Hero (Alpha Mountain 1)

“Okay! That’s what I’m getting at.” Her tone was congratulatory. “Who doesn’t need an ex-Navy SEAL to, um, occupy their nights?”

I laughed as she pulled up and parked at the old Feed n’ Seed, which Holly Martin had turned the grain office section of it into a coffee shop.

Oldtimer locals were gathered around the large wooden spools that served as tables and footstools as they reclined in Adirondack chairs, swapping tales.

Hopefully none of the tales involved me and Ford.

“Hey, Indigo, I heard your place got broken into,” old Burt Hammond remarked as we climbed the steps to the wooden deck. “Megan, did you catch who did it, yet?”

“Not yet, Burt, but we’re working on it,” she called out with that sing-song quality of someone who has answered the same question at least a dozen times already. “But good news, the stop sign that got knocked down on Simpson is back up.”

We stepped inside, and Holly came to the counter. “Morning, ladies. What’s the news?”

This was how small town errands went. I could never just enter a store and take care of business. There was an exchange that had to happen first, even with the young people, like Megan and Holly.

“Not much, just picking up some coffees to go,” I said, trying to avoid turning the gossip wheel on the SEAL team.

“Heard your place got broken into. Is everything okay?” Holly was twenty-four and had used her business degree wisely. The Seed n’ Feed held its own with ranchers and farmers in the area, but the coffee shop was a great addition.

“Yep, nothing of value was taken, just more an inconvenience than anything,” I assured her. “May I have four coffees in to-go cups, please? Wait—make that five.” I turned to Megan. “Did you want one?”

“Yes, please,” Megan said. She leaned close and whispered, “I’m not dropping you off and missing the man candy show.”

“Six then, but make two of those mochas,” I said, remembering Kennedy like hot chocolate as much as I did.

“Sure thing. Four regular coffees and two mochas to go.” She moved efficiently behind the counter. “Where are you two headed?”

So much for not telling the whole story.

“There are some guys repairing the locks at my house and installing security,” I said.

“Ford and his team?” Holly obviously knew more about Ford’s new venture than I had. I ignored the stab of jealousy it produced because it was certainly possible the men had stopped in for coffee before.

I didn’t have any rights to Ford. We’d only spent one night together.

Although we’d had sex multiple times.

“Uh, yeah.”

Memories of just how incredible the sex had been flooded my brain, and I had to turn my head and look out the window to hide the heat I feared might be showing on my face.

“Have you met them?” I couldn’t help but ask as she worked the machine that steamed milk.

“No, I heard from Mrs. L. She loves having the bunch of them up with her.” Holly’s smile was warm as she slid the first two coffees onto the counter.

“I’ll bet she does—it must take the sting out of losing Mr. Ledger,” Megan said, mentioning Ford’s grandfather, who passed away a couple years ago.

“Here you go.” Holly set the last drink on the counter that was the old grain office counter. “Do you need a drink carrier?”

“Yes, please.” I offered her a smile and pulled out my wallet.

She produced one and loaded the coffees onto it. “Wouldn’t mind if the team wanted to stop by here for their own coffee,” she said with an impish smile.

So they hadn’t been by to ogle the pretty and young Holly.

“Right? Why do you think I offered to drive Indi over there?” Megan laughed.

So long as they knew Ford was taken. My stomach somersaulted at the idea of him actually being mine. The man who’d occupied all my teenage fantasies actually fulfilling some of them.

But I was getting way ahead of myself.

One night.

I’d had one night with him. It probably meant nothing to him. This was a guy who’d likely had a new girl in every port. Who could have Megan or Holly. Hell, Megan and Holly.

I grabbed the drink carrier and Megan picked up the two remaining cups, and we headed to her patrol car.

“Be safe,” Burt called as we passed him and his cronies.

“We sure will,” Megan chirped in reply. Her radio on her utility belt chirped, but she silenced it.

A short drive later, we pulled up in front of my place.

“Damn,” Megan said, eyeing Hayes’ muscled body.

He was up on a ladder in front of my picture window, presumably installing a sensor or camera or some kind of electronic… thing. He could have been setting up a circus tent, and we wouldn’t have known because—

“That ass,” she breathed. “Can you imagine gripping that while…” She cut herself off then used her hand to fan her face.