Hold Me. Susan Mallery

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

      KIPLING 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.