Bought His Life (3 page)

“Are you both sure?”

“I got what I wanted out of it.” Em placed the watch in her purse.

“And I really don’t care about antiques.” Jen shrugged. “I’m fine with the journal.”

“Thanks.” Kimber dropped the key inside the envelope before lifting the box. Joining Em and Jen, the three women walked together toward the road.

“What the hell do we do now?” Lawson grumbled. “Those dames have our stuff.”

“What I don’t understand is why they have it,” Jack said, running his palm down his face. “Somehow, our personal effects made it to the lieutenant’s house. Remember when we had to hand over all our possessions before we left?”

“Of course. That’s
my
key.”

“I say we follow those women and retrieve our belongings, and later, after we have our things back, we discuss our next move. Agree?”

“I’ll be right back.” Lawson held up a finger and stepped away, heading for the group of females.

“Where are you going?” Jack demanded.

Lawson looked over his shoulder and grinned. “To gather intelligence.”

He could hear Jack whistling as the captain strolled after him, clearly keeping enough distance so the women wouldn’t feel threatened by the arrival of two strangers.

Lawson approached the attractive females standing beside an orange vehicle.

“Why don’t you all come down to
Emy’s Place
and have something to eat?” The redhead smiled at the other women and looped her hand through the girl’s arm, knocking hips playfully with the teenager’s.

“Sorry, Mom, but I have swim practice and book club today. Later, Pops is picking me up from the library so I can sleep over. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” her mother replied. “Text me when you get back to grandpa’s place.”

“I can’t come either,” Kimber explained. “I need to make to quick trip to Miami.”

“But you’re on vacation,” Em complained.

“I know, I know. I’ll try to stop by later this afternoon.”

“Excuse me,” Lawson interrupted, addressing the sexy Kimber directly. “Do you have a moment?”

Dazzling hazel eyes shot daggers at him. If looks could kill…

“Bye,” the mother and daughter tittered, waving as they walked away.

While Kimber ignored their departure in favor of glaring at him, he smiled and waved back to the ladies.

Kimber raised perfectly arched eyebrows in query. “How can I help you?”

Damn, she smelled good. Her dark hair piled on top of head was haphazardly held in place by a clip. But it was the little tendrils that had escaped the toothed clasp that commandeered his attention. Watching them sway lazily in the breeze, it took everything in him not to capture one of the soft locks and wrap it around his finger.

“How can I help you?” she repeated tersely, her hands accurately communicating the same words she spoke aloud.

Fuck. He was supposed to retrieve their belongings, not sport the erection of his life.
Focus
, he thought, then smiled, more to gain self-control than to comfort her. “There’s no need to use sign language. My hearing is not impaired.”

Kimber crossed her arms and leaned back against the slick orange automobile. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”

Lawson purposely ignored the gibe. He’d only seen a few modern women, but decided he loved the casual, sexy way females of this time dressed. His body certainly did. This beauty wore a pink sleeveless shirt that pressed her full breasts up, showing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Her pants, off-white, baggy and tied at her hips, outlined curves meant to fill a man’s hands. Cute, pink-painted toenails peeked out from brown leather sandals.

He glanced up only to meet Kimber’s disapproving expression. Perhaps he’d stared at her attire a little too long.

“Do you live around here?” he asked, casually shifting to relieve the pressure in his groin.

“Why do you want to know?” she responded, suspicion lacing the quiet words.

“I’m new to the area, and I’m looking for a place to stay. Can you recommend an inn?”

“Yeah, try the Flaming Flamingo. It’s right down the street.” She pointed behind him. “Oh, wow, look there.”

He turned and searched for “there” as prompted, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Was she pointing to the inn in the distance? He couldn’t quite see anything but houses.

When he turned back to ask for clarification, she was already in the driver’s seat with the door swinging closed. She engaged the engine before he could formulate another question. Then he realized he and his straining penis had been duped.

“Wait,” he called, reaching for the vehicle in some derisory attempt to stall her departure. “Please. May I take you to dinner?”

With a contemptible snort, she threw a, “cold day in Hell,” out the window and pulled off. Lawson just managed to jump back before she ran over his foot.

“Gee, thank you for your help, lady,” he quipped, waving at the retreating vehicle like an idiot. “It was a pleasure speaking to someone as ill-tempered as you.”

She suddenly slammed on the brakes and squealed to a halt.

Lawson allowed a smug smile to touch his lips as he lowered his hand. “Coming back, are we?”

Unfortunately, his budding hope that she would reverse was instantly dashed when she popped her arm out the window and stuck up her middle finger. She then peeled off.

Jack burst into laughter. “I’d bet that gesture means the same thing now that it did seventy years ago. You really wooed the pants off of her. It’s nice to know you still have a way with the ladies no matter what century you’re in.”

Lawson thinned his lips. “How much money do we have?”

Jack pulled the bills from his pocket and began to count. “We’ll consider it back pay and let the government worry about it.” The captain shrugged. “Far as I can tell, it’s close to two thousand. Not bad for a couple of old fogies like us,” he continued, splitting the stack of cash in two piles. “It’s a hefty sum, but I’ll bet the cost of living has gone up—way up—since we got our last paycheck.”

“How do you know?”

“You should have seen how much money some of these people were forking over for broken stuff.”

Lawson took the money the captain handed him and stuffed the wad in his pocket.

“Grey, since your target left town until later, you go to the Flaming Flamingo and get us a place to stay. Leave a note at the desk of the hotel so I know where to find you. My target is the woman they called Em, which means I’ll head to the restaurant she mentioned. We meet tonight at the hotel to share intelligence.”

“I’m guessing we’re on foot until we purchase a new vehicle.” Lawson gazed at the MB, a longing in his gut. “It sure is a fine piece of machinery, but I don’t think we should use it anymore. This time has advanced technology. It’s possible the vehicle has equipment that will allow the authorities to find us. After all, we did steal it.”

“No, we borrowed it for official military use,” Jack corrected. “But you’re right. We leave the Jeep and let the authorities find it. The details of our mission were known by few, and I doubt anyone who worked on the project is still alive.” He paused, concern lining his forehead. “Do you think anybody will believe us if we tell them who we were and what happened to us?”

Lawson shook his head. “I doubt it. Remember what the mission scientists said about the many risks and dangers of changing the past, ruining the future irreparable, etcetera? I imagine the practical science of time travel has been kept from the general public.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Then how do we get back to 1944?”

Lawson didn’t answer, but the unspoken “we don’t” hung in the air like pungent smoke. After all, there were a number of theorists working on the project, but only one of them truly understood the complexities of dimensional portals and time vortexes well enough to plot a stable trajectory—and that scientist was surely dead now.

He looked to Jack, who was busy staring down the street. Following the captain’s gaze, he saw the mother and daughter, Emily and Jen, in the distance.

The captain sighed and turned back to him. “We need to assess the present situation and plan accordingly. Even if we find appropriate military leaders to introduce ourselves to, we don’t want to be locked away in asylums or treated like laboratory animals, do we?”

“Hell, no,” Lawson responded.

“We’ll worry about getting home later,” Jack reassured. “At the moment, we’re stuck here, so let’s concentrate on things that are presently in our control—namely, finding a place to sleep and the retrieval of our belongings. That box holds not only our past, but our future.”

“Agreed.”

“In the meantime, we need to make sure we don’t do anything to change history from what it should be. Got it?”

“Got it.” Lawson nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What about Jones?”

The captain lowered his gaze. “I don’t know. There’s no sense of him being here. It’s doubtful he made it.”

Regret settled between them, but the situation was not in their control.

“He was a good and honorable man.”

“That he was,” the captain agreed and grasped Lawson’s upper arm. “Grey, good luck on your new mission, and may God be with us.”

Chapter Three

Emily Mitchell squeezed by the people waiting to be seated in her tiny café, and the euphoria over finding the perfect gift for her grandfather’s birthday dissipated with each step she took into the off-season mayhem. The Florida Keys were notorious for being dead in November, but this month was proving to be an exception.

Emy’s Place
was crammed with weekend guests, and Betty, the older woman who had been with Emily since the day she’d opened, was the sole server on the floor. Two empty tables sat piled with dirty dishes, waiting to cleared for more diners, and a regular customer was behind the counter pouring his own coffee.

“What’s going on?” Emily asked, following her only waitress to the kitchen pass-thru.

“Move your ass and pick this freaking stuff up,” the cook called from the kitchen window.

Emily’s nerves screamed on edge like a fire alarm set off by his words. Without bothering to take a breath, she turned her head and shot the cook what she hoped was a killer look of warning.

“Rick! A little respect please.”

“Don’t pay his slip of the tongue any mind, dear. He’s frustrated,” Betty explained. “The busboy and Mary took off for Key West last night but didn’t bother to call in until half an hour ago.” Betty rolled her eyes and picked up the plates off the stainless steel shelf.

“Why?” Em asked, looking around the dining room and anticipating the guests’ needs. “How?”

“They’re getting married because she’s pregnant. I think they’re planning a week or two of a honeymoon. A little warning would have been good, no? The work ethic some people hold is ridiculous!”

“Okay, okay, let’s just get done with the rush,” Emily said, tying a white apron around her waist and pulling her unruly locks into a quick ponytail. She snatched a bus pan and went to clear the tables.

Ten pots of coffee and two complete dining room turnovers made time fly. The tableware stacked in the bus pans attested to the hectic lunch hour. Unfortunately, someone would have to take care of those piles soon, and since the two employees still in the restaurant weren’t getting paid to wash dishes, Emily knew how she’d be spending her afternoon.

“Whatcha thinking of, honey?” Betty scooted past Emily at the counter and poured two mugs of coffee.

“Just that I don’t want to do the dishes.”

“Yeah, well, we’re down to the last five mugs. Glassware first, then maybe we can bribe Ricky to do the dishes.”

“You think I didn’t try?” Emily asked, exhausted by looking at the dirty plates calling her name.

Betty laughed and walked off to deliver the mugs of heavenly smelling coffee. Emily poured herself half a cup, took a long sip then started on the glassware. Thankfully, the glass machine was behind the counter and not in the kitchen. She was able to keep an eye on the dining room and see if Betty needed her help while she loaded, unloaded, then put away.

Arranging clean juice tumblers in the cabinet put a smile on Emily’s face. She enjoyed the sun reflecting off the smooth surface and took pride in displaying the glasses on the shelves. Times had been rough lately, but she knew things were about to get better. Judging from the last few days’ work and the day’s lunch, business was improving. Adding to the welcomed news of the extra needed income, she’d found Pop’s ideal birthday gift for practically no money, and she didn’t need to stress over it anymore.

Betty came back and playfully pinched Emily’s heated cheek.

“That’s my girl. Sorry you walked into the chaos, sweetie. I tried my best.”

“I know you did.” Emily smiled at the other woman, trying hard to show her how much she appreciated her. “The customers were oblivious to the chaos, chatting and eating like the jammed tables were no issue at all for good service. It looked like you were doing great.”

“Sure. I was about to drop. When I saw you skipping toward the door, I almost did somersaults—” Betty stopped mid-sentence and changed the subject. “Hey, tell me what had you so happy coming in here like that? Maybe you met a handsome man?”

“No. No handsome man,” she replied, chuckling at Betty’s insistence for the need of a man in her life.

“No matter what you say, young lady, a man could do you some good.”

Emily loaded the last of the mugs into the machine, grinning with triumphant over her find and the thought of a man doing her good. “Whatever. If the right man comes along, I won’t say no. In the meantime, I found Pop’s gift. The absolutely most perfect gift.”

Betty placed her elbows on the counter, joined her hands and rested her chin on them. Emily laughed and knew why she loved this woman like her own family. Always supportive and willing to listen, Betty was an unshakable pillar of acceptance.

“Okay, remember the story my cousin Meagan tells about how I used to make Pops all different types of watches?”