Hold Me (4 page)

The idea for the bar had been with him for a while. When he’d come to Fool’s Gold, he’d realized this was where he could make it happen. Jo’s Bar in town did a good business, but catered mostly to women. The pastel color scheme and TV stations tuned to fashion and shopping kind of freaked him out. Where did guys go to just hang? A few conversations later, he had partners and a long-term lease from Josh.

He flipped on lights and surveyed the room. They were still waiting on some tables and chairs. The liquor license had been approved the previous week. Now they were getting suppliers lined up.

The front door opened, and Nick and Aidan Mitchell walked inside.

The two men were locals, born and raised in Fool’s Gold. From what Kipling had heard, there were five Mitchell brothers. The youngest two were twins. The twins and the oldest brother, Del, had moved away.

At his partners’ suggestion, Kipling had hired Nick to manage the bar. Aidan, a year or two older, ran the family business—Mitchell Adventure Tours. The company catered to tourists and offered everything from easy day hikes to white-water rafting.

“Looking good,” Aidan said as they approached. “You’re going to be opening soon.”

“Three weeks max,” Nick said easily. “I’m already hiring servers.”

Both men were tall, with dark hair and eyes. Aidan glared at his brother. “Seriously? Hiring servers.”

Nick’s relaxed expression tightened. “Don’t start on me.”

“You’re not worth the trouble.”

There was both frustration and affection in Aidan’s tone. From what Kipling had been able to piece together, the family was close, but not without its troubles. The father was Ceallach Mitchell, the famous glass artist. He was known both for his brilliance and his temper. Nick had apparently inherited his ability but not his interest. From what Kipling could tell, Nick had been tending bar for years, rather than working with glass.

Aidan was on his brother a lot—complaining that the younger Mitchell could do so much more than simply run a bar. As Kipling had a complicated relationship with his own sister, he did his best to stay out of these family dynamics.

“You given any thought to what we talked about?” Kipling asked Aidan.

The older brother raised one shoulder. “You know I don’t have time.”

Kipling knew when to keep quiet. It was a trick he’d learned from his coach. Let ’em talk it out, and they’ll almost always come round to your way of thinking.

“Yeah,” Aidan continued. “I know it’s a volunteer assignment, but we get busy in the summer.”

“You’re busy all year round,” Nick said cheerfully. “What if it’s one of your customers who’s lost?”

Aidan swore at his brother. “No one asked you.”

“I’m a giver. I don’t need to be asked.”

Kipling held in a chuckle.

Aidan glared. “Don’t pressure me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kipling told him. “Did I mention it was Mayor Marsha who suggested I ask you?”

Aidan swore again. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll be one of your damned volunteers.”

“Good to know. I’ll get you the paperwork within a day.”

“There’s paperwork?” Aidan shook his head. “No good deed.”

Nick slapped him on the back. “You know it.”

“Don’t think you won’t be right there beside me,” Aidan told him.

“Never planned for it to be otherwise.”

Two for the price of one,
Kipling thought with satisfaction. The search and rescue team, which he refused to think of as HERO, would be staffed mostly by volunteers. He would be in charge, and he was hiring a second-in-command, not to mention a couple of support staff. But everyone else would work on a volunteer basis. It was the easiest way to keep costs down.

Given the willingness of the community to get involved, Kipling didn’t think he would have a problem getting everyone trained. He’d already spoken to both the police and fire chiefs, and they’d assured him he would have plenty of their folks showing up.

Aidan was the one he wanted, though. With his business, he knew the area better than almost anyone. When someone was lost, Kipling wanted Aidan on the ground, looking.

“When does training begin?” Nick asked.

“Not for about a month. The facilitator from STORMS arrived a couple of days ago. She has to get the terrain mapped and the software up and running first.”

Aidan nodded. “The tall redhead, right? I’ve seen her around town. What’s her name?”

“Destiny Mills.”

Kipling wanted to say more. Like the fact that her green eyes reminded him of spring leaves against the last snow of the season. Only he wasn’t a guy who talked like that. No one did. At least no one he knew.

“You could use a woman,” Nick said, nudging his brother.

“She’s not my type.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met her.”

Aidan’s expression tightened. “She isn’t. Let it go.” He turned and walked out.

Nick waited until his brother was gone to shake his head. “He won’t date anyone longer than fifteen minutes. One day that lifestyle’s going to bite him in the ass. What about you? What are your thoughts on Ms. Destiny Mills?”

Kipling wasn’t sharing them with anyone but the woman in question. “I’m working with her, not dating her. Why all the interest?”

“I’m the bartender. I need to know things.”

Kipling thought briefly about warning Nick off. He had his own plans for Destiny. Then he realized there was no point. If Destiny was interested in the same thing he was, he would know soon enough. If she wasn’t, then Nick was welcome. Kipling had never had much trouble getting or keeping women. His problem was more along the lines of never feeling he wanted more than a temporary arrangement. But until it was time to walk away, he was interested in wherever Destiny wanted to go.

* * *

D
ESTINY
WOKE
UP
earlier than usual. By the time she’d showered and dressed it was still a few minutes before six. She grabbed her wallet and stuffed it in the front pocket of her jeans then walked quietly to the front door and let herself out.

It was still cool, although the weather guy had promised a nice warm day. The sky was clear, and the neighborhood quiet. She zipped up her hoodie and turned toward town.

One of the advantages of constantly moving around was discovering local businesses. So far her Fool’s Gold finds were a street truck that served incredible sandwiches by Pyrite Park and Ambrosia Bakery. The former solved her lunch problem and the latter was going to require her to add a little exercise to her routine.

She crossed empty streets. As she got closer to the bakery, she saw a few people and a couple of cars. A jogger nodded as he passed her.

Destiny liked discovering the rhythm of each town she worked in. They were all similar, with just enough differences to keep things interesting. In a way, like the rhythm of a song. Stanzas told a story, and the chorus was the exploration of a theme. The backbone that held it all together.

She turned on Second Street and saw the bakery ahead on her left. The doors stood open, which meant it was now after six. She walked in and inhaled the sweet combination of sugar, cinnamon and freshly baked bread. Talk about heaven.

A petite blonde stood behind the counter. She had blue eyes and a pretty face. There was something familiar about her, although Destiny knew they hadn’t met. Her name tag said Shelby.

“Morning,” Shelby said with a smile. “You’re up early.”

“Not as early as you.” Destiny motioned to the display case full of pastries. “Unless these were baked last night.”

Shelby laughed. “No such luck. I was here at three.”

Destiny winced. “Okay, I like to get up early, but that would challenge even me.”

“I know. When I have a day off, I sleep late. Which means four-thirty. It’s an odd schedule, that’s for sure. What can I get you?”

Destiny chose a half-dozen Danish. She would leave most of them for Starr and maybe take one to work.

Shelby put the pastries in a silver-and-white-striped box. “Are you new in town or visiting?”

“I’m new. Here for the summer to set up software for the search and rescue program.”

Shelby nodded. “HERO.” She laughed again. “My brother is Kipling Gilmore. I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. He’s running the program. And totally hates the name, by the way. If you want to torture him or something, just keep saying it out loud.”

“I have met him, and I appreciate the advice.”

Destiny studied the other woman, realizing now why she looked familiar.

Shelby handed over the box. “You know, you don’t have to come here for Danish. Not that I don’t appreciate the company. But most people want coffee, too, and we don’t do that. You can get our baked goods over at Brew-haha.”

“I’m not much for coffee. Just sugar.” Destiny thought about her conversation with Kipling and what Mayor Marsha had said about the program. “Have you lived in town long? I got the impression that Kipling was a relatively new addition to the population.”

“Nearly a year.” Shelby’s smile faded. “I moved here last summer. My mom died and, well, it’s complicated. Kipling was in rehab until January. Physical, not the other kind. Oh, do you know who he is? The skiing and all that?”

Destiny nodded. “I figured it out. The accident was pretty bad. I’m glad he’s okay now.” She hesitated, not sure what to say about Shelby’s mother. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks. It never goes away, but I’m dealing with it. Having Kipling around helps. I mean he’s totally annoying, but I love him. He’s the only family I have left. I’d be lost without him.”

“It’s nice to have family around,” Destiny murmured, thinking of Starr. The girl was only fifteen and pretty much alone in the world. It was good they were going to have the summer to get to know each other.

A couple of guys walked into the bakery. They were tall and broad-shouldered and wearing shorts and T-shirts. They looked familiar, too, although she couldn’t place them. Was everyone in this town related?

“Loser buys,” the dark-haired guy said. “That means you.”

“Nice, Sam. I am so kicking your ass on the court today.”

“See you tomorrow,” Destiny told Shelby and headed for the door.

She passed by the two men. They were both wearing wedding rings. Not that she’d been attracted to either of them. She was strong and powerful and never sucked in by something as temporal as sex. She had goals and rules and a plan. And if all that failed, she had Danish.

She started back for the house. There were more people out on the street now, and the sun was rising in the sky. She smiled and greeted those who waved at her. She liked the friendliness of the town.

At the corner, she checked before crossing. As she glanced to her left, she saw a man jogging away from her. His stride was slightly uneven, and his pace slower than most. As the information registered in her brain, she recognized Kipling.

There were scars on his legs and a hitch to his gait. She thought about all that he would have gone through after his accident and wondered about the courage it took to recover from something like that. No, not recover. Thrive. It spoke highly of his character.

She crossed the street and made her way to her rental house. Once inside, she left the Danish on the table and hurried into her bedroom. After closing the door, she got her guitar out of the closet and sat on the edge of the bed.

Words tumbled around a half-formed melody. Aware of Starr sleeping on the other side of the hall, she strummed quietly, pausing every now and then to write down lyrics or notes.

Too many ways and too many days. Testing and hurting, I see you alone. Too many nights of wanting it right and I’m walking...

She pressed her palm against the strings as she struggled with the line.

The song beckoned. The need to get lost in finding the right combination of notes and syllables grew. Of meaning and phrases. She glanced at her small bedside clock. She had to be at work, and she didn’t want Starr to hear her. Better to start her morning.

She drew in a breath, then compromised by setting her phone timer for forty-five minutes. When the beeper sounded, she forced herself to put away her guitar and shoved the worn notebook into her nightstand.

She had a real job, she reminded herself. A regular life. The rest of it—the songs and the music—were just play. She made deliberate choices for a reason. Staying in control was all that kept her safe. Vigilance, she reminded herself. Determination. She was stronger than her biology. She always would be.

CHAPTER THREE

K
IPLING
SET
UP
the new computers on the desks that had been delivered the previous week. He sorted the packing material into recycle and trash piles, then carried it all out back. When he returned, Destiny was walking into the HERO office.

“Right on time,” he said, taking in the jeans, boots and short-sleeved T-shirt she wore. She’d pulled her long hair back into a ponytail.

From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing makeup. She used a small backpack for a handbag and certainly didn’t dress to impress anyone. She wasn’t the kind of woman who kept a man waiting “just five more minutes” while she primped. All pluses in his book.

“I see the computers arrived,” she said by way of greeting. “I’ll let my tech guys know. They’ll be here in a couple of days to load and test the software. While they’re doing that, I’ll be mapping the terrain. Then we’ll get started on training you and your volunteers on STORMS.”

“Good morning,” he said. “How was your evening?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t take you for someone who lived for social niceties, but sure. I can do that. Good morning, Kipling. Did you have a nice jog this morning?”

“How did you know I was out jogging?”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I went out to get some breakfast and saw you. Going the other way. I would have called out, but you were too far away. I wasn’t spying or anything.”

“I never thought you were.”

She’d been watching him. A year ago, he would have read that as a good sign. One of interest. Today he was less sure. She could have been put off by the scars or his limp. Although she didn’t strike him as overly concerned about that sort of thing.

“It’s the small-town thing,” she continued. “You can’t really escape anyone. Not that you were trying to. Or anything.”

She dropped her backpack on the desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Feeling awkward?” he asked.

“Very.”

“Want to move on to another topic?”

“More than you know.”

He grinned. “Then let’s get down to business.”

Unlike the mayor’s office, there was no comfortable sofa-and-chair arrangement. In the command center, conversations took place around a metal table with folding chairs. He and Destiny settled at one corner. She pulled a laptop out of her backpack and booted it. While it did its thing, she handed over a couple sheets of paper.

“This is the preliminary schedule,” she told him. “Mapping and testing will take about a month. We’ll have multiple practice rescues that will all go badly. For those, we want as small a group participating as possible. So no one gets discouraged.”

“You’re assuming the worst.”

“I’ve done this before,” she told him. “Man and machine don’t work well together without training. Once we get the kinks worked out, we’ll broaden the practice areas and bring in more people.”

She was sitting close enough that they could both see her laptop screen, which also meant he could inhale the scent of her shampoo. Something floral, he thought. A bit of a surprise considering how she didn’t seem all that interested in being girly with her clothes or accessories.

Unexpected nuances. Everyone had them. They were some of his favorite things to discover. What else was she hiding? Was there a passionate woman behind the “all business” exterior? Was she quiet in bed, or a screamer? He was open to either.

She turned to get something out of her backpack. As she moved, her ponytail swung toward him. Dark red hair curled slightly at the ends, begging to be touched. He knew the strands would be soft. For a second he allowed himself the fantasy of her pulling out the band holding her hair in place and shaking her head. Like in one of those cheesy perfume commercials. Maybe she would crook her finger at him.

Unlikely, he thought, holding in a grin at the image. Destiny didn’t strike him as the sultry type. He would guess she was more practical than seductive. Again, not a problem for him.

She set more papers on the desk and scanned the top sheet. “You’re going to be hiring a second-in-command?”

He forced his attention back to the job at hand. “Yes. I have interviews lined up for the next few weeks. There will also be a couple of paid staffers.” She made a couple of notes as he spoke. “The volunteer force is impressive. Mostly firefighters and cops, along with a few locals who—”

She turned to him. “Sam Ridge.”

“You know him?”

“What? No. I saw him today. At the bakery. He and another guy came in as I left. The one said Sam. I’ve been trying to figure out who he is.” She leaned toward him. “He’s a former NFL kicker. There are a lot of former pro athletes in this town. You, the football guys and some cyclist, too... There was an article about him on the Fool’s Gold website. You’re in good company. Is that why you wanted to move here?”

“Not exactly.”

Her mouth curved up in a smile. “Let me guess. It has something to do with Mayor Marsha.”

“As a matter of fact, it does. She came to see me in New Zealand after my crash and offered me the job.”

He hadn’t cared about the job, he thought grimly, remembering the helplessness he’d felt trapped in a hospital bed, not sure if he would ever walk again. He’d cared about his sister and what she was going through. People said love was a big deal. He’d never thought that. Love didn’t get the job done. When Shelby had been dodging their father’s fists, Kipling’s love hadn’t been able to do a damn thing to save her.

Then Mayor Marsha had shown up and offered a miracle. He didn’t know how the old lady had known what was happening, but she had. As promised, she’d protected Shelby and in return, he’d moved to Fool’s Gold.

He knew he’d gotten the best end of the deal. Shelby was safe, and he had a place to start over. A place where he was simply Kipling Gilmore. Not world famous G-Force. Which probably sounded good enough to most people. He was healed, and he could settle down. What few realized was after years of being a god, sometimes it was hard to settle.

“That’s a long way to go to hire someone,” Destiny said.

“I’m worth it.”

Destiny laughed. “Okay, I’ll pretend to agree with you. Was she on vacation?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I never much thought about it. I was pretty banged up and out of it. There were things to deal with.”

He still remembered Mayor Marsha standing beside his hospital bed and telling him she could take care of his sister. He hadn’t believed her, but she’d come through. His old man had been thrown in jail, Shelby had been safe and when he’d healed enough, he’d shown up to take the offered job.

“And?” Destiny prompted.

“She made an irresistible offer,” he said, not wanting to share the truth with anyone. More to protect Shelby than himself. “And here I am.”

“You’re uniquely qualified for the job. You know your way around mountains.”

“Less on foot than on skis.”

“Does that bother you?”

He thought about what it had been like to fly down the snow. To go faster than anyone. He thought about the feel of the wind, the sounds, the fact that for those few seconds, it was only him and the impossible odds against winning.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Giving up the dream?” she asked.

He nodded. “It was going to happen eventually, but I wanted it on my terms.”

“But what you did was dangerous. You could have hurt yourself.”

He looked into her green eyes. “I did hurt myself.”

“I mean it could have been worse. Was it worth it?”

He didn’t have to consider his answer. He knew what it was like to defy gravity. He’d been the best. “Absolutely.”

“I’ll never understand that. Why would you deliberately take that kind of risk?”

“For the reward.”

Her nose wrinkled. “A trophy and some arm candy?”

“The thrill of winning. Doing what hadn’t been done before.”

“So you break a record. Someone else will break yours. The glory is fleeting.”

“The mountain is forever and when I skied, I was part of it.”

* * *

A
S
K
IPLING
SPOKE
, he seemed to be looking past her, to something she couldn’t see. Destiny couldn’t understand what he was talking about. Not the meaning behind the words, anyway. Why would someone willingly put themselves in harm’s way? Of course she’d often asked her parents why they were willing to risk their marriage and family for a few nights of passion, and they hadn’t been able to explain that, either.

She supposed her inability to understand was more about her than them. She wasn’t looking for the thrill in any form, while it seemed that nearly everyone else sought it no matter the cost. But although she could usually dismiss her parents’ choices with a shrug, she found herself wanting to know more about Kipling’s. To understand what had driven him to take the risks.

“So you’re part of the mountain?” she asked. “A part of something larger than yourself?”

He gave her one of his easy smiles. “Something like that.”

“That one I get,” she told him. “When I’m alone in nature, there’s a peace. A connection. But you can feel that sitting still.”

“
You
can,” he corrected. “I do it with speed.”

Her gaze locked with his. In that moment, the world seemed to shrink just a little bit. Or maybe go out of focus was more accurate. She could hear the beating of her heart and knew that she was breathing, but all that seemed separate from the act of looking into his dark blue eyes.

They were sitting closer than she’d realized. Close enough that she was both uncomfortable and a little bit jumpy. Leaning forward seemed the most logical thing to do, although she couldn’t for the life of her say why. Lean forward and then what?

Rather than give in, she drew back slightly and searched for a neutral topic. “I met your sister this morning.”

“You went with the breakfast of champions, then?”

“I bought Danish for my sister.”

One brow rose. “Now you’re lying.”

“Fine. I bought them for myself, but I left most of them with her.” She shuffled the papers in front of her. “It’s nice that Shelby could move to Fool’s Gold, too. Have you always been close?”

“Mostly. I traveled a lot, and that made it harder, but we’ve stayed in touch. You know how it goes.”

“Not really,” she said before she could stop herself. “My parents had me nine months after they got married. They split up when I was five. While they were apart, my dad married someone else and had a baby with her. My mom got pregnant by some other guy, then my parents got back together. It was confusing.”

There was so much more. Other marriages, separations and divorces. Lacey and Jimmy Don believed in living large. Destiny had been passed around to relatives and friends. She’d spent time on the road with her parents. Finally, Grandma Nell had stepped in, taking her away from all the craziness. From the first moment Destiny had set foot in the small house in the mountains, she knew she was where she belonged.

“I don’t really know Starr,” she admitted. “We have the same father, but until two weeks ago, I’d never met her.”

“That’s tough. How are things going?”

“Okay, I guess. I hope they are. She doesn’t talk much, and I’ve never been responsible for a teenager before. She seems excited about the summer camp Mayor Marsha told me about. I think it would help if she got out and could make some friends.” She hesitated. “I don’t know what she wants. From me or her life. When I was her age... Let’s just say it was different.”

“Different how?”

Before she could figure out how to answer, a familiar low rumble sounded overhead. It grew louder, then quieter.

“I can’t believe it,” she said with a grin. “What is it about your gender? Can’t you just walk into a room? Do you always have to make an entrance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She pointed to the ceiling. “That noise you just heard? It’s Miles, buzzing the town on his way to the airport. Because he thinks it’s cool. My helicopter pilot is one of the best, but he has the emotional maturity of a toddler. Come on. You’ll want to meet him, and I have to warn him that he’s not to make trouble while he’s here.”

“Does he usually?”

She thought about the string of broken hearts and shattered dreams Miles left in his wake. Sort of the reverse of bread crumbs. Because once Miles walked away, he never came back.

“Always. He says it’s part of his charm.”

“What do you say?” Kipling asked.

“That he needs a good smack upside the head.”

* * *

T
HEY
TOOK
HIS
J
EEP
out to the small airport. Sure enough, a helicopter sat on the tarmac. As Kipling came to a stop, a guy climbed out and waved. Destiny scrambled out of the Jeep and raced toward him.