Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three (15 page)

What exactly did that mean in the real world, friends with benefits? Did that mean they could each go their own way, see other people, have other playmates? She didn’t think she wanted that. As far as she was able to tell, she seemed to be a one-man sort of woman. Or, at least, one man at a time.

MacBride was clear—he wanted her to leave Sanctuary, bunk at his house.

Despite what he said, she knew he meant
not
in the guest room. If she did that, she’d never be able to keep her hands off him. Knowing how he affected her whenever he was within sight, she guessed MacBride would need to escape to the cop shop to catch naps and rest up between bouts of lava-hot sex play.

Sanctuary, on the other hand, definitely lived up to its name. It could be her refuge, her haven. Her shelter. She knew she could hide out there for as long as she desired.

Is that what I want to do, hide out? I’ve never been a coward in my entire life. I took the
world on when I was five years old. Do I really want to escape from him?

* * * * *

It appeared that everyone in town had grown hungry at the same time, which meant Keko was forced to park along the far side of the town square, then walk to the Hungry Bear Café. She’d promised to pick up Kamaka’s cheddar-bacon burger and the deep-fried mushrooms he liked, bring them back with her to Sanctuary. Just as she stepped to the sidewalk, a tall, lanky man with slicked back hair approached her. Loose jointed, his head and shoulders bobbed like Big Bird’s.

“Miss,
uh
, miss.” He pushed his thick, brown, Clark Kent glasses back up his long nose. His upper teeth protruded a bit, and he’d dressed in total tourist garb, right down to the white embroidered shirt that was too long, red plaid golfing slacks that were too short, white socks, tennis shoes. “Do you live around here?”

Oh goody, someone more displaced than I am
. “No, I don’t. But maybe I can help.

Where are you trying to go?”

The man took a colorful local street map from his back pocket. “I’m attempting to locate an establishment called the Cata-Lodge. I arrived with my history teachers’ tour group, but my contemporaries appear to have left me behind.”

He was well spoken, but his voice sounded wimpy, nasally, his speech correct, but the tone whiny.

Not a good trait for a teacher who must command his students with authority.

Keko wasn’t familiar with much of the town, but she knew the Cata-Lodge because some of the Fibbies bunked there. “No problem. You probably missed the corner. The Lodge is on the other side of the Hungry Bear. You came too far.”

She pointed in the correct direction.

He grabbed her outstretched hand, which surprised her, then shook it vigorously. “Thank you so much, you are very kind. I am Professor Simms. One would think you are a native. Where is home, exactly?” He looked at her expectantly, did not release her fingers from his grasp.

Trained more carefully than that, Keko did not reveal her name or her hometown, but did reclaim her hand. “It was nice to meet you, professor. I hope you find your tour group, and enjoy your holiday.”

“Oh, I’m sure we shall. It’s sort of a busman’s holiday—such a historic region.”

“Is it really? I didn’t know. The beautiful scenery does it for me.”

He adjusted his glasses, again. “Forgive me for being forward, but you could even join us, if you wished. I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind. Having a young person in our midst would be refreshing. Offer a different point of view.”

Jeez, fella, go away already
. She pointedly looked at her watch. “That’s very generous, but no. I do have an appointment, and I’m already pressed for time.”

She watched the odd professor amble away like a disjointed scarecrow, then she took a moment to scan her surroundings.

Standing on the cobbled walk in front of the Hungry Bear, its stones as precisely fitted as those of the pyramids, and, hopefully, as long lasting, she watched families scurry like picnic ants around and through the town square. Larger-than-life bronze statues of those whom she assumed were historical heroes, mounted on fiery steeds, sat on large concrete bases in the park. Children laughed and teased each other into healthy games of catch-me-if-you-can and tag-you’re-it. She wondered what small-town life had to offer its residents after the tourists went home, versus living on the outskirts of Boston, where the action never stopped. She wondered what it might offer to her.

“I can assure you that he’s not going to leave here.”

Surprised, Keko spun around. “I beg your pardon?”

Well, hello again, Miss Dock Bumpers
. The bimbo from the airport, the platinum blonde of the poofy hairstyle, encroached on Keko’s personal space. Except the over-teased hair had been pulled back with a wide, brown, grosgrain bow. Still well-tailored, the busty blonde wore a crisp white shirt, pleated beige slacks, cream angora sweater with the arms tied across her chest, rust-colored loafers. A large designer handbag hung from her shoulder.

Keko backed up as she raised an eyebrow. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Sheriff Mac. He will not leave. He’s made a home and a life here, so you can just forget about taking him away.”

Sheriff Mac? Give me a break
. “Ma’am, I have no idea who you are, and my private life is none of your concern.” Keko turned toward the diner doors.
Damn, she has a giant
set of cojones
.

“Don’t play coy with me. We met at the airport, even though we weren’t properly introduced. Men aren’t very good at that sort of thing. Pepper Hunsacker, of
the
Hunsackers, and it’s Miss, not Ms. or ma’am. And don’t you even think about walking away from me.” The woman grabbed Keko by the wrist with polished talons.

Before Pepper of
the
Hunsackers could draw another breath, her arm was twisted behind her back.

Being somewhat shorter, Keko growled close to her nemesis’ ear. “What the hell is your problem? Have you lost your freakin’ mind? Don’t you ever,
ever
, touch me again, or I’ll tear your arm off at the elbow and beat you to bloody death with it.”

To avoid making a scene, Keko released the woman’s arm. She hoped no one noticed the altercation. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you to keep your freakin’ hands to yourself? Go shop for yarn or something, and leave me alone.”

Pepper rubbed her arm where Keko had gripped her, but she didn’t disappear.

“He’s not going to leave. Men are always interested in things that are different, and you’re just the shiny new toy. Sparkly. When the sparkle wears off, Mac will see you for what you are. A stranger, an interloper. Not made for durability, not for the long run.

This isn’t your town, you don’t have any history here. You don’t belong.” She folded her arms under her sizeable bosom. “My family has been here for generations. You won’t last. You should leave here while you still have some measure of dignity.”

Oh dear Christ in heaven, is this broad for real?
Keko leveled a hard look at the Pepper person. “Are you still here? I see your lips moving, but all they seem to be spewing forth is meaningless bullshit. I don’t know why you decided to fuck up my day, but if you have a personal issue with Sheriff MacBride, I strongly suggest you take it up with him.”

“You shouldn’t use such bad language in public. It’s not polite. The use of profanity is nothing more than strong words delivered from a weak mind.”

Keko muttered as she turned away, walked toward the diner. “That’s good to know. I’ll try to remember not to spew profanity the next time I’m accosted on the street by a raving fucking lunatic.”

“But I’m not finished speaking—”

Keko continued to walk, spoke over her shoulder. “You may not be finished speaking, but I’m
so
finished listening.”

“Problem, ladies?”

Deputy Joe Collins, MacBride’s right hand man, casually placed himself between Keko and the source of her irritation. With his long, lean, lifeguard look, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Collins managed to look downright sexy in his tailored, khaki police uniform. Sexy enough to change the focus of the discussion.

Pepper-of-
the-
Hunsackers’ demeanor changed as quickly as a chameleon changes colors. She practically salivated as she slid her arm in his. “Deputy Joe, how nice to see you. No problem at all. Just a bit of silly girl talk, nothing that would interest you, a man of the law.”

More like trash talk, you evil conniving bitch
. A brief glance from Joe told Keko he knew exactly what had been going on.

“Miss Hunsacker, my shift begins shortly, and I thought I’d hit up the ice cream parlor for a root beer float. Will you join me? No one in town makes them better than Shenanigan’s. Don’t you agree?” With a nod to Keko, he led the aged debutante across the street, toward the far side of the square.

Keko could no longer hear the conversation, but it appeared that Pepper Hunsacker’s chatter was incapable of slowing down.
Joe, I owe you one, buddy. You
prevented me from being arrested on a charge of justifiable homicide
.

As she waited at the Hungry Bear’s take-out counter for Kamaka’s huge cheddar-bacon burger and fried mushrooms, Keko tried subtle deep-breathing exercises to pull herself under some sort of control.
How dare that bitch waylay me on the street like that,
right out in public?

Keko made it back to the Explorer with no further interruptions, cardboard box in hand. Still seething, but at a somewhat reduced level, she circled the town square. It being her first solo trip from Scotty’s to town to Sanctuary, she followed the arrows on the graphite-smudged map that Chandler had drawn for her.

Sheriff Mac and Pepper of
the
Hunsackers? No way in hell.

Chapter Ten

Wednesday early evening

With the setting of the deep orange sun, the shadows were growing long by the time she reached the now-familiar lodge driveway. She used her key card to get through the gate, then sat in the parking area for a few minutes as she took in the view.

Funny, it already feels like home. But I have a home—in Boston. And the high and mighty locals
in Catafuckingmount Lake, Maine did not see fit to roll out the red carpet for me
.

“Keek, you’re late.” Lorelei was in the great room, clad in a slinky knee-length emerald green sheath with a matching shorty jacket. She fussed with silver hoop earrings as she hopped on one foot, searching for her other shoe. “You barely have time to dress for dinner if we’re going to make our reservation.”

“You’ll never guess … .” Keko choked back the rest of the words before she blurted out what happened in town.

“I’ll never guess what?”

Keko laid her shoulder bag on a coffee table.
Deep breath, try a more casual
approach
. ”
Um
, you’ll never guess how much I’m looking forward to dinner. Y’know, see more of the town. By the way, I think I recognized a woman from when we arrived at the airport. Platinum blonde hair, Junior League bullshit.”

Lucian responded without hesitation.

“Pepper Hunsacker. Of
the
Hunsackers. Named after some great-great-grand-someone, Penelope. Hates the name, insists on keeping her sorority moniker.” He grinned. “The Hunsackers are one of the founding families of Catamount Lake, as she’d be glad to tell you. She’s had a thing for Mac since he moved into town.”

“Lucian, that’s enough. Keko doesn’t need the gossip. Keek, you won’t see much of anything if you don’t get your butt in gear.”

Damn. I wish Lorelei hadn’t interrupted him. I do so need the gossip! So, the evil Pepper
person has a thing for MacBride?
“Trust me, I won’t take long.”

Keko practically leapt up the stairs to her gallery bedroom.

After a lightning quick shower, she pulled from her closet a short leather skirt that she knew made her look totally hot, then also chose a pair of skinny leather pants with leather lacing up the sides. Posing in front of the mirror in her red satin boy-cut panties and red sequined, sleeveless tank top, she alternated holding the garments in front of her.

“Skirt. Pants. Skirt. Pants. Skirt might look too flirty, which is like totally inappropriate in front of Lucian and Adam. As well as inconsiderate to Lorelei. I guess it’s pants for the evening. Plus, no pantyhose to worry about.” Try as she might, Keko usually managed to ruin at least one pair of hose every time she dressed to go out. Her best all-time record was four pairs in as many minutes.

She shimmied into the low-riding leather, which barely covered her hipbones, added her thin silver chain belt. She loosed her long hair from the shower cap, brushed it, twisted it on top of her head, then pinned the coil with the dolphin barrette. She selected tendrils to drape artistically over her shoulders and back. Then she posed while standing on her toes.

“Okay, people, that’s as good as it gets.” She made a few quick swipes with eyeliner and makeup brushes, added an application of her favorite ruby red lipstick.

She grabbed her choice of footwear, then flew down the stairs in bare feet.

The wall clock showed a scant nineteen minutes had passed when Keko descended into the great room.

Lucian whistled. “A woman who’s actually on time. Imagine the concept. And wow, that’s some transformation!”

Even Adam stared for a long moment, then nodded, just once.

Keko had topped off the black leather pants and sparkly red top with a vintage, leather bomber jacket—she’d learned that, although the days at September’s end could still reach the upper 60s, even the low 70s, the nights could be surprisingly chilly in Sanctuary’s neck of the woods. Her favorite stiletto-heeled, black suede half boots finished the ensemble, which perfectly set off the wide, flat, red-enameled necklace and matching earrings.

Lorelei finally found her high heel under the bottom edge of a chair, straightened, slipped on the shoe, then straightened up. She gave Keko a serious once-over. “Keek, next to that outfit, I look like a sack of wet laundry. Just think. I’ve been outdone by a demolitions expert. Good job!”