, from now on, his duties were strictly on the consulting side.
The basics, he had shared with Sophie. Most of it, he couldn't have told her if he wanted to. Telling her about his wound had been a last-minute decision. Downplaying the severity hadn't worked for even a second.
"You could have died." Sophie set down the curry comb, stepping away from the horse who had been enjoying her ministrations.
With One More Look At You Page 21
