by Desiree Holt
Safe. Trustworthy. What dull ways to describe someone. But right now, it was what she needed.
“At least we’re having coffee,” she pointed out.
Avery started back into the building then turned. “I forgot to ask. Are you going to the Fourth of July boat parade and barbecue? I understand why you didn’t want to last year, but now it would be nice for you. Meet more people, promote the gallery a little.”
Marissa shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“Well, let it roll around in your brain a while. I think you’d have a good time. At least meet me for lunch at the Driftwood on Friday. I’d be happy to pick you up.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
She climbed in her car, cranking the engine so she could turn on the air conditioning. She hated to throw snow on Avery’s obvious determination to help her lead as normal a life as she could, but she wondered if normal would ever be possible again.
Getting ready took little time. In her previous life, she’d learned to be a quick-change artist, so despite the few minutes she spent with Avery she was showered, dressed, and heading to Fresh from the Oven at five minutes until nine. One nice thing about Arrowhead Bay, nothing was very far from anything.
The gallery was only two blocks down from the café, so she parked in front and walked down. There was a decent parking lot in the back, but Marissa had learned to avoid places she couldn’t exit from quickly, as well as places where she was hidden from the public. After two years, she was almost sure every trace of her last identity had been wiped from the earth. Almost sure that even the most sophisticated computers couldn’t find her now. That the CIA had done a very good job of burying her.
And she prayed that was only a figurative expression.
She had woven herself into life in Arrowhead Bay, but her socializing was limited. She often had lunch with Avery and her sister, Sheri, the Arrowhead Bay chief of police. Sometimes one of the female Vigilance agents joined them. Sheri was the only person in town who knew who she was besides Avery. After all, who could be safer than a cop, right? She was grateful for both of them, and the way they had eased her into life in this little town.
On occasion, Avery invited her to join a group of people hanging out at the Purple Papaya or having dinner at the Driftwood. It was fun, and she appreciated being included. Avery had pointed out if she became a recluse not only would the gallery suffer but she’d cause more gossip, which was not what she wanted. Still, old habits died hard, and she was always so careful to watch everything she said and how she said it.
In many ways it was like being back in London, when she had to watch every word and walk a tightrope to do her job. But in London there was an escape plan when her job was completed or if her cover was blown. Once she’d been extracted, every trace of her London identity had been wiped away. Now she was living as yet another person in this unlikely place, hiding from the very man she’d brought down. Arrowhead Bay was her safe hidey-hole, as long as she kept her guard up.
She hadn’t been attracted to a man in longer than she wanted to remember. Yet here she was, having coffee with one. And a man who made her hungry for intimacy, for the connection she hadn’t craved until Justin came into her life.
Did he feel the same way?
She needed to quit dithering and go meet him. Nothing was going to happen at Fresh from the Oven. Anyway, it was not an invitation to get naked, just to have coffee.
True, but coffee sometimes led to a meal and a meal to—
Jesus. It was just coffee.
She swallowed a sigh and pushed open the door to the coffee shop, her senses immediately assaulted by the aroma of fresh baked cinnamon rolls and orange scones. Maybe she could bury her hormones under a ton of calories.
She scanned the room the way she always did, searching for anything that might set off her antenna. But nothing and no one seemed out of place. She spotted Justin waiting for her at a table against the wall, out of direct line of the window and still in a position to take in the entire place. She was sure his line of work had him choosing seats like that all the time, just as she had learned to do in London.
A tiny flicker of nerves raced over the surface of her skin when she saw him chatting with a man she did not recognize. She hesitated before approaching the table, wondering if she should just turn around and leave. But Justin saw her, smiled, and motioned her forward, and the knot of tension that was her constant companion eased a bit.
“Say hello to one of our local celebrities. Marissa Hayes, meet Blake Edwards.”
Edwards turned and gave her a warm smile. “I don’t know about the celebrity bit, but I am local. At least part of the time.”
She relaxed a fraction. “Nice to meet you. As a matter of fact, I’m reading your latest book and really enjoying it.”
“Thanks.” He chuckled. “I’ll take all the compliments I can get.”
“I don’t think you’re lacking,” she joked. “I know you’ve had several number one best sellers in a row.” She frowned. “Wait. Didn’t I hear or read something about a threat to your life? A stalker or something?”
“Yeah, but thanks to Vigilance it’s over and done with.”
Justin chuckled. “Thanks to Vigilance, he’s now a married man.”
Marissa looked from one to the other, puzzled. She paid little attention to local gossip unless it pertained to her.
“He married his bodyguard,” Justin explained. “Can’t get more successful than that.”
Marissa stared at him. “You did?”
“Yes, but there’s a little more to it than that. We grew up together in Arrowhead Bay, so we knew each other before.”
“That’s the sanitized version,” Justin joked.
“And we won’t be discussing any of the details,” Blake warned.
“So, you guys in town for a while?”
“About a week,” Blake told him. “We decided to buy the cottage Sam was renting and keep it as our get-away-from-it-all place.”
“Good deal.”
“Yeah. I’m getting ready to tour for this latest book,” Blake explained, “and we wanted to get this done while I had a break. Then while I’m on the road, Sam’s taking a short assignment for Vigilance.”
“She doesn’t go with you?” Marissa asked.
Blake shook his head. “I have an assistant who works for me. Sam hits a couple of stops now and then, when her schedule allows it. So, you in town visiting?”
“No, I moved here about two years ago.” The story rolled out smoothly. “I got tired of the rat race in the big city and wanted someplace where the pace of living was slower. And running a gallery is something I always wanted to do.”
“Marissa owns Endless Art,” Justin added. “The gallery just two blocks down Main Street from here.”
“Maybe Sam and I will stop by. We’re looking for some things for the townhouse in Tampa.”
She curved her lips in her professional smile. “I’ll be happy to have you visit. We have some excellent pieces on display.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll see you later.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Oh, in case either of you might be interested, I’m doing an informal thing at Read the Book on Saturday afternoon. Part of the whole holiday weekend thing. Come by if you get a chance.”
“I’ll do it.” Justin nodded. “Thanks.”
“He’s very nice,” Marissa commented after Blake moved away.
“Yeah. Local boy makes good. Really good. Anyway, let’s get you some coffee and pastry. What’s your pleasure?”
The scent of the rich coffee mingled with the aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls. When Justin placed her mug and plate in front of her, his hand just brushed against her arm. She swore sparks were visible, jumping between them, and wondered if he thought the same thing. When she looked up into his face, she saw the hunge
r in his eyes, the blazing desire.
And she knew hers had to match his for strength.
Before she realized it, the little alarm on her watch went off, and she wanted to turn back the time.
“Time to get to work?” he asked.
“Yes.” She sighed. “This was very nice. Thank you for asking me.” She grinned. “Again.”
“My pleasure. And I hope we’ll do it a lot more.” He rose from his chair and gathered up their trash. “Come on. I’ll walk you down to the gallery.”
He cupped her elbow, steering her toward the entrance, and the heat of his hand seared her skin. She knew tonight when she closed her eyes she’d be dreaming about him again, maybe this time with his clothes off. And from the looks he’d given her across the table, she had an idea he would, too.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” she protested, even as she wanted to prolong the intimacy.
He held up a hand. “No problem. I’d like to look around, anyway. See what you’ve got that’s new.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were interested in art. You’ve never been by before.”
He winked. “I take a look through those big windows, whenever I walk by.”
“Well, come on in, if you’ve got some time, and take a real look around.”
The oversized display windows had made her nervous at first, exposing her to anyone and everyone. But you couldn’t drape or shutter windows in a gallery. The original windows, however, had been replaced with bulletproof glass, and the alarm was connected to Vigilance. A few other minor adjustments had been made to keep her as safe as possible.
Even with all that, she kept to either her office or the rear of the main gallery. And she always had her small 9 mm easily accessible. Arrowhead Bay might be a typical Southern tourist town, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Ever.
She unlocked the door, and as soon as she was inside, hit the code on the security system to shut off the alarm. She was faithful about always resetting it, even if she was just going down the street for a few minutes. Then she flicked on the lights and dropped her purse in the tiny office.
“Well, this is it.” She stood in the middle of the place, arms outstretched. “Welcome to Endless Art.”
Justin walked around, looking at the art hanging on the walls and those placed on easels at strategic locations. She noticed he stopped at several and spent a few minutes studying them.
“I see you have a lot of local artists here.” He turned back to her. “Is there a good market for them?”
She wiggled her hand back and forth. “Depends. I say for most of them. Are you looking for something for your place?”
She didn’t even know where he lived. Did he have a house? A cottage? There were no apartment complexes in Arrowhead Bay. The closest thing was a small community of duplexes at the edge of downtown. Where, she wondered, do all those agents live, anyway? She’d never thought to ask.
He laughed. “Not hardly. I have one of the suites on the top floor at Vigilance. It’s where Avery houses what she calls her homeless agents.”
Marissa studied him. “You don’t want a place of your own?”
He shrugged. “Not at the moment. I’m usually on one assignment or another, and it works not having to worry about maintenance and upkeep.”
“Doesn’t that make it a little difficult if you want to, uh, spend time with a woman?”
Oh, for crap’s sake. She should shut the hell up.
The look he gave her scorched her body to the soles of her feet. She had a feeling his own body was heating up, and she couldn’t help lowering her gaze to his crotch. Her eyes widened in reflex at the significant bulge.
“Yes.” He spoke in a soft tone of voice. “Sometimes I do. Like the one in front of me right now.”
“Oh.” She wet her lips. “Well.”
“You have to know I would love to get together with you for more than coffee.”
“I do.” She tilted her head in a tiny nod.
“But I’ll never push. It’s all up to you,” he told her in a soft voice. “I hope you’re reading my signals, Marissa. I think we could have something going here, but it’s your call.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, but she forced herself to look directly into his eyes.
“Justin, I-I mean…”
“Just so you know, Avery has not said a word to me about you, nor have I asked. I won’t invade someone’s privacy. But I’ve been in this business long enough to know when someone’s in a thorny situation. Whatever it is, tell me or not, I will always keep your confidence and always protect you. That doesn’t change the fact that I want you. Want to see where whatever we start can be going.”
“I-I know.” And she did. God, what should she do? She felt like a dithering idiot.
“In my line of work, we learn to respect people’s boundaries. Whatever you’re dealing with is none of my business unless you choose to make it so.” He shrugged. “We’ve danced around this, Marissa. Pretended it isn’t there. Ignored it. But take it from me, it’s not going away. All you have to do is give me the signal, because it’s all up to you.” He grinned. “And if not, you’ll still be my star kickboxing student.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get any words out, the front doorbell tinkled.
“Customers?” he asked.
“I hope.” She wet her lips. “Thank you for the coffee and pastry. It was a nice break.”
“My pleasure.” His smile could have curled her toes. “Don’t forget Friday’s session.”
“I won’t. And thanks again.”
“And remember. It’s all up to you.”
Then he was gone.
She turned and smiled at the couple looking at the art hanging on the east wall. She’d have to be very careful with Justin Kelly. More than her safety could be at risk here. She wondered, with a touch of regret, if the day would ever come when she could relax, be completely free of her past, and enjoy a normal life.
Chapter 3
Marissa had forgotten how much fun special events could be, especially those in a small town like Arrowhead Bay. Last year she had managed to avoid participating in the Fourth of July festivities, other than having a special show at the gallery. It boggled her mind that what used to be a three-day celebration in this town now encompassed most of a week. Avery had insisted she join them at some of the events this year and even offered to pick her up.
“I can get there on my own, and I will,” Marissa had promised with a laugh. “At least to the biggest deals.”
She wasn’t quite sure how much she’d participate this year. She’d wait and see how she felt. But it was only Monday, and the town was already jammed with people. Out of curiosity, she took a slight detour past the marina, checking things out. The place was so full there were boats anchored just past the piers, their guests taxied back and forth by the makeshift ferry service the marina had set up. Most of the boats were decorated or in the process of being fancied up for the parade this weekend. The Driftwood Restaurant next to the marina, owned by the same couple, was already wall-to-wall people.
As she drove down Main Street, Marissa noted that, even though it was only Wednesday, the sidewalks were already jammed with both residents and holiday visitors. She was glad she’d decided to open the gallery early. Fourth of July banners hung from the lampposts along the streets and in almost every store window. She congratulated herself on bringing her own coffee and sweet roll. The lines at Fresh from the Oven and next door at Fresh Roasted snaked out both doors and down the sidewalk.
Lord. What would it be like by the time the weekend got there?
She wondered if Justin was teaching classes today, or had Avery sent him off on assignment? She hadn’t seen him since coffee two days ago, and she knew he was giving her the space he was sure she needed. He’d left a note on the gall
ery counter with his email, and she couldn’t count the number of times she’d started to enter it in her email program.
But she’d finally decided to talk to Avery first, confide in her. Ask her if she should clue Justin in. Right or wrong, she didn’t feel she could move forward with…whatever this was, unless he knew what he was getting into.
Maybe after this weekend, she’d ask Avery to carve out a few minutes for her. She sure didn’t want to wait much longer. Her body had turned itself into a constant state of readiness, and she was sure combustion was only moments away.
In a stroke of luck, a car was pulling away from a spot in front of the gallery just as she drove up. She was only mildly surprised to find people waiting in front, looking through the windows, and sipping coffee from their to-go cups. Or maybe it wasn’t coffee. They could be drinking mimosas or even straight vodka. She reminded herself to be calm and gracious, and lock up if the visitors got too unruly.
“Oh, you’re here.” A woman in walking shorts and a hot pink T-shirt smiled at her. “Good. We hoped you would be. My husband and I—we’re the Danforths, Laura and Howard—would really like a better look at the seascape in the window.”
“That’s one of my favorite pieces,” Marissa said, unlocking the door. “Come on in and take your time looking at it. I think you have to make friends with art before you decide to take it home.”
“Oh,” Laura Danforth said. “You are just so right. Howard, come look at this right now.”
Marissa hurried to hit the alarm panel then deposited her purse and her breakfast snack in the office. Then she slipped her handgun into her pocket and shrugged on the long vest that covered it. She had no idea what it was that had the hair on her arms standing up, or her neck itching. This was just a tourist couple out shopping. What was wrong with her?
