ROSLYN It was him. Conway Gentry.
The boy I'd known years ago - the one who'd loved my best friend and
was left shattered by her death - was now a macho adrenaline junkie, an
arrogant womanizing hustler.
There was not a single good reason on this earth to fall for him. But no
one told my heart that.
CONWAY
She didn't seem like my type.
Snobby, boringly mainstream and above all, tied to a part of my past I'd
kill to forget, I should have just had my fun with her and moved on.
Instead I kept coming back. I couldn't help it.
I've known for a long time that if you live fast you crash hard.
But I also know that's nothing compared to what love can do to you.
EDGE
(A Gentry Boys Story)

CHAPTER ONE
CONWAY
There' s an old story. I forget where I heard it and I probably have some
of the details wrong but it haunts me anyway. The ending is not a happy
one.
This story is about a boy and a girl. They grow up together and become
outrageously brilliant and good looking and everyone thinks the sun
shines out of their dazzling asses. It seems like destiny when they fall in
love, skip through the mythological flowers, and swear that they will
hold hands until the end of time.
Then out of nowhere the girl gets bitten by a poisonous snake. Or
maybe she was crushed by a falling tree branch. I forget which.
Anyway, that detail doesn' t matter. What matters is that she' s gone and
the guy can' t seem to think straight without her at his side. So he
wanders around in a fog of bewildered grief; kicking puppies, knocking
over straw bales and generally acting like an asshole until everyone
hates his guts.
But unlike other unhappy legends he' s not about to throw in the towel
and swallow a thimble of green poison, not this guy. He comes up with
a plan. If he can just find his way to the underworld he' ll seize his lost
love and take her back to the land of the living so they can get back to
their flower skipping, hand holding euphoria.
Now this is the part that suspends belief somewhat and makes me think
it' s probably one of those perverse old school fairy tales that was
eventually transformed into something more cartoonish and happy.
The guy finds this magic boat and rows through miles of spider webs
and gnarly bones and rotting decay until he gets to the underworld.
Once he' s there he finds the king or the devil or whatever

the underworld president is called and gets down on his knees, begging
for the girl's return.
The underworld king ignores him at first because the girl's been
sleeping in a brass cage under his bed and he kind of likes keeping her
there. But he must have had a soft side because finally he agrees to
return her to the heartbroken hero.
There's only one condition. The guy needs to climb this long, narrow
stairway all the way to the earth' s surface without glancing backwards.
That last part is really important. If he turns around, even once, all bets
are off and his girlfriend has to go back to her underworld cage.
It sounds like a stupidly simple demand and the guy sets off happily,
girlfriend in tow. Well, it must have been a really long walk or else the
guy was such a dingbat he totally forgot the only rule he had to follow.
He' s only steps away from the surface when for some ungodly reason
he turns around. All he sees is one fleeting glimpse at the beautiful face
of his lost love before she vanishes forever in a puff of smoke.
Next time no one pays attention to the guy' s crying and pleading. I
guess you only get one shot at convincing the king of the underworld.
The poor guy winds up stuck back on earth with no hope of ever being
reunited with the girl he loves.
All because he couldn't follow fucking directions. How's that for a kick
in the ass?
There was no reason for that morbid old tale to be running through my
mind as I watched the sunrise from the hotel's rooftop pool. The view
from up here wasn't anything special, not now. When this place was
built back in the nineteen twenties it was the tallest structure in
downtown Phoenix. Down in the lobby there are still some old photos
in cracked frames that hang crookedly on the walls, depicting the hotel
in its heyday. The city was young back then and the Hotel San Gabriel
boasted the height of luxury for the traveling businessman.
Now the hotel, along with many of the oldest city buildings, had
crumbled under the weight of the decades, overshadowed by all the
newer, shinier, taller versions in their midst. The place hadn't operated

as a real hotel in years and for the moment was owned by a ninety year
old land baron who lives in Pasadena. As long as he keeps receiving a
hefty check every month our landlord doesn't seem to care who the
fuck we are; gamblers, dealers, gang bangers. And we had all kinds
here. In fact the Hotel San Gabriel has become sort of like a halfway
house for the criminally enterprising.
The neglected roof of the old building suited my mood so as the sun
continued its climb I stuck around.
Alone.
An unlit cigarette dangling between my fingers.
Thinking about death and life and the twin curses of loss and time.
Shit. When did I become such a sullen fucker?
I chuckled as I broke my cigarette in half and shoved it in my pocket
until I could find a garbage can. There wasn't anyone around to talk to
this early, although I could hear the traffic starting to pick up on Central
Avenue. The soft chuckle died in my throat as the answer to my own
question flashed through my mind.
Six years ago. That's when.
No, that was the last fucking thing I wanted to think about.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket and usually I would have ignored
it since no one would be calling this early except for money or trouble.
With a sigh I withdrew the phone and ran my thumb over the screen,
squinting at the words in the text.
I was wrong.
The messenger was looking for neither money nor trouble. It was my
brother, Stone.
Tomorrow. Don't forget.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment. Stone wouldn't be
expecting me to be awake now. He was probably just heading out to
begin a busy day of work followed by night classes and figured he' d
drop a quick reminder about tomorrow's party to his wayward brother.
I pressed the green call button before I had a chance to think about it. I
knew Stone was always happy when I called, no matter what was going
on.
"Con." He answered after the first ring, the cheerful tone of his

voice making me feel unworthy. "Didn't really think you'd be up and
about yet."
"Yeah, well. Maybe it's not too late for me to become an early
bird."
There was no need to mention to him that I hadn't quite made it to bed
yet. Actually I couldn't do that now even if I wanted to. Two of Eli's
girls had crashed on my bed last night after he locked them out of his
room so he could get busy with some ditzy blonde butterface he' d
picked up. He probably figured he was doing me a favor by shoving the
girls my way. They were hot and young and clueless, just how I usually
liked them.
Something inside of me was off center these days. I was bored with that
type and after a few minutes I realized they were more interested in
each other anyway. They wouldn't have minded if I'd hung around and
beat off to the sight of them licking each other silly and but my heart
wasn't even in that.
Not a word about any of this was said to my brother as we chatted
lightly for a few more minutes before he said he needed to get on the
road to work. I knew he ended the call regretfully. There was nothing
Stone liked more than hearing from me and I made a guilty mental note
to make more of an effort. We had never quite regained the close bond
we shared as kids but we were trying and I missed him like hell every
day.
Stone had spent four years wrongly imprisoned and I guess he decided
he'd seen enough of the seedy side of life. Since he'd gotten out almost
two years ago he'd gone full citizen. Job. College. Girlfriend. Her name
was Evie and now that he'd given her a ring we were all getting together
this weekend to celebrate their engagement. I was happy for him
because he seemed happy but seriously, next time I turned around I
expected picket fences and fucking minivans to appear.
That wouldn't ever be the case for me. I'd had a chance at the good life
once but it was long gone. She was long gone. There are people who
would say it's too cynical to be so wrecked over the loss of a teenage
love but they're probably the same ones who think first love is a fluke
for poems and pop songs.

With a sigh and a soft curse I hopped off the crumbling ledge I'd been
sitting on. It was time to change scenery before my head started
traveling in a bad direction. Sitting around and thinking never did tend
to do me a whole lot of good.
When I went indoors I found a guy sleeping in the hallway. His eyes
fluttered at the invasion of sunlight and when he yawned he smelled
like a moonshine barrel.
"Gentry," he croaked when he saw me.
I crouched down at his side. I knew him; he was on the bleak side of
thirty and years ago a bad habit had cost him his comfortable suburban
existence. Now he was a petty dealer who rotated in and out of Tent
City Jail.
"Hey," I said mildly and extended a hand. "Need some help?"
He shook his head and gave me a crooked grin. "Nah, just taking a
break," he wheezed and closed his eyes. Seconds later he was snoring.
I shrugged and moved on, my mind still percolating in spite of every
effort to stifle it.
Sometimes I try to fuck the past away and sometimes I try to muscle it
away. Neither one is admirable or totally effective but the latter is less
sleazy. Maybe it was my upstanding brother's mature influence but
lately I've been trying to be slightly less sleazy. That was why I headed
down to the third floor gym instead of returning to my bed to try and
interest the girls in some fun and games.
The gym wasn't much - just some free weights and a bench - but it
would serve its purpose and get a sweat going. The room was empty,
but then again it was not quite seven in the morning and the residents
inhabiting the San Gabriel weren't the briefcase and lunchbox crowd.
No, we were the night owls and the creeps. We were the trouble that the
clean world loses sleep over.
Living here wasn't bad though. Rent was cheap and everyone was keen
on staying underground so they tended to avoid pushing and shoving.
I'd been here for nearly a year and it had been nice, just staying planted
in one spot. I'd been a wanderer for so long and that wears you out after
a while. I had a lot of friends around too; that is when they weren't
serving short bits in the county jail or taking a slightly

longer vacation to State.
Jackson, Kilt, and Eli were the core of my group, the boys I'd learned I
could trust among all the garbage. I wouldn' t say anything cheesy and
untrue like, 'I love them like they're my own brothers,' because that' s
not fucking true. I' d go to the mat for those guys but I didn' t think of
them as brothers. I had enough damn brothers to worry about as it was.
I worked out with the free weights until my arms ached and a sheen of
sweat clung to my body. It helped force away the mind fuck that had
started up there on that roof. I blamed the morning. There was
something about the empty quiet of early morning that had made me
remember. Perhaps that was why I usually avoided being conscious at
this hour.
In a way she' d been like the morning; fresh and hopeful and beautiful.
"Conway, I love you!"
Yes, she' d loved me and I' d loved her.
If someone were determined to shrink my head and extract a reason to
explain why I became this unruly nomad they wouldn' t have to dig too
deeply.
It' s simple.
When I was seventeen I lost the girl I loved more than anything. And
then everything fell apart at once. Erin was dead. Stone went to prison.
My mother told me I was actually the son of a man she hated and then
she gave me the boot.
I couldn' t say how I would have ended up if my cousins hadn' t come
along and scooped me up. One of my biggest regrets was the grief I' d
caused them over the next few years as they tried to pull me towards a
good life while I wrenched out of their grip and pulled the other way.
There was still one thing I could be semi-proud of though. I'd never
cracked and told them the truth about my mother' s confession. They
never would have let me go if they'd known their father was actually
my father too. They would have risked themselves

to yank me from the razor's edge. I couldn't live with that.
Somewhere in a distant part of the old hotel someone shrieked and then
broke out into crazy laughter. I would bet money it was the tweakers,
the burnouts. A colony of them lived on the second floor. Mostly they
didn't bother anyone; they just got high and ran around doing weird shit
like arranging a thousand beer bottle caps in a mosaic pattern in the
decrepit lobby.
The hour was still early and besides the twitching addicts who never
slept, I was probably the only one up and about. Like I said, Hotel San
Gabriel wasn't stocked with the nine to five crowd.
When I was done with the free weights I moved over to the bench and
started lifting rapidly. I was still bothered by the idea of morning. Not
this particular morning. Another one.
I' d watched the dawn with my brother on the day he finally dragged me
to the cemetery where Erin was buried. It was an accident, a car
accident. My girlfriend and my brother had been looking for me when
it happened. They'd been looking for me because I'd gotten the wrong
idea about their friendship. Witnesses said Stone, who was driving, was
drag racing. He was treated to a four year vacation in the Central State
Penitentiary, conveniently located down there in our hometown of
Emblem.
I hadn't gone to Erin's funeral. I hadn't visited her grave until four years
later, when my brother hauled me there. I knew why at the time and
stopped fighting it. Stone was making a desperate bid to force me to
face the past.
And so I did.
I dropped down before her headstone, screamed her name and wept
until I couldn't see. It seemed like only Stone's strong arms kept me
from sinking into the very earth.
It was terrible. It was necessary. It was a moment that would haunt me
forever.
"Don't hurt yourself," said a bemused, gravelly voice and Kilt's broad
face was suddenly looming over me as I pushed the barbell away from
my chest.
I'd loaded it with too much weight and I'd been pumping too hard

as my brain warred over old torments. Now my arms were cramped and
shaking.
Kilt grinned and easily plucked the weight out of my hands to set it on
the uprights. He watched while I sat up, panting and dripping with so
much sweat it probably looked like I' d just gone swimming.
"Thanks," I managed to growl, pulling my damp shirt off to wipe my
face with it.
Kilt shrugged. "No big deal."
His real name wasn't Kilt. It was Brian McCallum. He looked like a
marauding pirate with his wild red beard and thick muscles coiled
beneath a riot of colorful tattoos. Also, I was far from short but Kilt
fucking towered over me. Wherever Kilt went men automatically got
out of his way. I didn't blame them. He looked like the walking wrath of
god.
I moved over to the exercise bike and watched as Kilt loaded the bench
up with more weight than I'd be able to lift if there were two of me.
That was really saying something because I wasn't exactly a
lightweight myself.
"Can't spot you for that," I warned but Kilt just chuckled and slid his
beefy body under the bar.
"No need," he grunted and then started lifting.
I hung around until he'd finished his set, just in case he ran into trouble.
I should have known better. The only trouble Kilt ever ran into was the
kind he made himself. When he was done he set the barbell in place and
casually stood, stretching. The asshole had barely broken a sweat.
"Oh, hey," he said suddenly, reaching for his back pocket. "Ran into
Culver this morning."
"Culver? Where?"
"Scoring a handful of happiness from the junkies on two. He tried to
scamper away but I grabbed him by the neck and gently suggested that
if he has enough green on hand to pay for his habit then he ought to
settle up with my buddy."
Kilt raised a bushy red eyebrow and withdrew a wad of cash. "He got
the hint and swore on his mother's life that he'd find the rest of what

he owes you by Sunday."
I took the money, which I didn't really give shit about because I already
had more than I knew what to do with. Sure I would have gone after
Culver sooner or later but that was more about respect than a need for
cash. A few nights ago I'd creamed his pus-pimpled ass in a street race.
It wasn't much of an event; spontaneous, small stakes, no crowd. I'd
rehabbed a classic GTO over the past six months and it made short
work of Culver's lousy Chevy pickup but I didn't grab him by the throat
when his pockets turned out to be empty. I'd known him for a few years
and he seemed all right; worked as a mechanic a few blocks away and
sometimes got in over his head. Now it made perfect sense that he was
hanging around looking for some cheap crystal. Habits like that made
guys desperate enough to make shitty choices. And betting against me
while driving that rusting hunk of junk was betting against sanity.
Kilt had been there and seemed equally entertained and irritated when I
didn't pound Culver into a greasy spot because he couldn't cough up the
proceeds on site. On the drive home Kilt had grumbled something
about 'going soft as a grandpa's cock' but he let it go when I didn' t
argue.
Maybe it was true. Maybe I was going soft. Maybe I was tired of the
stink of a world that only promised blood, prison and maybe an early
grave.
Kilt elbowed me on his way out the door. It was really more of a gentle
nudge but because Kilt was rock solid it bruised a little.
"How about some breakfast?" he suggested. "Your treat since I chased
down your profits for you."
"Sure," I agreed. "Let me go shower off first."
"You do that," he said, heading toward the stairwell. "You fucking
stink. I'll be waiting across the street at Pancake Palace." "Don't you
need to shower, tough guy?"
He turned around and flashed me a wooly mammoth kind of grin that
managed to be charming. "No need. My shit smells like a fucking rose
garden."
He didn' t wait around to hear any smart remark from

me. Sometimes Kilt reminded me of Creedence, one of the Gentry
triplets who still assumed that they were my cousins and nothing more.
Since elevators were for pussies and the main one was out of order
again anyway, I jogged up the stairs. The stairwell was bleak, dark and
smelled like a public restroom. Last year some poor confused junkie
had pitched headfirst from the fourth floor railing and fell to his death.
Some people swore he haunted the hotel ever since but they weren't the
kind of people anyone with half a brain would take seriously. Right
now, looking up at the dimly lit stacks of stairs I could almost believe
that a ghost really was watching. I shook off the macabre feeling and
quickened my pace.
The sixth floor had seventeen rooms but at the moment my buddies and
I rented them all because we had the cash to burn and because we didn'
t feel like fucking with anyone who might have something to prove.
We'd all taken our lumps and understood each other well enough by
now to make a comfortable space. It wasn't heaven but it was good
enough.
The whole floor was quiet. I passed the small lounge just to the right of
the old elevators where Jackson was sprawled on a couch, taking a nap
beside a bottle of Jim Beam.
A few months back Kilt had done some strong arm favors for the owner
of a local furniture store and in gratitude the man had sent over a set of
three Italian leather couches and a seventy two inch plasma television.
That quality leather was rather wasted on a pack of animals like us who
fucked and smoked all over it but the setup was nice just the same.
I thought of relieving Jackson of his bottle but coffee sounded better
than bourbon at the moment so I just let him be and headed to my room.
I'd almost forgotten about the girls who'd hijacked my bed but there
they were, naked and entwined in the middle of my mattress. The
blonde stirred, opened one eye and smiled at me invitingly as she
opened her long legs. It was a nice view and immediately my dick
started begging me to do something exciting but instead I jumped into
the bathroom, locked the door and took out my frustrations on myself
in a cold shower.

When I was done with that chore and had moved on to soaping up my
chest I thought about all the empty, latex-wrapped fucks I'd ever had.
Every thrust had been hollow and mindless, just satisfaction of a carnal
need.
The girls were both awake now and horny. I tried not to listen to the
noise they were making as I ransacked the dresser for some clean
clothes.
"There you are," one of them purred as she paused in her straddled
position, tossed her long hair over one shoulder and looked me up and
down.
Her friend shifted underneath her and the sight of all that skin and all
the promises it came with was enough to get me hard again.
"Come here, Con," the girl on the bottom said and then moaned as
manicured hands cupped her pert tits.
I paused with my jeans around my hips, considering. I couldn't have
remembered their damn names with a gun to my head. It didn' t matter.
It wouldn't be difficult to get in the middle of that and pass a fun hour or
two. I'd done nastier shit before. Kilt would be down there at Pancake
Palace grumbling through his red beard but I could toss him a bag of
hamburgers later to make up for it.
I zipped up my fly before I could change my mind.
No, I'd been better lately.
I wasn't going to backpedal by diving into another worthless escapade.
Instead I was going to walk across the street and have breakfast with
my friend.
"Sorry," I tersely said, "I've got an appointment to keep. Feel free to use
the room as long as you want."
They looked at me like I was speaking in tongues.
I hastily grabbed shoes, pocketed my wallet and closed the door behind
me. I wasn't worried about them stealing anything because I didn't keep
much around to take. I'd filled safety deposit boxes at two different
banks and excess cash was kept in a fireproof safe that was bolted to the
wall. Besides, I knew my own reputation. Stealing from Conway
Gentry wasn't a risk for the faint of heart.
My stomach grumbled as I jogged down the stairs and out to the

street. The sun was shining like it did three hundred plus days a year in
this part of the world. It all but vanquished the early morning gloom I' d
felt as I sat on the roof and brooded over loss, regret and terrible fairy
tales.
As for the guy in the story, the one who'd braved the underworld to find
his girl only to lose her again because of one careless second?
I thought about it for a minute and then remembered what happened to
him.
He eventually lost his mind and was ripped to pieces by a traveling
pack of warrior women. I hoped for his sake it was quick. He'd sure as
hell suffered enough already.

CHAPTER TWO
ROSLYN
She was young, likely only a year or two older than me, but her eyes
told a difficult story. Her limp dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail
and her clothes looked like they were meant for someone else, someone
shorter and heavier.
Yet she broke into a relieved smile that showed how pretty she could be
and she nodded eagerly as I explained the rules.
"Average stay here is six months but there is no pressure to move on," I
said. "Our goal here at Homestead is to keep families together and
assist them in becoming self sufficient. Overnight guests who are not
on the original family registry are not permitted as we need to respect
the privacy and safety of the other Homestead families. Food
distribution is on Wednesday with supplements available upon request.
Donations are regularly received in the form of clothing, school
supplies and other necessities so obtaining anything you need won't be
a problem. Your unit is furnished with one bedroom and a sleeper
couch with a fully functional kitchen. The daycare facility opens at six
a.m. and closes at nine p.m. for our working parents."
I paused and smiled at the two little girls who clung to their mother's
side like frightened rabbits. Their solemn brown eyes stared back at
me. But when I withdrew a large jar of lollipops I kept underneath my
desk their faces lit up. I raised an eyebrow at their mother in question
and she gave a smiling nod so I offered the jar to the girls. They made
their choices carefully, as if they weren't used to such treats, which they
likely weren't.
In her interview their mother had confessed that the three of them had
been living out of her car for the past three months, ever since her latest
bum of a boyfriend had smacked the youngest girl across the face. To
the woman's credit, she had taken her daughters and moved out within
the hour even though she had nowhere to go and no money to get

there with.
I tried to imagine it, living on the street with two young children. I
couldn't.
Once I put the jar away I slid a key across the table. "You're in unit
forty two," I said cheerfully as I stood. "Let's walk over there now."
The woman, Krista, held the key in her palm. She gazed at it in tearful
awe for a full minute. I waited patiently because I understood.
Whenever I checked in a new resident the reaction was similar. These
were families after all. Families who had fallen on hard times and just
needed a small boost to get them over their personal hurdles.
Homestead was able to house one hundred and twenty seven separate
families. In order to maintain a safe environment all applicants were
screened for criminal backgrounds and drug abuse. For the most part
these were not people who were used to life on the streets. They' d
tumbled into one of those small cracks that sometimes sideline the best
of us.
My father still didn't understand why I chose to work for peanuts at a
non-profit organization. Last year when I returned to the Phoenix area
he assumed I'd accept a generous position at his commercial real estate
office. The thought had never even crossed my mind.
Krista trailed me shyly, hand in hand with her two babies, as we walked
over to their unit. Evening was closing in and other residents were
arriving home. Some of them greeted me by name and a few of the
children regarded the little girls with frank curiosity.
Unit forty two was a one tiny bedroom with a sleeper sofa, a full bath
and a kitchenette. Once we were inside I looked around approvingly at
the neat condition, thanks to the housekeeping staff that had finished a
thorough cleaning only an hour ago.
The little girls held on to their mother as she wandered around the small
apartment. To a lot of people it wouldn't look like much but to this little
family a safe place to sleep, a door to close, and a private bathroom
meant the world.
Krista grabbed me in a sudden hug. "Thank you so much," she said and
I heard the emotion in her voice. "My girls and I are so

grateful."
Her accent was familiar. After four years of college at UNC Chapel
Hill I'd learned to recognize the soft drawl of the Carolinas.
"Here's my card," I told her. "Call me if you need anything. I'll check in
once a week to make sure all is well."
As I shut the door I heard Krista and her daughters break out into happy
laughter. I smiled.
Phoenix had homeless shelters but there was never enough space and
they tended to be harsh places for women with children. Homestead
was not a shelter, not exactly. We provided transitional housing with
access to medical and childcare as well as career counseling. For the
overwhelming majority of our families a few months of gentle
assistance was all they needed to get back on track.
Sure, my job didn't pay much but that didn't mean the rewards weren't
rich. My father couldn't seem to understand that. I'd already learned the
sad uselessness of money when it came to the worst things that could
happen. Money couldn't save the ones we loved from tragedy.
Or bring them back.
My fingers flew to the chain around my neck and I pressed the small
shape just above my breasts. Countless people had commented on it
over the years, wondering out loud why I wore it so often, what it
meant, what it was worth. There were no easy answers to any of those
questions.
I wore it because it was given to me by the best friend I'll ever
have.
I wore it because it reminded me that she'd been real, that she'd lived,
that she could never be forgotten.
I wore it because it was the most valuable thing I owned, but only if
you're speaking in a language more basic than money.
That was all so personal though, too personal to share with most.
Typically I would just shrug at my inquisitor and say the crystal at the
end of my necklace had been a gift from a friend. It wasn't nearly the
whole story but it usually satisfied them.
Mary Agnes Bustamante was waiting by my desk when I

returned. She was my boss and had served as the director of Homestead
for three decades. There were rumors she'd been a nun when she was
young but that was a piece of gossip she wouldn't confirm or deny. I'd
been working for her for nearly a year and had never heard her discuss
personal matters even once.
"New family is all settled into forty two," I told her, "I'll get the
paperwork over to Phyllis before I leave today."
"Good," said Mary Agnes. She had a clipped way of speaking that
made every word sound like a whizzing bullet. "Ninety six will be
vacant next week. Mr. Juarez was promoted from busboy to cook at
that restaurant by the ballpark where you put in a good word for him.
He just signed a lease on an apartment on Central Avenue and will be
moving his family over the weekend. "
"That's terrific," I said, sitting down and pulling out a heavy, tabbed
binder. "You want to go over the waitlisted applicants now?"
"Monday would be better," Mary Agnes said decisively. Her sharp,
black-eyed gaze lingered on me for a moment. Mary Agnes was a
difficult person to categorize. She'd dedicated her life to helping ease
the burdens suffered by others but there was little hint as to what went
on in her head.
"Thank you, Roslyn," she said and the uncharacteristic warmth in her
voice made me look up in surprise. "You work hard. You care about
our families. It hasn't gone unnoticed."
She turned on her flat heel and started to walk away. "Please make sure
unit forty two receives their welcome package," she called without
turning around.
I didn't want to sound smug so I didn't answer back that I'd already
taken care of it. Mary Agnes wasn' t waiting for an answer anyway.
For the rest of the day I worked on completing volumes of obnoxious
paperwork so I could turn it all in to Phyllis, the sixty year old
administrative assistant who was sweet as cake and had lost her right
leg to diabetes complications six months ago.
"Hey girl!" She beamed at me as I approached her desk. Phyllis had a
knack for making it seem like no matter who you were, there was

no one she'd be happier to see.
"Hi, gorgeous." I waved the file folder I was holding. "Sorry to dump
this on you so late but I'm sure the boss won't mind if you wait until
Monday to tie up the loose ends. "
Phyllis reached for the folder with a soft grunt of exertion. "That's all
right, sweetheart. I'll be around for another hour."
"You need a ride? I'd be happy to drive you home."
"No, my grandson, Tyler, will be here once he's done with classes for
the day." She winked at me. "Maybe you ought to stick around and
meet him. About to graduate with his masters in mechanical
engineering, and handsome as his grandpa was. "
I smiled. "I'm sure he is. I have dinner plans with a friend though."
She raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?"
"No." I shook my head, feeling my face redden. "None of that."
Absolutely none of that actually. I' d barely dated since I broke things
off with Caleb last year and moved back to Phoenix.
"Just going out with my roommate," I explained.
"You've told me about her. Emily, right?" "Yup, Emily. She needs
some cheering up so I promised her a wild girls' night out, which
probably means we'll go pick at overpriced salads then grab drinks at
some random bar before heading home to our lonely beds."
Phyllis cackled and told me to have a nice time. I'd already stepped
away from her desk with plans to visit the rest room before departing
for the day when she called me back.
"Roslyn," she said gently, "beautiful souls like yours always find
love."
They were strange words but sometimes Phyllis would blurt out things
like that out of nowhere. Even though it was a cryptic, fortune cookie of
thing to say the sentiment touched me anyway. Since I was a child I'd
been told I was beautiful and although I'd always shrunk away from
compliments I knew they weren't all lying. Besides, I had access to
mirrors and could admit that it didn't hurt to look at my reflection.
Phyllis meant something else though. She was talking about being a

good person, someone worthy of love. That kind of struck a chord
because I hadn't had much luck in the love department to date.
"I hope you're right," I said wryly and blew the kind lady a kiss.
The streets of central Phoenix were clogged with rush hour traffic. I'd
turned the car's air conditioner up full blast but I still felt like I was
being roasted in a slow cooker. Even though we were only in the
middle of March a heat wave had pushed temps into the triple digits. I
hoped Emily wasn't in a rush to go out because I needed some shower
time to clean off this sheen of city sweat.
Emily had once been a casual high school friend. She'd turned into
more than that when she stuck around through scandalous times that
chased me until graduation day with snickers of 'Roe the Ho' until I
couldn't stand my own name.
In the scheme of things though that painful era of gossip and slurs
would mean nothing. It would almost seem worthy of a laugh, if the
laugh wasn't so brittle and raw.
All that goddamn self-conscious agony. I had no idea something far
worse was coming.
A shiver rolled through me as I unlocked my apartment door and
stepped into the air conditioned comfort within. Summer was
technically months away but the heat kept playing tricks on my brain.
Every year when the summer months loomed I became a little more
anxious. Summer had been the season when I'd learned how lives can
shatter in one senseless moment.
Emily wasn't around yet so I peeled my sticky work clothes off en route
to my bedroom and walked straight into the shower. By the time I was
toweling off I could hear that she was now in the kitchen and belting
out a song from the Wicked soundtrack. Emily would be the first to
admit that her voice was only mediocre but she sang with such gleeful
abandon that technique hardly seemed to matter. At any rate she
wouldn't get any judgment from me. I could barely manage to squeak
out a tone deaf version of Jingle Bells at the office holiday party.
I was rummaging through my closet in search of something to wear
when my roommate bounced into my room. Emily never just walked
anywhere; she bounced. Petite and pretty, with glossy black hair

inherited from her Chinese American mother, Emily was also smart
and easygoing, friendly without being intrusive. She was the perfect
roommate.
"Hey Rozzie." "Hey Emmie."
"You still taking me out tonight?" "Of course."
"Fabulous." Emily yawned. "Let me just repackage this mess and I'll be
ready."
"No rush. Where do you want to go?"
Emily had already started bouncing down the hall to her own room. She
bounced back to my doorway, words spilling out of her mouth in a
happy jumble. "Dinner first because I'm so hungry I could eat concrete.
Then I was thinking we could case Maloney' s in search of desperate
suits looking for company but a better offer has come through. Five
minutes ago my friend Tina texted about a party. "
"A party?" I selected a lime green sundress and then rejected it just as
quickly, remembering the last time I wore it. Some creep with long
sideburns had accosted me and slurred that I looked like a slutty
leprechaun. When he got too close and asked if he could touch my pot
of gold I threw a drink on his shirt. "Em, we don' t really do parties
anymore. College is over."
She shook her head. "I don' t mean a keg stand kind of crowd. Tina,
who used to work in the insurance office across the hall from the bank
before she got fired for stealing pens started hooking up with this guy
who lives in a historic downtown hotel that' s been converted to
apartments or something."
"And that's where this party is?"
"Yes. Well, sort of. That building is next to an old restaurant that' s
privately owned by a wealthy ASU alumnus who invented this fancy
kind of furniture polish. His son has plans to renovate the place but
right now it's big and empty and so he's throwing a party in honor of
spring break."
I made a face, picturing roving packs of wobbly coeds. "Spring break?
I thought you said this wasn't a kegger with kids. "

Emily rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, Roslyn. You' re not old. You' re
only twenty-three. It' s not like your college days happened two
decades ago. Look, if it' s lame we' ll move on, okay? Ooh, you should
wear that red dress. No, the other one. Makes your boobs look like
enormous ripe apples."
I did end up wearing the red dress, although I covered much of the boob
effect with a short sleeve cardigan and ignored Emily when she
chastised me.
Emily was bolder. She wore a skin-hugging short black dress and sharp
heels that added three inches to her height. I was glad that her
exuberance seemed genuine. She' d suffered a rough couple of months.
When I reconnected with her after arriving back in town last year she' d
been having an intense affair with a former coworker. Although she'd
always laughed about the casual nature of the relationship, she'd been
devastated when he abruptly broke things off right after the holidays
and moved to Los Angeles. I was glad to see her eager to get out and
have a good time. Good times had been in short supply around here for
months.
We lingered over dinner for two hours, laughing and just enjoying the
freedom of the night. I couldn' t remember the last time I had laughed
so much. Lately life had been about work, books, volunteering, and
visiting my father in his empty, impeccable Scottsdale mini mansion.
I was remembering what it felt like now; to shake my hair loose and let
go just a little. I even returned a few of the appreciative smiles that
came my way from men who watched us from the bar.
Emily argued with me when I insisted on paying but tonight had been
my idea, my treat, so I wouldn't hear of it.
"I'll get you back," she giggled, clutching my arm as we walked to the
parking garage. "Come Sunday morning you can expect to be tempted
by a dozen jelly donuts from Bosa."
"God, that would be heaven."
She shot me a pitying look. "Roslyn, if you think a dose of spongy lard
and sugar is heaven then you really have been out of play for far too
long."

I held up an imaginary glass in a pretend toast. "You speak a stinging
and accurate truth."
"Which you have the power to change any time you like. Half the men
in Maricopa County would lick a bus station toilet if it meant you' d
give them the time of day."
I glanced at my watch. "It's a quarter to ten," I announced and then
pretended to search around us in mock horror. "No takers, how
embarrassing."
"Hush." Emily elbowed me. "Let's go have some fun."
Actually I wasn't looking for the kind of fun Emily hinted at with a
twinkle in her eye. I hadn't engaged in spontaneous hookups since my
teenage days. Throughout college I had been politely attached to the
stoic and dull heir of a tobacco fortune, Caleb Monroe. When I broke
up with him and announced that I was moving to the other side of the
country he hadn't seemed particularly distressed. Then again, neither
was I. I didn't belong in the world of greenery and slow southern
drawls. I belonged here.
We only had to travel about a mile from the restaurant to the location of
the fabled party but the streets were jammed because there was some
sort of comic book event going on at the convention center. That must
have been the reason a man dressed in gold underpants and angel wings
danced across the intersection as we waited at a red light. At least I
hoped that was why.
I squinted out the window as Emily pointed out the Hotel San Gabriel.
I'd heard of this place, had passed it regularly, and even wondered
about it from time to time. It was one of the older buildings downtown
and vaguely I remembered seeing a segment about it on one of those
ghost hunter shows when I was a kid. The exterior had never been
updated or restored and the effect was one of neglect rather than
vintage charm. I wondered what it was like on the inside.
In any case I wouldn' t be finding out the answer tonight because our
destination was next door. A neighboring parking garage was open and
since there were no warning signs about trespassing I hoped no one
would get bent out of shape if I pulled my red Acura inside. Several
dozen other vehicles were parked on the first floor so I figured that a
few

other people had come up with the same idea.
Emily hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol as far as I knew but she was
giddy and giggly just the same, seizing my arm and bumping my hip as
we made our way out to the street. Her spirit was contagious though
and I felt a thrill of anticipation that had been dormant for quite some
time. It was good to get out, even if it was just to some silly party full of
lurching drunks that we escaped from after an hour. God, listen to that
pessimism.
Maybe tonight would go better than I thought. Somehow I'd become a
cynic and I didn't like it. I rarely thought about meeting someone. This
might be the night to change all that.
By the time we stepped through the door to Destry's Restaurant I was
already starting to change my mind. The place itself wasn't too bad,
although the faded paneling on the walls told the story of seediness and
an extinct decorating scheme. But with all the bodies and the smoke
and the noise at first glance it definitely looked more like a frat bash
than a classy private party.
The door was opened by a fat-necked fellow with arms that were nearly
as thick as my torso. Between the hum of the crowd and the noise of the
music blaring from scattered speakers it was pretty loud so Emily
leaned toward the man and stood on tiptoe, whispering in his ear. I
wondered what she was telling him.
The guy wasn't interested in what she had to say, waving us right
through without explanation. Emily raised an eyebrow and smiled as
she pushed me inside. Perhaps whoever was charge here had awarded
automatic entry to anyone who was young and female, regardless of
invitation.
The best way I could describe the crowd inside the dimly lit old
restaurant was uneven. The college demographic was well represented
and I could pick them out with ease. However I also spotted a pack of
surly looking bikers beside their tough women, plus clean cut,
standoffish businessmen and a few rough types that I couldn't neatly
stick into any category. Emily wanted to grab a drink right away so I
allowed her to pull me toward the bar as I checked out what else there
was to see.

No tables were in sight and the floor had been cleared to create
something of a club effect, however the walls were lined with a variety
of couches. Classic rock seemed to be on the music menu as Sunshine
of Your Love immediately transitioned into Hotel California. It was
difficult to estimate the number of guests, however I had to say there
were at least eighty people clustered around the bar in the back.
"Emily!" squealed a voice as a brassy blonde materialized with
smeared lipstick and an unfocused grin. She wiped at her nose with the
back of her hand and then kissed my roommate daintily on the cheek.
"So glad to see you, my darling." Her voice was strange, vaguely
British.
"Tina," said Emily, "I don't think you've ever met my roommate,
Roslyn."
"Good to meet you, Roslyn," Tina said without ever managing to quite
look at me as her wild eyes darted around. I didn't know if she was
intentionally mimicking the cast of Downton Abbey or if she was
suffering from some hallucinogenic side effect, but her accent was
definitely off the mark.
A dark-haired man with a prominent scar on his left cheek appeared at
Tina's back and slung an arm around her waist.
She bobbled and said his name in an irritated voice, "Eli!" as he
brazenly sucked at her neck but then her eyes rolled back and she
melted into his broad chest. Eli apparently wasn't interested in making
friends. He pressed Tina more firmly against him and I felt a blush
creep over my skin as he casually spread his hand over her belly before
reaching underneath her short red skirt. Maybe I gasped or maybe he
just sensed my shock but Eli raised his head and grinned at me lewdly
before hauling his arm candy to a private corner.
"Whoa," Emily said, watching them. Then she nudged me. "See,
Roslyn? That's what fun looks like."
"Temporarily," I agreed, watching the couple make their unsteady way
through the crowd. "Regret will look a little different tomorrow."
Eli and Tina were heading for a door just behind the bar. A tall, good
looking black guy said something to Eli and Eli responded with hoarse
laughter. He waved the guy off and then disappeared behind the

door. Just before it closed I saw him guiding Tina down to her knees
with one hand while the other opened his pants.
"So what do you say to a drink?" Emily said wryly.
I nodded. "Yeah, I could use a coke."
Emily scowled at me but I'd never been much of a drinker even when I
wasn't planning on getting behind the wheel. The bar was open with a
wide selection so it would seem whoever was hosting must have deep
pockets.
"Whose party did you say this was?" I asked, sipping my soda through
a straw as Emily sucked back a Long Island Iced Tea.
She shrugged. "Son of a wealthy businessman. Hell, maybe we even
know him from Sonora Day."
"Doubt it," I said but the idea left me feeling a little unsettled as I
recalled my high school days in the midst of BMWs, plaid skirts and
trust fund babies. I hadn't been born to money; my father had made
some lucky investments at an opportune time. I was originally from a
small town called Emblem, sixty miles southeast of Phoenix. Emblem'
s sole claim to fame was that it housed the state's largest prison. Even
though we'd left when I was in middle school, I'd never learned how to
be totally comfortable among the rich and privileged no matter how
many designer accessories I wore.
Emily ordered a second drink and started telling a story about two
coworkers who'd been caught fucking in the printer room. I'd heard this
one before but Emily was funny and I never minded listening to her
stories more than once.
"And so there was Casper with his pants tangled around his knees, cock
pointed like a gun muzzle when his super juice erupted and hit poor
Kerry in the face while she was frantically trying to cover her bare tits
with a yellow legal pad. Nora said he would have just quietly closed the
door and walked away but she needed to grab the sales report before the
meeting that she was already late for. So she pretended there weren' t
tits and cocks in plain view and calmly approached the printer. "
I laughed at my friend. "I thought you told me last time it happened in
the supply closet."
Emily paused, a finger to her lips. "Did I? Oh well, maybe that

was it and she needed some staples. Anyway, that's not the important
part of the story. The best part happened when Nora stood up in the
conference room to give her power point presentation on the quarterly
sales numbers and noticed that a splatter of Casper's cum had landed on
her black blazer."
I snorted. "What did she do?"
Emily shrugged. "What could she do? She finished her presentation
and then afterwards marched over to Kerry's desk and dropped her
blazer there with a flourish. She said something along the lines of 'Get
your husband's semen dry cleaned please.'"
"Wait, Kerry and Casper are married?"
"Yup, didn't I mention that? I thought I did. Anyway, the next day
management sent out a company-wide email prohibiting workplace
intercourse, which you'd think would be a given but apparently there
was kind of a question mark when the issue came to married couples."
I giggled. "You could write a book about that place."
"Believe me, you don't know the half of it. I've found that people tend
to treat the reception desk as either a confessional booth or an invisible
black hole. Either way, after only three months there I've got dirt on
roughly three quarters of the office. "
"Makes my workday sound terribly tame in comparison."
Emily smiled gently. "I transfer calls and file my nails. You deal with
reality."
"Excuse me, ladies," said a deep voice and suddenly there was the man
who'd briefly spoken to Eli on his way to blow job heaven. His
muscles, gold chains and motley neck tattoos screamed danger but
there was humor in his eyes as he regarded us and as his gaze settled on
Emily I wondered if he'd been listening to our conversation. "Just
wanted to introduce myself and see if you'd like some company.
Name's Danziger Jackson but everyone calls me Jackson."
"Hello," Emily said and I could tell from the way her eyes flashed that
she liked what she saw. "I'm Emily and this is my roommate,
Roslyn."
Jackson glanced at me and I offered a polite nod. I could feel Emily
watching and knew what she was thinking. Whenever we went

out together I always got the lion's share of attention, whether I wanted
it or not. Though Emily was a good friend and had never shown an
ounce of bitterness, sometimes I wondered if it bothered her.
"You know," I said, leaning toward Emily's ear. "My feet are killing
me. Think I' m going to sit down and relax. By myself."
She gave me a worried look. "You all right?"
"Fine. " I wiggled my eyebrows and tilted my head in Jackson's
direction, hoping that she'd get the message.
She did. She gave me a mischievous smile.
Once I'd started picking my way through the crowd I glanced back
once, noting with satisfaction that Emily was already talking a mile a
minute and Jackson was laughing.
Now that I was on my own though I didn't know where to go. As I
squeezed around various bodies a few men checked me out with blunt
interest but the power of my own suggestion had gotten to me. I just
wanted to sit down and exit the fray for a few minutes. Above the din of
a hundred conversations the music was kicked up a notch. I recognized
the powerful opening chords of All Along the Watchtower.
"Shit," I swore, stumbling and spilling my soda when my ankle
suddenly rolled.
The back strap of my left sandal had broken. Luckily a black vinyl
couch was there for me to tumble into. The seat was warm. Someone
else must have occupied it a moment ago. It was darker over here on the
far side of the room, less crowded. No one seemed to have noticed my
clumsy plunge so I silently cursed cheap footwear and flexed my foot.
All those years of dancing in my youth counted for something now and
then. I could be thankful for strong ankles that might have otherwise
meant a nasty sprain. This was just a slight twinge that wouldn't last
longer than a few minutes. Still, losing a shoe was never convenient.
I sank back on the sofa with a sigh. That's when I noticed the seat
beside me was taken. I didn't know when that had happened. I was sure
he hadn't been sitting there when I tripped my way over here.
He stared at me. I stared back, feeling the shock of unexpected
recognition.

Of course he recognized me too. It would have been even stranger if he
hadn't.
"You look different," I said automatically.
The shaggy blonde hair that used to fall into his eyes was clipped close.
It was closer to black now. His jaw was covered with careless stubble,
like it had been at least a few days since he shaved. His t-shirt and old
jeans were unimpressive but I couldn't help but notice that his muscles
were very impressive, as was the colorful tattoo sleeve running the
length of his right arm. There was something altogether harsher and
more dangerous about him. I had to look closely to see the shadow of
the careless, handsome seventeen-year-old boy I remembered.
He'd heard me over all the noise. Something lit up in his blue eyes. It
might have been pain or maybe it was anger. I'd never known him well
enough to recognize the difference in the first place. Six years had
passed since we were face to face.
"You look exactly the same, Roe," he answered in a deep, gruff voice.
Whatever turmoil had been lurking behind his eyes disappeared,
replaced by something else as his gaze traveled hungrily downward,
over my body. I wasn't prepared for that. I was used to being boldly
checked out by men but in light of who I was and who he was and what
we'd lost together, this felt like an insult.
I felt my fists clench as my stomach tightened. I closed my eyes for
longer than a blink and was fleetingly slapped by the hand of grief. I
opened them again and looked at the boy who was now a man.
"Hello, Conway."

CHAPTER THREE
CONWAY
It would have been easy to avoid her.
I' d watched her walk in, drift through the crowd with her friend, pause
at the bar and then wander off when her hyperactive gal pal started
talking to my buddy, Jackson. She hadn't seen me I could have kept it
that way with virtually no effort. I didn't know what the hell made me
suddenly cut through the crowd to take a seat at her side. We'd never
even been friends.
Roe Tory had started out in Emblem. I'd known her since grade school
although there was nothing in particular about her prissy girl manners
that got my attention back then. Her father had struck it rich through
some real estate ventures and she'd moved away to a better zip code
some time in middle school. That hadn't been the last I'd seen of her
though. Roe had remained best friends with an Emblem girl and she'd
visited frequently, right up until the end.
Her best friend had been Erin. My Erin.
"You look exactly the same, Roe," I said and it was mostly true. She'd
always been head-turning pretty tinged with conceited sex appeal. Erin
used to get mad and accuse me of being unfair whenever I dismissed
Roe as a stuck up brat. In the space of a few brief seconds I saw that
Roe was still hot as shit but some of those layers of superior arrogance
appeared to have been shaved away.
Roe fidgeted, swallowed and said my name like the word hurt her.
"Hello, Conway."
I knew girls. I knew women. Lord knows I've been inside enough of
them. I could tell when they were being coy or flirty because the chase
was part of the fun. Roe Tory wasn't really interested in being chased at
the moment, not that I was going to try anyway. In fact I would guess
that she really just wanted to jackknife off that cheap sofa

and run away from me. I reminded her of bad things. I hadn't done her
any favors by saying hello. There was nothing for us to talk about.
"Oh, by the way it' s Roslyn now," she said, a flush spreading on her
cheeks.
"What is?" I asked.
"My name." She fidgeted slightly, pulling on the short hem of her
dress. "I go by Roslyn, not Roe, these days. I haven' t answered to that
nickname since I was a kid."
"I see," I told her, letting my eyes drift down again over the curve of her
tits. I actually didn' t do it on purpose. It' s just that I' d been out of the
game for too long and the sight of nice looking tits in a red dress made
me a little crazy, no matter who they were attached to. I also didn' t get
hard on purpose but my dick always had a way of waking up on its
own.
Roe, or Roslyn or whatever she called herself now cleared her throat
with irritation and primly crossed her long legs at the ankles as she
noticed how I' d been looking her over. Her expression had gone from
confused hurt to condescension but she didn' t fool me a damn bit. She
might have been annoyed about running into me given our history, but
now her pretty brown eyes began roaming over my chest and arms. I
guess she couldn' t help it either. Maybe we' re all at the mercy of our
most basic instincts.
"It' s been a long time," she finally said in a soft voice and tried to
smile. I saw the mirror of my own heartbreak in her smile. "How have
you been?"
"Can't complain," I said lightly, my boner disappearing as a tide of
emotion threatened to surface. What the hell had I been thinking
coming over here? "And you?"
Her wavy auburn hair fell across her face as she stared down at her lap.
"I' m good. I just moved back here last year actually. I went to college
in North Carolina and at first I thought I might stay there. But in the end
I never could make it feel like home."
"North Carolina?" I frowned, remembering something. "I thought you
had your years at Arizona State all planned out."
She flinched, her head snapping up. She was probably wondering

how the hell I'd known that. Then she remembered and her shoulders
slumped slightly. Erin had talked about her best friend all the time,
about their plans to be roommates at ASU. Of course that hadn' t
happened. Erin never even had the chance to graduate from high
school.
"Just didn't work out that way," she mumbled, crossing her arms as if
hugging herself for comfort. I had nothing to say about that so I just
nodded. I knew all about shattered plans. I'd once had plans too.
I swallowed the rest of my beer while Roslyn shifted a few inches
farther away, like she was trying to melt into the leather armrest. When
my bottle was drained I set it on the ground. It seemed like just as good
a place as any.
"Do you know the host?" she asked.
"The what?"
"The guy who apparently owns this place."
I shrugged. "A little. He owes me money."
She glanced around. "Seems like he'd be good for it."
"I'll fucking get it whether he's good for it or not."
Roslyn eyed me. "What do you do anyway?"
"Depends on who I'm doing it to."
She sighed. "You know what I mean. How do you earn a
living?"
I grinned. "Through a variety of diverse and eclectic means." "You
mean illegal."
"You a cop?"
She smiled a little. "No. I work at a shelter."
"For dogs?"
"It's a housing center for families. I help get them settled and search for
better work so they can move out on their own. "
I mulled that over; snooty, over-accessorized Roe toiling away for the
greater good. "That's not the kind of job I would have guessed you'd
have."
"What would your guess have been?"
"Don't know. Maybe wine taster. Wedding planner. Seller of four
thousand dollar handbags to idiots with money to burn."

She bristled. "Well, you never did know me very well, Conway."
"Likewise, Roslyn."
She looked at me with a touch of sadness. Neither one of us had uttered
Erin's name yet. I wondered who would crack first.
I pointed at the crowd. "Your boyfriend in there somewhere?" The
question was rhetorical. I already knew the answer. No man worth his
dick would be okay with leaving a girl like Roe/Roslyn to roam around
this skin and sausage orgy.
"I don't have a boyfriend," she said quietly.
I leaned toward her, close enough to smell her fruity salon shampoo.
"What a happy coincidence. Neither do I."
It was just the kind of bullshit thing I'd say to any random girl, whether
I intended to get busy with her or not. The problem was I was having a
hard time pretending Roslyn was just some random girl.
She blinked and fidgeted. "Good for you."
I didn' t think about it. I just did it. I ran the back of my knuckles along
her bare arm, just a brief brush of flesh against flesh. An electric current
of lust crackled between us and a shiver ran through her.
"It could be good for you too, honey," I told her in a low voice filled
with sex.
I was kidding. Sort of. Somewhere along the way I'd forgotten how to
have an honest conversation with a beautiful woman. At least I knew
when I was being an asshole, not that the fact often changed my
attitude.
Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin with a haughty sneer. All of a
sudden I saw the snotty teenage girl I had once disliked. She'd always
thought her best friend could do a lot better than a sleazy Gentry. I
hadn't even realized the idea still stung.
"Stop it, Conway," she commanded.
I lit a cigarette. "Stop what, sweet tits?"
"Stop acting like we're just two strangers who might flirt, hook up and
then forget each other's names. It's not happening."
"Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't forget your name, Roslyn." She shook
her head, looking miserable. "We can't sit here and banter about
bullshit, pretending like there's no history there."

I got angry. "You think I can ever fucking pretend that?"
"No." She winced. "I didn't mean it like that. Conway, I can't imagine
how horrible it must have been for you to have lost everything the way
you did but that doesn't mean-"
"Fuck this," I grunted, putting the cigarette out on the couch. It left a
hole. I turned back to Roslyn with a scowl.
"If you want to wax poetic about the agonies of youth there's probably a
few suckers around here who will suffer through that noise but I' m not
one of them."
She cocked her head and looked at me curiously. "So what do you
want?"
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, shading my eyes with my palm. "If
you're making an offer, a blow job and another beer would be nice."
Roslyn was silent for so long I figured she must have left. I took my
hand away from my eyes and found her gazing sadly into her lap. She
must have felt me staring because she slowly raised her head.
"This would have broken her heart," she finally said.
I knew who she was talking about, whose name was behind 'her'. I also
understood what she meant. I made her say it anyway.
"What would have broken her heart?"
She stood, shouldering her purse and glaring down with contempt. "To
see what you've turned into. That would have broken her heart,
Conway."
Then she walked away without looking back. It was her way of making
it clear she was done with me.

CHAPTER FOUR
ROSLYN
Emily wasn' t eager to leave the party. Apparently she and the
charming, mysterious Jackson were having a fine time getting to know
one another. When I found them in the increasingly drunken sea of
people they were standing intimately close and exchanging flirty
laughter that from a distance seemed about two steps away from
turning horizontal. I felt guilty about interrupting but a war was
brewing under my skin.
I just needed to get the hell out of here before I felt tempted to go
barreling back in the direction of Conway Gentry for another argument.
Or worse.
My roommate glanced up at my approach and did a double take with a
frown. I' d always envied those people who could wear cool masks of
nonchalance, hiding the mayhem underneath. My own face didn' t have
such talents.
"What's wrong?" Emily mouthed but I shook my head and tried to
smile even though my lips felt strangely numb. The skin on the back of
my neck prickled. I was tempted to glance over my shoulder to see if
Conway's brooding eyes were watching but I didn't want to give him
the satisfaction of knowing that he'd rattled me to the bone.
"You're limping," Jackson noticed.
"You are!" Emily exclaimed. "Wait, where's your other shoe?"
I kicked off my remaining shoe and bent down to retrieve it. That
would have to be the end of this particular pair because I'd left the
broken one on the other side of the room. No way was I threading back
through the crowd and risking another encounter with Conway.
"Casualty of war," I said darkly. I glanced around for a garbage can and
when I didn't find one I stuffed the lone shoe in my purse. My arm still
tingled from the memory of Conway's brief touch, how it had stirred
feelings of both desire and revulsion. I didn't particularly want to

dwell on either one.
Emily was looking at me and I could tell she was weighing the
situation. She'd clearly been having a good time and since tonight had
been planned with the intent to get Emily's mind off her chicken shit ex,
I was scolding myself on the inside for being The Drag.
Everyone knows who The Drag is; that one friend who manages to find
a reason to be grim in the midst of everyone's euphoria, the kind of
person who won't dive into a tub of champagne because it's sticky or
refuses to ride the carnival Ferris wheel because the line looks too long.
Standing in the middle of a cool party in all my shoeless sad sack glory,
I was the walking incarnation of The Drag.
"You know what? It's fine. I'm fine. Think I'll go get a drink," I said
brightly but that only made Emily's frown line dig deeper.
She nodded and turned to Jackson. "We should really get going," she
said and I winced over the regret in her voice.
Jackson stared down at her for a second, then leaned in and whispered
something in her ear that I couldn' t hear. However I could guess at the
meaning since Emily's face reddened and she bit her lip.
"Another night," she said and strained up on her toes to kiss him briefly
on the lips.
"And that will be a hell of a night," said Jackson with a rueful grin,
"when it happens."
Then he handed her his phone, indicating that she ought to add her
number. Once Emily had obliged she handed back the phone with
reluctance. I felt like a voyeur, watching their fingers touch as they
stared at each other.
"It was nice meeting you," I said politely once Emily took my arm and
started steering me toward the door.
"Yeah, it's mutual," said Jackson with a shrug but his eyes were still on
my roommate and I figured there was a high likelihood he didn' t even
remember my name.
Emily waited until we were outside before she broke into giggles and
swooned against my shoulder so hard we almost toppled off the curb
together.
"My god, he's hot," Emily sighed. "I was almost tempted to toss

away my principles and follow him anywhere he wanted to take me. "
"Well, I' m glad you found a friend," I said, trying to steer her back to
the middle of the sidewalk.
Emily pushed her black hair behind her ears and slowed her pace. "I
wonder if I'll ever hear from him again. What's wrong with you
anyway?"
I didn't want to talk about Conway. "Who says there's something wrong
with me?"
"I do. You have the look of a trapped rabbit when something's
bothering you."
"Must be indigestion from all that salad I ate at dinner."
"No, that's not it. And what really happened to your shoe? Did someone
steal it?"
"Seriously? No."
"Well, I remember a story a few years back about a man who would
steal shoes right off women's feet in public places." I managed a laugh.
"What?"
"It's true," she insisted. "Dozens of incidents were reported. When the
authorities finally caught up to him they found over eight hundred
ladies' shoes piled in his living room like a pyramid."
"Em," I said with a straight face, "I swear no one committed a strong
arm robbery against my wedge sandal. The strap broke and I left it
behind when I was trying to get away. "
"Okay, I understand now. Wait, who were you trying to get away
from?" Emily glanced over her shoulder in case my presumed stalker
was on our heels.
"It's not a big deal. I probably imagined him."
We'd entered the cave of the parking garage. The click of Emily's heels
echoed in the darkness with an eerie horror movie quality. I felt around
in my purse for my keys and pressed the unlock button.
Emily hopped into the passenger seat and I immediately set the lock
and started the engine. I'd never liked dark places, quiet places, places
that echoed and were surrounded by gray walls. But my jittery nerves
weren't only due to the fact that we were two females alone in a city
parking garage after dark. I'd been shaken up in another way, a way

that was much harder to explain.
We were approaching the exit when suddenly I gasped and slammed on
the brakes.
"What?" Emily cried, clutching the door handle and looking around
fearfully.
The shadow, shaped like a man, had emerged from the left. I couldn't
see the face. However, in the briefest of flashes I thought I'd recognized
the broad shoulders. I'd been staring at them earlier tonight. But a split
second later the car had lurched to a halt and as I got a better look I
realized there was nothing there, nothing at all.
"Roslyn?" questioned Emily.
I took my foot off the brake and slowly pulled out of the garage. "I
thought I saw a coyote, that's all."
"A coyote in downtown Phoenix?" "Unlikely, I know. I was just
startled."
"Since when are you afraid of things like coyotes anyway? You've told
me before how much you loved seeing them all the time when you were
young and lived in that little town. "
"Emblem," I whispered.
"Yeah, Emblem. Hey, that reminds me, do you remember Alex
Dinkleman?" "No."
"From high school. He used to snap bra straps and once licked the
length of the gymnasium on a dare."
"Oh." Nothing about Alex Dinkleman rang a bell.
"Anyway, his older brother was arrested for some kind of mortgage
scam last year and now he's serving his time down there at the prison in
your old hometown."
"You don't say." My mind's eye flashed back to the behemoth state
prison complex. Vast and encircled with barbed wire, it was an ugly
landmark to man's terrible possibilities. It was funny; when I was a kid
I' d scarcely noticed the prison. It had just blended into the scenery of
life. But these days when I drove into town I couldn't stop staring at it.
I wanted to drive right now, not just in stilted city traffic, but on the
open road. I wanted to just get on the nearest highway and keep driving

until I found something worth stopping for. Maybe west would be the
way to go, toward Los Angeles. It would be nice to watch the sun rise
from a Pacific beach. Instead of jumping on the freeway I navigated the
city streets back to our apartment. Along the way we passed
Homestead. I wondered how Krista and her babies were faring on their
first night.
Even though the drive only lasted a few minutes, Emily was already
dozing off when I pulled up to our apartment building. It was one of
those restored midcentury buildings that brought quaint charm to an
area that was being slowly revitalized by young professionals looking
to be closer to downtown.
Tonight a few people were hanging out on their balconies, enjoying a
quiet evening. The faint echoes of jazz music reached my ears as I
opened the door.
"Did you leave a candle burning?" Emily yawned as she threw her
purse on the sofa and flicked on a light. "No, it's the essential oil
diffuser." "Smells like Christmas candy." "Peppermint. With a drop of
orange."
Since I was far too keyed up to consider sleep I started mixing up a loaf
of banana bread. Emily sat at the vintage black and white dinette and
kept me company while cheerfully chewing through half a bag of sour
cream and onion potato chips.
"You still haven't come clean," she accused me as I placed the loaf in
the center rack of the oven.
I closed the oven door and set the timer. "You want to lick the
bowl?"
"Don't be absurd, of course I do, but don't change the subject."
"Remind me what the subject is."
Emily tapped her fingernails on the table. "It's whatever got you so
spooked that you abandoned your shoe in your haste to get away from
it."
I thought about Conway, about the lazy smile he'd given me and the fire
that flashed in his eyes as he looked me over. Funny, but I couldn't
remember a single conversation we'd ever had before. We

must have talked to each other at some point when we were kids. Even
after I moved away I would frequently visit Erin and whenever I did
Conway was always around. Yet somehow it seemed like we'd never
faced each other directly until tonight.
Emily was still waiting for an answer. I ran a sponge under the tap and
started wiping down the counter, carefully keeping my voice even.
"Just an old memory, that's all. Sometimes they surface when you least
expect them to."
Emily tilted her head and I thought she was going to keep asking
questions but then she changed her mind and folded over the chip bag
before standing.
"Roe," she said softly, a rare use of my old nickname. "If you ever want
to talk about anything, I' m here for you."
For some reason my eyes welled with tears. I knew Emily wasn't just
speaking empty words. But seeing a piece of the past right there in the
flesh, glaring at me balefully and making sexually charged comments
had been confusing in a way I didn't have words to explain. Maybe I'd
be able to deal with it tomorrow, once I was able to get past the way my
body had lit up when he touched me. I swear I could still feel it, even
now.
"Thanks, Em," I whispered, and kept my eyes glued to the digital oven
timer until I heard her shuffle down the hall to her bedroom.
She'd never met Conway but she would have known the name if I'd
mentioned it. I'd told her all about them; Erin and the Gentry brothers.
Conway had been Erin' s longtime boyfriend. However it was his
brother, Stone, who' d been driving the car when a fatal moment stole
Erin from all of us. I'd never been friendly with the Gentry brothers, not
even when we were kids. There was something about their family, a
dangerous undercurrent of violence and shitty luck that seemed to
follow them through the generations. Those two had started going
through trouble and girls long before they should have known much
about either one. But they'd lived next door to my best friend and she'd
been crazy about the younger brother, Conway, for years until he grew
into some common sense and fell for her in return. I'd seen them
together often

enough to erase any doubt that they were truly in love. I even had a
grudging kind of respect for Conway. No matter how reckless he and
his hell-raising brother were, the way he treated Erin redeemed him a
lot, at least in my eyes.
I could still remember the way her eyes shone whenever his name
passed her lips, the way she would clasp her hands together and hold
them close to her chest as if her heart was bursting.
And I remembered him too, how he would open his arms for her and
rest his chin atop her head. Given my own history of romantic
misfortunes I was far from an expert but I knew there was nothing fake
about what Erin and Conway had together.
Maybe that was why it was so hard to merge the pictures in my memory
with the brooding oversexed hood who'd shown up tonight.
For a few minutes I just stood in the middle of the empty kitchen,
listening to the sawing sound of Emily brushing her teeth. Eventually I
heard the creak of Emily's bed and the fizzy noise of her sound
machine.
This apartment building was mostly full of over-educated twenty
somethings determined to prove how non-conformist they were
beneath their expensive clothes. There was this guy on the first floor -
Frank, I think his name was - who climbed up to the roof at least twice
a week and belted out sad jazz on his saxophone. He must have had a
bad night because he'd just started playing and the sound echoing
through the walls was even more mournful than usual. I'd never met
him but Emily had. She said he was an accountant.
The banana bread was still baking so I wandered into my bedroom.
Every piece of furniture was a rehabbed item from a downtown
consignment store, a far cry from the designer décor of my father's
house. I ran my hand over an antique oak dresser that I'd stripped and
varnished. The top drawer tended to stick but fell out completely if
pulled too far so I handled it carefully. The object I was looking for was
right in front anyway.
I lifted the beautiful wooden keepsake box out and thought about the
girl who'd owned it. Her father had given it to me, right before he'd
moved out of state with his remaining daughters. I'd tried to talk him
out

of giving it to me, insisting that such a personal treasure should be kept
for Erin' s younger sisters but the man shook his head and pressed it
into my hands anyway.
"You were a sister to her too, Roe," he'd said and then he kissed me on
the forehead like he had probably done for his lost child many times in
her young life before she was taken from him.
The box itself was a beauty; hand carved and passed down from Erin' s
grandmother if I recalled correctly. An elaborate cross was etched into
the center of the lid and even though the Rielo family had never been
religious to my knowledge, the box seemed like such a cherished relic
that I felt almost reverent whenever I touched it.
Long ago I'd filled the box with all the physical memories I had of Erin.
Pictures, childhood notes, wrinkled movie theater stubs, other small
bits and pieces that would once have been discarded as trash but now
were rare, cherished links to a beloved friend. In the corner was a
carefully folded piece of paper. I held the compact square in my hand
and closed my fingers around it. I didn't need to read it because I
remembered everything it said. I didn't even know why I'd kept it so
carefully preserved, other than the fact that it was the most honest letter
I' d ever received. No one had to confirm its truth for me. The writer
had known things he couldn't possibly have known unless Erin had told
him. And if some of it was true, then I trusted that all of it was. He had
no reason to lie, not to me anyway. I suppose I kept the letter because
Erin would have wanted me to know that he'd been her friend, that for
all the terrible things that were said about the Gentrys then and now,
things weren't what they seemed.
Maybe few things in this world were ever what they seemed.
Erin' s two little sisters had kept in touch via email and social media.
Penny was going to college in Texas and Katie, sweet little Katie,
would be in high school next year. Whenever I looked at her Facebook
profile I was always struck by her resemblance to her older sister. Same
cloud of dark hair, same innocent smile.
Whenever I came home from college I would find the time to make the
sad drive down to Emblem to visit the grave of my best friend, never
empty handed, always carrying some trinket or treasure that I'd come

across in a store and bought because I knew she would have loved it.
Yet it was only today that I realized since I'd moved back I'd only
visited once. I wasn't sure what I believed about death, if some part of
the soul lingered in this physical realm, but whenever I knelt in the
grass at Erin's stone monument and listened to the wind I felt
comforted.
The last time I'd driven down to Emblem, right after Thanksgiving, I' d
left a piece of rose quartz, tying it up in a velvet pouch before setting it
gently on her stone. There was never anyone around who could tell me
what happened to all the things I'd placed over the years. Crosses,
crystals, an angel figurine. They were always gone the next time I
returned. I didn't believe they'd been spirited away to some kind of
ethereal, otherworldly place where Erin was but I hoped they hadn't
just been thrown away. I hoped they somehow found their way into the
life of someone who might smile over them.
Last autumn as I'd walked out of the cemetery gates I was struck anew
by the unfairness of it all. I used to think that we'd been left behind, all
of us who loved her. But she was still there in a way, still in Emblem.
She'd never had the opportunity to leave. Meanwhile those of us she'd
loved had moved on.
Erin' s family.
Me.
Conway Gentry and his brother, Stone.
We'd fled, we'd scattered, one way or another and for our own reasons.
We'd left that dusty town to its ghosts and run when we could.
As I closed the wooden box I again remembered the look in Conway's
eyes, the haunted defiance that flashed and disappeared.
And I wondered.
In a way, maybe some of us were still running.

CHAPTER FIVE
CONWAY
This last name of mine comes with a history. It' s possible every small
town American enclave has its own myths and legends to choke on but
'Gentry' always had its own definition.
I forget the specifics of the story but some time in the grim Depression
era a gaggle of my forefathers staggered out of the prairie dustbowl and
plopped down in Emblem, a little Arizona desert town with a small
Main Street, a large prison, and not much else.
Small towns have long memories and even if you've never been guilty
of a crime, sharing a name with those who have can be enough of a
condemnation.
For example, if your great grandfather once shot a local shopkeeper
during a drunken rage spree, people remember.
If you have a distant uncle who bludgeoned a young farm worker to
death over a poker game, people remember.
If there's some fifty-year-old rumor about incest between first cousins,
people remember that too, even if it was never true.
My brother and I were born in better circumstances than most of our
family, thanks to our father, Elijah Gentry. Years would pass before I
would discover that there was some truth behind the gossip that we
were not his sons. My mother had blurted out the whole sordid story
one drunken night. It just so happened that I was the only one there at
the time to hear it.
Through all her gasping tears and foul curses, she told me that Stone
and I were the sons of Elijah's cousins; two dangerous, troubled
brothers. They'd lived in The Dirt, which is what town kids called the
sporadic, often ramshackle dwellings scattered beyond outer Emblem.
Stone was the son of Chrome Gentry, a ladies man and consummate
con artist, while I was the son of Benton, the most brutal son of a bitch
ever to walk the desert. By now they were both dead so at

least there were no Daddy Dearest reunions to worry about.
That didn't change anything though. Nothing could change history;
nothing could change who you were.
Stone had been told the truth after his release from prison almost two
years ago. His older half brother, Declan, or Deck, as he was always
known, was the unofficial Gentry patriarch now. Honestly, if I had to
pick a man I'd like to live up to, it would be Deck Gentry.
As for me, I had some half brothers of my own but they were still in the
dark about who I really was. Stone had tried to argue with me but I
wanted it that way. Stone was faithful. I knew he wouldn't say a word.
Cord, Creed and Chase were triplets who had suffered through a rough
childhood and eventually worked their way up to the happy lives of
family men. They were good guys, all three of them. If they' d known I
was their brother they would have made it their collective mission to
turn me into a good guy too. I couldn't let them gamble their necks and
waste their time like that.
"Hey!" called Cordero Gentry with a genuine smile as I stepped into the
festive backyard. He greeted me with a fist bump and I felt myself
smiling back as I responded in kind. Cord was a tattoo artist and even
his knuckles were decorated with ink.
"You're early," he said.
I checked my watch and noticed that yes, I was nearly half an hour
early. I couldn't blame Cord for his surprise. I didn't have a habit of
showing up early for family gatherings. But since Stone got out of
prison I'd at least been making an effort to put in an appearance.
"Thought maybe you could use some help setting up," I said even
though the idea had just occurred to me.
Cord glanced around his backyard, which had been festooned with a
cornucopia of pink and black decorations. Originally Stone and Evie
hadn' t been planning on having an engagement party. The rest of the
family had other ideas.
"Well, Saylor and the girls had it all pretty well taken care of before I
even woke up this morning," he admitted.
A burst of childish laughter came from inside the house and a second
later Cord's three daughters came running outside. Yipping and

jumping all over their heels was a chubby black and tan puppy.
The youngest girl, Cadence, collided with her father's legs and smiled
up at him.
"Can we fill the kiddie pool for Angus The Dog?" she asked in a
sweetly wheedling voice.
The dog's tail whipped back and forth and his long pink tongue hung
halfway out of his mouth. He jumped back with a squealing growl
when he noticed me but then started wagging his tail again when I bent
down and offered my palm.
Cord picked the little girl up. "What did your mom say?"
"She said to ask you," piped up one of the twins. Cami had long brown
hair and clear green eyes, a mini-me of her mother, Saylor. She put her
hands on her hips and stared her father down like she was daring him to
say no.
"I don't know, girls," Cord said, looking around the impeccably
decorated yard. "That'll make quite a mess and I've got to help your
mother get the food out here for the party. "
"Please, Daddy," begged the blonde twin, Cassie. She was usually
quieter, more gentle than her forthright sister. Cord took one look at her
dimpled smile and I could see the heart of a devoted father melting
right then and there. Cord would give his girls the entire goddamn
galaxy if he could.
"I could help them," I offered. "We'll stay over there in the corner
underneath the mesquite tree." I winked at the girls to show them I was
on their side. "I promise to do everything in my power to keep the mess
to a minimum. "
"Yes!" shouted Cami. "See? You don't need to worry about messes.
Conway will take care of everything. "
The girl grabbed my hand and started dragging me over to the side of
the house where a blue plastic pool was propped up against the fence.
"All right! " shouted Cord. "But you need to make sure the dog gets
dried off and don't let him in the house with wet paws or your mother
will freak."
"Adults can be so dramatic," Cami confided as she fell into step beside
me while I carried the pool to a corner.

"Sometimes," I agreed, choosing not to point out to her that I was
actually an adult myself.
Even though I wasn't the most sentimental bastard I had to admit that
there was nothing cuter than kids playing with a puppy. As I rinsed off
the inside of the pool with the garden hose and started filling it with
water the kids rallied around, splashing and squealing with excitement.
It kind of made me feel like a summer Santa Claus. The pool was only
about eight inches tall so it didn't take long to fill and the minute there
was enough water in there Cami picked up the squirming puppy and
deposited him inside his backyard bathtub.
Angus The Dog stood there for a second with a look of canine
bafflement. Then with a hop of glee he started bouncing around like a
giant, wet, furry jellybean. The girls crouched around the sides of the
pool and competed for the dog's attention.
"Having fun?" teased a female voice and an elbow poked playfully into
my side.
I found myself peering down at Evie Dupont, my future sister-in-law.
She laughed at the wild scene and clapped her hands together before
giving me a warm hug.
"How are you, Con? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."
"Been keeping myself busy," I said, loosely wrapping an arm around
her for a chaste, brotherly squeeze. "So let's see the ring."
Evie looked down lovingly and then held out her delicate left hand. I
didn't know jack shit about rings but it looked appropriately sparkly. I
offered my congratulations again, even though I'd already said them to
her over the phone.
Evie squinted up at me and I felt myself fidgeting under her appraisal
so I looked away, scanning the yard.
"Where's our boy?" I asked.
"Oh, Stone will be back here any second. Deck and Jenny were pulling
up so he hung back to greet them but when I caught a glimpse of what
was going on here I just couldn't wait to get a better look."
The girls simultaneously noticed Evie and tackled her with hugs and
dripping arms. Evie took it in stride while I watched her with
admiration. The thing about my brother's girl is that she was sweetly

pretty but not the kind of gorgeous that would stand out in a sea of
faces. That always changed the second she opened her mouth and
started talking. When that happened she was freaking luminous. Stone
was a hell of a lucky guy. At least he knew it.
By the time the girls were finished showering Evie with greetings her
pale blue dress was covered in splotches of water and even a few spots
of dirt. She didn't seem to mind. She looked me over thoughtfully.
"Don' t even tell me you came to the hottest party of the year without a
date," she said.
"No date. Looks like I' ll be in the bachelor' s corner with Angus
The Dog."
"Hmm. So what's the deal, Con? No women in your life?" "I have
plenty of women in my life."
"I meant the kind you're willing to keep company with for more than
two hours."
I tried to glare. "You can be painfully nosy, Evie."
She snorted. "Get used to it. I plan to play the part of nagging
sister-in-law to perfection."
Just then Saylor, Cord's wife, came out of the house, her arms loaded
with a giant fruit tray. She took in the sight of the kids and the dog and
the spreading puddles of water that were quickly turning to mud and
her mouth fell right open. I couldn't really blame her. In spite of my
best efforts we'd managed to turn this corner of the yard into a soggy
disaster. Saylor set the tray down on a nearby table and put her hands
on her hips. Automatically I felt myself cringing like I was in grade
school and about to be sent to detention.
Saylor just shook her head and laughed though.
Evie bounded right over to her, squealing, "Thank you my precious
angel, THANK YOU for the party! "
About two seconds later there were people everywhere, as if the gates
of Disneyland had just opened. Well, that was probably an
exaggeration. Crowds didn't usually bug me, but then again I wasn't
usually making an effort to be on my best behavior so I didn't often
worry about who was around. I saw a few people I didn't know and

assumed they were friends of either Evie or Stone. Then I saw Creed
and Chase accompanied by their wives and boisterous children, most of
whom spotted the dog in the pool and made a beeline for us.
"Conway! " called Saylor as she arranged food trays on a long table.
"Do me a huge favor and make sure none of the kids manage to climb
into the pool, okay?"
"Sure," I shouted back even though I understood a promise like that
was probably as feasible as holding a cup of sand in my palm for an
hour.
Around me kids of all sizes jockeyed for positions around the little
plastic pool while the puppy leapt to and fro in ecstatic glory over so
much attention. Cord's twins were the oldest and tried to maintain some
order but gave up when two of their cousins stuck their heads in the
water and then popped up to spit sprinkler-style at the other kids.
"Knock it off," I said in my best imitation of a parental voice. I was
cracking up on the inside though. I remembered doing the same thing
with Stone when we were that age.
One of the boys who had been spitting, Chase's son, peered up at me
with defiant blue eyes.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"You know who he is, Derek," said Cami in a withering voice. Derek
gave me a grin that seemed rather devilish for a six year old. "Are you
him?" he asked.
"Who?"
"The bad Gentry."
I hunkered down to his level and looked him in the eye.
"Maybe," I whispered in an ominous voice.
This kid was awesome though. He just laughed.
Somehow there was a pink baby doll floating around in the pool. Angus
The Dog decided it must be his new toy and started chewing away on
its arm. A tiny red-haired girl didn' t agree. She started wailing.
"My baby! " she sobbed.
"Kellan! " shouted one of the older girls. "Why' d you throw her
doll in?"

Kellan, one of Chase's other boys, stood up and blinked at me with four
year old boldness. "I didn't do nothin'!" "Angus The Dog, don't eat it!"
"My baby! " howled the red-haired girl again, futilely reaching out with
her dimpled little hands.
"Hold on, kid." I gently pulled the girl away from the edge because she
was reaching so far over I was afraid she would fall in.
Angus The Dog had released the doll. The thing floated on the far side
of the pool and I thought I could scoop it out easily. I was wrong. The
instant I had my hand around a rubbery arm the dog let out a playful
growl and chomped down on a plastic leg, yanking it away with a
surprisingly strong shake of his head. It was enough to cost me my
balance and send me toppling over. I didn't get completely immersed
but my shirt suffered a pretty good soaking. At least I managed to pull
the doll away from the dog in the process.
"Here you go," I said, handing it over to the little girl. The kid looked
like her mom, Deck's wife. I tried to remember her name.
"Thank you," she said, only it kind of sounded like 'Dank you'. She
gazed at me with grateful eyes as she clutched her baby doll and then
scampered away. Isabella. That was her name.
I gave up trying to brush the water off my shirt and whipped it over my
head so I could wring it out.
"All right, kids," I grumbled, "How about we find some fun elsewhere
for a little while? I think Uncle Conway's had enough of the pool for
now."
Derek looked at me curiously. "But you're not really our uncle, are
you?"
"Figure of speech," I stammered, wondering it was really a
subconscious slip of the tongue. Aside from Deck's little girl, all the
kids surrounding the pool were actually my nieces and nephews. They
just didn't know it. But then again, neither did their fathers.
Cami spoke up with an air of self-importance. "Conway is our dad' s
cousin. Just like we are all cousins."
"That's right," I said and hoped that was the end of the family ties
discussion. I assessed the condition of the pool, which had grown

astonishingly muddy in a very short period of time. With one arm I
lifted the jittery Angus The Dog and set him on the ground. "Why don'
t one of you kids run inside and grab a towel to dry him off?"
Both Cami and Cassie sprinted for the back door while the other
children drifted over to a toy-filled sandbox in the opposite corner.
While I'd been busy playing babysitter and pet entertainer the party had
officially started. Some of the guests I was blood related to, some I
vaguely recognized as being in Evie and Stone's social circle and some
I'd never seen before.
A pair of pretty young women wearing expensive jewelry sipped
drinks and smiled at me flirtatiously. I gave them a polite nod and that'
s all. Not that they weren't hot. Under the right circumstances I would
tear that shit up. But if I wanted to bone away I knew where to find
plenty of bargains. This was my brother's engagement party.
All of a sudden there he was. Stone and I locked eyes and for a jarring
moment I felt like I'd shot backwards in time to another day, nearly two
years ago. It had been here, in this very backyard, when my brother and
I first set eyes on each other after four long years of being estranged. I
didn't like to think about those years much and I was guessing he didn't
either. I'd never visited Stone in prison, never answered his letters. That
might make me sound like the worst kind of bastard but I had reasons
that made sense to me at the time. I thought he had betrayed me. By the
time I found out otherwise things were different. I was different. I
figured the best favor I could do for my brother, my best friend, was to
stay away so he didn't get sucked into the grim, violent vortex that my
life had become.
I should have known the end could never be that simple, not between
two brothers who had once been everything to each other. I should have
realized that Stone wouldn't let me go so easily, no matter how hard I
pushed him away.
Stone's face broke into a wide grin and several long strides later he was
standing right in front of me. Impulsively I grabbed him in a hug and he
flinched with shock for a second. After all I was a well known badass
these days, not the happy hugger type. Then with a short laugh my
brother hugged me back.

He stepped back and clapped a hand on my shoulder, scrutinizing me.
"What's up, little brother? Are times so tough you're running out of
wardrobe options?"
"Huh?" I glanced down and realized I'd forgotten to put my shirt back
on. "Damn."
Stone was amused. "Did you arrive in that condition or were you
subject to a strip search?"
What the hell had I done with my damn shirt anyway? I remembered
squeezing the water out of it and then I might have flung it onto a tree
branch yet when I looked over at the area where I 'd been managing the
aquatics I didn' t see anything that looked like abandoned clothing.
"Give me a break," I grumbled, "I was doing a good deed."
Stone jerked his head in the direction of the two women who had been
eyeing me a moment earlier. "I see a few of the ladies are enjoying your
sacrifice."
"Yeah, I saw them. Who are they anyway?"
"Friends of Evie' s." He raised an eyebrow. "Want me to introduce
you?"
I shifted uneasily. Stone was well aware of my scandalous history with
women and he was trying to show me that he trusted I would be a
gentleman. The problem was I knew how this could end up and a dirty
fuck with some classy stranger sounded way too appealing. Stone
might trust me but I didn't completely trust myself.
For some reason Roslyn's face flashed across my mind. An age old
hunger stirred inside of me. Ever since that awkward encounter last
night I'd been going back and forth between trying forget I'd ever seen
her to wishing I hadn't acted like such a prick.
"Better not," I finally told my brother and he looked at me curiously.
Luckily I was saved from the task of explaining anything because the
Gentry twins, Cami and Cassie, were back.
"Mommy said to give you these," said Cami, handing me a folded
towel while her sister quietly offered a clean shirt.
"Thanks," I said.

Cami nodded. "She put your disgusting, wet shirt in the wash." Then
she beamed. "Hi, Stone!"
"We were just looking at Evie's ring!" exclaimed Cassie, bouncing on
her toes. "Did you get down on one knee when you proposed? Was she
surprised?"
"Did she say yes right away?" Cami demanded to know.
"Of course she did," said Cassie, with an indignant frown. "She did,
didn't she?"
"She did," confirmed Stone, smiling down at the two girls. Then he
adopted a serious look and dropped theatrically to one knee, shifting to
a solemn tone. "And I told her she had just made me the happiest man
on earth. "
"Wow," breathed Cassie. "I hope someday a man says something just
like that to me."
"Gross," Cami groaned, rolling her eyes at such sentimental hogwash. I
laughed. That little girl was a trip.
"You shut up," Cassie snapped at her sister. "You think I don't see you
making out with that Justin Bieber poster on your closet door every
chance you get?"
Cami's face reddened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. You even say his name in your sleep."
"Liar! "
"Bieber lover! "
The girls seemed on the verge of coming to blows and I wouldn't know
what to do if that happened so I was glad when their father appeared
and told them to help bring some of the food out.
Stone stood back up and whistled. "A few more years and Cordero's
going to have his hands full with those two."
I pulled the shirt over my head. It was a simple dark blue polo that must
belong to the man of the house. "I wouldn't worry about Cord's girls. I'd
worry more about any poor, lovesick boy who dares to ring the
doorbell."
Chase found us a few seconds later. He had his youngest son, a
strapping blonde toddler, by the hand, however the boy kept trying to
shake free of his father's grip and escape. Chase managed to corral the

boy while regaling us with tales from the front lines of an American
high school. He was a dedicated teacher, a loving husband and father
and altogether pretty high on the list of my favorite people. Eventually
his pretty wife, Stephanie, came by to say hello and scoop up the baby.
"Does he need to be changed?" she asked her husband.
"Nah, he's fine." Chase said.
Stephanie lifted the boy and sniffed, making a face. "Survey says
otherwise."
"Want me to take care of it?"
"I got him. Can you see what the other rug rats are up to though? It
looks like they've dug up part of Cord's irrigation system."
Chase gave us a wry wave as he set out to distract his other offspring
from vandalizing his brother's property. He also gave his wife a quick
kiss on the cheek before she carried the toddler away. She smiled at
him. Somewhere deep inside my chest, in a place that I didn' t
acknowledge very often, a dull pang surfaced and then faded. I realized
I envied them, all these happy couples.
"You okay, man?" Stone asked me. I wondered what kind of
expression had crossed my face because my brother was looking at me
somewhat worriedly. Even after all this time, after all the years we' d
spent apart, after all the ways we'd changed from the boys we had been,
he still knew me better than anyone.
"Absolutely," I told him and then nodded at the approaching figure.
"By the way, here comes your bride."
Evie bounced right into Stone's arms and I squashed the brief surge of
jealousy. Every one of these men deserved their incredible women. I
was alone because I'd made sure of it. Besides, it had been so long since
I was in any kind of relationship I probably didn't have it in me
anymore.
None of this would ever be said out loud, not even to Stone.
Instead of brooding and reminiscing, I made an effort to be gracious
and cheerful as I wandered through the crowd, pausing to chat with
people I knew and then politely greeting those I didn't. Saylor and Cord
had outdone themselves with the party preparations and the atmosphere
was full of boisterous fun and celebration. When Creed' s

wife, Truly, stood on the picnic table to give a rousing,
southern-accented tribute to the happy couple I raised my cup and
drank to honor them along with everyone else.
The sun was beginning to set when Deck Gentry found me. "You
avoiding me, hero?"
I bumped knuckles with him and chuckled. "Not lately."
He stared at me and then grinned.
We had something of a checkered past, Deck and me. After everything
had gone to shit in Emblem my own mother had tossed me out like
spoiled meat. I was seventeen and full of bitter fury yet Deck and Jenny
had taken me into their home and tried to steer me toward a normal life.
I'd thanked them for their efforts by getting into a hundred different
kinds of trouble and then storming out. Even though Deck had long
since forgiven me I still knew I had a lot of making up to do.
"What's with the hero jab, though?" I asked.
Deck clucked his tongue, still grinning. "My daughter seems to think
you saved her precious baby from the jaws of death."
"Ah, yes. Well, from the jaws of a puppy at any rate."
"That still makes you a hero in the eyes of a little girl. And since the
little girl has me wrapped around her pinky finger, I guess that makes
you my hero too." He started whistling that old song, Wind Beneath My
Wings so I knew he was messing with me.
I let him bust my chops for another few minutes but when he casually
tried to switch topics to the people we knew in common I clammed up.
Deck had once been a force to be reckoned with and in a big way he
still was but he'd long ago opted out of the wild life.
Still, I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get a feel for how
much trouble I was invested in these days. That wasn't his problem and
anyway aside from street racing and numbers rackets I'd been laying
low lately. I'd seen too many boys sent away for double digit years for
the crime of dealing in more hardcore stuff. I'd suffered through a few
jail visits myself and that was enough to make me realize I didn't want
to make it a permanent lifestyle.
It wasn't quite enough to make me go legit though.
Deck knew when to back off and when he realized he wasn't going

to get anywhere on the subject tonight he stopped trying and made me
promise to stick my head into his tattoo shop soon and say hello. "By
the way," he said, "you talk to Creed at all tonight?" Actually I'd barely
talked to Creed in years. There was nothing specific that had ever gone
down between us but Creedence Gentry was a pillar of stoic honor and
I sensed that he still didn't quite trust me after all the crap I'd pulled, all
the trouble I'd gotten into. The Gentrys all had committed their fair
share of trouble in their youth but they were solid, law abiding guys
now. They had a lot to protect. I understood. I wanted to protect them
too. So I never pushed Creed, who might have felt like he needed to
offer me much more than a cool nod at family gatherings if he knew the
truth, if he knew that we were actually brothers.
"We haven't run into each other," I said carefully. It was getting late at
this point for the family oriented crowd and people were starting to
leave. Stone and Evie were busy hugging their guests goodbye while
Deck scanned the yard, wondering aloud where his wife had gone.
"You looking for Jen?" Saylor called. "Izzy was getting kind of tired so
I told Jen she could lay her down on one of the girls' beds." She pointed
at me. "As for you Conway, don't you dare try to escape without saying
goodbye."
"Well," said Deck, "I better go hunt down my girls. Make no mistake
though, I will remember your promise and I'll be expecting a
visit."
"You got it," I said.
Now that the party was winding down I decided to make myself useful
and help clean up.
"You don't have to do that," Cord said when he spotted me piling paper
plates into a black garbage bag.
"I don't mind," I said and tied up the top of the bag. "Well, in that case
how about helping me move that bitch of a cast iron table back to the
patio?"
I helped move the table. I helped fold up the chairs. Cord's girls started
untying all the balloons and batting them across the yard. I

figured they'd been waiting all day for the chance to do that. Someone
must have decided to keep Angus The Dog indoors for the last few
hours but now he came bounding outside like a hairy cannon ball.
All the friends and coworkers had departed at this point and only
Gentrys remained. I saw Creed and Truly getting ready to take off with
their two kids and thought about going over to say hello but figured that
might end up being nothing more than an awkward moment.
When I felt the hand on my arm I knew who it belonged to even before
I turned around. I faced my brother as he cleared his throat and seemed
altogether shy.
"I haven't formally asked, Conway," he said, "but I figured it went
without saying that I want you to be my best man. So will you?"
He blurted all this out with uncharacteristic rapidity, like he'd been
nervous about bringing it up. Somehow that made me sad, that he
would second guess asking me. There was never a chance in hell I was
going to say no.
"Stonewall," I said seriously. "I'd be honored." He smiled. "Yeah?"
I smiled back. "Yeah. But I may have some explaining to do to Evie
because I'm gonna throw you one wild bachelor party."
"Thanks, man," he said solemnly and for the second time in one night I
hugged my brother tight.

CHAPTER SIX
ROSLYN
I said I wasn' t in the mood to go out but Emily wouldn' t take no for an
answer.
Apparently she' d been texting back and forth with the charismatic
Jackson all week. They' d made plans to meet up at a downtown bar.
Believing I needed a gentle nudge back into the social world, Emily
had ideas that she could somehow turn the occasion into a group date.
Meanwhile, all I wanted after a long but satisfying week of work was to
lounge around in my gym shorts, spoon raw cookie dough into my
mouth and enjoy a succession of the corny eighties teen movies that I'
ve been collecting since I was a teenager.
In fact I was weighing the merits of The Breakfast Club versus Pretty In
Pink when Emily started tapping her foot and launching a battery of
friend guilt.
"Come on, Roslyn, I barely even know this guy. You need to be there
for backup."
I picked up Say Anything. I' ve always had a thing for John Cusack. "If
you think you really need backup then maybe you should reconsider
your plans."
Emily mulled that over. "Okay, so my fears may have been somewhat
overstated but I still want you to come. "
"Em," I sighed, "I can' t tag along as the proverbial third wheel. I
already feel guilty about cutting your night short last weekend. "
She raised an eyebrow and gave me a sly grin. "Jackson has friends."
"I' m sure he does."
"So if one of his friends met one of my friends then everyone has a
chance at an enjoyable evening."
I glanced down at the movies in my hand. They were nice,

comfortable favorites and I would have a nice, comfortable time
watching them before I wandered off to bed to guiltily pleasure myself
with my nice, comfortable vibrator.
Even so, I had to admit there were all kinds of possibilities in the world
that I would never run into on my living room couch. Putting myself
out there wasn't as easy as eating junk food in my underwear and
bemoaning the fact that real life doesn't wrap up as neatly as a Brat
Pack film. But at this point it had been so long since I've even glimpsed
a happy ending that wasn't in a book, in a movie or battery operated,
that I was willing to consider alternatives.
"You're thinking about it!" Emily marveled. "I can tell." I was. After a
year of living in quiet celibacy, it turned out I still had hormones after
all.
The movies got tossed to the sofa. "Give me twenty minutes," I said
and then bolted to my bedroom before I could talk myself out of it.
Unfortunately I'd been shirking my laundry duties lately so there wasn't
much to choose from. Plus about six months ago in a fit of irritation I'd
donated a pile of my more glamorous clothes to Goodwill. Emily
would have happily parted with anything from her closet but she was so
petite I figured it would be a waste of time to even look.
In the end I said "The hell with it," out loud and chose a pair of decent
denim shorts with a loose-fitting blue and white sleeveless top, taking a
few extra minutes to curl my long, auburn hair. When I paused at the
mirror I figured I wouldn't win any fashion awards but it was good
enough to go for drinks.
We were returning to the same neighborhood we'd been to last week for
the party. Emily texted busily while giving me instructions to park in
the same garage because our destination - a bar on the ground floor of
an insurance building - was right across the street.
As I pulled the car into the identical spot I'd chosen a week earlier I
couldn't help but think of Conway Gentry. He'd been on my mind a lot
this week. Too much. It wasn't that I wanted to see him again. There' d
been something altogether disturbing about our last interaction. But
every time I remembered the brief, seductive touch of

his hand I got the chills.
I pushed him out of my head. There was not a single good reason to get
caught up in thoughts of Conway right now. Phoenix was full of
people. What were the odds of having a second chance encounter with
a guy I hadn' t managed to run into even once in the last six years?
Emily was hanging on my arm as we walked down the quiet city street.
"Just want to let you know I'm still all about the girl code."
"The what?"
"The code of honor among gal pals that explicitly states thou shalt not
ditch a friend for dick. I wouldn't do that to you."
I knew she was being serious so I tried not to laugh. "You worry about
me too much, Em."
"I' m not worried. But we should have a secret signal, like clap your
hands six times or something and I'll get the hint that you want to
take off."
"That sounds very subtle."
"Well, think of something else then. That way if Jackson's friend turns
out to be a douchebag you don't have to suffer for my sake."
I stopped walking. "Wait, Jackson's actually bringing a friend?
For me?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "I told you that."
"I thought it was hypothetical. Never mind. It's fine. I can be fairly
talkative when I have enough of a reason. I ' m sure The Friend and I
will be able to find common ground somehow."
Hogan's was your ordinary everyday bar with drinks, dim lighting and
country music. The entrance was actually all the way around the back
of the building and it seemed like it was once a storage area. It had that
closed off warehouse feeling but the place was busy and everyone in
the crowd seemed to be minding their own business.
"Do you see him?" I asked Emily.
She craned her neck. "No."
"Text him."
"In a minute. I don't want to seem too eager." We couldn't really hang
out in the doorway blocking the entrance so I pulled Emily off to the
left. When I saw the eager look on her face

as she examined every man in sight I realized she must really like this
Jackson guy. I sent a silent prayer to the gods of Planet Romance that
he wasn' t the kind of callous asshole who would make plans and then
blow a girl off.
Jackson must have been right behind us the whole time because
suddenly he had an arm around Emily's waist. She let out an adolescent
squeal before flinging her arms around his neck with such gusto you
would have thought they were newlyweds.
Jackson still had his arm around my roommate's waist when he turned
to me.
Emily gestured with a giggle. "You remember Roslyn." "Hello,
Roslyn." "Hello, Jackson."
He started to lead Emily away with a jerk of his head. "We're back
here."
Beyond the noise of the bar there was a little alcove, easy to miss at first
glance. The space only had room for two tables. One was occupied by a
pair of middle-aged couples who were busily sucking back every pint
of beer they could get their hands on.
There was only one person at the other table.
What are the odds?
I ' d asked myself that question only moments earlier. What were the
odds that in a city full of people I 'd run into the same man for the
second time in two weeks? A man I hadn' t seen in years.
A man who had managed to both repulse and fascinate me in the span
of our last ten minute conversation.
A man who looked briefly shocked by the sight of me before he
composed himself, curled his lip in a sexy sneer and casually downed a
shot, choosing to say nothing as he waited for his friend's introduction.
"Con, meet Emily," Jackson said, squeezing her shoulder, maybe so his
friend would know who he was staking a claim on. "And this is her
roommate, Roslyn."
Conway carefully placed his shot glass upside down on the table and
looked me over with an amused grin. "I think we've met

somewhere, Roslyn."
I met his gaze without flinching. If he could play this cool then so could
I.
"Have we? I can' t say I remember you," I said calmly and took a
seat.
Emily was all smiles as Jackson pulled a chair out for her. She nudged
me under the table and I knew it was because she was pleased. She was
figuring I' d sat down so quickly because I was panting over the sight of
Conway. Objectively I had to admit he was definitely something worth
looking at. He was all muscle and smoldering alpha appeal. Of course,
Emily didn't know what I knew. Jackson had only introduced him as
'Con' and since I ' d never mentioned anything to her about running into
him at last week's party, she wouldn't connect the dots that Jackson's
buddy was the infamous Conway Gentry.
I did notice that Jackson was eyeing his friend. In the silent language
between pals, Conway must have let him know that all was well
because Jackson relaxed and called a waitress over, ordering a round of
beers for the table.
As soon as the waitress walked away, Jackson said, "Hell, where' d my
manners go? Forgot to even ask you ladies what your poison is."
"It's okay. I happen to love beer," I said, watching Conway as he
watched me. I couldn't tell what sort of thoughts crystalized behind
those blue eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Emily shot me a quizzical look. She knew very well that I wasn't a beer
drinker. In fact aside from a sip of wine now and then I barely drank at
all. The belchy taste and strong smell of beer didn't tempt me much.
"I would have guessed you as a champagne and caviar kind of girl,
Roslyn," said Conway and I tensed over the tone of his voice. He was
mocking me.
"Stick around and maybe you'll get lucky enough to find out what kind
of girl I really am, Con," I shot back, even as I wondered where the false
bravado had come from.
Conway's eyebrows went skyward. I ' d surprised him.
Good, I thought with satisfaction. I ' d be damned if I ' d let him

think he could fit me into the neat little box of his choosing. Not that I
had any intention of letting him get anywhere, but neither was I going
to storm off like the uptight brat he seemed to take me for.
I could do this. I could sit across from Conway Gentry and drink beer
and coolly banter back at him every time he dished it out. I could do it
for Emily, who had decided I must be fine after all. I was glad to see
how she and Jackson sat close together and by the time the waitress
brought our round over the two of them seemed to be having a West
Side Story type of moment where everyone else disappeared and the
world contained just the two of them.
Something brushed my knee underneath the table. It startled me so bad
I yelped and jumped out of my seat, knocked into the table and spilled
two of the beer glasses.
"Shit," I swore, grabbing for the farthest glass a second too late. A tidal
wave splashed right into Conway's lap. He probably could have gotten
out of the way but he just stayed put and watched the beer flood toward
him. He didn't even shift his stupid chair to the side.
"S-sorry," I stammered and started looking around for something to use
for cleanup. I remembered I had a pack of tissues in my purse and I
started digging around for them.
"Relax," he said mildly as he righted the glass and snapped his fingers
at a waitress. For some weird reason he still hadn't moved an inch.
Maybe he liked the feel of beer puddled in his crotch.
I found the pack of tissues but one waitress was already mopping off
the table while another waitress presented Conway with a stack of bar
towels. The two of them fussed and flirted and pushed their D-cup
endowments right in front of his face. I shoved my tissues back in my
purse, darkly wondering if those overeager girls would end up brawling
for the right to sponge Conway off with their tongues.
Jackson and Emily briefly emerged from their canoodling to notice that
something was amiss. Jackson laughed. "You jacked up already, man?
Might be a record for you."
"Nah," Conway said as he shooed the zealous waitresses away and
half-heartedly soaked up the beer with bar towels. I didn't know why he
bothered at this point. His jeans were plainly drenched. He grinned at

his friend. "You know I' m a clumsy fucker." "It was my fault," I
admitted. "I jumped." "You what?" Emily asked. "I jumped."
"Oh. Why?"
"Something touched me." "What touched you?"
"Nothing. I don't know. Maybe it was my imagination."
I knew damn well it wasn't. It had felt like fingers reaching out to stroke
my left knee. Fingers tended to be attached to someone.
Since Jackson was all the way on the other side of the table and plainly
occupied, there could only be one culprit.
He was now folding wet towels with a studied air of innocence.
Meanwhile, Emily was looking at me funny. "Did something touch you
or not?"
"Never mind," I said. "It was probably just my purse strap."
"Your purse is hanging on your chair," Jackson pointed out.
"Maybe it was snake," Conway suggested.
All at once Emily was in a panic. "A snake! " she squeaked. "In here?"
She shifted even closer to Jackson so he could protect her from
imaginary reptiles that frequented downtown city bars.
"Sure," Conway shrugged. "This is Arizona after all. I was here a few
weeks back and saw a six foot diamondback rattler slithering out of the
urinal in the men's room."
Emily gasped while Jackson cleared his throat and threw his friend a
very clear 'Cut the shit' glare.
Conway blew him a kiss.
I found that I was stifling a laugh.
Maybe it was because of the absurdity of finding myself here, across
the table from a ghost of days past.
Or maybe it was because I'd caught a glimpse of the carefree boy my
best friend had loved and I grudgingly realized I could end up liking
him a little.
Conway cleared his throat rather loudly and my eyes darted up to his
face. Somehow in the course of my internal dialogue I'd started

staring right at his denim-covered, beer-soaked crotch. It was
completely unintentional.
Or perhaps it wasn' t.
I wasn't sure anymore.
However, I was sure that Conway was finding the entire episode wildly
entertaining. I was also sure that when he stared at me that way my
cheeks grew hot and a flutter of desire coursed through my belly.
Someone turned the volume of the music higher.
The two couples at the next table broke into raucous laughter, joined
hands and started singing along to The Gambler.
Jackson and Emily returned to the important business of drooling all
over each other.
Conway said something but I didn't hear him.
"What?" I shouted.
He leaned closer, close enough for me to smell the heady mix of soap,
smoke and alcohol that radiated from his body.
"I said it was loud in here." His breath was right against my ear, hot and
sensual.
"A little," I agreed and grabbed one of the beers.
Conway waited while I swallowed great gulping mouthfuls of beer. I
found that the more I drank the less I hated the taste. Plus the more I
drank the easier it was to ignore the way Conway was sitting there with
his arms crossed, studying me with that maddening half smile.
When the song ended the two neighboring couples clapped their hands
and loudly called for another round. Jackson leaned over and said
something to Conway, who glanced at me and nodded.
Emily was drunk even though I could swear I hadn't seen her take more
than two sips and we'd been here for less than twenty minutes. She was
practically falling out of her chair. Infatuation can do weird things to
people. I tried to keep up as she talked excitedly.
"Remember that hotel thing I told you about?"
"Huh?"
"The hotel. San Gabriel. It' s right across the street. You said you'd
heard of it."
"Oh."

"They live there!"
"Who?"
"Jackson and his friend, um,..." "Con."
"Yeah, him. So they live there and Jackson wants us to come hang out
for a while."
"Where?" My head was spinning. From one glass of beer. Downright
pathetic. I'd always been a lightweight when it came to alcohol.
Emily hissed with exasperation. "The hotel, idiot. Jackson says he and
his friends have an entire floor to themselves and it's really nice."
"Well, that's good."
Emily squeezed my arm. "So you're up for it?"
I looked at her. Just when I opened my mouth to inquire about what
exactly I was agreeing to be 'up for', Conway pulled his chair back and
stood.
Had he been this tall six years ago? This muscular, this built, this
frighteningly imposing? I couldn't remember.
A one hundred dollar bill materialized in his fingers and he tossed it
down on the table.
"Let's get out of here," he said, extending his hand to me in some kind
of pseudo-chivalrous gesture.
I stood up and reluctantly accepted his hand. "And then what?"
His fingers closed around mine. His smile was a challenge. "Whatever
you want."
It was crazy. It would have been crazy even if we were two perfect
strangers. I'd never played the moral police but hopping into bed with
random partners just wasn't my thing. Plus when you considered who
Conway was and the context of how we'd known each other, the idea of
following him home added a heaping spoonful of extra syrupy crazy.
"Maybe I just want to watch television," I said, which was stupid but
also my way of saying 'I'm not fucking you' without actually saying 'I'm
not fucking you'.

Conway took the bizarre declaration in stride. "We have a really nice
high definition screen," he said politely. "And there' s a standing policy
of ladies' choice when it comes to the programming. "
Jackson and Emily were halfway toward the door but I was still
hesitating. I was beginning to wish I' d stayed at home with a bowl of
popcorn and vintage teen angst.
Conway sighed and reached over to smooth a strand of long hair out of
my face. "No pressure, Roslyn. I swear. Just come hang out for an hour
or two. There' s nothing to be nervous about. After all, we were friends
once upon a time, weren't we?" No, we weren't. Not really.
But somehow he seemed earnest and sincere. Already I was starting to
doubt my earlier conclusion that Conway Gentry was just a raunchy
jerk with a bad attitude. I still didn't have any intention of taking my
clothes off for him but I also trusted that he wouldn't do anything
creepy. Anyway I was a little too wobbly at the moment to get behind
the wheel.
"All right," I agreed, "just for a little while." Conway's hand rested on
the small of my back as we made our way out of the bar. I relaxed once
we were outside. It was a short walk to the Hotel San Gabriel where he
lived and being at his side felt rather comfortable.
After all, although we'd never exactly been friends we'd once been.
something.

CHAPTER SEVEN
CONWAY
She thought I was a dick. I hadn' t given her any reason to think
otherwise but somehow the idea bothered me. Jackson hadn't said
much about the friend his date was bringing along to the bar, but he'd
promised all up and down that she was hot as city asphalt in July. He'd
seen her last week at the party where he met his new girl, Emily.
The same party I'd run into Roe.
Sorry, the party where I'd run into Roslyn, formerly known as Roe. I
hadn' t put two and two together because that party was crammed full
of hot girls.
And what were the odds Emily's friend would be Roslyn Tory?
Apparently someone up there in the sky had a wild sense of humor
because I was just sitting in my chair nursing a drink and waiting for
something to entertain me when she showed up. Jackson had
immediately slung his arm around the cute black-haired girl he' d been
talking to all week.
Roslyn and I just stared at each other. I glimpsed the flicker in her eyes
and for a second I figured she'd turn on her heel and walk her uptight
ass out of there. She didn't, proving I didn't know as much as I thought
I knew. It was weird seeing her, just like it was weird running into her
last time. We knew each other and yet we didn't know each other at all.
We never had.
Strangely enough, I was glad when she lifted her chin in defiance and
sat down. I was even more glad when she agreed to come back to the
hotel. Sure, she'd tossed me one of those looks that said, 'you're not
getting any of this' but I'd seen such looks before and conquered them
with ease.
Now as we walked side by side while trailing Jackson and Emily, who
were already sucking face and handling each other's asses, I cast a

sidelong glance at Roslyn. She was studying the dark sidewalk,
walking slowly, her arms crossed over her stomach like that pose alone
was enough to keep her prim and proper.
Why her?
Why indeed.
I hadn't gotten any skin in a while and it wasn't for lack of options. I
thought about my brother's engagement party and how I'd been envious
of what the men in my family had. It seemed like backsliding in a way,
to give in tonight and set my dirty sights on someone who'd known me
when I was better than this, back when I was in love with the girl next
door.
"What did you say?" Roslyn asked curiously.
"I didn't say anything."
"Oh." She bent her head once more. "I thought you did."
I lied. I'd mumbled two words under my breath, not meaning for her to
hear them. Roslyn was sexy and classy and she didn't like me all that
much. Somehow the combination was irresistible no matter who she
was or how she knew me. I could have it all backwards though. Maybe
I wanted her because she reminded me of a time when the world was
still pretty and hopeful. I'd finally muttered 'Fuck it' because I wasn't
going to dwell on why or how I wanted her. I was just going to make it
happen.
She was startled when I touched her arm but then she relaxed and
allowed me to take her hand. We followed Jackson and Emily into the
lobby where the tweakers had collected a squad of shopping carts and
were dutifully taking them apart while arguing about how they were
going to reassemble them in order to make them more aerodynamic.
Roslyn dropped my hand and stared at the tweakers as they crawled
around on the floor clutching their shopping cart wheels. Jackson
pressed the button on the elevator while Emily hung on to him.
Normally I avoided the elevator because it got stuck at least twice a
week but I wanted to get Roslyn upstairs before she had a chance to
think too carefully about whether she ought to be here.
"They're harmless," I told her and gently nudged her toward the
elevator when it opened.

"I know," she said. "I've seen the type before. What are they
on?"
"Meth, most likely," I said while Jackson made out with her roommate
about four inches behind us as the elevator rose to the sixth floor. I let
out a breath of relief when it stopped without incident. It amused my
buddies to no end that I was rather claustrophobic. Getting stuck inside
an elevator would drive me pants-on-the-head batshit in about ten
minutes.
I was glad that nobody had decided to throw a party tonight. In fact the
sixth floor was pretty quiet as we entered the lounge just beyond the
elevators. Kilt was snoring on one of the couches and Eli was half
awake on another one. He looked up and gave a brief nod then returned
to his whisky sipping as he channel surfed.
A small dilemma arose. My pants were still soaked with the beer
Roslyn had accidentally spilled back at the bar. I hadn't yet closed in on
the part of the night where clothes were an inconvenience, but the
feeling of swamp ass was a little distracting so I really wanted to
change. Emily and Jackson had already departed in favor of a more
private place where they could get to know each other better. If I left
Roslyn out here she might get spooked and take off. Yet I saw she'd
returned to her arm-crossed pose and I knew if I tried to get her to come
to my room right now the whole evening would be no dice. I had good
instincts about shit like that.
"Hey," I said and she looked up. "I'm just going to disappear for a quick
minute and change out of these wet pants."
"Sure," she nodded. "I really am sorry about that."
"Not a big deal. You can grab a drink out of that fridge in the corner.
The boys won't hassle you if they know you're with me so just hang out
here while I take a trip down to my room, okay?"
She squinted down the dim hallway. "Your room is down there?"
"Yup. Third door on the right. You're welcome to come if you'd like-"
but she was already shaking her head vigorously.
Yeah, she wasn't into it yet. She would be.
I changed hurriedly. Even though I'd promised Roslyn the boys
wouldn't give her a hard time I couldn't be too sure of that. Eli seemed

out of it and if Kilt woke up and saw a pair of sweet tits right in front of
him he might get some ideas and accidentally scare her away.
Roslyn was standing right where I left her, arms still crossed, looking
stunning and uncertain. She actually smiled when she saw me heading
her way and I returned the smile. But she did pause when I sank down
on an empty couch and patted the place beside me.
"Have a seat," I said. The only light in the room came from a dim
corner lamp but it was enough.
"There?" she asked skeptically.
"Where else?" Ordinarily I would have tossed out a line about how we
could probably find a mattress that was more comfortable but I knew
that wouldn't work on her.
"Come on," I urged, reaching for her hand and letting my eyes linger on
the perfect shape of her legs, right up the line to the tight V encased in
snug denim shorts.
When I finally got around to glancing at her face again she wasn't
smiling anymore. She looked a little pissed, like she knew exactly what
pictures were running through my head and she'd be damned if she'd
indulge them.
Well, I liked a small challenge now and then. I hadn't had one in a long
time. And I' d known when I invited her here tonight that this wouldn't
be the easiest task in the world.
I took my hat off, pasted my most authentic expression on my face and
looked her right in the eye.
"Please," I said, reaching for her once again, "come sit with me,
Roslyn."
Sometimes just saying a girl's name was enough to melt the first layer
of resistance. I could see something change inside of her as she
regarded me. She was still wary, but her eyes skimmed over my
muscled arms and across my chest, just like she'd done earlier tonight.
She may not like the idea of wanting me but she wanted me just the
same. It wouldn't take long for me to get her to admit it.
Kilt let out a mighty snore from his armchair ten feet away. Eli had
switched to a replay of tonight's baseball game while he kept working
on his bottle. Jackson and Emily hadn't reappeared so I figured

we'd seen the last of them for the night.
When Roslyn primly sat on the edge of the sofa I gave her a few
seconds to settle in before casually curling one arm around behind her.
She didn't lean into me but she didn't glare or shove me away either.
That was a good sign.
"You like baseball?" I asked casually. My fingers were itching to light
a cigarette but that might interfere with the mood I was trying to set.
Besides, I was trying to cut back on the cancer sticks.
"Yes," she said, staring straight ahead at the screen but settling in just a
notch. "My father kept a luxury suite at Chase Field for years."
"Luxury suite," I said, nodding like I was impressed. "Sounds pretty
fancy."
She looked at me with pursed lips, probably trying to decide if I was
bullshitting her or not. I gave her a smile and a nod to let her know I
was interested in every word that came out of her pretty mouth even
though I could really give half a fuck about her dad's luxury suite.
"I guess," she shrugged. "I mean yeah, it was nice. Great view, great
food. My dad always ended up giving most of the tickets to his
employees but at least once every few weeks I got to visit the park with
him."
I managed to get my arm around her shoulder without letting her see
that I'd moved a muscle. Once I touched her though she stiffened
slightly, just for a second. I found bare skin just beyond her flimsy
sleeve and rolled my thumb in a slow circle. She shuddered. She
melted. A sense of triumph stirred, hardening my dick.
"You're far away," I said, keeping my voice low.
Roslyn blinked. "I'm right here, Con."
In other local news, Kilt yawned and Eli had changed position so he
could get a better view of us. Well, he was trying to get a better view of
Roslyn anyway. Apparently he wasn't as close to unconscious as I'd
thought because he'd carefully set his bottle down and slid his hand
over his crotch.
I shot him a look of warning. For now I didn't care if he watched but
he'd better not say a word or twitch a muscle. In a good move, he'd
changed the baseball game to something more suitable. It was porn, but

the semi-classy pay-per-view type that didn't make it obvious from the
first three seconds. Onscreen a woman sat stiffly in a chair, legs
crossed, pen moving as she took dictation from her boss while he rested
a hand on her shoulder and then moved it lower, and lower...
"But you're not close enough, Roslyn," I whispered, curling my arm
around her more firmly.
Roslyn's eyes narrowed and she gave me a shrewd look. "Really? You
think it' s that easy? What happened to ' No pressure' and ' We' re
friends' ?" She shook her head with disgust and I smelled her perfume.
Honeysuckle. "I understand who you are, Conway Gentry. And you
should understand that I'm not some, some, ah..."
"Some what?" I was smiling.
"I'm not some toy that you can play with," she spat.
There was force behind those words but her body spoke a different
language. I could feel her squirming under my touch, could practically
see the tension in the muscles between her legs, could hear the rapid
pace of her breathing and the squeaking break in her voice as she tried
to sound tough. She was battling with herself but I could have told her
to save the drama. I already knew which side would win.
"Aren't you?" I whispered, letting my other hand travel to her face to
stroke her soft cheek. She really was exquisite. I couldn't wait to see
more. I wouldn't have to wait much longer.
"Aren't I what?" she breathed, her voice catching as my thumb brushed
her lower lip.
I smiled and ran my left hand through her hair, tugging lightly. Thick
and dark red, it hung down in long curls. I wanted to feel it on my
thighs.
"Aren't you in the mood to play, Roslyn?"
One of two things was about to happen. She'd tell me to go to hell or
she'd admit she wanted this as much as I did. All she had to do was let
herself go a little. It didn't have to mean anything. It could just be a hot
fuck between two people who happened to have something in common
once.
"Maybe," she whispered.
"Maybe what?"

She licked her lips. "Maybe I'm in the mood to play after all."
"I' m glad," I said, trying not to sound smug.
My knuckles brushed her right breast and she inhaled sharply.
Somewhere down the hall, towards the direction of Jackson' s room I
thought I heard a groan. Kilt snored away in the corner. Eli was
slouching with his head back, eyes narrowed to slits, the dim light
making it look like he was asleep with his hand inside his pants. In the
middle of all that I pulled an unresisting Roslyn right into my lap.
"Con?" she said, suddenly alarmed, and I got a bunch of thick hair in
my face as she tried to twist around to see me. I massaged her shoulders
and felt her gradually loosen up.
"Shh." I pushed her hair aside and slid the sleeve of her shirt down,
enough to kiss her shoulder. "Watch the movie, honey."
She settled down, her back against my chest, her ass unwittingly in
contact with my dick, which she absolutely had to feel. She'd be feeling
a whole more of it. My hands went to her hips, trying to knead the
tender flesh underneath the scratchy denim. That was the first thing that
had to fucking go.
Not yet though. Not quite yet.
Roslyn was getting comfortable, but part of her was still cautious.
Either because of who I was or because casual hookups weren't her
thing, or maybe a little bit of both. If I went at her too hard and too fast
there was a good chance she'd back off. That was the last thing I
wanted.
I started off much slower than usual, gently kneading her hips as events
escalated onscreen. The boss argued with his secretary. She called him
a fucking pig. He called her a teasing bitch. Then they started tearing
each other's clothes off and he pushed his head between her legs right
there on the mahogany desk. After he'd finished her off he loomed over
her, straddling her naked chest, and came all over her face.
The actors were hardly finished gasping with pleasure when I moved
my hands down Roslyn's legs. For a second she pressed her knees
together like she was going to deny access, but when I gradually
worked her thighs apart she didn't object. I could feel how hard she was
breathing, how fast her heart was beating.

As I got bolder and cupped her in my right hand she arched right into
my fingers with a moaning sigh.
When was the last time she'd been touched? She was fucking burning
for it.
Oh, yeah.
This was it. Everything was coming off and going down. Right fucking
now. Unsnapped. Unzipped. Beautiful.
She'd twitched with surprise when I got her shorts open but made no
move to stop me so I felt free to ease my hand down. My fingers knew
how to search for the right spot. Once I found it she let out a soft groan.
That encouraged me to explore deeper, more insistently while my other
hand loosened my pants.
Whatever inhibitions she'd had when we sat down were now gone. The
combination of the alcohol, the darkness, and the roiling sexual tension
was too much for her. She was the type who would probably regret it
all the next morning but right now that didn't make a damn bit of
difference because in a minute she was going to be willing to let me
have her however I wanted.
Eli's eyes glittered in the darkness as he silently enjoyed the show with
one hand working between his legs. Then Kilt stirred and belched in his
sleep, startling Roslyn enough that she jerked and sat up straight. She
hadn't shoved my hand away yet but I could practically hear the wheels
spinning inside her head as her more sensible side realized where she
was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with.
I acted on instinct. I withdrew my hand, waited for a single heartbeat,
then abruptly plunged both hands down inside her open shorts and into
her panties.
"Oh, fuck," she breathed, shuddering as her body reacted by leaning
back and curving her hips upward so I could get a better reach. One
finger penetrated, then two, as hot flesh quivered over the invasion.
"Fuck," she moaned again and oh my ever loving god this was hot,

hearing her gasp and utter foul words that probably only passed her
prissy lips once in a blue moon. Dirty talk had never done much for me
- I was all about the action - but I badly wanted to hear her drop more
language like that.
Meanwhile my eager dick was begging to join the party and threatening
to take the first opening he could get to. Thirty more seconds and I'd
have Roslyn bent over on the floor, pounding her hard right here in the
open with Eli looking on and Kilt now starting to wake up and take
interest. Hell, they'd seen me fuck before and I'd seen them fuck before.
It was no big deal.
Then Roslyn's head rolled back onto my shoulder. A breathy moan
escaped her soft lips and something clenched inside my chest. I'm not
sharing this.
With an impulsive surge of possessiveness I stood and swept her into
my arms.
My dick was halfway out of my pants but that didn't matter. I was going
to carry her to my bed and have every inch of her all to myself all night
long. Tomorrow she could be ashamed if she felt like it but tonight she
was going to come so hard and so much she'd forget that there were any
other dicks on the planet besides mine.
"Conway?" she asked tentatively, her eyes wide as she wrapped her
arms around my neck and let me carry her. I didn't feel like talking right
now though, not unless she was going to say filthy words again. She
looked down the hallway where we were headed and bit her lip but held
on tight.
"Are we-" she started to say and I silenced her by giving her my mouth.
It was the kind of kiss that you could dive into and not care if you lost
your tongue. Fucking intense. She responded with every bit as much
passion as I gave her while we paused just outside the door to my room.
I swung her down and backed her against the nearest wall, my hands
everywhere as her legs circled my waist.
She had strong legs, perfect legs, a dancer's legs. Did she used to be a
dancer? Somewhere in my head was the answer to that question and the
answer was yes. I knew it because someone had told me so a

long time ago. Even though I hadn't thought about Roslyn at all in the
years between then and now I still remembered a few details about her,
just like she probably remembered a few details about me.
I got the door open and carried her with me, switching on the light an
instant before I dumped her on the bed. I locked the door behind me in
case one of the boys felt like being cute and sneaking a peek. If I
wanted an audience I would have stayed out there in the lounge.
She was down on her back and breathing hard. It was quite a sight and
it would be even better when I got all these clothes out of the way. I just
needed to check on something first.
I got between her legs and rubbed my swollen cock against her, lightly
grinding.
"You sure, baby?" I asked, low and sexy as I pressed on the heated core
just on the other side of her panties.
Roslyn didn't seem out of her head to me and outside of one beer she
hadn't had anything to drink but I still wanted to make sure she wasn't
messed up. I could decode women pretty rapidly and this kind of thing
was definitely out of the ordinary for her.
Roslyn opened her eyes and looked right at me, lust and rebellion
stirring together in her big brown eyes.
"Yes," she said with stubbornness and then boldly slid her hands
underneath my shirt, pulling it up. I obliged by tearing the thing right
off my head and then enjoying the way her eyes flickered over me. It
was true that I logged countless hours at the gym for practical reasons
and not for show but when a moment like this came up I was awful glad
the show was available.
Now it was fucking on.
My pants were down, her shorts were off and a handy condom was
clenched in my right hand.
We kissed again and she teased my lip with her teeth in a way that
drove me wild. I got rid of her shirt and started working on her neck,
sucking the skin, while she clutched at my back and bucked against me
with a hiss. Then my mouth went lower, tongue trailing over the mound
of her right tit, which was about to be freed from the confines of its lace
captor. My fingers found the clasp, releasing, and I buried my face in
all

that soft skin. I wanted to take a moment to suck on that prize like
nobody' s business but there was something in my way. It was hard and
got caught in my teeth.
As I backed up the light caught the silver chain around her neck. My
first thought was just to rip the damn necklace off but I figured she
might get pissed so I decided to just shove it to the side for the moment.
Then I blinked.
I rose up on my elbows and stared.
I blinked again and reached for it. Then I pulled back before my fingers
could touch it. The clear piece of crystal hanging from the silver chain
sat there innocently between Roslyn's breasts and threatened to undo
me.
"Conway?" she asked, touching my face.
"It's you," I said and in a voice that didn't even sound like mine. It
sounded bewildered, hurt.
Her eyes clouded with confusion. "What do you mean? What's
me?"
I swallowed. I took a good look at the girl lying nearly naked
underneath me.
Why hadn't I remembered before? Maybe I just didn't want to. I
remembered now though.
"Do you think she'll love it, Con? Her birthday's next week. I think
she'll love it. "
I knew who had been Erin's faithful visitor, perhaps her only faithful
visitor over the years. With Erin's family gone, Stone in prison for so
long and me avoiding the very sound of her name, Erin's devoted best
friend might have been the only one who'd regularly set foot in the
Emblem Memorial Cemetery to pay her respects. Ever since I'd started
visiting now and then I'd noticed the things that were left behind and I
had wondered who the mysterious visitor was. I understood that
whoever it was had loved her too.
More importantly, I knew why Roslyn - a privileged rich girl -wore this
dime store trinket around her neck. After all, I'd been there when Erin
had bought it.

With a sigh of old, never ending agony I closed my eyes and rested my
cheek on Roslyn's bare breasts. She must have been surprised by the
sudden attitude change. She didn't show it though. Instead she reached
down and caressed my face, then gently ran her fingers through my
hair. We stayed that way for a little while until I could trust that the fire
between my legs had cooled. Then I propped myself up on my elbows
again and stared down at her.
"Are you okay?" she asked and I saw the worry in her eyes. She might
think this was all her fault. She shouldn't think that.
"You're beautiful," I told her, then kissed her quickly. "And believe me,
I want you so fucking bad. "
"Then why..." Her voice trailed off and her brow furrowed as she tried
to understand.
How could I explain something to her that I couldn't even explain to
myself? It had been a long time since I got regularly jacked up over
feelings and heartache. My brother Stone had managed to get through
to me a little bit but even he was kept at a distance, and not just for his
own good. Every once in a while, when the old wounds split again, I
had a bad habit of patching them over with speed and sex and
sometimes drugs as I strolled close to the edge of the abyss.
Whether Stone's influence had finally gotten to me or whether coming
eye to eye with old memories had shaken something loose I couldn't do
this tonight. I just couldn't. I'd hate myself for it tomorrow.
When I tried to discreetly yank my pants back into place Roslyn
scooted out from underneath me, sitting up, her long hair falling over
her soft skin as she quietly hooked her bra and stared down at the bed.
"I think I should go," she said quietly.
I closed my eyes. "Don't."
She looked up, startled. I'd said it too loudly, almost desperately. I
wouldn' t fuck her right now. But I didn' t want her to leave either.
"Just stay. Please?"
She tilted her head, shrugging. "Why?" "Because I want you to."
Before she could say no I hopped up and turned out the light. She

stayed hunched right there in the middle of my bed, watching me in the
dark, her lovely, soft profile making my heart ache almost as much as
my balls did. This would be a chore, being with her and not sliding into
that hot body until we both got lost in temporary ecstasy. I could do it
though. For once I could act better than an animal would.
Roslyn didn't move as I crossed the room and crawled into bed beside
her. When I pulled her back to settle down on the pillows she didn' t
resist at all. This was the closest we were going to get, at least for
tonight.
"Just sleep," I whispered as I curled her into my arms and covered the
both of us with a loose comforter I picked up from the floor.
She rested her cheek on my shoulder and let out a tiny, contented sigh
that made my chest feel strange again. I propped my chin on the top of
her head and closed my eyes.
Another time, another place, and maybe things would be different but
not tonight.
Tonight I was tired.
Tonight I just wanted to hold her.
Tonight, for the first time in a long while, I was letting my heart win a
small battle.

CHAPTER EIGHT
ROSLYN
it s you.
I awoke with the echo of those words in my ear even though they'd
been spoken hours earlier.
Sometimes when people fall asleep in unexpected places they lose their
bearings. The brain clicks back to awareness and struggles to recall the
name of the planet it lives on. I still remembered waking up my first
morning as a college freshman in my dorm room and wondering if my
mind had been transferred to someone else's body during the night.
That wasn't the case this morning. Before I even opened my eyes I
knew that I was in Conway' s bed.
I also knew without looking at the empty space beside me that he
wasn't here.
My stiff joints creaked in protest as I sat up and I figured I must have
been in the exact same position for quite some time. Everything else
was a mystery though. The night hours had passed deep and dreamless
and I had no idea at what point Conway had loosened his embrace and
slipped out of bed. He'd left no note.
Sitting up, I swung my legs around to dangle over the side of the bed.
All I wore were the bra and panties I'd slept in.
Slept.
In the end that's all we'd done, although we'd come close, so close.
My face burned and a lick of desire rolled through me as I recalled just
how dangerously we'd skated that edge. In the hard light of morning I
could only plead temporary insanity helped along by alcohol, an
embarrassingly long sex famine, and a very powerful physical
attraction.
Yet I couldn' t take credit for being the sensible one, the one who
paused and zipped up before things escalated past the point of no
return.

I hadn' t been the one to stop. He had.
Why?
Conway didn't seem like the type who would be ethically troubled by
an impulsive one night stand. He had to have a different reason.
I felt a frown cross my face as I recalled the stricken look in Conway's
eyes, how he'd released an odd noise and then gently rested his head on
my chest in a way that activated an odd, protective sense that I wanted
to hold him, comfort him.
How strange that seemed, especially given everything I'd seen of him
lately. This was Conway Gentry, the same brash, arrogant man who
lived in this circus of a hotel obviously filled with addicts, hustlers, and
other exotic members of his dark world.
Conway Gentry, who was sexy and gorgeous even as he radiated
danger and ruin.
Conway Gentry, who at first seemed like he'd grown so strong and
remote these last six years that he was barely recognizable.
Conway Gentry, who had once worshipped his high school sweetheart
so much he never even slept with her.
Conway Gentry, who'd reportedly screamed with anguish when he' d
learned his girlfriend was dead and then smashed his hand into a Main
Street light pole to send the pain elsewhere. I'd long forgotten who had
told me how he'd reacted upon hearing the news of Erin's death but I
was sure it was true.
And lastly, Conway Gentry, who had turned off the light and crawled
into bed beside me merely to sleep.
Somehow he was all of these versions of the same person and they were
all him.
And what about Erin? Hardly a day had gone by in the last six years
that I hadn't thought about her, missed her, mourned her. Once, right
after I'd received an unexpected letter, it had occurred to me to reach
out to Conway. After all, she'd loved him. She'd loved him so much.
And losing her had crushed him. I could have found him if I' d wanted
to. Why didn't I? Selfish reasons maybe. At the time it was hard enough
to think of her without crying. I knew in Conway's face I would see my
own grief magnified.

I sighed and stood up, searching for my discarded clothes. So much
time had passed. We weren't kids now, weren't the same people we'd
once been.
As I dressed I wondered how the surreal events of last night would play
out today. Probably the best idea would be to get the hell out of here
and back to the security of my apartment before I had a chance to
examine the way my heart started to race and my knees went funny
every time the memory of Conway's blue eyes flashed through my
mind.
My clothes were still in a limp pile on the floor and I gathered them up,
hastily dressing as I made mental plans to escape before Conway could
come back and change my mind about it. He'd probably have no
trouble forgetting about this. I could do the same.
Then I stiffened.
"Dammit," I said aloud to the empty room because I'd just remembered
Emily was in here somewhere. Presumably she wouldn' t need my help
disentangling from her new love interest but she' d sure be curious to
know what I' d been up to last night after she waltzed away with
Jackson.
Whatever. I' d worry about Emily and explanations later. Right now I
just needed to find my way out of this decrepit old eyesore without
attracting any attention.
Wait. My phone. Where was my phone?
With my keys. In my purse.
And where's my purse?
I' d dropped it behind the couch out there in the lounge before crawling
into Conway's lap. Once he'd gotten his hands on me all practical
thoughts had flown out the window. It had been so damn long since I'd
been touched like that.
In fact, if I was being honest then I'd say I wasn't sure if I'd ever been
touched like that, with such hunger and skill. Conway was well versed
in the art of seduction and it must have come from practice. While I was
no virginal blank slate myself, I had to admit his raw charisma had sent
my head spinning.
Which was exactly why I needed to high tail it out of here before

he returned and decided to be less gallant than he was last night. I knew
very well I wouldn't be able to say no to him.
For a few seconds I stood still, listening. A pair of muted male voices
sounded like they were coming from somewhere down the hall. They
spoke quietly, one briefly erupting into hoarse laughter, before they
continued talking. I couldn't tell if either one belonged to Conway.
But then an uncomfortable spasm reminded me I had a more immediate
problem than Conway or keys or the unknown inhabitants of the Hotel
San Gabriel.
I needed to pee. Badly.
Luckily the room had a private bath and the door was wide open. Once
I took care of business I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping
the world would make a little more sense, hoping I wouldn' t be hiding
in the bathroom of my dead best friend's boyfriend.
I dried my face on a Spiderman beach towel that was hanging over the
shower rod and visited my reflection in the mirror, tucking my hair
behind my ears. I looked pale and wide-eyed, altogether washed out.
There was a nasty taste in my mouth so I took a mouthful of Listerine
and spat, reasoning it was probably okay to borrow a guy' s mouthwash
without asking if you've almost had sex with him.
Alas, although my bladder was grateful for the relief, things weren't
any clearer than they had been a moment ago. Conway hadn't returned,
my heart still raced at the thought of him, and now an unearthly silence
prevailed. Moreover, I had no idea what I'd find out in the hallway once
I opened that door. There might be an orgy or a meth party or the
zombie apocalypse or nothing at all.
The door was locked, which meant Conway must have locked up when
he left. I eased it open slowly, wincing over the loud creak of unoiled
hinges before cautiously peering into the hallway. It was empty. There
was nothing to see except some shabby green carpeting that might have
been a good idea in 1973 but looked just horrid now. The whole place
was permeated with the musty odor of age but I caught a brief whiff of
incense, reminding me of my college days.
I closed the door at my back and warily stepped in the direction of

the lounge where I'd been sitting with Conway last night.
What had he told me about living here? Very little. But then, we hadn't
had much of a chance for in depth conversation. We'd had time to
argue, banter, flirt, almost hook up in a rage of fiery passion and then
sleep. A leisurely exchange of ideas hadn't been a priority.
As soon as I rounded the corner I breathed a sigh of relief. The brown
leather Coach bag I'd had since high school was exactly where I'd
left it.
That little bit of relief was short-lived. I wasn't alone after all. "Hello
there," boomed a cheerful voice.
An enormous creature with startling red hair erupting all over his face
and head waved at me from an armchair. He was holding the New York
Times while a box of donuts precariously balanced on his knee.
Somewhere in the sea of red hair a pair of green eyes blinked. He
looked like someone who'd accidentally stepped through a portal where
marauding medieval barbarians lived.
I relaxed a notch when recognition kicked in. This guy had been here
last night, snoring on one of the couches on the far side of the room. He
must be Conway's friend.
Red Beard was grinning at me with undisguised glee. Maybe he hadn't
actually been sleep last night, when I'd nearly parted with my dignity
right here in front of whoever cared to watch. My cheeks burned. I'd
never done anything remotely that dirty before. What the hell was it
about Conway that made me abandon all common sense?
"It's Roslyn, right?" the man said. Then he stuffed two chocolate donuts
in his mouth.
"That's right." I carefully shouldered my purse, looking around.
The television was on but the volume was muted, some sort of morning
program featuring a bright-eyed, excessively chipper hostess who
could have been discussing anything from the stock market to mad cow
disease.
Red Beard chewed his donuts and watched me silently as I pawed
through my purse. One glance at my phone told me two things; it was
eight o'clock on Sunday morning and there were no new calls or texts.
I tapped out a 'Where are you?' text to Emily.

"Don't worry," the man said. "He'll be back."
I slipped the phone into my back pocket. "What?"
Red Beard folded his newspaper and studied me. There was that grin
again; impeccable white teeth flashing beneath a mutinous beard. He
might be a little handsome beneath all that wild hair and menacing
muscle.
"Con," he explained. "Hustled out of here about twenty minutes ago but
told me to keep an eye out in case you wandered out here."
"Where did he go?"
"Fuck if I know. Your boy's not into explaining himself. Haven't you
figured that out yet? By the way my name's Brian but only because my
mother lost a bet. These days anyone who needs my attention calls me
Kilt or they' re wasting their time."
"Nice to meet you."
It wasn't overly warm in here yet somehow I felt stifled. I needed either
coffee or fresh air. A combination would be nice.
Kilt separated his newspaper into two sections and tossed one on the
coffee table. "There's a pot of coffee back there on the counter, extra
cups lying around somewhere. If you want to take a seat out here and
wait around for Con I don't mind. Feel free to change the channel." He
raised a bushy eyebrow. "Unless you prefer to hang out in my lap and
share the newspaper?"
I took a step back. "Uh, thanks for the offer. I think I' ll stick to coffee
though."
"Ouch. I feel rejected," Kilt laughed. He didn' t seem especially put out.
"Didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"Your loss," he said with a wink. "But I feel like I ought to mention that
we'd make some mighty cute red-headed babies together if you ever
change your mind."
It was an absurd line but I found myself smiling anyway. "If you say
so."
Kilt returned to his donuts and I poured a cup of coffee into a mug with
the Arizona Cardinals logo. "Hey, have you seen a girl around
here?"

"Girls?" He frowned. "They're in and out of here all the time. You
looking for one in particular?"
"I was wondering about my friend. Emily."
"Nope, haven't seen anything that looks like an Emily."
"She was here last night with one of Conway's friends. You must know
him too. Name' s Jackson."
Kilt snorted. "Thought I heard some pounding coming from
somewhere. Don't worry, kid. Jackson's almost as much of a fine,
upstanding gentleman as I am."
I sipped my coffee. "I'm not sure how to feel about that."
"Then you're every bit as smart as you are beautiful."
"Nice of you to say."
He winked. "Still holding out hope for those red-headed babies."
This Kilt character had a gruff kind of charm and I didn't mind the
flirting. He obviously knew Conway pretty well and he seemed
harmless enough.
Speaking of Conway...
The stairwell door opened and Conway busted through it, all abs and
broad shoulders and tattooed sweaty skin.
He noticed me with a nod. "Well, look who finally woke up."
It took me a few seconds to untie my tongue and force my eyes away
from his muscled chest. I tossed my hair and cleared my throat, aiming
for a nonchalant tone.
"Usually I'm an early riser," I said. "Apparently not as early as you
though."
Conway yawned. "Actually I hate mornings. Just dashed out for a run
to blow off some steam."
Kilt laughed from his armchair. "Since when do you run for fun,
Con-man?"
"Since always."
"Bullshit."
"Wanna race?" "No."
Conway grinned. Then he jerked his head, motioning that I ought to
follow him. He didn' t look back to see if I was coming. He just

expected I would trail after him like a pet. He was right.
"Sorry, I guess I left your room unlocked," I said when he tried the
handle.
"It's fine," he shrugged. "I only locked it on my way out because I didn't
want to risk anyone busting in there and bothering you." He arched an
eyebrow and surveyed me. "You sleep like the dead you know."
"Not usually."
I tended to be a fitful sleeper, a periodic insomniac. I didn't know how I'
d been able to fall into such a deep rest in a strange bed.
He held the door open for me and I stepped inside the room. I wished
I'd made the bed earlier. The wrinkled sheets beckoned suggestively. I
swallowed, remembering a few key moments from the night before.
Conway didn't seem like he was about to jump on me though. He wiped
his face off with a stray t-shirt and headed for the bathroom.
"About last night..." I started to say and then didn't know how to
continue.
What about last night?
It was nuts. And erotic. And tender.
And despite the fact that I've known this guy's name ever since I could
remember I didn't actually know him. So it was also foolish. And
stupid.
Conway tossed the t-shirt in a corner. "You like that movie too?"
"What movie?"
"About Last Night"
I raised an eyebrow. "The original or the remake?" "I didn't know there
was a remake so let's chat about the original." "Actually I love it. I
make it a point to watch it at least several times year."
"Is that so?"
"It's part of my personal collection of classic eighties cinema." "Funny.
Every time I'm channel surfing at three a.m. it always seems to be on.
That or St Elmo's Fire."
I laughed. "Another one of my favorites."

Conway was watching me from across the room. "So what else are you
a fan of, Roslyn? I mean besides the era of feathered bangs and
stonewashed jeans."
I thought for a moment. "The ocean. I love the ocean."
"Like the beach?"
"Yes. That tends to be where the ocean lives."
"Not a lot of those in Arizona," Conway said and then headed into the
bathroom. Two seconds later the shower blasted to life. He hadn' t
closed the bathroom door.
"Um, Conway?"
He turned around, one thumb already hooked in the waistband of his
shorts, as if he was on the verge of pulling them down. "What?" What?
I should have answered with "I need to go," or "Thanks for a strange,
exciting and altogether confusing night," but I just cleared my throat
and said, "What are you doing?"
He looked behind him. He turned back to me with a puzzled frown.
"Taking a shower," he said in a tone that implied I was an absolute idiot
for not figuring that out.
"Oh. Well. Okay."
He kicked his shoes off and pulled the shower curtain back. "You want
in or what? I've got enough soap for the both of us."
"Thanks," I said wryly. "You keep your soap to yourself. I'll wait out
here."
With the fire of lust melting my loins.
"I was just kidding," he called but I kind of doubted that. He still hadn'
t closed the door when he pulled his shorts down. I averted my eyes, but
not before I got a healthy glimpse of his tight, muscular backside. And
damn it to hell, but my treacherous mind was fervently wishing he
would turn around just for a second.
"Jesus," I mumbled, taking a seat on the bed because it was the only
seat around.
Conway whistled while he showered, a rather complicated tune I
couldn't place at the moment. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I

exhaled with combined relief and exasperation when I saw who was
calling.
"Good morning," greeted my sleepy, normally responsible roommate
as she yawned, presumably somewhere in the bowels of the Hotel San
Gabriel.
"Em, are you here somewhere?"
"Where?" She was confused.
"The hotel."
"Sure." Then she giggled as sheets rustled and a male voice murmured
in the background. "Are you?" "Well, yeah. I mean, I' m in a room."
She was instantly alert. "Really? Is there nudity involved?"
"Emily!"
"Sorry." She whispered something to her companion and returned.
"Roe, are you pissed at me? I swear I didn't mean to ditch you last night
but I thought you were getting along really well with Con
and-"
"It's okay," I cut her off because I didn't want to talk about just how
well I'd gotten along with the naked shower whistler. Baba O 'Riley.
That was the song. The shower was still going strong and it sounded
like he was going to whistle his way through every freaking stanza.
"Are you really okay?" Emily asked, a little sharper now, evidently
snapping out of her post-coital fog. "I'm fabulous." "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Sounds like you' re fabulous too. It' s just that I' m taking off in a
little while and I wanted to make sure I wasn' t leaving you stranded."
More murmuring on the other end. Then Emily returned. "I' ll come
with you," she said firmly.
"You don't have to," I said slowly, guiltily.
"I' m coming. The universe is whispering in my ear that you need
me."
"I don't think that's the universe whispering and I'm sure I can find

my own way home."
"Just give me about ten minutes." She giggled again. "Maybe
fifteen."
Emily ended the call before I could ask how we'd find each other. As I
tossed the phone into my purse I realized that the whistling had stopped
and the shower wasn't running anymore.
Mercifully - or not - Conway had wrapped the Spider Man towel
around his middle before exiting the shower. He shook water out of his
short, dark hair and paused at the sink.
I wracked my brain for something casual to say, something that would
distract me from the mix of hope and fear that the towel would
somehow slip off.
I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You dyed you
hair."
He poked his head around the bathroom doorframe and looked at me,
his gaze lingering on my legs, which were prudishly crossed at the
ankle.
"Some of it," he answered with a smirk. "Some of it gets dyed and some
of it gets shaved."
"Seriously?" I muttered, both irritated and turned on by the
implications of that statement.
"Seriously," he said and strolled into the room, clad only in a superhero
towel that appeared to be in imminent danger of slipping.
Conway paused directly in front of me and idly scratched his belly. I
couldn't help but drink in every sip of that six pack. And even though
there was something unseemly about remaining seated on the bed
while he loomed over me half naked I stayed put, bending my head
back to see his face. He continued to stare down at me thoughtfully.
"I think this conversation might go to a weird place," he said.
I didn't blink. "So far every conversation we've had has gone to a weird
place."
He stroked his chin. "Fair enough. But if you're searching for a reason
behind my personal grooming choices, I was just trying to match my
beard."
"You don't have a beard."

"Not today. Every now and then I like to challenge Kilt to a facial hair
competition."
"In that case I would put all my money on Kilt without hesitation."
He put his hand over his heart. "That hurt."
I giggled. "You take that much pride in your imaginary beard?"
"Indeed." Conway grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. He
studied me for a long moment. I studied him back. Then I withdrew my
right hand from his grasp and tentatively touched his forehead, just
below the hairline.
"Looks like your roots are showing."
He grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. I'd noticed that
he did that a lot, almost like a nervous habit, although on the whole
Conway seemed about as nervous as your average shark.
"I know," he said. "I've got to take care of that before I go back to being
as blonde as my brothers."
"Brothers plural? I didn't know you had any other brothers besides
Stone."
He didn't flinch, but there was a flash of something in his eyes.
Sadness? Surprise? If I hadn't been looking into them so deeply I
wouldn' t have even noticed.
"I don' t," he said smoothly.
I was confused. Maybe he'd just been startled to hear me mention his
brother' s name because it reminded him that I wasn' t just some
random girl he' d picked up. But something told me that wasn' t the
reason. Conway Gentry had secrets, and he wasn't about to share them.
Anyway, before I could formulate an answer he covered my mouth
with his. I didn't protest, not even a little. I melted against him, feeling
his towel fall as swiftly as my defenses. His hand circled the back of my
neck and fingers twisted into my hair, tugging ever so lightly. He knew
what he was doing all right. I let out a half smothered moan and eagerly
wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sucking his tongue and getting
hotter by the second, expecting he would push me back onto the bed. I
waited for it. And despite all the mixed up confusion about the past and
the present it was exactly what I wanted.

Conway's other arm surrounded my waist, pulling me close enough to
feel right through my clothes how hard he was. Instinct took over. My
legs wrapped themselves around him, the ache inside of me reaching a
crescendo that would have to be dealt with one way or another. Instead
of easing me toward the bed though, he backed up and then walked me
toward the wall until I felt its smooth solidity at my back.
He pulled away and gave me a penetrating look. "You're making this
really hard."
My lips felt swollen, my insides were raging. I looked down. There was
a lot to look at. "I can tell."
He didn' t laugh. He stroked my cheek and looked almost regretful for a
second.
"I promised myself," he whispered as he unbuttoned my shorts. I
relaxed my legs so that he would be able to undress me. The shorts slid
to the floor.
My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned my own shirt. Being so forward
was unlike me, but then again I hadn't been able to think straight since I
saw Conway sitting at Jackson's table last night. I didn't really believe
in fate and I didn't know what he meant, what kind of promise had
made and what' s more I didn' t care.
"Break it," I whispered back. "Whatever promise you made yourself,
break it, Conway."
He sucked in a breath, let it out in a hiss. I could feel him, rock hard
against my belly.
"Oh, I'm fucking breaking it all right."
There was no good reason to talk about this anymore, no good reason to
stop. Well, no good reason except logic. And unbridled lust will beat
that sensible fucker back almost every time.
From the look in Conway's eyes I could tell which side had won this
round. My shirt fell. My bra was unhooked.
Then three sharp knocks on the door almost startling me into
screaming.
"Roslyn, are you in there?"

More knocking. Emily had chosen a very unfortunate time to emerge
from her Jacksonian trance.
"Roslyn!"
I closed my eyes. Conway's tongue slid into my mouth and his hand
dove between my legs. One finger slipped inside of me. My hand
eagerly closed around the solid muscle at the center of this mania and
Conway's lusty answering groan became my lord and master.
"Jackson, you sure this is the right room?" Emily's loud voice floated
over, probably only ten feet away distance-wise, but it might as well
have been located in another solar system for all the impact it had on
me.
"Babe, of course I'm sure." Jackson sounded amused. "Where is she
then? You think she left already?" I heard Jackson's chuckle. "No."
It happened fast, so fast. I didn't even notice how or when my panties
had been abandoned. I just knew they were no longer there. I knew my
legs were once more around his waist and this time there were no
barriers in our way.
I knew the wall at my back was the only solid thing on earth.
I knew that with a grunt and a hard push Conway was buried deep
inside of me but not deep enough. No, it would never be deep enough
no matter how completely I gave in. There was something
frighteningly powerful about this physical connection. I couldn't
imagine that I would ever get my fill of him as I strained and bucked,
clutched and moaned in a frenzy while the world abruptly broke into
ten thousand brilliant colors that were too intense to name.
Conway came right after I did, shuddering and unleashing himself
inside of me in a way that no one ever had before because no coupling
had ever been like this, so furious and instinctive. Common sense was
the enemy here. I quieted the distant alarm bells as I welcomed him
with a shriek that was scarcely muzzled by sucking on the smooth skin
of his right shoulder.
Emily was no longer pounding on the door. Or maybe she was, but I
found it impossible to concentrate on anything but this intense
connection. I sighed as he slipped away from me. He pressed his

forehead to mine as we held each other up and panted from the
aftershocks.
"Dammit," was the word I thought he whispered under his breath but I
didn' t have time to think about that because he hurriedly crossed the
room, pulled clothes out of a battered old wardrobe and dressed with
his head down.
Slowly I put myself back together. Conway didn't look up until I had
my clothes back on and when he did there was confusion and maybe
even a little bit of pain in his eyes. He watched me as I smoothed my
hair, hoping that I wasn't shaking as much on the outside as I was on the
inside.
In all my sheltered, well-planned twenty-three years, the last ten
minutes had been the most careless ones I'd ever lived. "I need to go," I
said.
It wasn't what I really wanted. It was just what I needed to do. What I
wanted was for him to ask me to stay like he had last night when we
wrapped our arms around each other all through the dark hours.
This wasn't last night though. This was the stark light of day and a part
of my mind was already panicking.
Dejection crossed Conway's face and was quickly replaced by an
indifferent mask. He bent his head and slowly nodded before putting
his hand on the doorknob.
"I'll walk you out."
Emily was wandering around with a cup of coffee now. She practically
tackled me the moment I exited Conway' s room. Something in my face
stopped her from peppering me with questions right then and there and
she merely offered a quick hug. I squeezed her hand in gratitude before
she returned to Jackson' s side. I saw her studying Conway with open
curiosity. He pretended not to notice.
"You ready?" he asked me.
"Hold on." I dashed back into his room, grabbed my purse and
followed Conway to the elevator where Emily and Jackson were
waiting.
We trailed behind the two lovebirds, just as we'd done last night on our
walk from the bar. The parking garage seemed farther away than I' d

thought it was, but that was probably due to the fact that with every step
I was clumsily searching my brain for something meaningful to say.
"It's a nice day," I commented as casually as I could while I squinted up
at the sky behind the buildings of downtown Phoenix. It was overcast
and cool, an overall gloomy grey day that might not be considered
'nice' in most places but such days were a gift here. The heat and
searing sun always came too soon and stayed far too long. "You're
right," said Conway.
Ahead of us, Jackson and Emily were holding hands. Once I saw him
pause, sweep some shards of glass away with his boot and then carry
her over the offending bit of sidewalk as she giggled and clung to him.
By the time we reached my car I was really burning to leave this
morning behind. I just wanted to be alone and brood over my
irresponsible actions for the rest of the day. However, Emily and
Jackson decided to prolong our departure by making out on the hood of
my car.
"Thank you," I said to Conway, somewhat stiffly, and he raised an
eyebrow.
"You're welcome," he said, flashing an unmistakably lecherous
grin.
I had to admit I'd asked for it, but I rolled my eyes anyway. "I meant for
walking me to my car."
He barked out a laugh. "I'm sure that's exactly what you meant." When
I didn't return his laugh and glared at him stonily he dropped the act.
"Roslyn," he said as I cursed myself for the way I shivered when my
name rolled off his tongue.
I waited for him to continue but he seemed to lose track of whatever he
wanted to say and examined the concrete ground.
"Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime," I said and he looked
up.
Those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes.
"We will," he said with almost cocky confidence, although his smile
seemed more sincere now. "Sooner or later you would have figured this
out, but you've got my number in your phone."

"When did that happen?"
"This morning. Your purse was sitting right out in plain view, phone
right on top. You should really protect it better, use a password." He
leaned over and dropped his voice conspiratorially. "I also might have
snapped a few photos of my best assets. Use them
well."
"Classy."
"Always."
"So you'll just be sitting around waiting for my call?" "I didn't say that."
I crossed my arms. "What are you saying?" Conway reached out and
played with a strand of my hair. "You ask a lot of questions."
"You don't give a lot of answers."
Suddenly he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. It was a
strangely tender gesture from a guy who was full of one contradiction
after another.
"We'll talk," he said softly.
Then he kissed my hand like a gallant prince of the underworld and
walked away, hands jammed in his pockets.
Emily and Jackson had apparently already finished saying their
passionate farewells and were quietly watching the Roslyn and
Conway show. Jackson gave my roommate one final kiss, offered me a
brief wave, then jogged after Conway.
I'd already buckled my seatbelt by the time Emily floated into the car.
She let out a happy sigh and leaned against the window as I started the
ignition.
"Amazing night," she breathed.
"I can see that."
"I could totally fall for him."
"I'm glad, Em."
We were out on the street now. The downtown area cleared out
dramatically on weekends, unless there was a sports game or other
event going on.
Emily reached over and pinched me lightly.

"So what about you?" she teased.
"We watched television and fell asleep."
"What?" she squeaked. "No way. You're holding out on me. Seriously,
Roslyn, is that all?"
"No."
"So you like him, this Con guy?"
"Conway." "What?"
"Conway Gentry. That's his full name."
She frowned. "Wait, I've heard that name before tonight. I know I
have."
I took a right turn too sharply. The car's tires protested as loud as a
woman's scream.
"Yeah," I sighed. "I think I've heard it before too."

CHAPTER NINE
CONWAY
I was a fucking idiot. Fucking.
Idiot.
When I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning I felt strangely
proud of myself and full of unfamiliar, tender feelings for the girl lying
beside me. Then Roslyn turned over and the bed sheet slipped, showing
me things that translated into an instant boner.
Yet instead of doing what Conway the Creep would usually do I snuck
out of there and sweated out those urges on a run through the
downtown streets. And later, when I flirted with her in my room I didn'
t expect anything to happen because she just seemed so wrapped up and
proper, perched on the edge of my bed with her arms crossed and those
long legs glued together.
Anyway, I was proud of myself. I was thinking I just might be capable
of standing on the moral high ground after all. I could be that kind of
man; like Stone, like the triplets, like Deck.
Then I went ahead and tripped over my own goddamn dick. Sure the
fall had been psychotically good and I'd be beating off to that shit for
months but that wasn't the point.
Of course it wasn't all my fault, the fact that we'd lost our minds at the
same time and fucked up against a wall with the crazy abandon of two
rutting animals in the woods. My breaking point came on suddenly.
Roslyn leveled me with a look that was both shy and defiant. What
came after that was a fierce victory of body over mind.
I' d already walked away from her in the parking garage after another
sideshow of frisky banter when I heard her car engine rumble to life.
The sound made me freeze for a second.
Fuck.

I should have asked her to go have breakfast, or lunch, or whatever it
was that all those stand up civilians out there in the clean world did
together after they fucked.
"Wait up!" Jackson called.
The sound of Roslyn' s engine receded as she drove out of the parking
garage.
I started walking again. Fast.
"Con!" Jackson was exasperated when he caught up to me. "Where's
the fire?"
"Sorry. I got to get back. I was in the middle of something."
"I heard," Jackson chuckled. "But I think it just drove out of here in an
Acura."
I looked over my shoulder and glimpsed the car's taillights just before it
turned a corner. "No kidding. Guess I'll take a nap then."
My buddy slapped a hand on my shoulder. "You hungry? I'll treat you
to a pile of deep fried grease."
We walked three blocks to a small diner around the corner from the
ballpark. On game days the place was always packed but this morning
there were only three other customers.
I ordered a cheese omelet with hash browns at the counter and almost
had to brawl with Jackson over the bill. I just didn't like anyone laying
down cash on my behalf, even if it came from one of my best friends.
"You realize I let you win," I grumbled after he'd placed his own order
and joined me at the table.
"Of course I do," he said with a smirk.
These days I was more ripped than he was but he'd spent some time on
the amateur boxing circuit when he was in high school so any fight
between us would have been a tough call. We went way back, Jackson
and me. He was one of the few friends I made my senior year of high
school when I was living at Deck's house. At the time I was just trying
to figure out how to get from one day to the next.
Jackson was no angel and he'd be the first to admit it. He'd done time,
almost a year down at the Emblem facility for assault and battery.
However, the guy he'd run through the windshield of an

Escalade had just slapped a woman so hard her nose broke. So even
though the law said one thing, the code of the streets said something
different. That was the code we lived by and it said Jackson was the
kind of friend you wanted in your corner. That was why I' d felt
comfortable asking him for a huge favor just before he got sent away
downstate. I'd asked him to keep an eye out for my brother. As far as I
knew he and Stone had never actually spoken down there and Stone
never found out about Jackson' s guardian duties until they accidentally
ran into each other on the outside. I had never wanted Stone to know
how much I worried about him, how many nights I spent grieving for
my brother and praying he was safe down there in that horrible cage. I
had never told him that, not in so many words.
As we waited for our food to arrive Jackson had a lot to say about
Emily. That was the thing about him; Jackson fucked around casually
now and then like the rest of us but when he liked a girl he really liked
her. Still, something he said caused me to raise an eyebrow.
"You talked all night? That Emily girl was climbing all over you like a
second skin and you didn't even fuck her?"
The waitress chose that very second to arrive at the table with our food.
Her nametag said 'Patti' and she'd evidently heard my last charming
comment. She seemed amused. "Can I get you gentlemen anything
else?"
"Tabasco sauce," said Jackson sweetly. He smiled. "Please."
She reached back and plucked a small red bottle from the neighboring
empty table and deposited it between our plates.
"Thanks," I said, batting my eyes innocently.
She wasn't young - probably closing in on the big four oh - but she had
a smile that did her credit. She flashed it now.
"Just take it easy on that Tabasco sauce, boys. Heartburn's a
bitch."
Then she winked and sauntered away, leaving that little bit of life
advice hanging around in the air.
Jackson chuckled. "I' m leaving her a big tip."
"I'll double it. But I bet she hears worse than us twenty times a
day."

"Worse than you. I'm a fucking prince." "Emily seems to think so."
"I hope she does." He cocked his head. "Are you gonna give out details
on your overnight guest?"
I dumped a puddle of Tabasco sauce over my omelet. Heartburn be
damned. "You want me to draw you a diagram?"
"If it'll help you articulate better."
I took a huge bite. Two seconds later I realized I might have overdone it
with the hot sauce. My eyes watered and I gulped down an entire glass
of ice water. Jackson neatly cut up his breakfast burrito and started
consuming it in an orderly fashion while I choked.
"There's no story to tell," I finally croaked out.
I coughed twice more, my throat still afire. Our faithful waitress
silently appeared to refill my water glass and I gave her a nod of thanks.
Jackson was looking at me skeptically. "No story, huh?"
"Not unless you really need a down and dirty description of organs and
orifices."
"I don't."
"Then I've got nothing to add. We had some fun and maybe I'll call her
some time. "
He slowly grinned. "You like her."
"Sure, she's got tits and a face. What's not to like?"
My friend put his fork down, studied the table for a moment, then
looked me right in the eye. "I've watched you, Conway. I've known you
since the year you bottomed out and decided to stay down there in the
gutter."
"Likewise, my friend."
Jackson nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "But I'm going to make this
observation anyway. I've seen you with every flavor of girl that God
ever made and you could take or leave any one of them as easily as the
one before."
"So?"
"So I can tell right off the bat that ain't the case with this girl, this
Roslyn."
Damn that Jackson but he could be practically psychic

sometimes. I snorted and concentrated on twisting some pepper out of
the grinder.
"Maybe," I finally said.
He nodded, a little arrogantly. "What's she got on you? And don't tell
me it's nothing because lies hurt my feelings."
I scraped the sauce away from the omelet with my fork. "Quit the
drama. I kind of knew her a long time ago, that's all."
"A long time ago?"
I sighed. "A really fucking long time ago."
Jackson was prepared to wait until I told him everything. So I sort of
did. At least I told him the short version. He'd heard about Erin before.
Of all the boys, Jackson already had the most details because he' d
known me the longest, but he always kept his information to himself.
There'd never been a reason to mention Roslyn though. She hadn' t
exactly been on my mind until I saw her waltz into a crowded room one
Saturday night. And then I'd tried to forget about her until she strolled
into the bar yesterday and managed to unlock a door that I thought had
been sealed forever.
He listened quietly, just as real friends do. When I was done the only
question he asked was a question I was still asking myself.
"Are you really going to call her?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I want to."
But that didn' t mean I would. Roslyn was a goody two shoes civilian
with a regular job. She probably sipped her morning latte while
listening to NPR on her car radio as she drove to work in gridlock and
lived in one of those neatly gentrified downtown neighborhoods where
everyone keeps clay flowerpots on their balconies. What the hell did I
have in common with a girl like that? I hadn't gotten around to
explaining to her the kind of life I led and she wouldn't understand it
anyway.
Jackson made good on his promise to leave Patti the waitress a healthy
tip and I ended up tripling it, which made me feel a little bit noble. I'd
been watching her bustle around, constantly on the move doing
everything for everyone else. When a small boy spilled his milk and his
father barked out a scolding, she patted the kid's head, cleaned it

all up and brought him a cookie without even looking at the irate
parent. I hoped the tip would send that brilliant smile back to her face.
Women like her deserved to smile.
When we were almost at San Gabriel's door when Jackson remembered
he' d promised to be somewhere. It seemed he' d been training again at
some seedy third rate gym, hoping to get back into fighting. I knew he
didn't like fighting so I'd asked him what the hell he was backsliding for
but he just shot me a rueful grin and said it was tough finding work as
an ex-con. Jackson didn't like to talk about it but I knew his dream was
to live the straight life, probably with a nice girl like Emily at his side. I
made a mental note to ask Stone if there was anything he could do.
Stone knew first hand how hard it was to rebuild your life once you had
a record and I'd explain to him that Jackson's tough guy act from back
in the prison yard days was just that, an act.
The San Gabriel used to have these fancy revolving glass doors but half
the panels were cracked or missing at this point. A few of those
handbag-clutching historic preservationist ladies from the posh
Biltmore crowd came around every once in a while. They always took
pictures and tried to find someone to talk to about 'restoring the dignity
of this once great landmark' but nobody was interested. If they hung
around for more than a few minutes they'd get spooked when the
tweakers tried to paw their hair and if someone really scary looking like
Kilt came walking in their direction they'd run off like fire was chasing.
As I rolled through the broken door I tried to squint at the lobby and
imagine the place as it would have looked in all its Prohibition era
glory. I used to love thinking about stuff like that but it had been a
while since I'd had much interest in history. Who had time for the past
when the present was so exhausting?
Whatever kind of glitzy heyday the hotel had enjoyed was long gone by
now anyway. The chandelier had been stripped of its crystals and the
brass elevators looked dingy. It was likely no one had given the lobby
floor a good scrubbing since the last presidential administration. For a
moment that made me sad on behalf of the old place.
Sometimes the local homeless folks would wander in here and try

to crouch in a corner for a while, especially when the temps climbed
higher. I saw one of them here now, even though the weather was cool
and overcast. I recognized him, a grizzled old guy who usually hung
out by the ballpark, always wore a green army jacket and would tell
you he fought in Vietnam if you asked him a question about anything at
all. He was missing his left hand and everyone called him 'Fingers'.
Fingers watched me with wary, rheumy eyes as he gathered up his
garbage bags full of everything he owned. A lot of the residents here
were paranoid or panicky or just plain mean and they'd order him out if
they saw him. I'd never do that. I opened my wallet, pulled out two
twenties and handed them over. It didn't make me feel as good as
leaving the tip for Patti because I knew he'd probably just spend it on a
few bottles but when he croaked out a hoarse, "Thanks, brother," I was
glad I' d done it anyway.
Things were loud when I got up to the sixth floor. A couple of tweakers
were there and Kilt was yelling at them. He was usually a pretty laid
back guy but the tweakers bugged him to no end. He' d lost people to
addiction.
"For the last fucking time stay the fuck off my floor with your creepy
fucking games."
The tweakers trembled and held on to each other. I couldn' t tell
whether they were girls or boys.
"But it's important," one of them squeaked.
"Sniffing my fucking couch is fucking important?"
The other tweaker piped up. "We weren't sniffing it. We were counting
the stitches in each cushion to see if the number is identical."
Kilt shook his head and gave them a weary look. "Get lost," he said and
then turned to me. "Eli was just looking for you. Says he needs to know
now if you're in for the race tonight."
I knew which race he was talking about. This pair of obnoxious
brothers with the last name Carpetti owned an Italian restaurant in Las
Vegas. They sauntered into town every few months trying to crack the
Phoenix street scene with whatever ride they've recently pimped out.
They were soft though; soft guts and soft spines. I could have told them
what their problem was if they' d asked. Their problem wasn' t

what they drove but who was driving. Didn't matter which one of them
took the wheel. They were too tentative and no one ever won any race
by attacking the gas pedal with a light touch. It would be easy money
for a few minutes of straight driving that I could yawn my way through
and still win.
Eli was slow about answering my text when I told him I was in for
tonight so I headed to my room. My imagination might have been
working overtime but it seemed like the flowery scent of Roslyn' s
perfume was everywhere. My dick hardened in response as a flood of
images teased me; long auburn curls, epic tits, sleek thighs.
I groaned and got my hand down my pants. Usually I couldn't get
through a whole day without jacking off at least once and I might as
well steal this moment while I waited for freaking Eli to tell me if the
race was on or off tonight. I stroked my dick and closed my eyes,
thinking about fiery brown eyes issuing a dare never spoken aloud by
soft red lips. It had been quick and crazy but I'd be hard pressed to
remember a time when I'd wanted anyone so much or come so hard I
almost couldn't stand.
Shit.
I bolted upright, my dick falling right out of my hand.
Of course I hadn't forgotten in the last two hours that for the first time
in my irresponsible life I'd fucked without a condom but I'd managed to
avoid dealing with it. Even back in ancient times - before I fell for Erin
and learned sex wasn't everything - when I was nothing but a set of
adolescent hormones on the hunt I'd always (fucking always!) kept the
little troublemaker wrapped up no matter what. It was probably the
only thing I' d ever been vigilant about.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my pants open when Eli
decided to bust into my room without knocking.
"Get out!" I growled.
He laughed, then shrugged and headed back the way he came. "Flag
goes down at nine o'clock, Con." "Fine."
Eli looked over his shoulder, his shaggy black hair hiding his eyes. "So
you' re in?"

"Already said so, didn't I?"
"Good, I'll make the call. You need to give me a thousand though."
"I'll give you a fucking concussion."
Eli pushed his hair out of his face and looked me over. "What are you,
on the rag? Kilt said you seemed all bent out of shape over that piece of
cherry pie you were dry humping on the couch last night."
I crossed my arms and gave him my deadliest glare. Nothing was
sacred to these assholes. Then again, I couldn't blame them. They'd
seen me at my worst and in a lot of ways they knew exactly what I was
like.
"I'll just let you be," Eli said quickly and closed the door, which was
really the healthiest option for him right now.
Some more time passed while I brooded alone over memories and
worries. Roslyn didn't seem like the type to be all fast and loose but that
was part of the problem. She might have no reason to be on a steady
birth control regimen.
"You fucking idiot," I muttered to myself, echoing my earlier thoughts.
There was nothing so terrifying at the moment as some red-faced little
human shooting into the world and trying to call me daddy. A lot of the
guys I knew spread their seed around like it was no big deal. Hell, Eli
had two kids with two different women. I loved the guy but he was a
damn fool. That was not a responsibility I would ever take lightly. It
probably wouldn't be one I'd ever deserve.
I zipped up and forced the idea out of my head. There was almost
definitely nothing to worry about. Not every sperm met every egg.
There'd be a lot more people running around the planet otherwise.
As for Roslyn, I was wishing pretty hard I hadn't acted like a cocky
piece of shit and let her drive away. Sure, it was true that I'd punched
my number into her phone in the hopes she'd call but Roslyn was
probably the kind of girl who expected that the guy would call her. And
I should. It should be me who made the move, who offered to take her
out to dinner or something. We'd gone about this thing a little
backwards so far but that didn't mean we couldn't go back to the
starting line. I

could open doors, pull out her chair, order a fancy bottle of wine. Kind
of like couples did in television shows and movies. Strangely enough, I
wanted to do all that. It's not that I had delusions we were going to fall
madly in love and buy a house next to Stone and Evie. Honestly, I
doubted I had the ability to fall in love ever again.
But I still wanted Roslyn to look at me with something other than
suspicion. I wanted her to at least like me. I also wouldn't mind taking
her back to bed and going at things a lot slower than we had this
morning.
Yeah, I'd be calling her and if the guys wanted to harass me about it
then I didn't care. I couldn't call just yet though. Not today, and
probably not tomorrow either. That would seem weird and overeager.
I checked my phone. There were a lot of hours left before the race
tonight and I had no plans. Even though I'd told Jackson the
abbreviated version of my history with Roslyn, there was only one
person I could think of who would understand without me having to lay
it all out on the table. There was one man who would never bust my
chops about being confused over finding a girl who might turn out to
mean something to me.
Stone answered on the first ring. "Con-man!"
I smiled. "What are you up to today?"
"Not a damn thing. Evie is dress shopping with her gal pals and I wasn't
invited."
"Did you want to be? They probably don't carry your size." "Funny."
"Yeah, I'm a riot."
He paused. "Come over."
"You sure?"
"Hell yeah I' m sure. Why would you even ask that? We' ll order pizzas
and wings and I can spend all afternoon wiping the floor with your ass
in Blood Combat."
"I can't believe you play that stupid game."
"I can't believe you don't."
"Sounds great. I'll be there in half an hour."
As I grabbed my keys I started to feel a little sorry that I'd agreed

to race tonight. I'd have to avoid mentioning it to Stone because he
thought I didn't race anymore. If he knew otherwise he'd get all sad and
worried and probably prowl the streets of Phoenix later to hunt me
down and talk me out of it.
"Be back later," I called to Kilt, who strangely enough was now avidly
watching the tweakers as they counted the sofa stitching and called out
numbers. He ignored me.
Fingers was gone and the lobby was empty. My mind was distracted
but I jumped and ran to the door when I thought I saw a long-legged
redhead pass by. Even before I made it over there though I saw the girl
on the other side of the glass was dark-haired and fuller figured. The
street view was just distorted by the dirty, broken glass. That girl wasn't
Roslyn. I wouldn't be running into another girl like Roslyn anytime
soon.

CHAPTER TEN
ROSLYN
Why didn' t I just delete it? Why did I keep scrolling through my phone'
s contact list to make sure it was still there? And why, for the love of
intercourse did an unwitting shiver roll right through me every time I
saw the name Gentry?
That was how he'd entered his name: Gentry.
Not Conway. Not Con Gentry. Just Gentry.
He hadn' t been lying about snapping a selfie on my phone but it wasn't
the dick pic he'd been teasing about before we went our separate ways
in the parking garage. He was smiling in the close up headshot.
Surprisingly, there was nothing of the arrogant leer I've seen from him
a few times. It was just a plain, honest smile that hurt my heart a little
every time I looked at it.
And I looked at it a lot.
We'll talk. That's what he'd said. Two weeks ago.
Emily was perplexed, telling me to just cave and call him but pride was
a fickle asset and I had my fair share of it. In fact with each day that
passed the whole night had seemed more like a bizarre dream than a
real memory.
It had been real though. Dreams weren't in the habit of sending you to
the local drugstore to casually purchase the morning after pill. I didn't
take birth control pills regularly since they just weren't worth the
frequent migraines I suffered as a side effect. And since I hadn't had sex
in over a year there wasn't any good reason to carry condoms around in
my purse.
But even if I had kept my wallet crammed full of Trojans I wouldn't
have had the presence of mind to go scrambling for one when Conway
touched me. There was a dangerous level of electricity between us and
I was just a quivering goner in its wake. It had been a

mistake, a thoughtless sexual exploit with a man I barely knew and
couldn't possibly have a future with.
No matter how much I might end up liking him.
Yes, that was the problem.
In spite of the fact that we might not have a thing in common other than
mutual tragedy and some serious physical chemistry, I liked Conway.
So many days had passed and I still couldn't forget the strength of his
arms around me or how well I slept in his embrace. I couldn' t forget the
pleading note in his voice when he whispered "Stay" or the way he
tucked the bed covers around me. Those things were on my mind and I
couldn't make them disappear. Plus visions of our epic upright screw
fest were an extra distraction.
"Crimson suits you, doll," called Gustavo when he walked past my
desk.
"What?" I'd been staring at my cubicle wall and remembering dirty fun
things, like the sound of Conway's groan when he came.
Gurstavo paused and did an about face, primly settling his lanky body
into one of the thin metallic chairs on the other side of my desk. He
propped his elbows up and tented his fingers, studying me. Gustavo
Hernandez was the contemporary art curator at the museum on Central
Avenue. He'd been a volunteer at Homestead for years, having
designed an innovative mixed media art program for the kids. We were
friends. You couldn't not be friends with Gustavo. He was a
charismatic force of nature.
He stared at me for a moment and then nodded. "You are out of focus."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm focused."
"I think not. You walked right past me yesterday morning and didn' t
even blink when I greeted you with delight. But now, as I observe you
up close in all your glassy-eyed idiocy, I understand. Somewhere
there's a boy to thank for that blush."
I cleared my throat. "So how are Albert and Delia? She must be getting
big and you haven't brought her by in ages."
He tilted his head slightly and smiled. "Albert is always a dream and by
the way, I'll be sending you a save the date card for our wedding

on August fifteenth. Delia is trying to crawl and gain some
independence from her overly doting fathers. Stop trying to change the
conversation though when we were discussing something important. "
"We were? What was it?
"Your love life." "I don't have one."
"No?" He reached over and flattened his palm to my forehead like he
was checking my temperature. His touch felt cool, which probably
meant my face was hot. It felt hot.
He withdrew and sat back in his chair with a nod of satisfaction.
"Roslyn, did I ever mention to you how I worked my way through
college?"
"No, but now I'm afraid to ask." "I was a fortune teller." I laughed.
"You're making that up."
His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no. I called myself
Master G, acquired a Jamaican accent and operated out of my studio
apartment, which I decorated in a medieval brothel theme."
I nodded as if there was nothing even slightly unusual about this.
"Medieval brothel, huh? Popular choice. I've seen countless examples
on HGTV."
He rolled his eyes. "Don't be glib and that's not the end of the story. The
point I was trying to make is that all my dabbling in the mystic arts
honed my less tactile senses. And the sense I'm getting from you is that
there is a boy and I'm betting he's a hell of a specimen to cause you to
spend your days alternately brooding and mentally undressing him."
"Well, it's a good thing you chose a backup career because your
conclusion is not even close," I said airily.
I picked up a pen and pretended to be fascinated with some paperwork
I'd completed three hours earlier and hadn't done anything with for no
good reason other than I was as distracted as Gustavo accused me of
being.
Gustavo watched me for a few seconds, then shrugged, rising from his
chair with a cynical grin.

"My mistake," he said. "Phyllis and I are going to order Thai food for
lunch if you're interested."
"Thanks, but I brought a ham sandwich. By the way, if you want to see
the latest projects from the teen center they're on display in the
cafeteria."
"Are they? Perfect, I'll go take a look, although you don't need to try so
hard to get rid of me. I promise I won't ask you again about Mr.
Mysterious. You can just keep him all to yourself." Gustavo whistled
on his way down the hall.
I flung my pen down, feeling grumpy.
"Mysterious," I muttered. "And not mine."
That was true. It was also true that I didn't even know if I wanted him to
be mine.
I stood up. For today at least I was done pathetically mooning over
some archetypal bad boy. I flew into a whirlwind of productivity,
moving paperwork off my desk, conducting two resident interviews,
and checking in on a few current families, including Krista and her
girls.
It was already five o'clock by the time I remembered I hadn't even
paused to eat my own carefully packed ham sandwich. I grabbed my
insulated Phoenix Art Museum lunch bag out of the fridge, waved
goodbye to whoever was watching and took off, shoving the sandwich
into my mouth en route to my car. Boy, I'd overdone it on that spicy
mustard.
I didn' t really feel like going home. Usually I was grateful for quiet
evenings and good movies but lately I just felt restless. Emily had
mentioned this morning that she had plans with Jackson later. They' d
been out five or six times since that fateful night and Emily looked a
little more daffy and love struck every time I saw her. Honestly, I' d
rather not be hanging out on the couch when Jackson arrived to pick her
up. Nothing against him, but it was awkward. I always wondered if the
looks he gave me were as pitying as they seemed. And then I had to
practically chew my own tongue off to stop myself from asking about
Conway.
It was time to face the truth. If Conway Gentry wanted to see me, he
would have made it happen by now. The fact that I could have

stopped playing the coquettish fool and reached out to him anytime I
wanted was beside the point.
The red light was taking forever. A woman struggled across the
intersection with a double stroller. I watched her as she wrangled the
stroller onto the sidewalk and peered down at her babies before
straightening up and continuing on her way.
Just as the light changed my phone buzzed to life. The ring tone was an
exceptionally shrill one that I'd assigned to my father. After three rings
I finally answered.
"Hi, Dad."
"Hey, princess," he sighed in a voice that possessed as much cheer as
your average cat funeral.
Jefferson Tory wasn't a bad father but a succession of wives,
girlfriends, and other dalliances had occupied his emotions ever since
my mother took off shortly after we left Emblem. As I understood it,
she simply hadn't wanted to be a wife anymore. Or a mother. She took
half the considerable marital assets, moved to Los Angeles, sang in
obscure night clubs and stopped sending cards for my birthday about
five years
ago.
As for me and my dad, we managed okay on our own. He doubled
down on his commercial real estate ventures and luck rained down on
his head. Women came with it and he was remarried within a year. That
one didn't last, nor did the next one, but at least he'd gotten smarter
about prenuptial agreements. We'd always gotten along okay even if
we weren't especially close. I knew he only resorted to terms of
endearment when things were going badly for him so I softened my
voice.
"What' s wrong, Dad? Are you home? I thought you were going to be in
Palm Springs until the end of the month. "
The lavish California enclave had been his second home ever since my
ex-stepmother convinced him to buy a bungalow that had once
belonged to an actress who committed suicide in the master bedroom.
His affection for the house had outlived his affection for that particular
wife and he spent several months a year there, usually towing along
something blonde to occupy him.

"Oh, I' m still here," he said vaguely and I thought I heard the clink of
ice cubes in a glass. He always had a drink in his hand yet he rarely
drank. He would roll the glass around in his fingers until the ice melted,
then dump the contents and start over. "Seems like I'll have to come
back to the valley sooner than I planned though. Destiny got a call for a
modeling job and she flew to New York on Tuesday. And now I' m
hearing that my new, very expensive office manager is making a mess
of the staff so I'll need to return and put on my firing hat."
He went on for ten more minutes about his various daily challenges
while I listened, said appropriate things like, "That sounds terrible,"
and inched through rush hour traffic.
I was nearly home when he got around to asking me a predictable
question.
"Enough about me though. I want to hear what's new with you, honey.
You still at that same job?" I tried not to sigh. "Yes."
He exhaled and rolled his glass of ice around. "Social work will never
pay very well."
"I know, Dad. We've talked about this before."
And we had. Sort of. He had offered his grim speculations about life on
a very average salary and I had avoided pointing out that money had
never exactly solved all of his problems.
He clucked his tongue. "Sure could use your help down at the office,
Roslyn. Lost two of my best agents in the last few months."
"Come on, we both know that there's no shortage of people with far
better qualifications than I have. I wouldn't be good at that kind of
work. After all, I have poor aim when it comes to cutting throats. "
"Don't sell yourself short," he said, my sarcasm wafting right over him.
"You never know what you can accomplish until you try. I' d teach you
everything I know and of course a handsome initial signing bonus
would be on the table."
He kept making his sales pitch as I parked my car, gathered up the ham
sandwich remains and extracted myself from the front seat. He meant
well so I pretended to listen for another minute before politely turning
the offer down. Again. We made plans to have dinner once he

was back in the valley but I knew there was a good chance he'd forget
all about it unless I called him.
Emily wasn't home yet. If I hurried I could change and be on my way
before she appeared and tried to cajole me into doing something
ridiculous, like calling Conway. I'd already made her swear up and
down that she wouldn't utter a word to Jackson. Conway was his buddy
and buddies stuck together. I wouldn't expect anything less.
I decided a movie sounded nice. I had no idea what was playing in the
theaters but I could figure that out along the way. I peeled off my work
clothes and slid on a pair of yoga pants with a shapeless grey t-shirt that
I usually wore to bed. After tying my long hair up into a messy bun I
paused in front of the hallway mirror and concluded I looked perfectly
unapproachable, which suited me just fine.
Once I was back in my car and on the road again I headed toward the
east valley with its collection of neat stucco subdivisions and sprawling
shopping malls, finally pulling into a colorful retail palace a few miles
from the university. There was a sizeable movie theater on the north
end of the mall and by the time I got the car parked I was feeling pretty
cheerful about spending an evening out on my own.
As I waited on the short line to buy tickets I squinted at the red lettered
menu of choices but nothing stood out. I decided to just chance it and
told the cashier to give me a ticket for whatever was showing next. I' ve
always loved going to the movies, ever since I was little. In high school
I used to ditch class at least twice a month and sneak over to a tiny
theater in central Scottsdale that showed obscure indie flicks where
there would be maybe six people in the audience at any given time and
several of those would be passed out. When I heard that the place had
closed down a few years back I was unsurprised but sad.
This was a big theater, the kind with stadium seating and several dozen
screens that played the latest guns and superhero blockbusters. I
glanced at my ticket, expecting that I'd scored entry to Razor Man's
Revenge or something but instead I was about to step into something
called Love Wings.
Now I regretted not making a choice at the ticket counter. Love stories
were kind of a thing with me (oh, the angst, the tortured

romance!) but I wasn't in a very happily ever after frame of mind at the
moment. For a minute I considered switching my ticket to something
less emotional, more explosive, but then I thought I remembered
hearing the movie was actually a romantic comedy so I figured maybe
it would be all right.
The ham sandwich hadn't really hit the spot and my stomach growled
so I paused at the refreshment counter where I managed to drop twenty
bucks on empty calories and caffeine in eight seconds.
Oh well. The tub of popcorn, giant soda and box of Junior Mints would
just have to serve as dinner and I'd make up for it by waking up early
tomorrow to work out. Back in my dancing days it had been so easy to
stay in shape. After nearly a decade of dedication - five days a week
plus Saturdays, recitals, events, endless practices - I'd quit a few
months before my senior year of high school.
Less than fifteen minutes of the movie passed before I realized I'd
gotten the romantic comedy idea totally wrong. The main characters
were college sweethearts who reconnected ten years later when the
woman, now a no-nonsense career-driven doctor, wound up treating
her old boyfriend who was afflicted with Hodgkin's Disease.
Oh, and he had a little girl whose mother died in a car accident two
years earlier when she was sideswiped by a drunk driver on her way
home from her kindergarten teaching job.
Talk about a tearjerker. I was a mess by the time the credits rolled.
There weren't enough stiff napkins in the world to mop this mess up.
After I stopped in the restroom and cleaned up a little I wandered
outside the theater. A large courtyard separated the movie theater from
the rest of the open air mall. The scenery had changed rather
dramatically since I went indoors two hours earlier. It was now dark
and a faint breeze tickled my neck. Plus the Friday night crowd had
descended. The courtyard was crawling with groups of teenagers
batting their phones around like weapons, hand holding couples
wearing perpetual smiles and clusters of children being marched
around by resolute parents.
A group of teens eyeballed me when I plunked down on the ledge

of a colorful tile fountain. I waved, realizing that I might seem like a
virtual antique to them. I clearly remembered being their age, hanging
out at the mall with Erin, talking about boys and life and nothing in
particular.
It wasn't so long ago and yet it was. The sixteen year old me would
have considered a twenty three year old woman as some exotic species
filled with shadowy experiences. Since the kids were still just gawking
at me I stopped waving but a striking young girl with long dark hair
smiled and waved back.
While I'd been weeping in the theater Emily had texted me a photo of
her fondue plate, which appeared to be a variety of food items lavishly
dipped in chocolate. I could see Jackson laughing on the other side of
the table.
Also, my ex-boyfriend had sent one of those annoying 'What's up?'
texts.
Caleb was in the habit of doing that about once a month. The funny
thing was that if you were to meet Caleb in person the words ' What' s
up?' would seem outside his vocabulary. He was polished and carefully
groomed and liked to show off his valuable prep school education,
none of which made him a very 'What's up?' kind of fellow.
We were on polite terms so usually I called him back and talked civilly
about things that didn't matter until I found a reason to end the call. But
the last time we talked things had gotten a little strange. Caleb had
blurted out an offer to fly me to Asheville so I could be his date at his
sister's wedding. I never considered accepting. While Caleb was great
to look at and okay in bed and would never ever use profanity in the
company of a lady, I just didn't feel much of a connection with him. I
never had.
I set my phone down on the ledge. The teenagers had already jumped
up and were heading in the opposite direction. I saw the girl who had
waved at me. She traveled piggy-back style on the back of boy about
her age, a boy with dark blonde hair and a loud, distinctive laugh.
Suddenly I felt lonely. That recent cinematic tragedy might have been
partly to blame. My nose still felt stuffy from all the crying. Being that
I was all lonely and stuffed up and sitting beside a

mall fountain in my grey yoga pants I decided to call Caleb after all. He
was a decent guy, he'd be glad to hear from me and we were still
friends. Sort of.
After two rings the call was picked up and a deep, amused voice said,
"Hey you."
I paused. Caleb didn't have a deep voice. More of a nasal whine than
anything else, Caleb's voice was perhaps his most unfortunate feature.
"Caleb?" I ventured, wondering if he was just drunk. A chuckle. "Don't
tell me you forgot my name." Oh. My. God.
What the hell? Did that sneaky bastard revise my contact list and erase
Caleb's number, replacing it with his own?
No, that didn't make any sense. I'd never even mentioned Caleb to him.
At least I didn't think I did.
Slowly I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared in horror. Yes.
There was his name, just as he'd entered it. Gentry. It proved my
unfaithful fingers had actually done the work of pulling it up and
pressing the call icon.
There had to be some kind of psychological name for this, a Freudian
slip or whatever.
No, that had something to do with sex. This didn't have anything to do
with sex.
"Roslyn?" Conway called as if from far away.
I moved the phone back to my ear cautiously, like it might bite me.
"Conway! " I said too brightly, too loudly. "Oh hi. I' m so sorry. I must
have butt dialed you." I winced over the lie.
"Does that mean you don't want to talk to me?"
"Well I'm kind of busy right now."
"Yeah? What are you doing?"
"I'm just busy."
He sighed on the other end. Not a soft sigh, a deep sigh of exasperation.
I expected him to come back with some smart ass comment.
"Look," he said. "I kept meaning to call or stop by."

"How could you stop by?" I said, rather sharply. "You don't know
where I live."
"Roslyn," he said and cleared his throat. "I'm just going to put it all on
the table here. If you're really busy I'll let you go but if not, well, I' d
really like to see you."
"Now?"
"Or later. Or tomorrow. Whatever you want. But now's good for me if
it' s good for you."
"I'm not home. I'm at Desert Springs Mall in Tempe."
"Ah, well it' s practically a date with destiny in that case since I' m
about five miles away. "
I frowned. "Are you really?"
"I wouldn't lie to you, Roslyn."
There he goes again. Every time he says my name my heart flips over. I
inhaled. I exhaled. I silently begged my voice to sound as nonchalant as
humanly possible.
"Okay, well if you're just a few miles away I'll wait. I'm sitting at the
fountain by the theater. "
"Perfect, I know exactly where it is." He paused. "We'll have fun,
okay? I'll take you out wherever you want to go. No games, I swear."
I smiled. "That might get expensive." "I can cover it." "If you insist." "I
do."
I glanced down at my ensemble. "I should warn you I'm not exactly all
dolled up right now." "I'll forgive you." "Very funny." "Roslyn."
Another heart spasm. I closed my eyes. "What?" "I' m really glad you
called." "Great. I'll see you soon." "Yes, you will. Ten minutes."
I hung up the phone and exhaled shakily. What the hell does this

guy do to me?
Anything he wants.
I thought about dashing to the restroom and doing what little could be
done to fancy myself up a little. I wasn't really date material at the
moment. At least I could shake out my hair and rub some lip gloss on.
But I didn't. Instead I stubbornly stayed put with my purse in my lap,
clutching the stone ledge as my mind tried to recall tai chi breathing
methods.
When Conway arrived he would find me perched here in in my
pajamas, plain-faced and messy-haired and that was just going to have
to be good enough.
He had estimated accurately. Barely ten minutes had passed and I was
busy trying not to examine distant male figures too closely when I saw
him. He walked rapidly with his head down and as he drew closer I saw
his hair was more heavily streaked with blonde than it had been two
weeks ago. When he looked up an instant smile lit up his face
magnificently.
I folded my hands in my lap and waited while his long legs closed the
distance between us. He'd done a splendid job of getting even hotter in
the past two weeks. It took everything I had not to chuck my dignity
into the fountain and run to him.
He paused right in front of me and suddenly looked uncertain.
"Hi," he said.
I swallowed. "Hi, Conway."
He cocked his head slightly and studied me. I couldn't really read the
look in his eyes but there didn't seem to be any insults there. Maybe he
was just surprised to find me so, well, understated.
"I warned you," I said defiantly.
He raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"On the phone. I warned you I wasn't exactly a glamour queen tonight."
He didn' t reply immediately. He stared for another few seconds, then
abruptly sat down right beside me, close enough to feel the heat of his
right thigh.
"Honestly," he said quietly, "I don't think I've ever seen you look

better than you do right now."
I elbowed him, snorting. "Get real."
"Roslyn?" "What?"
"Did I blow it? With you, I mean. With us. Did I?" He was completely
serious, staring down at his lap with a solemn frown.
Us?
I was so stunned I couldn' t even answer right away. These last two
weeks I' d been thinking he was just a callous player who' d gotten what
he wanted and moved on. I didn' t quite know how to handle this new
man, this bashful, earnest man who seemed afraid of my answer. His
eyes searched mine like they were hoping to find what they were
looking for. Slowly he reached over and touched my cheek and I swear
to god every living cell in my body responded with an ardent plea for
more, for all of it, for everything.
"I'll make it up to you," he whispered but it wasn't a sexy promise. It
was an appeal for something else. Conway was asking me to see a side
of him that he probably didn't allow to surface very often.
I reached up and pressed his hand against my cheek. I didn't know what
this was between us but it was powerful. When I pulled his hand away
and kissed the open palm I heard his sharp intake of breath.
"You didn't blow it," I told him and laced our fingers together. "But you
can make it up to me anyway."
He smiled.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
CONWAY
The day had gotten off to a strange start.
First thing this morning I found a kid picking through the trash bin in
the lobby.
Not a little kid - closer to a man than a kid - but still young enough that
life hadn't made him hard yet despite the wariness in his eyes.
I'd been on my way out, thinking I'd drive up to Flagstaff or something
and celebrate two weekends of lucrative race winnings but seeing that
scared kid rooting around in a wire trash can in search of scraps made
me change my mind. He jumped at the sound of my voice and
cautiously said his name was Ranger. To me that sounded like a lie that
he'd made up on the spot but it wasn't important. Once I swore I wasn't
a pimp or a dealer or a secret government agent he loosened up and let
me buy him breakfast. Even Kilt couldn't shove food down as fast as
this poor kid. I found myself really feeling sorry for him after a more
thorough appraisal told me he wasn't quite making it on the streets. He
was skinny and nervous and plainly tired. When I mentioned that I
knew of an extra room he could have if he would just help with some
housekeeping work around the hotel because the tweakers were really
making a mess of things he almost dropped his milk glass in shock. He
recovered, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at me
with a little suspicion.
"Why would you do that for me?"
I shrugged. "I'm feeling generous today."
When he still seemed unconvinced I tried again, choosing my words
carefully. "Look, Ranger, I' m not really doing you a favor. I' m just
sick of living in a pigsty and anyway the owner's been making noises
about shoving the lot of us out and selling the place so it's in my best
interest to get it looking a little nicer."

He thought about it. "If it's a pigsty why do you want to stay there
so bad?"
"I like it there."
He grinned. "I used to help my dad out when I was a kid so I know how
to fix things. "
"Yeah? Was he a handy man or something?"
The grin fell away. "No. He was the janitor at a high school."
I didn' t miss the fact that he referred to his father in the past tense or
that he didn' t seem to want to elaborate. Whatever his story was, he
would fit right into the motley collection of humanity that ran around
the San Gabriel.
When we got to the sixth floor, Eli was hanging out in the lounge. He
gave me a 'What the fuck' kind of look when I explained about Ranger
but I flipped him off and showed the kid to the room at the end of the
hall.
Then I decided I' d had enough of babysitting today so I handed him a
few hundred bucks and told him to go shopping and get what he
needed. The smile he cracked was so full of gratitude I was afraid he
was going to hug me.
When I felt a twinge of guilt because I realized Ranger was rather
young to be exposed to all the sleazy shit that went on around here, I
brushed it off. If he'd been on the streets for more than a few weeks he'
d probably already seen much worse.
Once I was done being a Good Samaritan and had found my way
outside again I no longer wanted to drive to Flagstaff. The morning was
mostly gone anyway. As I got behind the wheel of my latest Mustang
acquisition my thoughts turned to Roslyn.
What would she be doing now?
It was Friday so she'd probably be sitting behind her desk at that shelter
she worked at and waiting for someone needy to walk through the door
so she could help him.
But hey, at least I had something to talk about with her now. I could call
her and smoothly say, "Guess what? I just rescued this stray teenager
and gave him money and a place to live. That's pretty awesome, right?
Don' t you want to get naked with me now and fall

asleep on my chest all weekend?"
Maybe not. That sounded bad enough in my head. I didn't have much
faith I could turn it into something better out loud.
Stone had been all smiles when I went to his house two weeks ago, told
him I'd met a girl and that I thought I could end up really liking her. He
was always dropping hints and trying to set me up with Evie' s friends
in the hopes that one of them would catch my eye and tempt me to
reach up to the curb.
Then I'd said Roslyn's name and his smile turned to pure shock. He
managed to sweep the shock off his face though and listen closely to
what I had to say. He remembered her, of course, but he didn' t ask any
insulting questions, like whether I was using my dead girlfriend's best
friend as a degenerate way to try and recapture what I'd had with Erin.
I' d already questioned my own intentions and was actually surprised to
find out that I liked Roslyn. I thought about her often and there was
nothing sinister about it. In fact I liked her a lot. Maybe more than I
should.
Since a drive to Flagstaff was no longer appealing and casually
dropping by at Roslyn's work was out of the question, I headed east, out
of the city, no particular destination in mind. The sky was clear and no
clouds of smog hung in the air to obscure the mountains.
I drove all the way out to the Superstitions, exited the car at a roadside
lookout point and just stared at the view for about two hours. This
wasn't a popular spot; there wasn't a lot of room to park and there were
much better ones farther along the twisty mountain road.
Eventually a car with Illinois plates pulled in beside me. Two elderly
couples slowly got out, the men holding protective arms around the
waists of their women as they carefully approached the edge of the
lookout. All of them had to be seventy five years old if they were a day
and the men looked alike enough for me to guess that they were
brothers, especially when they started arguing about how to take a cell
phone photo and Brother A called Brother B a 'meathead'. They made
me wonder if this was what Stone and I had to look forward to
someday. I kind of hoped so. One of the women approached me with a
smile and

handed me a phone, asking if I would take a picture of the four of them.
I could tell she'd been a beauty once and in a quiet way she still was.
The men threw me a look when I told them to say cheese but they
twisted their lips into smiles anyway and I got a really nice shot of the
four of them with the mountains at their backs. The women fussed and
thanked me and then folded themselves back into their Honda Pilot and
drove away.
By that time I was hungry so I drove down to Apache Junction and
grabbed a sandwich at a supermarket deli. It tasted like nothing but salt
and mayonnaise but I ate it anyway. As I made my way back to the
freeway I got the bright idea to go to Tempe and pay a visit Deck, like
I'd promised weeks ago at Stone and Evie's engagement party. Other
than Stone, I hadn't seen any of the Gentrys since that day.
Deck and Cord were equal partners and owners of Scratch, an eclectic
tattoo parlor up by the university. About a year had passed since I'd
been inside, partly because I never had too many reasons to be out this
way. I smiled when I pulled around to the back parking lot and saw
Deck's Harley sitting out there. Family man or not, he was still Deck
Gentry.
Some colossal dude with a crew cut, bulging muscles and army
fatigues was smoking a cigarette in the parking lot. We recognized
each other at the same time and nodded silently. We'd never actually
spoken but I knew he'd worked for Cord and Deck for years.
The storefront was colorfully decorated with an assortment of painted
art that was probably some of Cord's work because he was an
incredible artist. I kept meaning to get some more ink and I've thought
about asking Cord if he'd do the honors but decided that might be
weird.
It wasn't that he wouldn't be willing to do it. He would. But I was in the
habit of keeping Cord and his brothers at a distance, at least in part
because I was afraid I'd let an old family secret slip out. At this point
knowing about me wouldn't do them any good and I couldn't bear to
disappoint any more brothers.
My hand was reaching for the door handle when the thing swung open
and I had to jump back to avoid getting hit. Creed Gentry hadn' t been
looking where he was going and he almost managed to knock me

over as he exited Scratch.
"Oh shit. I'm sorry, man," he said in his deep, rumbling baritone as he
grabbed my arm to keep me in balance. He dropped it immediately.
"Conway."
"Hey, Creed."
I always managed to forget what a big motherfucker he was. He was
right up there on the brawny scale with Kilt. I heard the way his voice
had turned suddenly flat when he said my name.
Creed looked behind him and then back at me. He smiled. Slightly. I
could tell he was trying to be pleasant and that it was an effort. You had
to hand it to Creed; there was absolutely nothing artificial about that
guy.
"So what brings you out here?" he said.
"Just in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by to say hello. What about
you?"
"Managing the new club that opened up over on Mill."
"Which one?"
"Caps Lock."
"You're not singing anymore?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes I still take the stage but going on the road is
out of the question with the family so, ya know. You do what you've
gotta do."
"Well, maybe I'll come down one of these days and pay you a
visit."
He gave me rather a dull, indecipherable look. "Okay." An
uncomfortable moment of silence passed. I jerked my head toward the
doorway of Scratch. "The proud owners inside?"
"Yeah." He coughed once and looked away. "I've got to be on my way
but it was good seeing you. "
As soon as that last syllable was out of his mouth he walked away.
"Bye, Creed," I called, expecting he wouldn't bother to turn around.
He did though. He stopped walking, turned around, looked at me for a
second and then raised his hand with a half-hearted wave.

Deck and Cord were far friendlier. Deck slapped me on the back with a
mile wide grin and Cord greeted me like I was a celebrity. There were
enough artists on staff to handle whatever traffic walked through the
door so the three of us sat in around in Cord's office, joked around and
drank a lot of coffee. They had an easy camaraderie between them and
it was nice just being in their company. I did notice that they were
careful about not asking me too many questions, as if they were afraid I'
d balk and immediately walk out the door. It was my fucking fault that
I'd kept myself apart from them for so long that they felt like they had
to tiptoe around me. It was a sad kind of realization.
All this time, and all these walls of armor I'd built around myself to
keep out the people who cared about me the most. All the ways I've
turned away from any possibility of love.
Why?
So I would never again have to risk the agony of loss?
That was sure proving to be a lonely way to make the years go by.
Deck snapped his fingers in my face and I flinched.
"Sorry," he said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful look. "You
looked like you just got lost there for a few seconds."
"Well, maybe I did." I heaved myself out of the comfortable chair and
both men looked at me curiously. "Don't want to keep you guys from
your work so I should really get going. "
"No rush," Cord shrugged. "I don't hear any screaming so everything
must be going all right out there."
"Talked to Stone yesterday," said Deck. "He mentioned he and Evie
have set the date."
"I heard. October eleventh. And Evie has her heart set on getting
married outside so the ceremony will be at some golf resort out in Gold
Canyon."
"October eleventh," Deck repeated, nodding. Then he stood and
pointed at me in warning. "Just don't let these next six months go by
before we see you again, okay?"
I smiled. "I learned a long time ago that it's always a good idea to take
suggestions from the wise Deck Gentry."
"That's right, kid. 'Cause Deck knows best. Funny, I've been

telling Jenny that same thing for a decade but she still ignores me half
the time." He bobbed his head in Cord's direction. "Speaking of wives,
I thought you were taking off early because yours is having a birthday."
Cord felt around in his back pocket. "What time is it?"
"After five."
"Shit, I better get going." He pulled his phone out, tapped something
out on the screen and then looked up as I was heading out the door.
"Hold on, I' ll walk you out."
I was sure I could find my way to the parking lot on my own but I didn'
t want to be rude so I followed Cord as he said goodbye to his
employees and then headed down a long hallway toward the back door.
"I' m glad you stopped by today," he said cheerfully. "In fact it seems
kind of like fate."
"How so?"
"We were just talking about you this morning." "No wonder my ears
were burning."
"Nah, all good stuff. All the kids were quite taken with you at the
engagement party and my girls have been asking when Cousin Conway
is going to come back and visit."
He pushed the door open and we stepped into the softening light of
early evening.
"They' re all good kids."
"They are. Kind of a handful when you get them all together but we're
one lucky tribe. Hey, that's not your Mustang, is it?" "It is."
"Could have sworn you had a vintage red model." "I still do. This is a
spare."
I wished I hadn't said that because Cord gave me a sharp look. I should
have just told him I'd traded in the old one for a newer model. He didn't
need to know that the pink slip to this one was acquired in a high stakes
race up in Vegas three months back.
Cord looked away. "Must be nice," he said casually. "Having so many
to choose from."
"What can I say? I'm partial to Mustangs."
The man who thought he was my cousin instead of my brother

changed the subject and said something about inviting me over for
dinner real soon. Then he shook my hand, hopped into his truck and
drove away.
Eli had texted three times, asking if I could help him out and be a date
for some friend that belonged to a waitress he was determined to screw.
He tried making his case by promising the friend in question just had
her tits done. I didn't answer. Even if being set up with some mystery
girl didn't remind me of the night I'd spent with Roslyn I wouldn' t be
interested. In the last two weeks I could swear I' d seen Roslyn a dozen
times; at the gas station, in a passing car, hurrying down Central
Avenue on heels. I was always wrong.
At first I was just going to head back into the city but then I changed my
mind and pulled into a coffee shop by the school. The place was full of
fresh-faced college kids who were very serious about their electronic
appendages. They sipped lattes, peered at tiny screens with slack-jawed
fascination and generally ignored each other. There was a time I' d
planned to be among them, hurrying to class with a backpack and
stressing over the next exam. I' d always been an excellent math student
and thought I might study something like engineering. Things just
didn't work out that way though.
After ordering a large black coffee and a pair of scones I settled into a
corner armchair that had just been vacated by a spindly kid who
couldn't be more than eighteen. That made me think of Ranger and
wonder how he was getting on. For a second I felt a twinge of guilt over
leaving him to fend for himself in the wilds of the San Gabriel, but
something told me he was scrappy enough to hold his own, or at least
stay out of the way if he couldn't.
A stack of literary journals were spread out over a nearby table. They
looked untouched and I felt rather sorry that someone had gone to all
the trouble to write and publish things no one seemed interested in
reading. I picked one up and read a poem about a tractor, another one
about John F Kennedy, and then came to a short story about thru hiking
the Appalachian Trail. It was a good story.
I hadn' t realized how much time had gone by as I sat there thumbing
through the journals. I replaced them all carefully, in the same

kind of fanned out formation I'd found them in and hoped someone else
would give them a chance.
Outside the sky was dark and young people milled around everywhere.
After all, this was Friday night less than a mile away from one of the
nation's largest universities. But I was starting to feel a little bit out of
place, kind of like a janitor visiting a country club. It was high time to
head back to my neck of the woods.
My phone had been muted for a while and I was just walking to my car
and ignoring Eli's latest pleading texts when it vibrated as a call came
in. I whipped it out impatiently, expecting to see someone I didn' t
especially want to talk to. I was already planning on hitting the silence
button before one quick look at the screen turned into a double take.
The morning when I'd borrowed her phone and arrogantly programmed
my number into her contact list I'd also made note of her number and
added it to mine. I just didn't tell her that part. I also had a habit of
assigning nicknames to my contacts. Stone was 'Bro' and Jackson was '
Pal' and Eli was ' Dog' and Kilt was just ' Kilt' because I couldn' t think
of anything more fitting for a six foot five bearded leviathan.
But later, after we' d talked and fucked and awkwardly parted, Roslyn
became ' Beaches' .
Now, two weeks later, 'Beaches' was suddenly calling me.
The phone seemed to vibrate in slow motion and my pulse rate
instantly quadrupled. Every day I'd woken up thinking that it would be
the day I'd call her, or else she'd call me.
Yet every day neither thing happened and I started to wonder if it
would be better if we were over before we really started. There was too
much to talk about that we hadn't even touched on yet and I had the
dark suspicion that I could wind up feeling about Roslyn in a way that I
hadn' t thought about a girl in years. Somehow that seemed like an
unhealthy destination for both of us.
"Hey you," I said into the phone, as cool and collected as you please.
"Caleb?" she said and I scowled, realizing right away she probably
hadn' t meant to call me at all. But determination took over. Now that I

had her voice in my ear I wasn't going to give up until she agreed to see
me.
Less than five minutes later I was on my way to the Desert Springs
mall, traveling exactly at the speed limit for once because I really didn'
t want to get pulled over. I'd promised her I'd be there in ten minutes
and I couldn't let anything get in the way.
My heart was getting a workout in my chest as I parked the car at the
mall and walked in the direction of the movie theater.
Am I really nervous? I can't be fucking nervous.
Under normal circumstances I got nervous about as much as I baked
cupcakes, which was just about never. I was afraid to look up, afraid
she wouldn't be there, afraid I'd screwed up a chance with the only girl
who'd managed to make a dent in my heart in a very long time.
I looked up and there she was, calmly watching me in old sloppy
clothes, hair in a loose topknot, a radiant natural beauty who could
compete with the sun without even trying.
Why the hell didn 't I call??
It didn't matter at this point. I wouldn't fuck this up again. All she had to
do was give me a chance.

CHAPTER TWELVE
ROSLYN
I wouldn't have guessed Conway was the kind of man who would stroll
around holding hands but after I took his hand he pulled me off the
fountain ledge and didn't let go. It was sweet, wandering around at a
slow pace with our fingers intertwined as we paused to buy a couple of
iced lemonades and then kept walking.
At first I felt shy, younger and more tentative than I had in years, as if I
was one of the giddy teens I'd been watching earlier. Conway kept
asking me questions though, questions about my job, my apartment,
my friends.
We were passing a pizzeria when the mouth-watering smell hit me full
force and my stomach groaned. Apparently candy and popcorn did not
constitute a satisfying meal.
"God, that smells good," I remarked.
Conway squinted into the dark window of the pizza place. "You
hungry? I could stand to eat myself." He gave my hand a small squeeze.
"I'm buying. How about it?"
The patrons were mostly clustered around the bar watching a baseball
game. The waitress tried to seat us at a table in the middle of the
restaurant but Conway shook his head, dangled a twenty dollar bill and
pointed to an empty corner booth.
"So am I remembering wrong or did you tell me you' ve been back in
Arizona for a year?" Conway said a few minutes later after the waitress
dropped off a pair of waters and took our order.
"Yup. I thought about staying back east but it just never seemed like
home. My dad's here and even though we're not that close he's the only
family I've got left."
Conway nodded. "Your parents are divorced, right?"
"Have been since I was a kid. I haven't seen my mother in

years. No siblings, no aunts or uncles and the last of my grandparents
died when I was in high school. "
Conway was running his index finger along the glass rim of a
candleholder in the center of the table. He wasn't looking at me but I
didn' t doubt that I had his attention.
"What about your family?" I asked carefully and he stopped toying
with the candle.
"Well," he said slowly, "my father's dead and my mother's somewhere
in Florida but doesn' t like to remember she has sons. " He cheered up
suddenly. "I've got Stone though. And my cousins."
"Ah, the infamous Gentry triplets. I heard they were somewhere here in
the valley."
"They are. Deck too."
"Deck Gentry? Wow, I haven't heard that name in years. I have vivid
memories of seeing him around town when I was a little kid. He was
always on his motorcycle, tearing up the dirt along the canal that ran
behind my house. Used to piss my father off to no end."
Conway laughed. "That's Deck."
"So there must not be too many Gentrys left in Emblem at this point."
"There are a few. Distant cousins and such living way outside town."
"That's good. After all, what's Emblem without the Gentrys?"
Conway leaned back in his seat and frowned. "It's still Emblem."
All this talk about our hometown seemed to have shifted something in
the air between us. I wondered whether I ought to change the subject
but there were still some things we needed to get out into the open.
I took a sip of water and set the glass down. Conway looked like he was
waiting patiently for me to say something.
"I got a letter from Stone," I said quietly, lowering my eyes. "Years
ago, I mean. When he was in prison. He wanted to tell his side of the
story, that it had really been an accident and not a reckless drag race."
"I know."
I looked up. "He told you already?"

Conway nodded. "Not at the time. In fact you might not know this but
we actually didn't see or speak to one another for four years." He
grimaced. "It was my fault. I thought he and Erin had..."
Conway's voice kind of died and his shoulders dropped. I already knew
this part. I'd heard the rumors and Stone had explained it in his long ago
letter. Nonetheless I felt fury building in defense of my friend.
"She would NEVER!" I shouted, banging my fist on the table.
A few nearby people glanced over in surprise.
Conway looked stunned. "Roslyn."
I stood, glaring down at him. "Damn you, Erin would NEVER have
betrayed you. "
Shame was written all over his face.
"I know that," he said. "I do. I should have known it then but I found the
two of them together and I just couldn't think so I ran. From her. From
him. A few hours later it was too late and at least ten thousand times
over the last six years I've wondered how things would have gone if I
hadn't run from them." He screwed his eyes shut and when he opened
them I saw how he blinked back tears. "I loved that
girl."
I slid miserably back into my seat. "I did too. She was the best friend I'll
ever have." "I still miss her." "So do I. Always will."
He sighed. "I have no doubt. You know, I used to think she had some
guardian angel who visited and left those little gifts at her grave, but
now I know it' s you." He reached over so suddenly I couldn' t even
react and touched the chain around my neck. A strange expression
touched his lips but he didn' t look unhappy, only wistful. "I remember
when she bought this. " It s you.
That's what he'd meant when he'd uttered those words, right before
ending a moment of powerful passion and retreating from me. He'd
seen this, the crystal Erin had given me for my seventeenth birthday
only weeks before her death and suddenly he had remembered being
young, being in love, being destroyed.

The waitress returned with the pepperoni pizza we ordered. She looked
curiously at our twin faces of misery and scurried away, probably
figuring we were in the midst of a messy breakup or something.
I took a slice of pizza even though I wasn't all that hungry anymore. A
few drops of grease spilled onto the white china plate and I mopped it
up with a napkin. I needed to ask a question. A question I wasn't sure I
wanted to hear the answer to.
He was watching me and I held his gaze. No matter what his answer
was it was best to face it honestly and face it now.
"Is that all there is between us, Conway? Some grim attachment to the
past, a way to reclaim something we've both lost?"
He was shaking his head before I even finished speaking. He gently
touched my hand, never looking away.
"No," he said firmly. "That's not all there is between us. I know it, and
so do you."
Conway was right. I already did know. The connection between us was
both inexplicable and substantial. Maybe the initial spark had been
born from our old common ground but it wasn't limited to that.
Otherwise I would have had a much easier time pushing him out of my
mind these past two weeks.
Conway pressed my hand to his lips. "I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?"
"For not calling."
"Oh. Well in that case, I'm sorry for not calling too." I paused. "I' m
going to make feminists all over the world right now cringe and admit
that I thought about you way too often and even considered taking a
stroll past your hotel in the hopes I' d accidentally run into you."
He smiled. "What's the male equivalent of a feminist?" "I don't think
there is one."
"Well, then I guess I don't have to worry about disappointing anyone
when I admit that I haven't been able to look at another woman for the
last two weeks. And you know what? I don't even want to."
I was glad to be sitting down because hearing him say those words
made me dangerously dizzy. When he'd kissed my hand I'd felt that

touch in places I couldn't acknowledge in public. And the look he was
giving me now. just intensity on top of intensity. I could hardly
breathe in the face of it. "What now?" I asked.
He grabbed a slice of pizza and slid it onto his plate. "Now we should
eat this before it gets cold."
I laughed and sprinkled a generous dose of parmesan cheese over my
pizza before taking a bite. The conversation turned to lighter topics. I
learned that Conway had known Jackson for years and thought very
highly of him. He made me promise not to tell Emily that his friend was
wild about her and I snorted that Emily had likely already guessed that.
He regaled me with tales of his other wild friends too, although I got
the feeling he was sharply downplaying whatever role he had in their
various exploits. I wasn't fooled. I had guessed from that first party that
Conway had evolved into a full blown bad boy and although that might
be true, he wasn't all bad boy. Not unless they were all funny, smart,
and thoughtful and I'd just never gotten close enough to find out.
We were on our second pizza when my phone buzzed. I glanced at it
and quickly put it down.
"I don't mind if you take a call," Conway said as he watched my every
move. "Unless it's some dude."
"So what if it is?"
He grinned. "Then I mind very much. The only demand I have is that
when you're with me, you think of me as the only man on earth."
I rolled my eyes. "Well that's not unreasonable at all." My phone had
stopped buzzing by this point. I shrugged. "It was just my ex. He texted
me earlier and I didn't answer so he's just being pushy."
"Oh, an ex." Conway put a finger to his lips and pretended to think.
"Would that be Caleb by any chance?"
My face got hot as I recalled the misdial that had kicked off the night.
Conway was sitting there with that old arrogant smirk on his face. He
probably didn't even believe it had been an accident when I called him.
Actually, I wasn't even sure that I believed it had really been an
accident.

"Do you still like him?" he asked suddenly.
"Who, Caleb?"
"No. Clint Eastwood."
I mulled that over. "He's all right. But I stayed with him for too long.
By the time I broke it off I'd known for a long time there wasn't much
chemistry between us and there's no substitute for chemistry. Where
are you going?"
While I was talking Conway had slid out of his seat and was now
standing beside the table. Instead of answering my question he reached
down, pulled me to him until we were both standing with our bodies
pressed together and before I had a chance to ask anything else he
kissed me. Hard. Furious. A storm that broke without warning and
changed everything it touched.
His hand was in my hair, tugging it free of the loose bun I' d tied up
hours earlier. Another hand slipped underneath my shirt and stroked
the small of my back. My own arms automatically slipped around his
shoulders to bring him closer as our mouths took revenge on each
other. When he rolled his hips I could feel every bit of the hard urgency
just on the other side and I almost moaned.
Dimly I was aware that this sudden make out session wasn' t occurring
in private but I didn't care.
After a few more seconds Conway broke away and gave me a knowing
look while I tried to remember how to stand up straight all on my own.
"You mean chemistry like that?" he said.
"Yeah," I whispered, trying to control my own panting. "Like
that."
He plucked some green out of his wallet and tossed it down on the
table. "I think we're done with this place. Let's go."
If I'd protested he would have politely stayed but I kind of liked the way
he put a firm arm around my waist and led me out of the restaurant.
Once we were outside I half expected he would lead me to the nearest
dark corner and continue what we'd started but he didn't. He whistled
lightly as he held my hand while the lights of the mall began to dim.

"Looks like they're shutting down for the night," he said. I glanced at
my watch. "We were in there a long time. I didn't realize it was so late."
"Come on, I'm parked out this way." "Wait." I pulled on his hand. He
stopped and faced me. "What?" "Where are we going?"
"That's up to you, Roslyn. Remember, I told you I'd take you anywhere
you wanted to go tonight and the night is pretty far from over. " "I don't
know where I want to go."
Liar liar. I know where I want to go. And I know exactly what I want to
do there.
Conway stared at me for a few seconds and then a slow smile spread
across his face. I cursed myself for being so easy to see through. If he
had any doubts about my thoughts, that wanton response to our
face-sucking assembly in the restaurant had surely ended them.
He took a step forward and cupped my face in his strong hands. "So
does this mean you're leaving our next destination up to
me?"
"Why, do you have an idea where you want to take me?" A leading
question if ever there was one.
His thumb grazed my lips. "Oh honey, I know exactly where I want to
take you."
We stared at each other, breathing heavily as the meaning behind those
words sunk in.
"Then take me there, Conway." I impulsively kissed him, lingering for
an erotic second as our tongues touched.
He shifted and closed his eyes, letting out a strange noise in the back of
his throat. Then he led me over to a beautiful blue sports car. I didn' t
know much about cars but I was impressed.
"This can' t be yours," I said, running my fingers along the smooth
surface of the hood.
He opened the door. "I can show you some paperwork that says it is. It's
there in the glove compartment."
"Wait, what about my car?"

"It'll be all right overnight. They don't tow here unless you leave it
more than twenty four hours. " "And what if you're wrong?"
He shrugged. "If I'm wrong I'll do whatever it takes to get your car back
or hand you a new one."
The inside of his car smelled like beer and cigar smoke. Conway
climbed into the driver's seat, told me to put my seatbelt on and drove
out of the mall.
I twisted around in confusion when he got on the freeway. "I think you
took the wrong ramp. " "No I didn't."
"Phoenix is the other way, Con." "We're not going back to Phoenix,
Roe."
I frowned. I'd just assumed we were going back to his room at the hotel.
Or else maybe my apartment. But we weren't heading in that direction
at all.
I crossed my arms. "Okay, no bullshit, you need to tell me where we're
going right now."
He looked over and gave me a boyish, happy smile. "I wanted it to be a
surprise. I'm taking you to the beach."
"What beach? We' re in a landlocked desert. There are no beaches for
three hundred miles."
"Closer to four hundred where we're headed. It's this quiet beach
outside San Diego. If I'm timing it right though, we should be there in
time to watch the sun come up."
My mouth fell open. "You're serious."
"Not often, but this time I am."
"You're really going to drive all night just to take me to the beach."
"Yes."
"Conway, I can' t just suddenly leave the state like this."
"Sure you can. Tomorrow is Saturday and you've already said you don'
t work weekends."
I looked out the window, at all the inky black miles of highway that lay
ahead.

"Why?" I asked quietly.
He touched my cheek. He didn't answer until I faced him. "Because you
love oceans," he said simply. "You told me so, remember?"
"I remember," I mumbled. I tried to think of something else to say but
came up short.
Conway reached into the backseat and pulled out a blanket. Apparently
he slept in his car now and then. He told me that I should take a nap if I
was tired. The drive to San Diego would take about six hours but we
should make it there before sunrise.
Fifteen or twenty minutes passed and finally I unfolded the blanket. It
smelled a little musty but was soft. I sneaked a glance over at Conway.
He had one hand lightly on the wheel and the other hand was loosely on
his lips as if he was deep in thought. As the shadows played across his
profile, the sheer strong-jawed beauty of him almost took my breath
away.
"Conway?" I said.
"Yeah?"
I unbuckled my seatbelt, leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank
you."
He didn't answer and I didn't look his way as I buckled back in and
tucked the blanket around myself.
Finding a bed so we could screw the night away was one thing and even
though it would have been incredible and mind blowing and amazing it
wasn't this.
This was something entirely different.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CONWAY
I hadn't planned on this road trip but then again I'm not exactly a
planner. As we were hanging out at the pizzeria my dick kept
interfering with my more chivalrous side and I couldn't help but
wonder about the best way to get Roslyn naked even as I wanted to
prove to her that I didn't have a one track mind.
Then there was that kiss.
Holy fuck, that kiss.
I swear I would have traded three years worth of orgasms for that kiss.
All the most demanding parts of my anatomy were shrieking 'Take her,
take her, take her!!" and I was dying to listen. Her damn sloppy t-shirt
and yoga pants were driving me as wild as if she was wearing a black
corset and fishnets, especially because I already knew what waited
underneath. I wanted to violate all of it in sixty nine creatively dirty
ways.
The problem was, I'd spent too many hours lying awake in my bed and
thinking about the tranquil pleasure of holding her in my arms. Sex
alone wouldn't get me back there.
We' d been on the road for almost two hours. Roslyn had been sleeping
for some time but she stirred and opened her eyes as we passed the
Imperial Sand Dunes along I-8. It was after two a.m. and the dunes
weren't visible in the dark. I only knew they were there because of the
road signs and because I've seen them in the daylight before.
Roslyn yawned. "Aren't you tired?"
"Nope. I'm a night owl by nature."
She gave me a look. "Funny, I remember you climbing out of bed at
sunrise and going for a run."
"Oh, that. That was a special occasion." "An interesting choice of
words."

"Well, let me try again." I cleared my throat and adopted a professorial
tone. "When I awoke in a tangle of bedclothes and saw a beautiful
woman lying beside me I desperately wanted to fuck her into oblivion.
But since she was still unconscious I did the gentlemanly thing and
worked that energy out elsewhere."
"Temporarily," she said. She was smiling though. "Or did you
forget?"
"I don't forget things like a hot, wild fuck against my bedroom
wall."
She was silent for a long time. I thought she might have dropped off to
sleep again but when I looked over I saw her staring solemnly at her lap
and playing with the hem of her shirt.
"In case you were wondering," she said quietly, "I don't regularly do
that. Have one night stands I mean. Not that I have regrets but it was
totally out of the ordinary for me. And I' m always far more responsible
when it comes to using protection."
That was no surprise. I could feel her waiting for the same reassurance
from me. However, I could only give her part of what she was looking
for.
"Well," I said, trying to choose my words carefully, "I want to be
honest with you, so I'll say that screwing around casually is not out of
the ordinary for me."
She tensed and nodded tightly. "I understand."
I touched her knee. "But I swear I always use condoms. And without
going into a litany of medical details let's just say I can assure you that
you've got nothing to worry about."
"I'm not on birth control, Con."
The words hit me like a freight train and I had to struggle to keep the
steering wheel straight. Roslyn must have seen the alarm in my face.
"Oh god, no. Conway, I didn't mean that I was pregnant or anything. I
took the morning after pill. "
I exhaled with relief. "That's good," I said weakly. She giggled. "I
scared the shit out of you, huh?" "No big deal. Just a year or two shaved
off my life."

Roslyn chuckled and stared dreamily out at the darkness. She hadn' t
commented on my admission that I was no choirboy and there was
nothing I could do about all the notches in my belt. But it really bugged
me that she might just think she was another one of them.
She looked over when I cleared my throat.
"Listen, what happened between me and you last time, it hasn't been
like that with anyone else."
"Con, you don't owe me any explanations."
"That's the thing, honey. I think I do because if you happen to find
yourself in a conversation with anyone who's been around me these last
few years you'll hear about it. I don't know what we can call this thing
but I want to prove to you that it's not about a score."
She touched my arm. "You are proving that, Conway. You're proving
that tonight."
When I took my eyes off the flat ribbon of highway and looked at her
the gentleness I saw in her eyes threatened to cut me open.
"You're so beautiful," I blurted out and it sounded like sappy soap
opera talk even to my own ears. Roslyn was probably used to being told
how gorgeous she was and she didn't blush or argue this time. She just
smiled and settled back into her seat to watch the miles pass.
I had turned off the radio earlier while Roslyn was sleeping but now I
switched it back on. It crackled to life via satellite and the reception
was crystal clear despite the remote location. Roslyn practically
squealed with delight when I switched to a station that played mostly
music from the 1980s.
Funny thing I'd noticed about Roslyn; I used to assume she was nothing
but high maintenance. Yet in the short amount of time I'd spent with her
I had already learned that it was the small things, the tiny everyday
joys, that made her eyes light up. We sped through the dark landscape
of southern California to the soundtrack of The Bangles and Bon Jovi.
We talked and she dozed off again for a while. When she awoke I
pulled into a rest stop to gas up, use the bathroom and get some coffee.
We'd reached the outskirts of the San Diego metro area and even
though it would still be some time before the sun rose I could tell the
sky was not as dark as it had been.

"How much longer?" she asked once we were back on the road. She
was excited, sitting up straight in her seat and already craning her neck
around for a glimpse of the ocean, which was still miles away. She
reminded me a little bit of Evie right now, the way she practically
vibrated with infectious enthusiasm. I wondered how they' d get along,
Evie and Roslyn. Well, Evie got along with everyone but something
told me the two of them would hit it off uncommonly well.
"About an hour left," I said, and then smugly and silently congratulated
myself for coming up with this bright idea.
By the time we reached the beach the eastern sky had lightened to a soft
gray and it was easy to imagine the sun peeking over the horizon
shortly.
"What are you doing?" I asked Roslyn as I pulled two more blankets
out of the trunk of the car. She was standing about ten feet away, eyes
closed, arms outstretched like she was deep in meditation.
"Enjoying," she said over the sound of the surf lapping the shore below.
"Well, walk this way if you want to enjoy everything a little closer to
where the action is."
As we descended the long wooden staircase to the water I could see we
weren't the first on the scene. A handful of figures waited at the
shoreline, some strapping themselves into wetsuits, others just quietly
holding surfboards under their arms as they waited for the sunlight.
We kept walking the length of the beach until there was no one in sight.
Roslyn immediately dropped down on a blanket as soon as I spread it
out on the sand. The cool air tasted of salt and the wind blowing off the
water was brisk and invigorating.
I stood back for a moment, just admiring the sight of a beautiful girl
beside the shore. So many paintings and photos had attempted to
capture a vision like this but none were as stunning as the view of
Roslyn's hair lifting in the wind as she closed her eyes and breathed in
the sea air.
She turned suddenly, noticing that I was hanging back. "Sit down," she
said, patting the blanket.
"Here." I tossed her the other blanket. "In case you're cold."

"When I was little," she said, smiling as she unfolded the spare blanket
and draped it across her slender shoulders, "I used to pretend all that
barren sand outside Emblem was one giant beach and that if I walked
long enough I'd eventually step right into the ocean. You know how the
washes are always littered with debris after a storm? We used to pick
through the remains and imagine that the pieces of things we couldn't
identify were actually seashells. Neither of us had ever seen a real
beach, not back then, but we talked about it all the time."
"We?"
She nodded, sinking her fingers into the soft sand. "Me and Erin." She
sighed and withdrew her hand, pulling the blanket tighter around
herself.
"It's okay," I said quietly. "You can talk about her."
Roslyn looked at me, touched my arm. "You can too."
I was quiet for a moment. "I didn't talk about her at all, not for a very
long time. I couldn't even say her name until Stone dragged it out of me
one day. That day was the first time I ever visited her grave and that's
when I realized I'd done her a terrible dishonor in all the time I couldn't
stand to remember her. She deserves more than just a sad legacy."
"Yes," said Roslyn. "She does."
I watched her as she took her necklace out of her shirt and slowly
pulled it over her head. She kissed the crystal on the end and then
carefully placed it inside a zippered compartment in her purse.
The seagulls were beginning to assert themselves overhead, circling
over the shallow areas and shrilly competing for air space. We watched
as one made a sudden dive into the water, grabbed something small in
its talons and then flew toward the pier where a handful of fishermen
patiently waited with their poles in the water.
"Do you still dance?" I asked suddenly.
Roslyn tucked her hair behind one ear and looked at me with surprise.
"No, not for years. I'm surprised you even remember that about me."
"I do though. It's strange, the bits and pieces of information that we
store without realizing it. Ballet, right?"

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, mostly." "So why'd you stop?"
She shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I don' t know.
Seemed like a little girl' s dream and we all have to grow up sooner or
later. Sometimes I miss it though. I miss the feeling of invincibility. I
miss the strength that would course through me every time I stretched
into promenade en arabesque."
I didn't know what that was. But there was grace in just about every
movement Roslyn made and I wished suddenly and desperately that I' d
seen her dance, just once.
"Show me," I said.
She laughed. "What, here?"
"Sure."
"Sand isn' t really conducive to ballet, Conway. A flat surface is rather
a firm requirement. Besides I haven't done it in years." "So what? I bet
it's like riding a bike."
She shook her head and looked out over the water. I took her chin
between my thumb and forefinger and moved her face back to me.
"Please. I swear I won't ask you for anything else." She raised an
eyebrow. "Ever?" I mulled that over. "For at least an hour." Her lips
twitched. "All right."
Roslyn stood and made a show of brushing the sand off her clothes
before taking a few steps in the direction of the water. Her face became
serious, her gaze focused somewhere on the horizon where the sun was
starting to show its face. Right there on the beach, in her running shoes
and yoga pants, Roslyn Tory lifted her arms, stretched one leg straight
behind her and held a pose of such magnificent glory it took my breath
away. Slowly she began to rotate, swinging her body around in a
perfect arc like one of those jewelry box ballerinas.
"Damn," I whispered because I was impressed, infatuated and
absolutely fucking horny all at once.
Then the shifting nature of the sand caught up to her and she tumbled to
earth with loud laughter.
"Damn, that felt good," she gasped as she lay on her back and

giggled in the sand.
She was still giggling when I stretched out in the sand right next to her.
I rolled to my back and stared up at the sky. A few stubborn stars still
twinkled vaguely but they faded with each breath of morning wind. In
the distance the surfers hooted in celebration as they braved the cold
spring water and paddled out to meet the waves.
Roslyn slipped her soft hand into mine and we watched the sky change
together as we lay side by side. The sound of the surf rolled over the
beach behind us, the same water that's been riding the waves as long as
there's been an ocean.
There was no such thing as time. It didn't exist in its conventional form.
There was just us, the two of us, and the ancient endurance of this
place.
Roslyn's breathing had grown deep and even and I wondered if she'd
fallen asleep. When I rotated my head to look at her I saw that her eyes
were indeed closed, lips slightly parted as the wind toyed with strands
of her long hair, teasing them across her lovely face like wispy
paintbrushes.
She must have been awake all along though because she cracked one
eye open and peered right at me. A seagull screamed right over our
heads, a mighty wave crashed somewhere unseen and Roslyn rolled her
body right on top of mine. She propped herself up on her elbows and
stared down at me until I couldn't take the tension anymore. I grabbed
her, our mouths eager to meet again with a passionate ferocity that
unleashed a growl in my throat.
We kissed and teased and kissed some more. It wasn't enough. I slid my
hands under her shirt and rolled again until I had her pinned beneath
me, my mouth moving to her neck to work the skin hard enough to
make her suck in a gasp and dig her fingers into my back as her long
legs wrapped around my waist.
"Holy shit, look at that!" The voice was young, male and too
close.
"Get a room kids," his companion said and let out a wolf whistle.
"Fuck," I hissed as Roslyn's legs fell from my waist.
I couldn't exactly be pissed off because it was Saturday morning on

a public beach. What the hell did I plan to do? Have my way with her
right here on the sand in broad daylight?
The two guys, who were probably about our age, laughed from a
distance as they headed for the water with boards under their muscled
arms.
Roslyn eased out from underneath me and scooted away, brushing the
sand from her clothes.
"I think we're about to get some more company," she said, pointing to
the distant staircase we'd descended from.
About a dozen teenagers wearing identical yellow shirts from some
local high school were running down the steps, probably part of some
club or sport. They were singing a song and at the end of every stanza
would erupt in a collective 'Hoo!'.
I stretched, yawned, and tried not to stare too greedily at the full shape
of Roslyn's breasts under that stupid t-shirt.
"You hungry?" I asked as I started folding up blankets, in part to give
my hyperactive dick a chance to calm down.
"So hungry I could eat a cat," she said as she grabbed the far corner of
the blanket I was folding. "But I'll settle for pancakes."
We found a nearby breakfast spot that specialized in tall mugs of
liquefied green beans. Luckily they also served whole grain pancakes
with fruit so we ordered a couple of plates of those and mugs of a dark
caffeinated concoction that was supposed to be some kind of tea.
"Drink more tea," ordered Roslyn as she pushed the cup across the
table. "You keep yawning."
I yawned again. "Not sure there's enough caffeine in the world to jump
start this sorry ass machine right now. "
She swallowed a bite of strawberry. "Sorry. I would have offered to
take the wheel for a little while so you could rest but I never learned
how to drive a stick."
"It's fine," I said and yawned again. "Besides, I don't need rest."
"That's funny Conway because I do believe you're about to face plant
into your pancakes."
I made a face. "Not even close."
"Good. Because I'm sure I'm not strong enough to carry you out of

here if you do."
I took a sip of tea. It tasted like dirty rainwater laced with cigarette
ashes. There was something I'd been thinking about ever since we left
the beach but I was a little worried about undoing this delicate new
bond between us.
"How about if we get a room?" I said as casually as I could. Roslyn
tilted her head and looked at me strangely.
"What?" she asked.
"Eh, never mind. Just a thought."
"What was? I didn't hear you the first time. You mumbled."
I cleared my throat and leaned across the table. "I asked if you wanted
to get a room. A hotel room. Something right on the beach, on my
dime." I couldn't read the expression on her face so I kept talking. "We
can hang out, we can sleep, we can order room service. "
She looked utterly blank for a few seconds. Then a playful grin crossed
her face and she leaned forward. "Is there anything else we can
do?"
In answer I reached under the table and pushed my hand between her
legs. She yelped and squeezed my hand between her knees.
I took my hand away and gave her what I thought was a serious
look.
"No conditions, Roslyn. No expectations. I just want to be with
you."
She stared at me for so long and in such silence I was sure I'd somehow
said something wrong. I was already trying to figure out how to
backpedal from whatever mistake I' d unintentionally made when she
set her fork down.
"You kill me, Conway Gentry."
"That doesn't sound good."
"Then I didn't say it right." She bit her lower lip and looked at me with
shy vulnerability. "I want to be with you too."
The first nice hotel we went to claimed there weren't any beachside
balcony rooms currently available but I solved that problem with two
convenient hundred dollar bills. So far I had tried to be discreet about
the wad of cash I carried around but I could feel Roslyn watching with

curiosity. I'd managed to skirt around her questions about what I did to
make my way in the world. I got the feeling she understood my various
occupations weren't the briefcase and tie variety and I hoped that
wouldn't be a problem.
When we reached the room she made a mad dash for the balcony,
sliding the doors open and letting the cool ocean breeze in.
"That view," she exclaimed, staring out at the ocean while I stared right
at her.
There were still bits of sand clinging to my back so I pulled my shirt off
and draped it over a chair. Roslyn turned around and her eyes roamed
over my chest.
"Think I might take a shower," I said brightly. "A few pieces of the
beach don't seem to want to let go."
She pulled the sliding glass door closed behind her and took a few steps
in my direction, hugging her arms around herself.
"Seems like that's how we got into trouble last time."
I grinned broadly. "I don't remember any trouble."
She smirked and abruptly grabbed the edges of her shirt, pulling it over
her head in one smooth stroke. Evidently she hadn't switched her bra to
match her loungewear. It was black and lace and fucking fantastic.
"You're making this really hard," she accused with a stern look and I
recognized my own words. I'd said them to her that morning, when I
was half-heartedly trying to be a good guy.
I dropped my pants in a flash, relishing the way her eyes widened.
"I can tell," I said, and let the sight of my stiff cock send the rest of the
message.
Even though I was crazy with lust we kept things PG-13 in the shower.
There was touching and kissing and soap but that's all. I didn't want to
rush through our next time and I was kind of enjoying all the teasing
and the foreplay. Usually I just went right for the target but with Roslyn
I was learning there was something to be said for anticipation.
Afterwards, she was standing in front of the vanity mirror, toweling off
her long hair with a smile and wearing a robe with the hotel logo. The
fatigue that had kept me yawning over my pancakes was a

distant memory. As inviting as the bed looked, I could think of a lot
more fun things to use it for than sleeping.
I sat on the edge where I had a good view of Roslyn combing through
her wet hair with her fingers. She paused to tighten the loose belt on her
terrycloth robe and then noticed that I was staring.
"Stop that," she complained with a cute blush.
"Stop what?"
"Watching. It makes me self-conscious. So stop." "No."
She turned and leaned against the counter, facing me with a serious
expression.
"Lose the robe," I ordered. She smiled. "Lose the towel."
I stood, whipped the damn thing off and practically threw it across the
room.
Roslyn had stopped smiling. She pressed her lips together like she was
nervous and kept her eyes on my face as her fingers loosened the
terrycloth belt. The robe hung open and she took several slow steps in
my direction, then allowed it to fall from her shoulders.
"Gorgeous," I told her, my voice catching a little.
She waited beside the bed until I pulled the covers back. As I eased her
down to the cool sheets I fought the urge to immediately bury my face
in her tits or between her legs. I wanted to look at her first and so I did.
I looked for so long that she started to squirm so I took one finger and
ran it softly down her body, starting with her delicate collarbone, down
over her heart, between her full breasts, over the taut muscles of her
belly, finally idling playfully over the entrance I was just about dying to
breach.
"Conway," she moaned as she writhed, reaching for me.
I loved the sound of my name on her lips, the way she sighed at my
touch. I'd just about had enough of being gentle though.
There was already a condom waiting on the nightstand because I wasn't
going to commit the same oversight twice. I slid it on as discreetly as I
could with one hand while the other one kept working between her legs
as she opened for me eagerly. Without warning I

pushed inside of her. Hard. She let out this gasping moan and clutched
my arms. After only about a dozen deep thrusts she was close to the
brink but I didn' t want her going over, not yet. I pulled out and teased
her with the tip of my cock, gritting my teeth to stay focused and
breaking a sweat from every pore. Roslyn whimpered. She bucked her
hips in desperation. She begged and spread her legs wider but I
wouldn't give her what she wanted until she said my name again.
"Please," she cried, gripping my shoulders.
In response I rotated my hips around and around, teasing the tip just
inside as she quivered underneath me.
"Conway! " she yelled and I went wild, thrusting into her with every
ounce of power I had.
She came quickly, shuddering nonstop as the climax lasted and lasted.
Then when I couldn't hold on anymore I followed her, gripping the
headboard to push as deep as I could reach and hoping it wouldn't be
too much for her to take. But she took it. She took it and spread as wide
as she could and shrieked from the power of a fresh orgasm.
We panted together for a full five minutes before I tactfully disposed of
the condom and switched the light off. Now that I'd been spent I was
starting to feel somewhat drowsy again. Roslyn seemed pleased when I
took her in my arms as soon as I returned to bed. She snuggled against
me and let out a happy sigh as I stroked her long hair and marveled over
how well we fit together, how easy it was proving to be to feel close to
someone.
Almost dangerously easy.
As if she'd heard my thoughts she moved on top of me and rested her
chin on my chest.
"Do you think we're moving too fast?" she whispered. "Baby." I kissed
her. "There's no such thing."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ROSLYN
Conway had impeccable timing. He called barely thirty seconds after I'
d left work for the day and was on my way to the parking lot.
"I was just thinking about you," I said as I climbed into the front seat of
my car.
"I was thinking about you too," he said, "but then Jackson yelled at me
to get my hand off my dick and watch the road." I laughed. "What
road?"
"A big one. With lots of unfriendly looking drivers. People look pretty
scary outside of Phoenix." "Conway, where are you?"
"Driving back to the valley from Tonopah. That's why I called.
Traffic's being a filthy bastard and it looks like I'll be a little late for
dinner."
I almost asked him what he'd been doing way out on the west side but I
choked the words off. We'd been together for almost two months now
and I still didn't know a whole lot about Conway's world. He had
admitted he was involved in street racing and gambling rings. When I
asked if I could come see him race sometime he looked almost
comically alarmed and growled that he'd never want a woman he cared
about to spend ten seconds in that kind of company.
My stomach hurt when I thought about Conway being in any sort of
danger, no matter how much he assured me that he wasn't dumb
enough to take on real trouble and knew how to get himself out of tight
places before they turned sour. I worried anyway.
"That's fine," I said lightly. "Now I'll have time to get home, start
dinner and make myself pretty for you."
He chuckled. "That's doesn't require much effort. You're always
beautiful and you know it."

"I like to goad you into saying it anyway."
"Then I'll say it again. You are so fucking beautiful, Roslyn. No matter
what you're wearing. No matter what you're doing. No matter if your
hair is perfect or a tangled up mess. No matter what time of day it is or
what kind of mood you're in."
Somewhere in the background on Conway's end I heard a disturbing
gagging sound, followed by a hearty slap.
"What's that noise? Is someone dying in your backseat?"
"That was Jackson. He didn't appreciate the poetry of my sentiments
but don' t worry. I smacked him and he looks very sorry. Actually
maybe I shouldn' t have hit him so hard. He' s writhing around in pain
and I' m worried he might puke on my new floor mats. "
"Pain my ass, you motherfucker," I heard Jackson say but he was
laughing.
"Shut up," Conway told him cheerfully, "or you' ll have to explain to
Emily why you're missing a testicle."
Their banter was all in good fun. The two of them were good friends
and I always felt better when Con had Jackson at his side. Jackson was
smart and loyal and apparently a pretty good boxer from what Emily
had told me.
Speaking of those two, Jackson and Emily were every bit as hot and
heavy as Conway and I were these days. They were with each other
almost every night and the four of us frequently hung out together. It
was amazing, watching my friend fall hard and fast. It was almost as
amazing as falling hard and fast myself.
"Roslyn?" Conway said and I realized I'd gone completely quiet.
"I'm here." I started my car and cranked up the air conditioner.
"Just wanted to say that I can't wait to see you."
My heartbeat quickened and I smiled. "You saw me last night."
"And it was quite a night. I' m looking forward to a faithful reenactment
of those events." His voice dropped and I could tell he was trying to
keep Jackson from hearing every word. "I missed you all
day."
Oh, god. This boy and what he did to me. Always speaking in sexy
riddles punctuated by moments of searing honesty.

"I missed you too, Con."
"At this point I'm guessing we'll be at your place around seven."
"Emily's probably already home. I'll be waiting. Bring your appetite."
"Ha, of course I will. I'm bringing all my appetites."
Indeed, Emily was already home. Lately her hours had been cut back at
her job and though she'd been searching for a new one, the labor market
wasn't ideal. I half suspected she didn't mind working less because it
gave her more time to spend with Jackson, who had the same kind of
variable schedule Conway had.
Emily was crying when I walked in and I thought something bad had
happened but it turned out she was trying to get a head start on dinner
by chopping up onions. She'd made a mess out of the poor thing and I
was glad she hadn't started on the peppers yet because I hadn't bought
more than I would need for dinner.
I shooed her away to go tend to her red eyes and took over the chopping
until everything was in perfect bite-sized pieces. Once it was all
chopped and ready I tossed my work into a red mixing bowl and shoved
it in the fridge for the time being.
Emily emerged, having changed into a cute vintage style blue
checkered dress, complete with pearls that made her look like a lovely
Asian version of Donna Reed.
"You need to wear your Rita Hayworth dress," she told me as she
fastened pearl studs into her ears.
"Don't you think that's overdoing it for an evening in?"
She shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"Okay, then. Rita Hayworth it is."
Since I was going to a lot of trouble anyway I took a quick shower
before sliding into the black evening gown. There was a deep slit in the
fabric along the right leg and I felt like pre-packaged sex as soon as I
put it on. The bust was tighter than I remembered but I figured I had
probably gained a few pounds over the last few months. Conway was
always keen on trying new restaurants and we went out to eat at least
several times a week. After applying my makeup to perfection I
carefully curled my hair and pinned it up on the right side with an

elaborate black and white flower-shaped clip. As a finishing touch I
dug my Louboutin black pumps out of the closet and stepped into them.
Emily unleashed a wolf whistle as soon as I stepped into the living
room.
"Hot," she declared. "Although I feel like a regular Plain Jane next to
you tonight."
I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Em. You look amazing."
She smiled down at herself. "He loves this dress," she said and then
swooned into a nearby reclining armchair. "I think he's it, Roe. He' s the
one. I never felt this way about Gage. I never felt this way about
anyone. You like him, right?"
"Jackson' s a nice guy," I said as I fished an apron out of the cupboard
and tied it around my waist. "He treats you like gold and he might be
even more enamored of you than you are of him."
She sat up straight, grinning. "I don't believe that's possible but I' m
glad you think so."
Conway had texted about fifteen minutes ago to say that he and
Jackson were within Phoenix city limits so I figured I should get the stir
fry started. Emily was floating around the living room singing
Unchained Melody as I heated oil in a large pan and removed all the
ingredients from the fridge.
"Want some help?" she called.
"I can handle it," I answered diplomatically. Emily was a wretched
cook and I tried to keep her out of my kitchen whenever possible.
She sat at the breakfast bar, poured herself a glass of wine from an open
bottle of red and watched me bustling around.
"Roslyn, I love him," she blurted. The flush in her cheeks wasn't just
from the wine. "I told him that last night. At first I thought I shouldn't
have but then he said it back."
"Wow." I smiled as I tested the temperature of the pan by letting a few
drops of water fall in. They sizzled immediately. "That's a hell of a big
step."
"I know." She poured another glass of wine. "Isn't it funny, how things
work out? If I hadn't met Jackson you wouldn't have started seeing
Conway and now we both have these amazing guys we're crazy

about."
Emily had been kind of skeptical of Conway at first but he'd long since
won her over. In fact she was all ready to push me into a white picket
fence happily ever after with him.
"Roslyn?" she said, somewhat tentatively.
I looked up from the sizzling pan. Emily was drumming her fingers on
the counter, watching me earnestly. She started to ask a question and
then stopped.
"Spit it out, Em."
"Are you in love with Conway?"
The sharp knock at the door cut off the inquiry and sent Emily running
down the hall to answer it. She reappeared a moment later in the arms
of Jackson.
"Hey, Roslyn," he said cheerfully and I waved from my position at the
stove.
Conway strolled in a second later, always cool and utterly gorgeous. He
hadn't shaved today, his baseball cap was backwards and the black shirt
he wore was notably faded. Nonetheless, he looked like he'd just
stepped off a modeling shoot.
He looked me over hungrily and I shifted enough so that the slit in my
gown exposed my leg all the way to mid thigh.
"That's some dress," he said and gave me that incomparable Gentry
grin that made me want to drop everything and jump his bones.
"Thank you," I said and offered him my sexiest smile.
"Come here," he whispered.
I hesitated, searching for a place to set the spatula down. But Conway
wasn' t the patient type so he came to me before I could move. He
cupped my face in his hands and kissed me slow and deep. Conway
was a perfect kisser. He knew when to use his tongue and how to tease
until I couldn't stand it.
"Later," I said, reluctantly pulling away. "I have to finish dinner."
Jackson and Emily had moved outside to the small balcony. He was
telling her some animated story complete with creative sound effects
and she was laughing.
Conway came around behind me as I returned to the stove. He

slipped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.
"What's for dinner?" "Teriyaki stir fry." "Mmm. What's for dessert?"
Instead of words I pushed backwards, grinding my ass in a deliberate
slow circle that had him hissing out a curse and pressing back until I
could feel the unmistakable outline of his lust. He moved his hands
down, running his palms down the silky gown until I grabbed his right
hand and guided him to the place the fabric split. One finger stroked the
inside of my thigh and I urged him higher as I twisted my neck so I
could see his face. When he realized there was nothing else there, no
panties, only me, he shut his eyes in ecstasy and groaned. "You say
something, Con?" Jackson called from the balcony.
"No!" he shouted.
Somehow I managed to get Conway to let me finish dinner
preparations even though he argued a really convincing case for
visiting the bedroom first. When I firmly refused he sulked for a few
seconds, then poured himself a glass of wine, chugged it like it was a
shot of whiskey and leveled me with the world's sexiest glare.
"Don't pout," I said, stirring the vegetables in the pan so they would
cook evenly.
"Then don't make me wait, baby. It's unhealthy. Plus excessive
horniness brings out my cranky side. "
I batted my eyelashes. "Maybe you ought to teach me a lesson
later."
He raised his eyebrows, looking very interested. "I always thought I
would make an excellent teacher."
"And I'd be quite eager to fill the role of your student, Mr.
Gentry."
Emily and Jackson were almost nauseatingly cute together. Conway
looked at me and rolled his eyes when they started feeding each other
stir fry one bite at a time.
Early this morning I' d whipped up a chocolate pie and set it in the
fridge. As I sliced and served the pie I felt Conway' s eyes on my body.
I expected to see a sexy smirk on his face when I looked up but instead

he was leaning back in his chair, one finger thoughtfully pressed to his
chin as he gazed at me with shy tenderness. It was a rare expression.
Not just for him, but maybe for all men. I sure as hell couldn't
remember ever being on the receiving end of a look like that before.
Jackson mentioned going to some action film about international spies
and Emily tried to coax us along but it didn't sound like my kind of
movie. Anyway, I was really looking forward to being alone with
Conway. I caught the conceited grin on his face and knew he was
thinking exactly the same thing.
Even though Emily and Jackson tried to do their part in cleaning up
before leaving, the show they wanted to see started in twenty minutes
so I told them I'd take care of it and pushed them out the door.
Conway beat me to cleanup detail though. He was already clearing the
table and sent me to the living room with a glass of wine and an order to
relax.
I watched him from the couch, noting that he probably didn't do dishes
very often because he seemed overly serious about it. I sipped my wine
and wondered if I should point out the existence of the dishwasher but
he looked so damn cute frowning over a sink full of suds that I just
relaxed and admired the view. Finally when all the clean dishes were
stacked and Conway's shirt was half soaked he left the sink with a sigh.
"I have a newfound respect for kitchen workers," he said.
"Poor baby," I murmured. "By the way, you're all wet."
He looked down at his shirt, shrugged and pulled it over his head.
Conway tended to wear his jeans on the loose side. When he stretched
to remove his shirt I got a rather erotic glimpse of his lower torso,
Adonis belt and all. He saw me looking and smirked a little.
"Did you enjoy your dinner?" I asked innocently.
"Sure. I was promised dessert though."
"Pie wasn't good enough?"
"Not even close. Especially because you have a few things to atone for,
young lady."
I set my wine glass down and slid over on the sofa to make room

for him. "That's right. You promised to teach me a lesson." "And a man
should never fail to keep a promise." He loomed over me, suddenly
growing serious. "What are you thinking?" I asked innocently. "I think
you'd look damn good on your knees in that dress." "Is that an order?"
"Get on your fucking knees, Roslyn."
"But Jackson and Emily might come back," I said in a hushed voice of
fake shock. I was already obeying.
"They might," he agreed and grabbed a fistful of my hair with one hand
while dropping his pants with the other. "And if they do they' ll see you
down there on the floor getting an education in sucking cock. "
Such crude words but they turned me on like nothing else as I took him
in my mouth. I already knew how to please him, which spots were most
sensitive, how he liked to be handled. I'd been at it for a little while,
using every trick to get him to the threshold when he suddenly pulled
back.
"That's enough," he whispered, stroking my cheeks and peering down
at me with formidable desire in his half closed eyes.
He sank into the couch with his pants still down as I crawled over to
him.
Conway reached down and carefully traced my lower lip with his
finger. "Now I believe that fancy dress needs to get really fucking dirty,
sweetheart."
"I think you're right, Conway."
He abruptly picked me up, settling me over his lap in a straddle.
Sometimes I forgot just how strong Conway was but he'd just heaved
me off the floor like I was light as a pillow. As we kissed I felt him
reaching down and grabbing for his pants, probably searching for a
condom. I reached behind my back and unzipped the dress, letting the
straps fall from my shoulders and Conway stopped what he was doing.
"Holy fuck," he moaned and bent his head to suck my breasts.
Somewhere in the middle of all that I stopped caring about anything but
satisfying the urge between my legs that grew fiercer with every
heartbeat. Clothes were shoved aside, skin met skin and suddenly

he was inside me with nothing else between us and it was so good, so
fucking good, that all I could do was hold on and let it take me.
"Honey," Conway gasped as he kept thrusting, "I'm so damn close, so
fucking close, oh FUCK!"
He pulled out and came against my belly, a hot burst of passion that left
us shaking in each other's arms for what seemed like hours.
"Lesson learned," I mumbled into his shoulder and he snorted with
laughter.
Eventually we moved to my bedroom, Conway carrying me in his
arms. Most nights that we were together were spent here instead of the
San Gabriel. Even though Conway had a lot of friends there he
admitted there were always sketchy characters around and he didn't
like to take a risk that his girl would get catcalled or otherwise
bothered.
We slid into bed naked and held each other. We kissed, we stroked, we
talked. Conway had sort of taken in a homeless teenager and I asked
how he was getting along these days. Ranger was the name the kid had
given, though Conway doubted it was real. He'd set him up with odd
jobs and tried to keep him out of trouble, even tried to talk him into
finishing high school. So far the kid had balked at any mention of
school but Conway said he'd keep working on it. I'd met Ranger a few
times. He appeared to be a bright kid and I strongly suspected he was
not yet eighteen, though he insisted otherwise. Conway seemed
determined to help the boy however he could and I wondered how
much of that was due to his own history. After all, he'd once been a
scared teenager who'd been thrown to the streets. If his cousins hadn't
taken him in there's no telling what would have happened to him out
there.
There was one important thing I'd grown sure of these past few months.
Conway liked to act tough and aloof but in the end his good heart
always prevailed. I'd watched him discreetly handing off cash to any
homeless person we happened to pass. He was doing his best to keep a
random teenager off the streets. He cared deeply for his cousins and
would fight to the death for his brother, Stone. Yes, sometimes Conway
liked to pretend he was a villain but he was really one of the good guys.
I was falling asleep to nice thoughts of the man beside me when he

nudged me gently.
"Hey," he said, "just wanted to remind you that we're going to that
show with Stone and Evie tomorrow night."
I yawned. "Les Miserables, right? Over at Gammage."
"Yeah. Evie's a huge fan of that thing."
"It's a musical, Con. Based on a classic book by French author Victor
Hugo."
"Right. I'll try not to fall asleep in the middle."
The first time Conway had brought me around to see Stone and Evie I'
d been nervous that it would be awkward. Stone Gentry was nothing
like I remembered though. He shook my hand with a smile and even
though I was sure he recalled sending me an emotional letter from
prison, there was no reason to bring that up now. The years had turned
him from a wild, arrogant boy to a considerate down-to-earth man. He
absolutely worshipped his fiance. Evie. There wasn't much mystery
why. Evie was funny and pretty and supremely easygoing. I took to her
immediately. Stone and Evie were clearly pleased that Conway and I
were together. They invited us out often and I was always happy to
spend time with them.
Conway snuggled closer, nuzzling my neck. I threaded my fingers
through his hair.
"Letting it all grow out and getting back to blonde, huh?" I asked.
"Why, you think I ought to keep dyeing it?"
"No. The lighter color suits you. Makes you seem more like yourself,
the real Conway Gentry."
He curled his arms around me more tightly. "It' s because of you. I feel
more like myself because of you, Roslyn." He seemed to be drifting off
and his last words were soft and dreamy. "I've been something else for
far too long and I haven' t been happy, not really. You make me happy."
After that his breathing mirrored the deep, easy rhythm of sleep. I
thought about the words he' d spoken. I thought about his smile. And
his body. His sense of humor and his mysteries.
Most of all I thought about how if I'd had a chance to answer Emily's
question earlier this evening, before that knock on the door, I

could have done so easily with one single word. "Are you in love with
Conway? "
"Completely," I whispered and kissed his forehead as he slept.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CONWAY
"Looking sharp there, Con-man. New threads?" I looked up and saw
Jackson standing there in the open doorway with a wide grin.
"Just figured it was time to invest in something button down," I said as
I fixed my collar.
"Has Roslyn ever even seen you out of your jeans and t-shirt uniform?"
"Shut up."
Jackson stepped inside the room and cut a wide arc, pretending to
check me out. "You clean up okay, Gentry." "Thanks."
I had gone shopping this afternoon and as I strolled around
uncomfortably among the overpriced clothing racks I thought of
Roslyn. She'd never said a word about my sloppy wardrobe but lately I
kept finding myself thinking about ways to be better. Decent clothes,
real job. Maybe it was high time to grow the fuck up and crawl out from
the shadows. If I wanted a chance at a real future with the girl I was
crazy about then I had to.
"Where are you going tonight anyway?" Jackson asked, yawning as he
leaned against the wall.
"A musical or some shit. We're meeting my brother and his girl up
there. What about you? Plans with Emily?"
"No, not tonight."
Something in his voice made me turn around. He was leaning forward,
elbows on his knees, looking troubled. I waited to see if he' d say more
because Jackson wasn't a guy you could press if he didn't feel like
sharing his plans.
"Got a fight tonight," he said, a little too tiredly.

"Yeah?" I was surprised he hadn't said anything earlier.
"No big deal." He shrugged. "Not even my setup actually. One of
Crestron's boys was supposed to be in the ring as an appetizer for a big
match but he pissed someone off and had to go underground. Crestron
made me a nice offer to take the spot, just because he needed some
filler."
Something about that arrangement didn't sit well with me. On the
surface it didn't sound bad and it would likely be an easy score for
Jackson. But some tense instinct in my gut had tightened and wouldn' t
relax.
"How about you let me be your wingman tonight?" I said.
He frowned. "You never ditch plans with Roslyn."
"She'll understand just this once." Actually she wouldn't understand
because I wouldn' t be able to give her details but I had faith that I could
smooth it over later. It wasn't like I was stepping out to see some girl. I
was looking out for a friend.
I grabbed my phone from the top of the dresser and went to call her but
Jackson reached right over and plucked it from my hands.
"Don't," he said. When I just stood there and gaped at him he smiled
and shook his head, handing the phone back. "Never cancel on a
beautiful woman who adores you."
While I mulled that over Jackson chuckled.
"I'll be fine, mama bear. Scout's honor."
"All right." I stuffed the phone into my back pocket and grabbed my
wallet. "Thought you were going to quit that scene though."
"I am. Just doing one last very lucrative favor. What about you, Con? I
hear you've been making noises lately about leaving this life behind for
something prettier."
"With a longer life expectancy at least. Racing and gambling isn't
exactly a retirement plan."
"True."
"You know," I said slowly, "between the two of us we know a hell of a
lot about cars. I bet there' s always room here in the valley for another
garage."
Jackson stared at me. He didn' t smile or say anything and when

half a minute went by I felt the need to speak up.
"So what do you say? I mean, it's cool if you don't want to be in
business with me, but I'd like to state for the record first that I think we
could make it work."
He cleared his throat and shifted his weight, looking down at the floor.
"You want us to be business partners, Con?"
"Absolutely. Outside of my family, I can't think of another man I' d
trust more than I trust you."
He looked me straight in the eye and slowly nodded. "Yeah," he said.
"If you're serious then I'd jump at the chance."
"I am serious. While we're on the subject, we ought to really start
thinking about getting out of the illustrious San Gabriel. We stay here
and the temptation to backslide will always be too strong. Plus it'll
never be a place fit to bring a lady."
"It sure won't. What about the boys though?"
"You probably already heard Kilt's thinking about heading back to
Montana this summer. His dad's sick and he misses the ranch. And Eli
told me today he's tossing around the idea of moving in with his
ex-girlfriend next month. I' m having trouble picturing Eli being
faithful but there' s a kid involved so he might give it a shot."
"All right." He was smiling broadly now. "So we' re really doing this?
Getting out and opening up a garage?"
"Hell yes. Shake on it." I held out my hand and he slapped his palm into
mine.
"I' m going to see Emily after the fight. You mind if I tell her?"
"Go for it."
Jackson was about to walk out the door but he paused and turned
around.
"Gentry," he said seriously, "you' ll be my friend till the day I
die."
He left without waiting for a response.
When I got to the lobby I found Ranger, the teenager I' d been helping
out. He was fixing a table and chair set that our resident night owl
addicts had dismantled for the sake of some puzzling experiment.
"How' s it going, kid?" I asked, pausing for a moment because I

really cared about the answer. I saw too much of me in that boy and I
wanted him to make it. He was still cautious about handing out
personal details and I suspected he was on the run from something or
someone. But if he didn't want to tell the story there was no forcing the
matter.
"Good," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he looked up
from his work. "I started work yesterday at Burger Haven, so thanks for
that. Them manager mentioned he was a friend of yours and you' d
asked him for a favor."
'Friend' wasn't what I would have called a racing rival who owed me a
pile of cash but that was okay. The debt had already come in handy
once and might come in handy again someday.
"No problem," I answered smoothly. "You give any more thought
to school?"
He scowled and picked up a screwdriver. "Not really."
"There's a program for kids like you, an alternative high school setting
so you can work during the day and go to class at night. My girlfriend
told me about it."
Ranger perked up. "You mean that hot redhead I keep seeing you
with?"
"That's her."
"She seems cool. You're lucky."
"And I know it." I flicked his right shoulder. "Think about school. I'll
check in with you in a few days." "Will do. And thanks."
I was a few minutes early to pick up Roslyn so I stopped at the corner
market to buy some flowers. At first I grabbed for the roses but then
changed my mind and went for the daisies instead. They seemed more
like her style.
She was beaming even as she opened the door. I bent down for a kiss,
circling one hand possessively around her back. When I gave her the
flowers she carried on about how daisies had always been her favorite.
She was fussing, arranging them carefully in a large glass vase when I
pointed out that we had to get going.
Emily was there, sitting on the couch reading. She looked up long

enough to order us to have a good time. I didn't mention anything about
Jackson because I had no idea what he'd told her he was up to tonight.
He didn' t like to let her know about things like fighting matches just
like I didn' t like to let Roslyn know about street races and other perils.
When we were outside Roslyn's apartment I pulled her in for a real kiss,
a heart-stopping sloppy tongue exercise that would have led straight to
filthy things if we hadn't already promised to be somewhere.
"You look nice," she said when the kiss broke and we linked hands.
"So do you," I told her, checking out the view. She was wearing a sexy
dark blue dress that ended just above the knees and made her tits pop
out so much I couldn't stop staring.
I could get used to this, used to being with her everyday. I could get
used to it in a permanent kind of way. Sometimes I thought about
telling her that but then I'd think about where I lived and the people I
hung around and the things I did to put cash in my pocket. I had to leave
all that behind if I was going to stay with Roslyn. She deserved nothing
less.
On the drive to the theater I thought about my earlier conversation with
Jackson. I felt good about it. The two of us could break the cycle and
find something worthy of a future with the women in our lives. We'd
both skidded over some rough patches in life's great game but we could
reverse course now and head in a better direction.
After all, Stone had managed to do it. Hell, maybe I could even talk my
brother into joining us on our planned business venture now that we
were getting into something legitimate.
Stone and Evie were already waiting in front of the theater, which had
been one of Frank Lloyd Wright's final architectural projects. I knew
that because Roslyn had just told me as much in the car.
Evie ran right over, kissed me on the cheek and grabbed Roslyn's hand.
Stone and I trailed the two of them inside and as I looked at my brother
I thought about what he had been like a million years ago, back in
Emblem. A player, an adventurer, a juvenile delinquent, a producer of
constant sarcasm, and the best brother anyone ever had. He' d

matured past most of those traits but the important things stuck. In spite
of everything we'd been through or maybe because of everything we'd
been through, he was still the best brother in the world. And I admired
the hell out of him.
"You sick?" he asked me as we reached the crowded lobby and the girls
wandered over to the refreshment bar.
"Nah." I swiped at my eyes. "My contact lens came loose."
"You don't wear contact lenses, Con."
"Well, I think I ought to start. You seem kind of blurry. Never mind,
that's just the way your face looks."
He grabbed me around the neck, trying to get me in a headlock as if we
were still kids. "Don't make me bring you down in front of all these
fancy folks, little brother."
I reared my head back and managed to clip him under the chin. "As if
you could, asshole."
Evie arrived on the scene with her hands on her hips. "What are you
guys doing?" she demanded in a maternal tone that warned we'd better
step right the fuck back in line.
"Hugging," Stone answered in a serious voice as he enveloped me in an
obnoxious and rather painful embrace.
"We love each other," I croaked as my brother squeezed my ribs so
hard I could hardly breathe.
"Oh my god," Evie muttered but she couldn't quite keep the smile off
her face.
Roslyn laughed outright.
Since Stone had decided to try to crush the life out of me I didn't feel
bad about stomping on his foot. He yelped and let go.
Evie and Roslyn wanted to sit next to each other so Stone and I sat on
their other sides. Roslyn handed me a theater program and briefly
outlined the plot in a whisper as the other patrons took their seats. The
crowd hushed expectantly when the lights dimmed and a moment later
the first powerful burst of music had them erupting in collective
applause.
The main character was a guy who escaped from prison, became a
mayor, adopted a little girl and tried to stay out of trouble as a
revolution

brewed. It wasn't a bad story, although I could have done without all
the singing and dancing. By the intermission I was struggling to stay
focused as the actors capered around in strange clothes and sang about
rebellions and barricades. I craned my neck and looked pointedly over
at Stone to see if he was into all this. To my surprise he seemed rather
captivated as he stared at the stage and held Evie's hand.
Intermission turned out to be really short. There was time to run to the
men' s room and that' s about it. A second after I entered the auditorium
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket but the announcer warned that
the show would resume in sixty seconds and since Roslyn was here
with me I figured whoever else was calling could wait a few hours.
The second half of the show had a lot more excitement, though there
was still too much singing for my taste. Still, even I had to admit that
some of the music was catchy and at the end when Jean Valjean died I
found myself feeling a little sad. When the rest of the audience rose to
give the cast a standing ovation I stood up too and clapped as loud as
anyone.
After the four of us left the theater and stood around in the parking lot
trying to decide what to do next, my phone buzzed again. This time I
looked at it. I frowned.
Roslyn had been giggling about something with Evie but she must have
seen the look on my face because she stopped.
"Con? What's wrong?"
Kilt had called eleven times. Eli had called eight times. Neither one of
them was prone to clingy fits of phone hysteria.
"Hold on," I said. "I've got to make a quick call."
I could feel their eyes on me as I stepped a few feet away. For some
reason my stomach was hurting again. I called Kilt and he picked up
immediately.
"Shit, man, where have you been?" His voice was hoarse, raspy.
Almost like he'd been crying. I could think of few things more
improbable than Kilt in tears.
"Just at a show. What the hell's going on? Are Eli and Jackson with
you?"

Kilt took a deep breath and told me. He cried when he said it. I should
have cried too and I knew that sooner or later I would. I asked two
questions and he answered them. Finally I told him I would be there
soon and I hung up.
"Conway?" Roslyn touched my arm, her voice full of worry. Stone
stood right behind her, concern all over his face.
"Jackson's dead," I said because it was true and there was no hiding
from it.
Roslyn cried out and put her hand over her mouth. Stone's shoulders
slumped. Evie looked at all of us with confusion.
"What happened?" Roslyn whispered.
"It doesn't matter what happened. He's dead."
"Damn it." Stone said miserably and then I remembered that he'd
actually known Jackson. Not like I had though. He hadn't known him as
an unwavering friend, as a man who was trying every day to be better
than he was the day before.
Evie slipped her arms around Stone's waist and hugged him tightly
even though she obviously had no idea who we were talking about.
"Does Emily know?" Roslyn asked and I saw she was crying. I'd never
seen her cry before.
"I' m not sure," I said, although it was unlikely that Emily was aware at
this point. Kilt and Eli were still reeling and didn't know her well
enough to pay her a visit. Someone would have to tell Jackson' s girl
that he was gone. He didn't have any family worth speaking to. I
wouldn't even know where to start looking for them. He'd been a
throwaway kid. Like me, only I'd had the rest of the Gentrys to pick me
up and Jackson had no one.
Roslyn's tears kept falling and that was almost as painful as hearing one
of my best friends was dead. He had dropped like an anchor in the
middle of the third round of his match, dead before he hit the mat
apparently. Kilt didn' t know too much at this point. There was
speculation about drugs but that was bullshit because I knew Jackson
and I' d bet my right hand he hadn' t done anything harder than vodka in
years. The paramedics thought maybe his heart had just given out. It
seemed impossible that one minute he was strong and standing and the

next, dead and silent. He must not have seen it coming. I didn't know if
that made it better or worse.
All of us had always assumed that if we were ever cut down it would be
violent. We were wrong. Jackson would likely be dead even if he was a
Harvard educated millionaire. There was no such thing as invincibility,
not for anyone.
I put my arm around Roslyn, told my brother I'd call him tomorrow and
walked to my car. I had promised Kilt I would return to the hotel soon
although there wasn't much I could do except hug my remaining
buddies and see about funeral arrangements.
There was no one to point fingers at here, no distracting revenge to
seek. My friend was dead and that was that. Before I returned to the San
Gabriel though I needed to get Roslyn home and tell Emily something
that would break her heart in a way I understood all too well.
When all that was done I could have the luxury of crying.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ROSLYN
The funeral was brief and horribly sad. As I stood there grieving for
someone who was cruelly taken far too soon I kept flashing back to
another day, another funeral.
On the day Erin was buried I cried so hard I vomited in the front seat of
my father's car as we drove away from the cemetery.
Emily cried like that today. As the last words were said over the closed
casket she cried until her legs shook. Conway kept one arm around my
waist and one arm around hers, just so she wouldn't fall.
There were quite a few mourners present. Stone and Evie. Eli and Kilt.
Ranger. Some people I vaguely recognized from the San Gabriel. Some
people I'd never seen before. And finally there were a few others who
stood behind the mourners and watched with morbid fascination. They
were most likely curiosity seekers as the story had received some local
press. Local amateur boxer dead in the ring at the age of twenty-three.
Apparent heart attack due to an undetected medical condition.
Emily's parents had flown in from San Francisco but needed to leave
right after the funeral. They pleaded with Emily to come with them but
she refused. Emily's mother was an older reflection of her daughter.
She hugged me tightly when I said goodbye and told her I would look
after Emily.
When there were no more mourners to talk to, nothing left to say, and
only the wretched task of burial left to fulfill, Conway drove Emily and
I back to our apartment. He seemed especially concerned about Emily
and kept asking if there was anything he could do. I wished there was.
If only someone had invented a cure for a broken heart.
Banana bread was Emily's favorite so I whipped up a batch while she
sat in the living room with Conway. The television was on and one

of the early Harry Potter movies was playing. Even though they were
both looking at the screen I doubted either of them actually watched it.
I also made a quick pasta salad and stuck it in the fridge, hoping Emily
might be hungry later.
While the bread baked I started cleaning up the kitchen but Conway got
off the couch and asked if he could take care of that. I kissed him as we
passed each other and he looked so miserable and so weary I didn't
want to let go. Right now Emily needed me even more than Conway
did though. She didn't look over when I sat beside her but as I took her
hand she gave me a watery smile.
"Em? Would you like some tea or something?"
"Tea," she said, frowning like she'd forgotten what the word meant.
Then she nodded. "Yeah, that might be nice."
Conway was wiping the breakfast bar down. I'd already seen him do it
twice. Maybe he just needed to keep busy. He shook his head when I
asked him if he wanted a cup of tea. Since Jackson's death four days
ago he'd been quiet and grim. I heard him arguing on the phone last
night after he thought I was asleep. Conway angrily told the caller to
fuck off and that he didn't have anything left to prove. When he crept
back to bed he immediately faced away. I didn't let him know that I was
awake.
When I brought Emily her tea she took a few sips and then set it on the
table, announcing that she was tired. She mumbled something about
going to lie down in her bedroom for a while and I told her I'd be right
here when she woke up.
"Poor kid," Conway muttered as he took a seat beside me on the couch.
I crossed my legs underneath me. "I'm worried about her. Maybe it
would have been a good idea for her to fly to San Francisco with her
folks. Her mother asked if I would keep mentioning the idea."
Conway shrugged. "You can't force someone to heal."
"No one's trying to force her to do anything. It's just so hard seeing
someone you care about in pain."
He set his elbows on his knees, leaned forward and dropped his head
into his hands with a sigh. I rubbed the tense muscles in his back

and he relaxed slightly.
"I should get back," he said. "To the San Gabriel?"
"Yeah. Kilt took me aside and said he'd heard a rumor about Ranger. I
asked him to keep the kid indoors and out of trouble until I could figure
out what's going on."
"Trouble? What sort of trouble?"
"I don't know, Roslyn. That's what I need to find out."
My hand fell away. He hadn't spoken sharply, not exactly. It was just
the same kind of brick wall he always put up when it came to talking
about certain things. We'd been together for several months now,
spending almost every minute we could spare with each other. All the
cautious roadblocks of early romance should be giving way to a deeper
kind of intimacy. In a lot of ways they already had. But Conway still
maintained a few stubborn barriers. I was starting to think that if he
couldn't open up to me by this point then there wasn't much hope that
he ever would.
"Conway. Level with me. What kind of trouble are we talking
about?"
He turned his head and just looked at me. He wouldn't say anything so I
challenged him again.
"Drugs? Gambling?" My voice was rising so I made an effort to keep it
down, dropping my voice to a hissing whisper. "That goddamn street
racing that I know you still participate in because you can't bear to part
with the rush you get from it?"
He scowled. "Why do you want to tackle this shit right now?"
"Is there a good time? There never seems to be. When I dare to ask you
questions you either don't answer me, you give some shallow, sarcastic
response, or you use sex to change the subject."
"What's the subject?"
"The people you're involved with. The reason you're afraid to have me
around sometimes. The way you make money."
"I can't change all that overnight, Roslyn. You had to realize that from
the beginning."
"I' m not asking you for instant change. I just want to be included

in your life."
"You think I'm not including you? For fuck's sake, I'm with you every
minute I can be. I don't want or even think about other women."
"That's not the point I was trying to make." I leaned over and rested my
head against his shoulder. "I want to know you."
Conway pushed the hair out of my face and kissed the top of my head.
"You do know me, baby."
"Sometimes I'm afraid when we're not together because I know there's
this whole other world you're a part of that I don't understand."
He sighed and dropped his head. "You know why. You're too good for
that world."
"It's still part of you. Con, I had my eyes wide open when we started
this and I know you're no angel. I don't expect you to tell me absolutely
everything. But some disclosure would go a long way. And we never
talk about the future. Why do we never talk about the
future?"
He raked a hand through his hair. "Because the future's not guaranteed,
not for anyone."
"So what?"
"So why spend all your energy making plans? Plans that might never
come true. Just think, Roslyn. Thinks about events both current and
past. Think about all the those fucking pointless plans that never had a
chance."
"I am thinking. But unlike you, I' m thinking that there' s nothing more
depressing than refusing to have hope. "
Conway looked at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. "I' m here with you
now. Today. I don't want to be with anyone else today. I don't want to
lie down with anyone else today. I don't want to hold anyone else in my
arms or laugh or cry with anyone else today. Isn't that enough?"
"It is," I sighed. "For today. But I'd like to expect that there will be a
tomorrow too. I'd like to know that it's possible to have more than today
with you."
Conway was silent, unmoving. Finally he heaved a sigh and stood up.

"Maybe today is all we get," he said wearily.
There were things I could have said in response. There were things I
could have told him about how I felt and why I was dwelling so much
on the future. But just then I felt too miserable to say anything without
crying so I folded my hands in my lap and stared stonily at the wall.
Conway leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "I hate leaving right
now but I really do have to. I'll call you later." He stepped back and
looked in the direction of Emily's room. "Take care of her."
I nodded. "Of course."
He touched my face. "Take care of yourself, too." "I will if you will."
He managed a small smile. "You' ve got a deal." He started to head for
the door.
"Conway!" I hadn't meant to shout. He turned around and looked at me
with alarm.
I love you.
"I'll see you later," I said. It came out like a question. Conway nodded.
"I promise, honey. I'll come back to you as soon as I can."
Then he was gone.
For the rest of the afternoon I kept hearing our conversation in my
head. His last words seemed significant, even though he probably hadn'
t meant them to be.
Emily emerged from her bedroom in the early evening. To my relief,
she ate a slice of banana bread with a cup of coffee. She still didn' t
want to talk much so we just sat on the couch in our pajamas and had a
Game of Thrones marathon.
Even though Conway was on my mind a lot, I wondered if I was just
overanalyzing the things we'd said to each other today. There was still a
lot we needed to talk about, but today was the wrong time. This week
had been so emotional, in more ways than one.
And at this point Conway Gentry wasn't the only one who was keeping
secrets.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CONWAY
Eli was already packing his bags. He'd been kind of on the fence about
moving in with his ex but Jackson's death had sealed his decision. He
told me he didn' t want to waste his days anymore. He' d found a regular
job bartending at a place owned by a local bookie we' ve dealt with in
the past. I hadn' t told him that Jackson and I had been planning on
opening up a garage together. I hadn't even told Roslyn. It didn' t matter
now anyway.
I was walking by Eli's door when he called me in to ask if I wanted
anything from his room before he gave it away. Apparently the
apartment he was moving to was pretty small and his girlfriend already
had all the furniture they needed.
"When are you leaving?" I asked, taking a seat on a single dining room
chair that was totally out of place.
He sealed a box with packing tape. "Told Jacy I'd be ready to cohabitate
by Monday."
"Jumping in with both feet, huh?"
"Damn right. I prepaid six months of rent as an act of good faith." Eli
shoved the box aside and stood up with hands on both hips. "I've had
enough hustling and random fucking. It's time to sit up straight and act
like a man. Conway, I've got two kids and I've never spent more than
two consecutive days being a dad. I'm lucky as hell that Jacy's willing
to give me another chance to be with her, plus I'll get to see Annie every
day."
"What about your other kid?"
"Dario's mom is starting to come around. I got all caught up on child
support so she's willing to let me have him every other weekend as long
as I'm living in a real place and not a seedy flophouse."
"Flophouse? I'll have you know that the Hotel San Gabriel was

once the premier destination for business travelers forced to visit
Phoenix in her hellacious pre-air conditioning era."
He snorted. "Sounds like you're quoting one of the travel brochures still
hanging down in the lobby."
"I am. Well, loosely paraphrasing anyway."
Eli sat down on the bed across from me, looking serious and sad all of a
sudden. "Seems like losing Jackson has changed the feel of the place
anyway. You ought to think about moving on. I've seen you with your
girl, Con. You've been happier these past few months than I can
remember you ever being and I've known you for a while. She's the
quality type and you shouldn't fuck this up."
"Think I'll take that end table," I said airily as I stood up. "If you don' t
want it."
"It's yours." He cocked his head and made a face. "By the way, Kilt did
some more investigative work on your little protégé. Apparently the
kid used to be one of Fournier's runners. Whatever he did resulted in
some stuff getting dropped off with the wrong people and it cost
Fournier some pocket change. That shouldn' t have been enough to
inflict pain, but you know Fournier. Kid was on the run when you
found him dumpster diving. He should have had sense enough to leave
the damn city."
"Fournier, huh?"
I didn't like the news. Fournier was a petty dealer who also dabbled in
prostitution and underground casinos but he had an appetite for blood
and rarely turned down an excuse to satisfy it.
"I'll take care of it," I said.
Eli eyed me. "You' ll take care of it, huh?"
"That's what I said."
"Why do you care so much?" he asked curiously. "About the kid I
mean."
"I like to switch things up and hand out a few breaks here and
there."
"Seems like a flimsy reason to risk your own neck." "Maybe but don't
worry about it. Fournier's just trying to save face. I'll dangle a few
dollar bills in front of his ugly nose and promise

he won't have to see the kid again. He'll go for it." Eli sighed.
"Whatever you say, Con."
When I got back to my own room I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling
that had set in during my talk with Eli. Actually the feeling hadn' t left
since the night Jackson died but it flared up sometimes more than
others. It wasn't due to learning the details of Ranger's troubles. When I
told Eli I was sure that wouldn' t become a problem I felt confident I
was right. But I kept thinking about what he' d said about me and
Roslyn.
"Why do we never talk about the future? "
She'd asked the question with such resignation, like she believed the
idea of a future with her had never even crossed my mind. Why would
she think otherwise though?
I had a hard time giving voice to all the crazy, romantic thoughts that
whirled around my head when I was with her. If I deserved to have a
future then of course I wanted to spend it with her. As I thought about
the way her eyes would have softened if I just would have said that out
loud I cringed a little.
Instead, everything I did say had come out all wrong.
"You sit on a tack or something?" Kilt joked from the doorway. He
tried to smile as I waved him in but I could tell the big guy's eyes were
still all red. He'd taken Jackson's death as hard as any of us had. In fact
it kind of seemed like the best and most important piece of our
friendship circle had been stolen.
"You know," he said, "I keep expecting to see him around here, just
turning the corner when I walk down the hall."
"I know what you mean."
In fact when I'd returned to the San Gabriel this afternoon I felt like
bawling, as if I hadn't seen and done and enough of that at Jackson's
funeral. Actually I did end up crying again. I just waited until I was in
the stairwell and took the six flights slowly so there was time to get it
all out before facing the guys.
"You holding up?" Kilt asked.
"I guess."
"What are we gonna do with all of his stuff?"

I shrugged. "Haven't been able to locate his blood family and he didn't
think much of them anyway. I guess when his girl is ready to talk about
it I'll leave it up to her."
Kilt bobbed his head like he approved. "Emily, right? Hope she's doing
okay. She didn't look so good at the funeral."
The memory of Emily's tragic face, her endless tears, made me
grimace. "She's crushed, Kilt. She loved him. That's tough to bounce
back from. In fact some people would argue that you can't ever be the
same after losing someone you're in love with."
Kilt gave me a penetrating look. "You know a thing or two about that,
don't you, Con?"
I sighed. "It was a long time ago for me, but yeah, I can guess how
Emily feels today. I can also guess that she won't feel much better
tomorrow but after a while all that hurt will become a raw ache instead
of a sharp pain."
Kilt hung around and we talked for a little while longer. He was
planning on getting out of here within the next few weeks. I was really
going to miss this big red-bearded fool. When I told him so he cracked
a grin and told me I was welcome to visit Backwater, Montana anytime
the desire struck me.
After Kilt was gone the room seemed unnaturally empty. Earlier I had
promised Roslyn that I would return to her as soon as possible. The
thought of her sweet smile and warm body stirred a deep longing inside
of me. We hadn't been apart for more than a few hours and already I
missed her passionately. With all the grief of the past few days the only
solace I could find was in her arms. In fact I was starting to think that
from now on I might not be able to feel whole again without her. That
was not a feeling I ever expected to have again. Roslyn had changed
something fundamental and there was no changing it back.
Before Jackson died I had already realized I didn't want to just live for
today anymore. Not even if there was no guarantee that the sun would
rise tomorrow. For the sake of the people I loved, I needed to have faith
that it would.
When I texted Roslyn to say I would have to stick around here for the
night, I imagined her disappointment and hated myself for doing

it. After ten minutes she texted back the word 'Okay' and that was all.
The sorry fact remained that I had some serious shit to sort out. Only
when that was all done would I be able to give Roslyn what she needed.
I just had to hope by that point that she still wanted me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROSLYN
Eighty five percent.
It sounds like such a high number, such a strong probability of success.
It's a solid B in academic terms. You would hardly even consider the
gaping hole inside that remaining fifteen percent.
Unless you happened to stumble into it.
I felt incredibly stupid for not suspecting earlier but my cycles have
always been woefully irregular. Plus I was flying high under Conway's
spell for the last two months and practical things were sometimes
inconvenient. After six over-the-counter tests I still couldn't believe the
results but the doctor had squashed any doubts.
"Yes," he'd said with wrinkled, kind eyes that turned to pity when I
burst into tears.
He handed me a box of tissues, looked over my chart and cleared his
throat. "You indicated you took the morning after pill two months ago,"
he said. "Unfortunately it only has an effective rate of roughly eighty
five percent. Was that the time of conception?"
"Probably," I answered dully, staring at my knees peeking out from the
paper gown.
Of course there was no doubt the baby was Conway's. I hadn't been
with anyone else in eons. I was still stunned. Aside from that first time
and one semi-careless incident on my living room sofa we'd been
scrupulous about using condoms. I hadn't been worried at all.
Why had I never been worried?
Eighty five percent suddenly sounded like an enormous risk.
"I' m going to order an ultrasound," the doctor said cheerfully. "It will
tell us exactly how far along you are. "
Perhaps sensing my acute shock and misery he gently asked if I wanted
to discuss other options. I shook my head. No, I did not want to

discuss those.
Half an hour later I was lying on my back looking at a screen. In the
center of the screen was a small moving shape. No one had to tell me
that the persistent, rhythmic flicker was a heartbeat. I was ten weeks
pregnant. My due date would be Christmas day.
Conway, Conway.
I had to tell him. And I didn't know how to tell him. These past two
months we'd spent so much time together and it seemed like I ought to
know him fairly well. I knew what made him laugh, what turned him
on, what he put on a hamburger, what position he slept in.
What I didn' t know about Conway Gentry is what he would say when I
went to him with the words, "I'm pregnant." That suddenly seemed like
a terrible oversight on my part, a wide chasm of insecurity.
The past week had been so heartbreaking for everyone. Conway had
stayed away the last few nights and I didn't know if he was just grieving
with his friends or doing something illegal. Maybe he'd been so turned
off by all that talk about the future that he was taking a step back.
I returned to work for the afternoon but I wasn't really doing much
good for anyone. I kept screwing up the paperwork and was scolded for
arriving seven minutes late to a staff meeting. Gustavo found me in the
break room, staring listlessly at the tile floor. When he greeted me
cheerfully I burst into tears for the second time today.
"What's the matter, doll?" he asked gently as he slid into the seat across
the table and touched my hand. "Boy trouble? Aw sweetheart, I' m
sorry. They can be such horrible creatures. "
Without a word I pushed a grainy black and white picture across the
table and allowed it to speak for itself. It felt strange confessing
something to a colleague that I was still struggling to accept myself.
But just then I needed to talk about it and my list of confidantes was
regrettably short. Emily was still reeling from the loss of Jackson. My
father would have been outraged and nothing more.
And Conway...
All I kept thinking about was our last conversation, the distant look in
his eyes before he walked out the door. Conway didn't want love. He

thought love was confusing and painful. I was starting to believe he
might be right.
Gustavo stared at the picture, looked at my face and then nodded. "I
see," he said quietly.
He turned my hand over and placed the ultrasound picture back in my
palm. He walked over to the water cooler, filled a cup of water and set
it in front of me before settling back into his chair.
"Please don't tell anyone," I begged. "I haven't even told the father." I
took a sip of water and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped this
information in your lap. "
"Not at all," he said and touched my hand. "That's what friends are for,
Roslyn. To listen and to console and lend a shoulder if you need one to
cry on." There was so much sympathy in his voice I almost started
sobbing again.
Gustavo probably had better things to do than comfort a crying girl
beside the water cooler, but he was generous enough to sit there with
me until I felt like returning to my desk. Before he walked away he
reminded me that I had his phone number and was welcome to call
anytime I felt like talking.
Instead of going back to my desk I splashed some cool water on my
face and went for a walk. The children of Homestead had just been
dropped off by the school bus and the courtyard buzzed with boisterous
activity. A couple of the kids shouted my name and waved with glee. I
waved back and took a seat on a nearby stone bench. It was sturdy and
expensive and one of a dozen that had been donated to the facility a few
months back, a charitable contribution from the estate of a local
socialite.
After school care was available to working parents and the children
were quickly ushered to their afternoon activities. They would be given
a snack and encouraged to do their homework until their parents
arrived to pick them up.
A young woman pushing a stroller was singing softly in Spanish as she
walked by. She suddenly stopped, leaned over and smiled at the
sleeping baby girl. I remembered her name. Adele. She'd arrived with
her baby and her older sister about a month ago. The father of the child
had suffered a terrible construction accident when his daughter was

only one week old. The last I heard he was still in a coma.
Adele saw me watching and she beamed. "I always have to walk to get
her to nap," she said in heavily accented English. "Otherwise she will
be always awake."
I admired the sleeping child. "She's breathtaking."
"She is," Adele said. "I am lucky." She shyly smiled at me once more
before returning to her walk and her song.
I remained there on that bench for so long that it was actually time to go
home. Some of Homestead's residents were starting to return from the
jobs they'd worked hard at all day. Those who were parents looked
eager as they headed right for the childcare wing. I wondered what that
was like, to bear the responsibility of being a parent. All these parents
hurrying to retrieve their children, they all loved and struggled and
sacrificed. I didn't know what that was like. I would need to learn.
When I arrived home the apartment was dark and Emily was asleep on
the couch. She'd been so devastated in the days following Jackson's
death that she stopped going to work. They'd called yesterday to
formally fire her and she hadn't even seemed to care. I was worried
about her. I knew her family was worried about her.
Emily flinched when I tucked a blanket around her shoulders but then
she settled back down. I tiptoed to my bedroom and shut the door.
I hadn' t heard from Conway at all since yesterday. The ultrasound
picture I'd shown to Gustavo was in the pocket of my skirt. I took it out
now and stared at it. My hand went to my stomach almost
automatically and the surge of love I instantly felt had nothing to do
with me or with Conway.
Nothing to do with us. And yet everything to do with us.
I propped the ultrasound picture on my dresser, against an antique
wooden treasure box that reminded me every day that life was precious
and that love didn't die, not even when life ended.
My phone was in my hand, my finger hovering over the screen, when
there was a soft knock on the door.
"Roslyn?"
I tossed the phone onto the nightstand. "Come in, Em."

My friend walked into my room looking smaller and younger than she
had this time a week ago. I had a sudden flashback to the first day I'd
met Emily. I hadn't been at my new school long and wasn't going out of
my way to be friendly to anyone. I missed Emblem and I missed my
best friend. I didn't want this new town and new house and new people.
I certainly didn't want this exclusive private school where I didn't seem
to fit in at all. I'd been sitting alone at the end of a cafeteria table,
picking at the chicken salad I'd bought for lunch, when Emily plopped
right down across from me and started talking. She asked questions and
then answered her own questions before I could. During lulls in the
conversation she would randomly sing a line or two from Broadway
show tunes. For the first time since my father had dragged me out of
Emblem to live his idea of a better life, I found myself smiling. Emily
ate lunch with me every day that week. Over the years she defended me
against gossipy classmates and stayed in touch when high school
ended. She was one of two true friends I've been lucky enough to know
in my life.
Emily sat beside me on the bed and instantly tucked her legs
underneath her. She frowned and pushed her black hair behind her ears.
"Roslyn, my folks keep suggesting that I move to San Francisco for a
few months or maybe a year. At first I said no. But now, I don't know, I
can' t seem to shake myself out of this funk. I have no job and they have
this beautiful guesthouse where I can stay as long as I want. My mom
even offered me a temporary job at the hospital. I know our lease is up
next month and we were going to renew but-"
"Em." I put my arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I think it might be
good for you to have a change of scenery."
"But what about you?"
"I'll be all right. I'll just run an ad for a new roommate in the personals
section of Bob's List. References unnecessary. What could go wrong?"
She smiled through her tears. "Don't do that." "Okay, I won't. It'll work
it out. I'll find a one bedroom unit or something."
Emily tugged at her lip. "Maybe Conway could."

"When are you leaving?" I interrupted with false cheer because I didn't
want to talk about what Conway could and couldn't do right now. He
had never said a word about the possibility of living together and I sure
as hell wasn't bringing it up.
"Two weeks is what I was thinking. I'm going to put some stuff in
storage and the rest I can ship. I don't want to stay in San Francisco
forever. I' m just having a hard time being here right now."
"I know," I said. For a terrible second I tried to put myself in Emily's
shoes, tried to imagine how I'd feel if it were Conway instead of
Jackson who had died suddenly. Then I immediately had to put my
hand over my mouth because I almost vomited from the rush of
anguish.
"Roe?" Emily asked, staring at me with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I swallowed, tasting sour bile. "I just didn' t eat lunch."
She sighed. "How' s Conway by the way? I know how close he and
Jackson were."
"He's sad. He's fine. I don't know how he is."
Emily looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Are you guys fighting or
something?"
"No. We're not fighting."
I almost told her. It would have felt good to talk through the worry and
the anxiety. But I'd already promised myself that I would hold off on
spreading the news to anyone else until I had a chance to tell Conway.
Plus Emily would worry enough that it might derail her plans to make
the move to San Francisco.
"You love him," she said quietly.
"Yes," I said because it was true.
Her face crumpled. "I loved Jackson. I know we weren't together all
that long but I loved him."
"I know. I'm so sorry, Em."
Emily leaned against my shoulder until her sobs lessened. Finally she
raised her head and wiped her tears away. She said she was going to run
down to the sushi place on the corner and get some takeout. The

thought of eating anything more complicated than a slice of bread made
my stomach lurch so I said no when she asked if I wanted anything.
Emily hugged me before she left the room and as she walked away I
thought I detected a shift in her. She would always mourn her lost love,
always glimpse small reminders of him in the world and remember.
She wouldn't let that defeat her though. That's what Jackson would
have wanted for her. That' s what all the people who loved us would
have wanted after we' d been left behind. They would want us to
remember them. And to keep living.
I was drifting off to sleep when my phone erupted. I knew from the ring
tone that it was Conway calling. Right now I was so tired though. I
didn' t have the energy to talk about the things that needed to be talked
about.
Tomorrow would be a better time. And tomorrow would be here before
I knew it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
CONWAY
Through a series of unsavory connections I' d gotten in touch with
Fournier, the asshole minor league pimp who was gunning for Ranger.
Even though Fournier wasn' t nearly as big and bad as he thought he
was I made the necessary overtures of respect and agreed to a meeting
on his terms. Kilt insisted that he needed to come along and I'd be glad
to have him at my back even though Fournier wasn't dumb enough to
make a move against me. He was the kind of low life who only kicked
smaller animals that couldn't bite back.
Over the last few days I'd done little else but babysit Ranger and make a
plan for extricating myself from the life I've been living for so long. For
years I'd carefully kept out of scuffles so I couldn't think of anyone who
would be keeping me on a hit list. That would make moving on a lot
easier. I had no gang affiliation and wasn't part of an organized crime
ring, not in the way Hollywood depicted it anyway. Everyone I dealt
with was small time and even though a few eyebrows might be raised
over the notion of Con Gentry going straight I couldn't think of anyone
who would gain a thing by coming after me.
I had to make sure though. I had to be absolutely sure of that before I
committed to Roslyn. It would be unfair to her and possibly dangerous
if I cut ties and skipped off to live the good life only to get sucked back
into the maelstrom. In all my diverse and sundry acquaintances I could
only think of one man who had gone straight a long time ago without
looking back and had it all work out. He' d always been good to me and
he would understand better than anyone. He was surprised to get a call
but invited me to stop by this evening.
Deck Gentry's little daughter Isabella answered the door. She was
carrying the same baby doll she'd been clutching the day of Evie and

Stone's engagement party.
"Hi you," she said and then darted back into the interior of the house.
Jenny appeared a second later and invited me in. She led me to the
kitchen where Deck was frowning over a large steel pot on the stove.
"I can't remember if I added garlic," he said.
"I'll take over," Jenny said, kissing him on the lips and peering into the
pot as she picked up a large wooden spoon. "You go talk to Conway."
Deck led me to the backyard and indicated I ought to take a seat at one
of the cushioned chairs that circled a large round table. There was
nothing remotely unfriendly about the curious look on my cousin's face
but I felt slightly anxious anyway, just a dumb kid in the presence of
the great, awe-inspiring Deck Gentry.
"I' m done," I told him flatly. "With racing, with gambling, with
skulking around in the company of the other shadows. I'm fucking
done, Deck."
He stared at me for a moment, his inscrutable dark eyes searching my
face, perhaps deciding if I was sincere or not. The he broke into a wide
smile and leaned forward suddenly to slap my back.
"I' m so glad to hear that, Con," he said.
I nodded. "It's long overdue. Shit, I should have listened to you years
ago when you tried to get me to walk a different path. I'm sorry,
Deck."
Deck waved an impatient hand. "That don't fucking matter now. You
need a job? You got one. A place to crash? Crash here."
"Nah, I'm good. Got quite a bit saved up and that should help me start
over."
He raised an eyebrow. "You planning staying in the Phoenix area? Or
is there a reason you need to leave?"
"Not leaving. Actually I've got a pretty good reason to stay."
He grinned. "I've heard she's quite a looker. Your reason, that
is."
"Who told you that?"
"Stone. He's been hoping your girl would be the incentive you

needed to turn away from the dark side." I snorted. "I'm not Darth
Vader."
Deck grew serious. "Conway, I will say this. Love alone won't keep
you from sliding backwards. That has to come from somewhere inside
you."
"I get it, Deck. I'm ready."
"You need my help with anything? My name still means something so
don't be afraid to use it."
I shook my head. "No, I got it covered. There' s just some loose ends to
tie up, that' s all."
Deck was happy. He grinned from ear to ear. "What' s your girl' s name,
anyway? Stone might have said it already but I forgot. "
"Roslyn." The sound of her name stirred a wave of strong feelings that
both complemented and conflicted with each other. Desire. Panic.
Peace. Happiness. I wasn't making this change entirely for her, but I
still needed to give her the best version of myself that I could.
Deck nudged me with a knowing look. "I get it. I've been there, man."
We talked for a little while and then Jenny Gentry opened the sliding
glass door to the patio, announcing that dinner would be ready in ten
minutes. Little Isabella clung to her mother's side and stared at me with
solemn eyes. When Deck opened his arms the little girl beamed and ran
to him. She laughed when he swept her up and tickled her.
They wanted me to stay for dinner and I would have liked that. I had
things to do though so I reluctantly said goodbye and headed back to
the city.
I was only a few miles from downtown when Kilt called. He sounded
upset, which made me clutch the steering wheel tighter because Kilt
didn't get upset unless there was a really serious reason.
In spite of the fact that I had repeatedly warned Ranger to stay put at the
San Gabriel until I had a chance to pay Fournier a visit, he didn' t listen.
Ten minutes ago Kilt found Fingers, our favorite homeless, handless
veteran, carrying on in the lobby about what he'd seen outside the
corner convenience store.
Ranger had just emerged with a giant fountain soda in his hand

when two shady looking guys grabbed him. They hauled him away and
shoved him into a car. I couldn't be sure that they were Fournier's boys
but I would have bet the pink slip of my favorite Mustang that he had
something to do with it.
"Fuck," I said into the phone. I was pissed at myself for not taking care
of this already, pissed at Fournier for being such a douchebag, and
pissed at Ranger for refusing to obey instructions that would keep his
neck from getting broken.
"Con," Kilt said, "Come and get me before you do anything."
"I will," I promised even though I was lying. I was afraid Ranger might
not have much time.
I made a call to one of Fournier's well known buddies, asked where I
might find him and then made a quick stop at a bank where I kept a safe
deposit box.
In an old, run down section of town that hadn't fallen under the spell of
developers yet, there were some bars, strip clubs and sex shops hanging
on. I found that fat fuck Fournier playing cards at a table in a titty bar.
He didn' t look surprised to see me. He even waved. I exhaled with
relief when I caught a glimpse of Ranger slouched miserably in a chair
in the corner. I couldn't see him that well in the dark but it didn't look
like they'd roughed him up too much. Yet. His eyes widened when he
saw me and I wondered why he just sat there kind of slumped over but
then I realized both his hands were handcuffed to the lower rungs of the
chair.
"You want in, Gentry?" Fournier called. "We're about to start another
round. Five hundred dollar buy in."
I pulled up a chair and took a calming breath before speaking, trying to
keep the anger out of my voice. "Thought we had an arrangement
where the kid was concerned."
Fournier looked up, pretended to think for a minute, and then nodded.
"Oh, that," he said cheerfully. "Yeah, we still do. The boys just
happened to run into him and decided to be courteous and invite him
over for a visit."
Three of Fournier's guys were at the table and another one was hunched
over the bar. Their reptilian eyes had been fastened on me

since I walked through the door. I had to hope that Fournier hadn' t
gotten so full of himself that he would do something dumb.
Two of the strippers visited with a round of drinks. One of them I
recognized. Clea was her name, or at least that was the name she gave
freely. She had once worked at one of the other clubs I used to visit
often and I could remember having a few dirty times with her. Then
one day I caught her trying to lift my wallet and that was the end of that.
Either she'd forgotten that last part or she figured all was forgiven
because when she saw me she curled her lip in a sexy sneer and sidled
over. I didn't react at all when she touched my shoulder and ran her
hand down my chest. Her fingernails were like red talons and she
smelled like smoke and desperation. Even if Roslyn hadn't been in the
picture I wouldn't have been remotely interested.
Deliberately I moved my chair six inches to the right to deliver the
polite but firm message that I didn't want whatever she was offering.
She let out a soft hiss but didn't look back when she moved on to the
next table.
Fournier's attention was on the cards but he looked up when I cleared
my throat. In my right hand I flashed a stack of green and then passed it
under the table.
"I think this will take care of any confusion," I said as his sweaty, eager
fingers closed around the cash.
Fournier grinned. "All right, Conway. Due to the nature of our
affectionate friendship your little buddy gets a break for today. But I've
changed my mind about anything permanent. You get what I' m
saying? Amnesty is not extended for tomorrow. "
My mouth was dry. "I get it," I said tightly.
In other words, Ranger had to get the hell out of town or Fournier's
goons might decide to decorate downtown Phoenix with his entrails.
As Fournier's two beefy sidekicks roughly handed Ranger over, the boy
was still trying to look tough and unaffected. He managed to keep up
the illusion until we were back in my car. I hadn't even pulled out into
the street yet when his shoulders started shaking and his chest heaving.
It seemed kinder to ignore the way he sobbed with abandon and after a
few minutes he pulled himself together anyway.

Ranger didn't say anything as we parked in the cavernous city garage
beside the Hotel San Gabriel. He followed me closely into the lobby,
which was empty except for old Fingers, who was now snoring in a
corner.
Up on the sixth floor, Kilt was waiting with a barrage of questions and
griping. Ranger slumped against a wall, nodding silently when I
ordered him to stay put for a minute. Kilt listened to my summary of
current events and sighed when I told him the kid needed to get out of
town. He offered to kick in some cash but I assured him I had it covered
and gave him a grateful shoulder slap before grabbing a duffel bag out
of my room and returning to Ranger.
Ranger was exactly where I'd left him and he watched me with eyes
that were grieved but accepting.
"I guess I need to leave," he said.
"Yes, you do. The sooner the better because that asshole's not exactly a
man of his word and I wouldn't count on his good mood lasting more
than a few hours. Come on, I'll help you pack up."
He didn' t have much and most of what he did have was bought with the
money I'd given him. Some clothes, toiletries and a few personal
effects. The backpack he' d been carrying when I found him dumpster
diving months ago was virtually shredded so he stuffed everything in
my duffel bag.
By now it was totally dark out and the tweakers tended to come
creeping out of their rooms more often after dark. Some of them were
down in the lobby, lining up elaborate towers of what looked like white
dinner mints. They managed to step out of their drug addled heads long
enough to bid Ranger farewell when he told them goodbye. Fingers
even woke up in time to offer a toothless grin.
It was a short drive to the big downtown bus station. From there Ranger
could buy a ticket to any one of two dozen cities across the country. He
didn't say anything and I kept combing my brain, trying to think of
what advice I ought to give him. We parked outside the terminal and
watched people walk back and forth.
"You got any family who would take you back?" I finally asked
him.

Ranger shook his head sadly. "No."
"How old are you anyway?"
He smiled. "Eighteen."
"Minus at least a couple of months I'd bet."
"That might be a bet you'd win."
"In any case, here's some cash I owe you for some of the odd jobs
you've been doing."
His eyes bugged out when he saw the money. "Holy shit."
I tapped his forehead with the stack of cash. "Don't be stupid about
spending it, you hear me? Keep it taped to your skin and don't tell a soul
about it. No bragging to the next doe-eyed little minx you want to get
naked with. This will help you get out of town and start over so don't
squander it because I won't be able to give you anymore."
I stuffed the money into his palm and he just sat there for a minute,
staring at it.
He sniffed and ran the back of his hand across his nose. He'd filled out
quite a bit now that he was eating regular meals. A smart, good looking
kid like Ranger ought to be able to find his way somehow. Hopefully
he'd learned some valuable lessons that would keep him from making
the wrong choices.
"Thanks, Conway," he said gravely. "I know that's inadequate but it's
all I've got. You've been more than decent to me."
"Yeah well, decency is a character trait I'm trying out."
"You wear it well." He gave me a penetrating look, then slowly smiled.
"It's because of the girl isn't it? The really pretty one. I can tell you're
nuts about her."
"She might have something to do with it. "
That was true. Roslyn did have something to do with the way my better
angels were winning these days. It wasn't all because of her though.
Deck was right. A man can look at a woman and want to be the kind of
man she deserves but he has to want it for himself too or it just won't
stick. And I planned to make these revisions stick. "Any idea where
you'll go?" I asked him.
He looked out the window, squinting into darkness. "Nowhere cold,
that's for sure. But somewhere a little less sun scorched than

Phoenix."
"Shouldn't be too hard to find a match. I don't think anyplace is quite as
scorching as Phoenix."
He was staring down at his lap, his hands clutching his bag. He looked
a little scared but he'd hardly be human if he wasn't. Still, I had hope for
him. He was a clever kid and he seemed like he had enough of a heart to
keep him whole without being soft enough to doom him. If he made the
right decisions from here on out then he had a chance.
"Conway," Ranger said but couldn't seem to follow it up with anymore
words.
He looked out the window and I knew he was already thinking about
leaving this place behind and wondering where he'd be tomorrow.
"I know," I said somberly, reaching over to push the door open for him.
"And you're welcome."
Ranger gave me one final grateful smile and eased out of the car,
shutting the door softly behind him. He just stood there on the other
side for a minute, looking at all the people who were milling around
with individual secret purposes. Then he took his first step and started
to become one of them.
As Ranger started walking away I kept thinking about Roslyn.
And the future. And Jackson. And the past. And all my brothers, my
cousins, their wives, their children.
I pushed the button to open the window, realizing that I couldn't let that
kid go out into the wide terrifying world without sharing the only
valuable piece of wisdom I'd come by these last twenty-three years.
"Hey Ranger," I called. He hadn't gotten far and he turned around, a
question mark in his eyes. "You go find your people," I told him.
"Whoever they are. Blood isn't the only way to go about it. But people
are the only things in this world worth searching for, worth sacrificing
for, worth keeping. So you keep looking until you find yours, okay?"
He cocked his head and I got the feeling he thought I was off my
rocker. But then he nodded. "I will."
I kept my eyes on him until he disappeared into the small grey building
where he could buy a ticket to that distant, idyllic place that

wasn't too cold or too hot. A place he could learn to call home.
As I backed the car out and headed for the road I had a sudden, fervent
urge to see Roslyn. I missed her all the time and I felt bad about the fact
that I hadn't really kept her in the loop lately.
She didn't answer when I called her phone. I almost left a voicemail but
then changed my mind. Then I almost just drove to her apartment but I
changed my mind about that too. It was late. She might be tired. She
might be angry at me for failing to be up front with her, for letting her
believe I'd never even given a thought to a future with her.
I'm here, baby. Don't give up on me, not yet.
I loved her.
I just needed to tell her that and trust that she still cared to hear it.

CHAPTER TWENTY
ROSLYN
When I told Emily where I was going she immediately offered to go
with me but I just wanted to be alone. The drive would feel good and it
seemed like so much time had passed since I' d been back to Emblem. I
had never called in sick in the year I'd worked at Homestead so no one
would bat an eye.
Phyllis was the one who answered the phone. When I tried to sound
pathetic and said I wouldn't be in today she gently asked me if I was
going to be okay. I told her yes, I was sure all would be well by
Monday. She hesitated and told me to get better over the weekend.
My hand went instinctively to my stomach after I tossed my phone in
my purse. I wondered if anyone else could tell I was pregnant just by
looking at me. It wasn't likely. I wasn't showing yet but now that I knew
I could detect slight changes in my body and felt like an idiot for not
recognizing them earlier. My breasts were fuller, more tender. My
stomach, which has always been fit and firm, now felt vaguely swollen
when I ran my palm over the area between my belly button and pelvic
bone. Soon it would be tougher to hide the truth.
As for Conway, he wouldn't have wanted to come so I didn't call him.
Emblem wasn't high on his destinations of choice and it wouldn't have
made a good setting for the kind of conversation we still needed to
have.
Even though I needed to head in the opposite direction to get on the
freeway, I drove past the Hotel San Gabriel anyway. In its day it must
have been the crown jewel in a fledgling city but now it just looked like
a tired relic trying in vain to reach for the sky. I felt mildly guilty for
ignoring Conway's call last night but if I tried to reach him now I'd
probably just wake him up and then we'd have an awkward exchange or
maybe argue.
As the San Gabriel faded in my rearview mirror I switched my

phone off. I wasn't expecting to find any answers in Emblem. I just
wanted to visit my best friend. I wanted to remember where I'd come
from. Maybe after that I'd be able to figure out where I was going next.
Most of the traffic was crawling into Phoenix, not leaving. There was a
long, silvery line of vehicles en route to just one more workday before
the weekend. It felt liberating to head the other way. Soon the city
skyline gave way to the more subdued outline of the suburbs. In terms
of area the Phoenix metropolitan region was enormous, stretching
endless arms in either direction. I was going beyond the southeastern
fringes to the town I was born in, a place people always planned on
leaving if they could.
It looked the same. Emblem never changed much, not in the ways that
made a big difference. The sprawling prison complex was the first
thing you saw when you entered the town limits. If you kept going you
would cross into the quaint historic district that still boasted a few
adobe buildings left over from the wild west territorial era. The
Emblem Memorial Cemetery was impossible to miss. It had been in the
same place since the town was founded, although it had grown
outwards as the need arose.
By this time it was nearly ten o'clock in the morning. When I parked
and stepped outside I took note of how the air seemed so much fresher
than it did in Phoenix. Out here you could smell the raw desert that had
been obscured by asphalt and concrete elsewhere.
I easily found my way to Erin's grave. I'd been here enough times that it
would have been odd if I couldn't. As always I felt my throat tighten
with tears when I saw her name spelled out above the tragically short
span of her life. I swallowed those tears and knelt down to talk to her. I
always talked to her when I came here. I always felt sure that she heard
me.
"Hey, sis," I said gently as I curled my legs underneath me.
I reached into my purse and withdrew a small tissue-wrapped mound,
which I unwrapped and set at the base of the gravestone. It was a
polished moonstone that I'd found at a spiritual shop inside the mall.
The yellowing label hanging beneath the display had said moonstones
were often worn as an amulet, instilling feelings of love and

positive emotions in the wearer. While I didn't know if that was true or
nonsense, I liked the sound of it and I knew Erin would have
appreciated it too.
Today I'd also worn my crystal, the one she'd given me so long ago. As
I talked I touched the chain for comfort. I told her about Conway, then
about me and Conway. At first I felt funny about it but as the words
poured out something heavy in my chest began to dissolve. If there was
such a thing as the hereafter then I was afraid Erin might not want to
hear that I was having the life she never got to live with Conway. But
the only feelings that washed over me were love and understanding. I
told her we missed her. I told her about the baby.
Skeptics would insist my imagination was to blame, but when I was
done talking I lowered my head and felt a soft hand touch my left
shoulder in comfort. I looked but of course I saw no one there.
"Goodbye for now," I told her as I stood and brushed the grass from my
legs.
My car was the only one in the parking lot. I guess Friday morning is
not a common time to visit the dead. As I drove out of the lot toward
Main Street I thought I heard my name, which would have been
unlikely since the car windows were closed. Anyway, when I craned
my neck around I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary so I kept
driving.
There wasn't really much else to do here but I didn't feel like leaving
yet. I drove past the family diner where my tenth birthday party had
been held. I saw the elementary school where I'd played in the shade of
an ancient mesquite tree and laughed with my best friend. Finally I
headed to the residential neighborhood that surrounded the historic
section of downtown. This was the decent part of Emblem where I'd
lived, where Erin had lived, where Conway had lived.
My old house was unrecognizable. The handsome red brick had been
painted pink, a big flower garden had been added, and a pair of red
tricycles were in the driveway. It looked like a family lived there and I
was glad. I wondered if the owners of the tricycles slept in my old
bedroom.
The street where Erin and Conway had lived was only three blocks

away. I couldn't remember the last time I'd passed by here, but Erin's
house looked exactly the same. In fact I decided I had to park and take a
closer look because for a confusing moment I felt like I'd fallen into a
time warp. Long ago this house had been almost as familiar to me as
my own. The driveway was still cracked in exactly the same places.
The front door was unchanged. Even the bougainvillea shrubs seemed
like they had stopped growing. I stood there at the end of the driveway
and almost couldn't believe Erin wasn't about to come running out the
front door, her long dark hair flying behind her as she laughed.
Conway's old house was next door but it didn't look at all how I
remembered it. I couldn't recall ever having been inside but it did seem
like whoever the current owner was had cleaned up the exterior a bit,
repairing the roof and resurfacing a broken concrete path with pavers. I
couldn't picture Conway here in the same way I could almost see Erin
standing in front of the house next door, but I knew he' d been here.
He'd probably occupied this very spot on the sidewalk between his
house and Erin's dozens of times. The longer I stood there the more I
could feel his presence nearby.
Then I turned around and saw him.
I must have been so lost in my own thoughts that I never heard his car
drive up and park across the street. He was leaning against the driver's
side door as if he'd been there all along.
My first thought was that I wanted to run into his arms.
My second thought was the one I blurted out though.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
He crossed the street slowly, his gaze never shifting from my face. He
looked tired, unshaven, and positively gorgeous.
"Emily said you were here," he explained, a little sheepishly. "I
dropped by your apartment this morning, hoping to catch you before
you went to work and Emily told me you were talking a drive to
Emblem. But whenever I called your phone it kept going straight to
voicemail." He glanced over at his old house, then at Erin's old house.
Then he swallowed and looked at me. "I tried the cemetery first, saw
you driving away. I followed you. Didn't you see me?"
"No. Were you shouting my name?"

He looked puzzled. "No. You wouldn't have heard me." "Probably
not."
I dropped my purse on the ground and leaned against the hood of my
car. My head suddenly felt a little funny. I hugged my body and bent
forward, worried I might fall over.
Conway was at my side instantly, one strong arm sliding across the
back of my waist for support. "What's wrong, babe? You sick or
something?"
I lifted my head. "Or something."
"What?"
"I' m pregnant."
There was no gasping. No cursing. His arm did not budge from my
waist.
"Did you hear me, Conway?" "I heard you," he croaked.
I spoke louder. "I'm pregnant. And just so there's no confusion, I'm sure
it's yours. Remember that pill I took after our careless episode of wall
banging a few months ago? Well, that pill' s not as great as I thought it
was. They should really make the warnings on the box bigger so that it'
s not such a shock. Because I was shocked. Are you shocked? I' m due
on Christmas day which is nice because I know I won't forget my due
date. You won't forget it either, will you?"
"Roslyn," Conway said sternly. He gripped me by the shoulders and
turned me around until I faced him. His eyes were strangely ablaze and
I wondered if he was angry. He tipped my chin up and looked at me for
a moment that seemed to last forever. "I'm not going anywhere."
I shook my head out of his grasp and backed away. "You really should.
Go somewhere I mean. So should I. This is not a good place to
do this."
Conway looked around and frowned. Perhaps it was just now really
hitting him where we were. He shrugged and advanced a step. "No,
we're not going anywhere just yet. This is as good a place as any to
talk."
I sat down on the curb beside my car. Conway dropped down next to
me.

He took a deep breath. "How long have you known?" he asked gently.
"I took the first test the day of Jackson's funeral. But the doctor only
confirmed it yesterday." I pulled my knees up and rested my forehead
against them. "Conway, I'm sorry."
"What the hell are you sorry for?" he asked.
My tears were back. Damn them. They had a mind of their own these
days. "This wasn't planned."
"For God's sakes, Roslyn, I know that. We were both careless. We' re
both responsible."
I shook my head. He wasn't understanding my point. "You didn't sign
on for this," I whispered miserably. "Being stuck like this... it's not
what you want."
"How do you know?" he said sharply. Then he sighed and pressed his
palm to his forehead for a second like he was in pain. "You don' t know
what I want because I don't tell you. That's not your fault, it's mine. But
I spent the morning trying to catch up with you because I can' t let
another hour go by without telling you. "
I took a deep breath. "Well here I am. What do you want to tell me,
Conway?"
"I love you."
He'd said it so quickly, so matter-of-factly. As the seconds passed I
stopped being sure I'd even heard him right.
"I love you," he said again. He shifted positions, kneeling in front of
me, holding my face in his hands. "I love you and I want to be with you.
I don't just mean at this moment. I mean I want to be with you tonight,
on New Year's Eve and two years from next Saturday."
This wasn't making sense. Conway didn't say things like this. When we
were together I never doubted that I had all his attention but I also
understood that he was the kind of guy who lived in the moment. He'd
even told me so.
I shook out of his grip. "I don't get it. You can hardly bring yourself to
discuss plans for tomorrow and now you 're talking about where we'll
be years from now? Remember what you said? 'Maybe today is all we
get.' You don't like to think beyond today."

He ran a gentle finger across my cheek and I closed my eyes. When I
opened them I saw those deep blue eyes that always left me weak. This
time they were begging to be believed.
"I was wrong. I'm going to have faith that today is not all we get. By
god, I' m demanding all of the tomorrows too and I want to live them
with you."
I took his hand and pressed it to my stomach. "There's more than just
me now. There's more than just us."
As Conway spread his palm across my stomach I watched his
expression grow tender and determined all at once. "Roslyn, this is us."
"I do love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."
He shut his eyes and when he opened them I saw the tears. "Could you
say that again?" he asked.
"I love you, Conway Gentry."
He took me in his arms, pulling me right into his lap and burying his
face in my neck. I held him. I breathed him in and felt the strength of
his heartbeat. If someone were observing us from a window they
probably would have wondered what kind of tragedy had reduced us to
squatting on the curb in the middle of Emblem, Arizona and sobbing in
each other's arms. There was no heartbreak here though, not today.
There was only love and understanding.
Eventually Conway gingerly lifted me to my feet. He took my hand
almost shyly.
"So what do we do now?" I asked.
He grinned. "For starters, you can kiss me."
I smiled back and slipped my arms around his neck. "I have a better
idea, Gentry. Why don't you kiss me?"

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CONWAY
"Why Creed?" Roslyn asked when I told her where I was going today.
The toaster dinged. I grabbed the two whole-wheat pieces of toast, put
them on a plate and set the plate before Roslyn. She groaned and made
a face.
"None of that," I told her firmly. "You know you'll feel better if you get
a little something in your stomach."
"I'll try but you'd better steer clear of the sink in case I need to
barf."
"Just a few bites," I coaxed. "And drink your ginger tea."
Roslyn scowled but she picked up a slice of toast.
"Quit hovering," she grumbled. She took a dainty bite, chewed slowly
and swallowed with a grimace, chasing it with a sip of tea as I watched.
"Good girl!" I exclaimed.
She set her mug down, still cranky but with a trace of a smile playing
on her lips. "I'm not a dog, Con."
"Of course not. You're a gorgeous, glowing mother-to-be." I bent down
and kissed her cheek. "Now eat a little bit more. You've got to leave for
work in about fifteen minutes."
"Are you still going to look at rentals this afternoon?" she asked as she
nibbled her toast.
"Yeah. Deck put me in touch with an agent friend of his and he's got
some good leads in decent neighborhoods. I' ll send you pics if I come
across anything worthwhile. "
Roslyn nodded and looked around the apartment. She sighed but it
sounded like a happy sigh. We were kind of living in limbo right now.
After Emily moved to San Francisco last week I abandoned the

Hotel San Gabriel for good. I ditched the few pieces of furniture I had
and almost everything else was occupying a handful of boxes in
Roslyn's living room. There was no point in unpacking because her
lease was up here next month and we were looking for a place together.
Somewhere with a yard and enough space for a kid. Babies might be
small but I've heard all their accessories can take up a lot of space. I was
still adapting to the idea of being a dad but the more I thought about it
the more excited I got.
"Conway?" Roslyn said. She was watching me in the curiously cute
way she had where she tilted her head slightly and played with a lock of
hair. "You still didn't answer my first question. Why go to Creed
instead of Chase or Cord? From what you've told me it seems like you
get along with them much better than Creed. "
I considered that. Even though I'd already given the matter some
thought it was tough to put it into words. "Actually I thought about
getting the three of them together and telling them all at the same time
but I don't know, the whole grandiose reveal thing seems tacky."
"It is quite a revelation though. You think Creed will be mad or
something?"
"No, not mad. I mean, I guess he might be annoyed because I've known
for years and haven't seen fit to tell them. Still, I kind of doubt that will
bug him. But Creed is a straight talker. If he doesn't want me as a
brother then it's going to be hard for him to hide it. And that moment
ought to be a private confrontation between the two of us, rather than
something that's going to get between him and Cord and Chase."
Roslyn stood, walked over and slid her arms around my waist. "In that
case, here's a hug for good luck."
As she pressed close my body responded instantly. She felt it and
leaned in for a kiss. It didn't take long to get real worked up; my tongue
in her mouth, her hand stroking my dick, my fingers sliding inside her
panties.
Then she pulled away with a groan and glanced at the oven clock.
"Damn, I've got to go."
I held on to her stubbornly. "Can't you be five minutes late?" She
smirked. "When do you only take five minutes?"

"Not for me," I murmured, turning her gently until her sweet ass was
pressed against my dick. "I want to make sure you start your day off
right."
"What-" she started to ask but I stopped any further inquiries by hiking
her skirt up and pushing my hand between her legs. I didn' t waste any
time getting to the right spot and I enjoyed every second as she moaned
and squirmed and shuddered and came under the spell of my fingers.
"That was nice," she breathed as I helped her get her skirt back in place.
She turned her head and grinned at me. "I really do have to go but I
promise to return the favor tonight. "
"Believe me, honey, I know you will. And you' ll fucking love every
second."
She shouldered her purse with a blush. "You' re so cocky, Conway."
"You' re so amazing, Roslyn."
She paused at the door. "I'll miss you all day."
"I'll miss you too. Here, don't forget your lunch."
I kissed her one more time and then let her go. Tonight would be
something worth looking forward to but right now I needed to take care
of this pesky urge so I could have a clear head. I visited the bedroom,
indulged in a pleasant jerkoff session with a pair of Roslyn's black
panties, then showered off and left.
When I talked to Deck yesterday he said he thought that Creed arrived
to work at the club he was managing by around ten, although he wasn't
sure. If he was curious about why I wanted to talk to Creed alone he
didn't ask. I'd give Deck all the details soon enough. Stone and I were
already meeting him for a lengthy strategy session tomorrow afternoon
to discuss the garage venture. When I'd mentioned the idea to Stone he
was enthusiastic and wanted to be part of it. Of course Stone would
have been enthusiastic about just about anything that would put me on
a lawful road but he seemed genuinely thrilled at the idea of working
with me.
I was thrilled too. The Gentry brothers, together again.
There was enough cash for initial startup but I'd need a cosigner to

lease a space because in the legitimate world I wasn't all that good
looking on paper. Deck had stepped in and offered to do whatever he
could to help. Cord pretty much ran Scratch these days and Deck had
been looking for another business opportunity. At least that's what he
said. I knew it was probably just one more favor he was doling out but I
planned to work as hard as I could to make it worth his while. I still
mourned the fact that my friend wasn't here to help make this happen,
but the thought of working with Stone and Deck was something to get
excited about.
A weird surge of nerves overcame me when I pulled into the parking lot
of Creed's club. There was no reason to be nervous. This was just Creed
Gentry, just a man who'd always assumed he was my cousin. And he
might not have any solid reason to like me at this point, but he didn' t
have any reason to hate me either.
I remembered that he was driving a blue Ford pickup these days and
sure enough there was one sitting in the lot with a handful of other cars.
The back door of the club was open and no one was manning it so I just
walked right in. A few burly guys were moving furniture in the bar
area. When I stopped one of them to ask if he knew where Creed
Gentry was he squinted at me for a second, then called to the other side
of the room.
"Hey boss, looks like another interview is here."
Creed emerged from the shadows. "What interview? I don't have any
interviews lined up this morning. "
"Well, I don't know what the hell this guy wants then." The big man
turned to me with suspicion now. "Hey, what's your business here,
buddy?"
"It's okay, Jerry," Creed said quickly. He was looking at me now, with
an expression that managed to fall somewhere between curiosity and
shock. "I know him."
"Hey, Creed," I said, extending a hand.
He looked surprised but shook it. "What's up, Conway?"
It was always slightly intimidating to stand beside Creed Gentry. He
was huge and he was all muscle. Plus he carried himself in a way that
declared a low tolerance for bullshit.

"I was wondering if we could talk real quick," I said quietly.
I thought he'd be skeptical but he shrugged agreeably and jerked his
head, indicating I ought to follow him. He pointed to the man I' d talked
to a moment ago.
"Jerry, why don't you and the guys take ten?" he said.
Jerry nodded. "Kind of early, but sure." He whistled sharply and led
three other men out the back door.
"Have a seat," Creed said as he settled himself on a barstool. He
watched me as I climbed on the seat beside him.
"Sorry to drop in on you like this," I said. "How's club business?"
"It's good. On live talent nights we have to start turning away at the
door by nine o' clock."
"That's great. I'll have to bring my girlfriend here to check it out one of
these days."
"You do that. Just let me know when and I'll leave word to let you in.
Now how can I help you, Conway?"
He didn't ask the question to be rude. I couldn't really blame him for
being guarded. There'd been a time when I was something of a thorn in
the side of the Gentrys. Since Stone got out of prison I'd started to make
amends with Deck and the triplets but there was still a complication
that we never mentioned. At one point they'd all straddled the edge
between the shadows and the sun but every one of them had crossed
over to the good side.
I hadn' t, not yet, not until now.
"I don't know how to say this, Creed, so I'm just going to spit it out. I' m
your half brother."
Creed didn't respond right away so I kept talking to fill the silence.
"Hell, everyone probably knew my mother ran around on Elijah. He
raised Stone and me as his own but he always knew we weren't. My
mother got herself plastered and blurted out the whole truth one night
before she kicked me out. She'd had an affair with Chrome Gentry. I
guess she thought they were in love. She thought if she got pregnant
that it would be enough to keep him around. But after Stone was born
and Chrome wasn't real interested in being a daddy, she turned to his
brother, Benton, in revenge. So like you, and like Cord and

Chase, I'm Benton Gentry's son."
Creed stared straight ahead and nodded slowly. "There was always
talk," he said quietly. "We never knew if it was true though and you
never came to us."
"I know."
"So why didn't you come to us sooner?"
I swallowed, trying to figure out how to explain this properly. "You
guys have always been kind of like my idols. I'd made a habit of
fucking up my life for so long I guess I didn' t believe I had much to
offer you. Honestly, I didn' t think you' d want me as a brother."
Creed turned his head and gave me a piercing stare with eyes that were
exactly like the ones I saw in the mirror every day. "You thought
wrong," he said flatly.
Then he stood up and crossed his arms. "You hear that? You thought
wrong, Conway. I would have loved to call you my brother. I still
would. And I don't like to speak for Cord and Chase but I'm pretty sure
they would feel the same."
"I' m sorry," I said softly, wishing I' d done this much sooner. I should
have had more faith in them, more faith in myself. "I' m really sorry,
Creed. I should have been straight with you a long time ago."
Creed slapped a strong hand on my shoulder and kept it there.
"Don't be sorry," he said and it was the first time I had ever heard his
voice crack with emotion. "Don' t dwell on all the things you should
have done differently and let it drag you down. Christ almighty, if we
all did that we'd never get up in the morning. You're here now. And if
you're interested in being my brother I'm damn glad to have you."
Honest words from an honest man.
"Well, shit," I said, trying to choke out a laugh. "You're gonna make me
cry here. "
"Cry if you want to. Then stand up and suffer through a hug."
"Never assumed you were the hugging type."
"We're Gentry men," he said indignantly. "We're required to hug now
and then. Get used to it. Chase will probably tackle you to the floor
when he hears."

I stood up and accepted my brother's embrace. He patted the back of
my head in the way that Stone used to do when we were kids and were
suffering through some trauma. He would whisper 'Strength in
brothers," and wait for me to repeat it back. I was lucky, so lucky to
have these men in my life.
Creed really wanted me to hang around and get some lunch but I had an
appointment to look at rental houses with Deck' s agent friend. He
asked me when I planned on enlightening Cord and Chase and I
quickly stated I'd like to do that as soon as possible.
"How about dinner at my place Friday night?" he suggested. "Plenty of
room in the new house and I'll make sure the whole Gentry tribe is
there."
I grinned. "I' d really appreciate that. There' s a lot of news to share."
"More news than this? Don' t tell me there' s another goddamn Gentry
brother out there."
"Not another brother that I know of but there will be another
Gentry."
Creed scratched his head and looked confused. "Huh?" "I may as well
tell you this now. My girlfriend, Roslyn, is pregnant. I' m going to be
a father."
Creed paused and then raised an eyebrow. "This is a good thing,
right?"
"Yeah. This is a good thing," I said, smiling as I thought of Roslyn,
remembering the way I'd gently placed my hand over her belly last
night as she slept. The rush of love and fierce protectiveness was
almost too much to bear. I had kissed the place where my child was
safely growing, tucked the blankets around its mother and slept at her
side until morning.
Creed was practically beaming now. "Well, damn, little brother.
Congratulations. I really want to meet this girl of yours. She must be
pretty spectacular."
"Yes she is."
"Then she'll fit right in." He puffed his chest out proudly. "That's one
thing the lot of us excel at you know, finding outstanding women

who make every day worth waking up to."
"Amen to that," I agreed, thinking of the Gentry women.
Saylor. Truly. Stephanie. Jenny. Evie.
If I had my way Roslyn was going to join that club.
By the time I got back to my car I was running late. I'd have to hustle to
make it back downtown to meet the agent. Even so, I paused and tapped
out a text message. A response arrived only seconds later.
I love you too.
I smiled. Life was good.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
ROSLYN
Conway would not allow me to do a thing.
I couldn' t even pick up a shoebox without being actively thwarted and
banished to the couch to lie around uselessly like the Queen of
Sheba.
Finally I gave up trying and just sat down to watch while Stone and
Conway moved all the heavy boxes and furniture as Evie followed
them out, usually carrying something portable like a lamp or a vase.
For the last hour the three of them had been busily loading up the
moving van parked on the street downstairs while I was relegated to the
sofa with a towering glass of ice water and a book of baby names.
Today was moving day. In a quirk of fate, the house we'd rented was
right in Stone and Evie's neighborhood. Plus, thanks in no small part to
Deck, Conway was about to lease some garage space. From what I
could see it would take a lot of elbow grease to get it in shape but
Conway and Stone had big plans and were eager to get started.
Since we wouldn't be downtown anymore, getting to work would be a
bit of a commute for me. But then just last week Mary Agnes told me
Homestead would be branching out. An old motel close to the
university was being renovated into a new facility. It would be opening
in the spring if all went according to plan and Mary Agnes wanted me
to promise that I'd be back from maternity leave by then to help open
the doors. I'd be able to leave the baby in the resident daycare center
and visit throughout the day to nurse or cuddle. Frankly, I couldn't have
scripted this outcome more beautifully if I tried.
"So hot out there," Evie complained, fanning herself with a piece of
cardboard as she trudged back inside.
"Well, I did hear it's supposed to get up to one hundred and ten today.
Anyway, stop with the hard labor and come sit with me. I' m

lonely."
She happily scurried to the couch and sat down, immediately tucking
her legs under her and tightening her brown ponytail.
"Those boys," she said with a shake of her head, "they keep bickering
down there by the truck."
"Still?"
"Yup. Conway complained Stone was loading up far too slowly and
Stone barked back that he's been a professional mover so he knows
what he's doing and plus he's the oldest and big brothers always knows
best. I thought they were going to wrestle for blood right there on the
street but in the next second they shrugged it off and Conway handed
Stone a bottle of water." She giggled. "It was cute. Those two, they're
either bosom buddies or at each other's throats. But that's brothers for
you."
"Well now they'll be living in close proximity and working together so
I guess we can look forward to a lot of that."
"Oh honey, you have no idea." Evie reached over and fondly patted my
belly. "How's our baby?"
"Growing. Conway swore he felt an early kick this morning but I think
it was just a hunger spasm. "
Evie laughed.
We' d spent a lot of time together lately. So much that Evie insisted on
adding me to her wedding party. At first I'd scoffed and mentioned that
I'd be as big as Hotel San Gabriel by the time October rolled around but
Evie wouldn't let up until I agreed. More than anyone I' d every known,
Evie possessed an infectious charm that made you want to do anything
for her. In my totally unbiased opinion I thought that Evie ought to run
for president. She'd win in a landslide.
Conway and Stone were back to arguing by the time they marched back
upstairs to retrieve more furniture.
"Dammit, I told you to bring the covers down last time," Stone was
saying.
"Covers?" Conway grumbled. "What covers?" Stone picked up a pile
of fabric and shook it at his brother's face. "These, knucklehead."

"Those look like old horse blankets."
"They are not old horse blankets."
"They smell like old horse blankets."
"You can't smell them from all the way over there."
Conway raised his chin and sniffed. "Know what? I think it's actually
you that smells like old horse blankets."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. These are furniture covers.
You need to secure them properly on your larger pieces so that you
don't risk nicks or dents."
"Hey Stone, when did you turn into a fussy old woman?"
"Up yours, little man."
Evie cleared her throat quite loudly and the guys looked over at her.
She pointed. "Um, what happened? When I left you guys downstairs
you were both fully dressed."
Stone and Conway looked down at their extremely impressive bare
chests.
"We were hot," Conway shrugged.
"It's like Satan's mouth down there," Stone growled as he began
wrapping the legs of my coffee table in padding.
"Well, you might cause an accident or two from all the rubber necking
but I' m sure the neighborhood appreciates the show. "
Stone flexed his arms rather theatrically. "Do you appreciate it,
sweetheart?"
Evie rolled her eyes. "Stay on task, boys. Roslyn's tired and we don't
want to listen to you two carrying on all day."
Conway picked up three kitchen chairs at once.
"Evie's so bossy," he complained to his brother.
"Tell me about it," Stone muttered but then he grinned and winked at
his fiance.
Evie winked back.
When it came time to move the couch Evie grabbed my hand and
declared that we should go out to lunch and let the boys finish the
messy work of transporting everything over to the new place.
"We'll meet you guys at the house after lunch," Evie said. "You'll be
hungry by then. If we're in a generous mood we'll bring you some

hamburgers."
"No cheese!" shouted Stone. "I know."
"No onion! " bellowed Conway. "Of course."
Stone was right. It was hot as Satan's mouth outside. Evie had arrived
with Stone in the moving van so we took off in my car. She mentioned
a favorite restaurant close to where she lived. I said that sounded good
because I might as well get to know the neighborhood since as of today
it would also be where I lived.
We enjoyed a leisurely lunch in the air conditioning. When I asked
Evie if we ought to feel bad that we were hanging out in here while the
guys did all the heavy lifting in the awful heat she waved a hand and
said we'd just be in the way.
"Anyway, they'll have more fun without us."
"They didn't seem like they were having fun," I said doubtfully. "They
seemed like they were sweating and busting each other's balls."
"Haven't you figured it out yet? That's their idea of fun." She smiled
gently. "Stone is so happy you know. Ecstatic actually. I mean, it's true
Conway's been back in his life these past two years but now with you
guys living close by and them opening up a business together he really
feels like he has his brother again. Those two, they were so very close
growing up..." She blushed. "Of course, you know all this. You knew
them back then."
"Yeah," I said, "I knew them."
My fingers touched the necklace around my neck. I only wore it every
once in a while these days. Someday, many years from now, I expected
I would explain its meaning to my child. I would talk about life and loss
and love and hope, the lessons I had learned along the way and the
people who had taught them to me without even intending to.
We ordered a stack of food to go. Just as we were on our way out the
door Conway texted to let me know he was already waiting at home
and struggling with hunger equal to that of twelve famished bears.
I texted right back.

I'll be home soon.
Home.
My home was wherever he was now.
It seemed there was no limit to what the Gentry boys could do when
they made an effort because in the hour that had elapsed since we'd left
them they'd cleaned out the old apartment, reached the new house and
unloaded every single box, lamp and couch cushion.
Evie and I found the two of them lying on their backs in the middle of
the living room.
"Hey baby," Conway yawned from his position on the floor. "I'd carry
you over the threshold but I can't seem to move."
I dropped the bag of food beside his head. Nearby, Stone was
pretending to sleep with his hands folded over his chest. Evie sat right
down on top of him and started tickling him mercilessly until he
managed to pin her quick hands and retaliate.
"No fair," she gasped through laughter.
"Don't start a fight you can't win," Stone warned as he rolled on top of
her.
"I always win," she declared, still giggling.
Stone stared down at her for a moment and then kissed her. It was no
quick peck of affection. He kissed her long and deep, rolling to his back
and pulling her on top of him as he tangled one hand in her hair and
moved the other one up and down her body. Stone and Evie weren' t
exactly shy about showing affection.
Conway propped himself up on his elbows and glared at them in
disgust. "Knock it off, Stonewall. If anyone's going to christen this
floor today it's going to be me, not you."
Neither Stone nor Evie so much as paused in the midst of their heavy
duty make out session.
I knelt at Conway's side and took a Styrofoam container from the bag.
"Here, eat your hamburger. "
He stopped glowering at his brother and took an interest in the
food.
"Mushrooms and no onions?" "Naturally."

As soon as Conway dove into his food Stone sat up, apparently
deciding the needs of his stomach outweighed other needs for the time
being. Evie sat on the floor between the two brothers while I wandered
around the house. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a
respectable backyard. All the rooms were small but it was clean and it
was comfortable and even though I had yet to spend a single night here
it was already my very favorite among all the places I'd lived before.
The small desk that used to sit in the corner of my bedroom at the
apartment had been temporarily left in the middle of one of the
secondary bedrooms. Since there was another room closer to the master
bedroom than this one we would probably use it for the nursery and
turn this room into an office or something. I started pushing the desk
toward the far wall so it would overlook the backyard.
"Don't do that," said a voice at my back.
I turned around. Stone was there in the doorway. He walked over to the
desk, picked it up effortlessly and moved it over to the window. "Is this
where you want it?" he asked. "Yeah. Thanks."
Stone opened the blinds all the way and looked out the window. He
turned to me and smiled. "Look at that. You can just make out the roof
of our house from here."
I smiled back. "I suppose that means we'll run into each other now and
then."
He looked out the window again, drumming his fingers on the surface
of the desk. I was startled to realize that this was the first time we'd ever
been alone together. I wondered if I should tell him that I still had his
letter. I wondered if I should admit the gratitude I felt because Conway
had him for a brother. And I wondered if I should let him know that I
was sure he would be an excellent uncle. "Thank you, Roslyn," he said
quietly.
"I'm the one who should be thanking you. After all, you're spending
your day off helping us move."
Stone looked at me. His eyes were Conway's eyes. I wondered if my
child would have them too.
"Thank you for seeing my brother for who he really is, for

reminding him just how beautiful life can be, and for falling in love
with him."
Stone was legitimately choked up. I was touched. So I told him the
plain truth.
"Falling in love with Conway has given my heart a workout," I said and
then smiled. "It's also the best thing I've ever done."
He nodded. "I'm glad you think so. Because on Conway's planet, you're
the sun."
Stone and Evie left a little while later. I think they were eager to get
home and finish what they'd started on the floor of the living room.
Conway embraced his brother in a brief but strong hug before letting
him walk out the door. I couldn't remember ever seeing two grown
brothers hug before but as I watched them it seemed to me that hugging
was something brothers definitely ought to do more often. Stone
whispered something to Conway and Conway nodded.
When the door was shut and we were alone, Conway turned to me and
smiled broadly. I opened my arms and he rushed over and swept me up
as I hung on and laughed.
"So much unpacking to do," I groaned when he set me down again.
"It can wait," Conway said. "Stay right here for a minute." He
disappeared down the hall.
"Oh, by the way my dad plans on stopping by tomorrow," I called to
Conway.
"Great! " he called back.
My father had been a big surprise. I had dreaded telling him I was
pregnant, figuring he'd lecture and hang his head and ooze parental
disappointment. Instead he was thrilled. He took an instant liking to
Conway and had already started proudly referring to himself as
'Grandpa' in the third person. People were such funny, ever changing
creatures. You never knew what they were going to do until you gave
them a chance to do it.
There was a rustling sound and Conway appeared, dragging our king
sized mattress.
"What are you doing?"

He dropped it in the middle of the living room floor and flopped on top
of it. "Come here."
I knelt primly beside him. "I didn't realize you were serious about
christening the living room floor today. "
He stretched out and released a deep groan. "God, this feels
good."
"I haven't even touched you yet."
"You will," he said cheerfully and patted the space right next to him.
"Now lay down with me."
Whenever I got next to him everything in my body knew it. This time
was no different. I snuggled close to him expectantly but he just took
my hand.
"What does this remind you of?" he asked, staring at the ceiling.
I stared too. "It reminds me that popcorn ceilings went out of style for a
reason."
He nudged me. "Smartass. I meant the beach."
I smiled, closed my eyes and was transported to a place of salt spray
and cool breezes, to a nervously intoxicating feeling that I was in the
company of a man who might change everything.
"The beach," I sighed. I opened my eyes and stared at taupe walls.
"Although I will say that the view was considerably better that
day."
He sat up and studied me. "Actually, the view is incomparable from
where I sit."
I touched his face. "Conway Gentry, sometimes you are so charming
I'm afraid it ought to be illegal."
He played with the top button of my loose maternity shirt. "Only
sometimes?" he asked casually as he undid that button, and then
another.
"Most of the time," I amended, starting to fidget as my pulse rose while
Conway calmly continued opening my shirt.
"Like right now?" he whispered as he reached the last button and
opened the two halves of my shirt.
"Yes," I answered and began stroking his hair as he rested his head on
my chest. I kissed the top of his head and felt his exhale of contentment.
"But I can think of a place I love even more than the

beach."
He raised his head and looked at me quizzically. "Oh yeah? Tell me. I'll
take you there."
I touched his lips and stared into his eyes. "Don't you know? You
already have."

EPILOGUE
CONWAY
Stone and Evie were halfway to Vegas for their honeymoon before
Evie panicked, remembering she hadn't made arrangements for anyone
to take care of her pet guinea pig while they were gone.
"Don't worry," I told Stone over the phone, keeping my voice low so I
wouldn't wake up Roslyn. "We'll take care of it. And don't worry about
the garage either. We're still on schedule to open in three weeks. You
guys just go take Vegas by storm and we'll see you next Wednesday."
I' d been cleaning up the kitchen when the phone rang and I cursed
myself for failing to mute it. Roslyn was still tired from Evie and Stone'
s wedding yesterday so when I suggested that she go take a nap she' d
nodded and shuffled off to bed.
When I checked on her a little while ago she was sound asleep on her
back, propped up by every pillow in sight, her right arm draped across
the swollen belly that held our growing son. Maybe she felt my eyes on
her in her sleep because she stirred slightly. I backed up and closed the
bedroom door. As I stood there on the other side of the door I was hit by
a sharp, surreal sense. It left as quickly as it came and when I looked up
and down the hallway I found everything as it should be.
I never wanted to forget how lucky I was to wander into a party seven
months ago as a damaged and reckless soul and find someone who
would lead me right here. After all, things could have ended far
differently.
On the other hand, I guess you could say that about every story.
I remembered the tale about the doomed lovers, the tragic trip to the
underworld. I used to think it was just a sad story with some strange
details but now I understood. It was meant to be a cautionary tale, a
warning. Grief will consume you if you let it. Chasing death can ruin

you, turn you into a stricken nomad searching in vain for the edge of a
world you aren't meant to inhabit.
But if you stop chasing death, if you stop losing yourself in grief, then
maybe you can learn to live again. Maybe you can learn to love again.
Roslyn shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and then placing a hand on
her lower back for support. I held my arm out and she came right to me,
settling against my side like we were two puzzle pieces carved with the
sole intention of fitting together. The only secrets between us now were
the ones we kept together.
No one else knew that we'd gone down to the county courthouse last
week to be married. We hadn't wanted to steal any attention away from
Evie and Stone's big day plus Roslyn wasn't up to planning a wedding
celebration at the moment. I wasn't sure how she'd feel about a plain
courthouse ceremony but she was delighted. No fanfare, no stress, just
us. We stood there before the Justice of the Peace and two random
witnesses and said our vows.
Some other time we'd go through the big show with the cake and the
guests. For now all that mattered were the promises we'd made to each
other.
"You have a nice nap?" I asked and kissed her cheek. She nodded and
yawned again. "Were you talking to someone?" "Just Stone. We're on
guinea pig duty until he and Evie get back from their honeymoon."
"How does one take care of a guinea pig?" "I'm not sure." She giggled.
"Hey," I said, "I also told Cord and Saylor I'd stop by and pick up the
baby stuff they keep trying to give us." "Oh, nice. Can I come?"
"Thought you'd be all Gentry'd by now between the rehearsal, the
wedding, the reception."
"Nope." She shook her head. "I'll never be Gentry'd out."
We stopped at Evie and Stone's place first since it was just around the
block. Stone had neglected to give me a key but I still had some

useful talents born out of my years of criminal associations. Roslyn
watched in fascination as I picked the backdoor lock in ten seconds flat.
"I' m not sure what this says about me, but watching you commit
breaking and entering is a hell of a turn on."
I raised my head and leered at her. "I'll let you watch me break into our
house later if you want."
She seemed like that idea. "Can you arrange to be shirtless and sweaty
at the time?"
I shoved the door open and held it for her. "Anything to please
you."
Roslyn immediately started fussing over Teddy, the guinea pig.
"So cute," she purred, cuddling his furry body to her cheek and then
carrying him around like an infant.
Luckily I found a bag of pet food in the pantry. I filled up the food and
water bowls while Roslyn cooed and petted the stupid guinea pig.
"I want one of these," she said.
"It's a long-haired rat. Can't really say I understand the appeal."
She gently placed the thing back in its pen and dangled a squeak toy in
front of it. "Maybe I' m just experiencing some kind of nesting
instinct."
"Well, the good news is in two more months you'll have something
much bigger and louder to take care of."
She turned to me with her hands on her hips. "We still need to think of
a name you know. Every time I make a suggestion you veto it."
"Oh. Well how about Veto then?"
Roslyn grimaced. "Veto Gentry?"
"Sure. It sounds like he's already a man to be reckoned with."
She was disgusted. "Forget it. We are going through the name books
again when we get home."
When we pulled up to Cord and Saylor's place it sounded like recess at
an elementary school.
"Welcome to the madhouse," Cord greeted us as he flung open the
door.
He wore a crooked paper crown and about thirty beaded necklaces.
When I stepped inside I saw their house was teeming with

small people. Apparently we'd walked right into a Gentry cousin
sleepover. There were Cord's three girls, Chase's three boys, Deck's
little girl and Creed's son and daughter.
Saylor was trying to keep the youngest ones corralled in the kitchen
with some homemade play dough. She emerged with Chase's youngest
boy on her hip and flour all over her shirt. Meanwhile, Cord' s oldest
daughters were scolding their cousins for failing to play hide and seek
appropriately and Chase's middle son was running in and out of the
house with a dishtowels flapping in each arm as he shouted
"WOOWOOWOO!!"
"Madhouse is an apt description," I said to Cord as I eyed all the chaos.
"Yeah," he said wryly, "I might have bitten off more than I can chew."
When Roslyn sat on the couch she was immediately joined by Deck' s
daughter on one side and Creed' s daughter on the other. She opened a
storybook and began reading to them as they listened in fascination.
Cord poked me in the arm. "Let's go out back."
Despite the exuberant presence of Angus The Dog, who' d managed to
grow into quite a huge, slobbering beast these past months, the
backyard was quiet. That quiet lasted about eight whole seconds before
most of the kids decided to follow us out there.
The twins, Cami and Cassie, whispered to each other and retreated to a
shady corner of the yard to discuss whatever secret things ten year old
girls needed to discuss.
Chase's two oldest sons ran all over the place like blonde hellions,
swinging palm tree fronds and bellowing madly. When I looked at
them I saw Stone and me.
Cord's youngest daughter, Cadence, emerged quietly, followed by
Creed's son, Jacob. They brought Cord a book on paper airplanes and
asked for his help in assembling them.
"Hey you!" yelled one of Chase's boys as he pointed to me.
I looked around. "You mean me?"
"Yeah you! Wanna play catch with us?"

"Maybe."
The kid, Derek, scratched his head. "Is that a yes or a no?"
"Depends." "On what?"
"On whether you call me by name and stick the word 'please' in
there."
Derek grinned. "Okay, Uncle Conway. Please will you come play catch
with us?"
"Please, Uncle Conway?" the other boy, Kellan, begged as he hopped
up and down.
"Uncle Conway," I murmured, shaking my head. "Still getting used to
that."
Cord looked up from his paper airplane folding. "Has a nice ring
to it."
"Yeah it does."
"Almost as nice as 'Daddy'. You'll have to get used to that too." "I
know. Already can't wait."
I jogged over to where the boys waited. They'd found an old tennis ball
that looked like it had been tortured by Angus The Dog at some point.
"Heads up," warned Derek and fired it right at me.
My nephews didn't tire easily, that's for sure. We tossed the ball back
and forth for a solid half hour. When their little brother came running
out to play they groaned but then willingly included him in our game.
The boys didn't seem that put out when I backed away and told them to
keep going without me. Roslyn had come outside and I wondered how
long she'd been standing there, watching me with that gentle smile. I
went right to her side, slipped one arm around her shoulders and rested
my hand on her stomach. The occupant within responded with a hearty
kick.
"They're so wonderful," she said in a voice of awe as she observed all
the children.
"They sure are," I agreed, feeling pride that I had the privilege of being
included in their world.

Roslyn sighed and rested her head against my shoulder as I absently
began massaging her neck.
I kissed her and we watched the kids play. I wondered if she was
thinking what I was thinking, that we were seeing the future unfold
right before our very eyes.
THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTE
To every single one of you I owe an enormous debt of gratitude for
sticking with me and the Gentry Boys all this time. The journey has
been amazing.
And though sometimes even the most epic journeys need to end... This
is not one of those times.
For just as our own families grow, evolve and eventually pass the
proverbial torch to the next generation, so will theirs.
GENTRY GENERATIONS
The continuing story of the Gentry family. Coming in 2017

COMING SOON....
HICKEY (A Stand Alone Second Chance Romance) By Cora
Brent
A long time ago, in a small town I've tried to forget...
I married the charismatic all-American king of high school.
He was sexy and charming.
I was shy and lust-struck.
We were both eighteen.
Of course we did not live happily ever after.
We did the opposite.
You thought that was the end?
So did I.
Add to your Goodreads
TBR:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28175799-hickey7from

s earch=true

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
Gentry Boys Series
DRAW
RISK
GAME
FALL
HOLD
CROSS (A Novella) WALK
EDGE (August 2016)
Stand Alones Unruly
Reckless Point Hickey (Fall 2016)

Savage Series Born Savage Book #2 (Fall 2016) Book #3 (Fall 2016)
Defiant MC Series
Know Me Promise Me Remember Me

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