Page 74 of Four Cards Exposed

She wondered what James was up to right now. It was Friday night, and he was probably still buried under mountains of paperwork, but he’d promised he’d come up to see her tomorrow. To talk, he’d said.

When he’d dropped her off, he’d made it clear he could envision some future for the two of them together. It was more than she’d dared hope, and a part of her didn’t want to believe it, but she knew James would keep his word. He would drive up to Sharp’s Cove on Saturday. The question was, would he still be the same man she’d fallen in love with? Or would the cold federal agent have stepped right into place again?

What?

Love?

I’m not in love.

I can’t be.

Two people walked into the bar. Susan steeled herself, moments before Jessy Long flew into her arms.

“Susan! You’re back!”

Slim as the woman was, the force of the hug forced Susan back against the table. Finally, Jessy let her go and took a step back to stare at Susan. They had always been friendly, but their close encounter with death at the hands of Don Lowe had brought them even closer.

“You look tired,” Jessy said.

Never one to mince her words.

That was one of the things Susan loved about the shark scientist.

Susan was tired—though not as tired as she’d been before leaving Sharp’s Cove. At least now she’d had a couple of good nights’ sleep—in James’s arms.

“You look great, Jessy.”

And she did. Jessy was dressed in black, as usual. This time in slim black jeans that fit her like a glove and a soft V-neck black top.

Susan thought of her own clothes. She’d never be as stylish as Jessy but, after weeks of wearing Milena’s clothes, she was finally dressed in her own blue jeans and white shirt, and she couldn’t be happier.

Susan searched in Jessy’s dark eyes, looking for a hint of the fear and trauma that she’d gone through, but couldn’t find anything. If she were honest with herself, Jessy’s quick recovery had made Susan felt weak at times. Jessy’s trauma beat Susan’s own hands-down—not that it was a competition. While Susan had merely been stuffed in a trunk and left for dead, Jessy been tied to a bed by the brother of her dead fiancé, who’d intended to burn her and Darryl to death.

Susan sighed. But maybe that was part of the problem. The time spent in that trunk, slowly suffocating, not knowing what was happening to the person she’d been charged with protecting … that did something to a person.

Jessy looked up at someone behind Susan. With the way her smile widened, Susan didn’t even need to turn her head to know it was Darryl Berner, Jessy’s boyfriend and the town’s Fire Chief. The rest of the Sharp’s Cove Fire Department followed, like ducklings following their mom.

Large ducklings.

Huge ducklings.

Ducklings whose biceps strained against their uniform polo shirts. Susan could appreciate the well-formed male shapes, but the sight of Adrian Walsh and Jack and Alex Miller did nothing for her libido.

Because they’re not James.

Because you’re not in love with them.

There’s that word again.

“Susan,” Darryl boomed. “How are you? It’s good to see you.” As he leaned in for a hug, his warm eyes looked down at Susan’s hands. Susan pushed back on the urge to hide her scars. She knew Darryl felt responsible for those scars. He’d rescued her—his harsh, handsome face the first thing she’d seen when she’d gotten out of the trunk. Then she’d rescued him right back when he’d been honorable enough—or stupid enough—to go back inside the burning house to look for the kidnapper.

Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the heat, still smell her burning flesh and feel the burn on her back and calves as she’d dragged Darryl’s limp body out of the house. It hadn’t mattered to her then that Darryl weighed twice as much as she did—failure hadn’t been an option in her mind, even as her hands started to blister. But she did sometimes wonder if she would have been able to get him all the way onto the lawn—wondered what would have happened if James hadn’t arrived and helped her.

It was difficult to separate James as she knew him now, from James as she’d known him back then. Special Agent James Ramsay, with his perfectly coiffed hair, starched shirts and polished shoes.

Susan shook her head, realizing people were speaking to her.

“Where are Vasquez and Ramsay? Did they come back with you?”