Page 45 of The Desperate Warrior

By mid-morning, Luke had already gone to Lowes and came back with a chainsaw, work gloves, and other necessities. At Nikki’s insistence, Jules hobbled out to the porch. The two of them watched as the men attacked the cleanup with efficiency. All the while, Nikki gawked at their muscles, pointing out how they rolled so smoothly beneath their olive-toned skin.

“I feel like I’m watching a live scene out ofMen’s FitnessMagazine.” Nikki sat back and pursed her lips. “I can’t decide which one is better looking. No doubt about it, Brock’s Mr. Tough through and through. Luke’s thinner and wirier, but you can tell that he’s tough too. Also, he exudes a nimble grace that’s almost elegant, don’t you think?”

“You’re smitten.” Jules threw her a coy grin. “Don’t try to deny it.” It was cute to watch her face turn red.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted and then quickly changed the subject. “What about you and Brock?”

“What about it?” she snapped, not liking that the tables were turned.

“He’s crazy about you.”

Rather than answering, she clamped her mouth shut.

“Maybe you should give him another chance.”

For a second, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard Nikki correctly. “What?” she grumbled.

“You heard me,” Nikki drawled.

Jules whipped around. Yeah, she’d heard … and it burned her ears. “How could you say that? He broke up with me to get back with his ex-wife,” she uttered hoarsely.

“That’s not what happened, and you know it. He made a mistake, but he’s here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now.”

“Fine,” Nikki snipped, “but for the record, I think you’re making a big mistake. I can see the way you look at him. You’re in love with him, cuz.” Her voice quivered with intensity. “Believe me when I say that feelings that strong only come along once in a lifetime … if you’re lucky.”

Jules knew that Nikki was talking about Soren, the Scandinavian Prince. She turned to Nikki. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she said glumly.

Nikki claimed to be the eternal optimist. She tended to gloss over all unpleasantness, hoping that if she refused to acknowledge it, the bad would somehow go away. Jules still had no idea what happened between Nikki and her prince, but she could tell that her cousin was trying to bury whatever it was. Nikki was a lot more complex than she let on. Her MO was to hide her pain underneath a flurry of activity. Jules got the impression that whatever happened with the prince was a doozy.

A sly smile stole over Nikki’s lips as her voice lifted. “I’d rather just sit here and watch the eye candy.” She cut her eyes at Jules. “Don’t pretend that you’re not enjoying it, too.” She held out her hands, suddenly interested in her fingernails. “We should go and get mani-pedis. I’m way overdue.”

Of course, Jules had noticed the fluid manner in which Brock wielded his athletic body. She might be infuriated at him, but she wasn’t blind. Watching him whooshed a heady attraction through her. She had to keep reminding herself that while she needed him to keep her safe, she couldn’t allow herself to fall back into old habits. She had to stay firmly behind the safety line she’d drawn—the one that stipulated things were over with Brock. Otherwise, she’d be in for even more heartache than she’dalready endured. It was easy for Nikki to sit there and say that Jules should give Brock another chance. Her heart wasn’t the one on the line.

“I can’t stand being sidelined any longer.” Nikki jumped up. “I’ve got to help. Could y’all use a hand?” she asked.

Luke raised his safety goggles up to rest on his curly hair and then swiped his arm over his brow. “Any help is much appreciated,” he said with a boyish grin. “Hopefully, you can work a little better than you can run, Combat Barbie.”

Mellow laughter flowed from Nikki’s throat. “Don’t you worry, Stalker Boy. I know how to work. I am from Alabama, after all.”

He quirked a frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m a Southern gal. My daddy had me out working from the time I could walk.”

“I guess we’ll see,” he teased as he lowered the safety goggles to rest over his eyes. With a dramatic flair, he held up the chainsaw and revved up the engine. Then, he sliced the blade through the fallen tree. The buzz was so loud that it made Jules want to plug her ears.

There was nothing she could do but watch as Luke worked the chainsaw, chopping the tree into manageable pieces while Brock hauled the heavier chunks to the curb and Nikki carried the lighter ones. They had the damage all cleaned up by noon and then went into the house, where they ate the rest of the cold pizza because there was still no power.

Finally, the power came back on at one p.m. The timing was fortuitous because they had a video call scheduled with Sutton Smith at three thirty p.m.

When the time came, Brock brought his laptop over from across the street. He, Jules, and Luke gathered on the couch while Nikki traipsed off to get a shower. Brock sat in the middlewith Jules and Luke flanking him. Brock was the one hosting the meeting. Dad was the first to join from the ranch, his image framed by the handsome bookshelves in his office.

A second later, Sutton Smith jumped on. The background of his office was equally impressive in a more high-tech way.

Jules’s first thought was that he looked like Daniel Craig in his James Bond days—handsome, debonair, and no-nonsense with a rugged edge. His British accent rolled crisply through the speakers.

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