The insurance money had just barely paid off their debts.
Her husband had left behind an overextended double mortgage on their home in North Carolina. Doctor and therapist bills for her special-needs son were costly, but necessary. Working and paying for childcare had stretched her budget to the limit. She’d feared she would have to cave and move in with her parents for her children’s sake, and then her late husband’s military friend Tom Knox had insisted she move close to his place in Texas so he could help and keep an eye on her.
She hated exploiting his kindness, but truth be told, she wasn’t close with her family in her hometown of Phoenix. So she’d taken Tom up on his offer. Her family had never been supportive of her decision to travel the world with her military husband, and they definitely weren’t supportive of his back-to-back deployments that left her essentially a single parent for years.
The bed-and-breakfast had been a godsend that just sort of fell into her lap—the former proprietor was an older woman who decided to move to California to be with her daughter and had sold it for the right price. Exactly the amount she received on the North Carolina house.
Since four-year-old Colby had recently been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, running the B and B was a perfect fit for being more flexible to meet his needs as well as keeping up with her two-year-old daughter. It allowed Natalie to stay home with the kids and pursue her dreams of designing wedding gowns, and gave her the one-on-one time to work with a trainer for their young golden retriever to become her son’s service dog. Miss Molly had the smarts and the aptitude, and heaven knew, Natalie needed all the help she could get.
All of which left little time for fizzy flutters in her stomach for tall, dark and dangerous.
Natalie gripped the arms of the leather chair in the Cattleman’s Club lounge. “While I want to help, I’m beginning to lose the thread here on your questions. I feel as if we’re covering ground you must already know from your research.”
“I’m digging for nuances.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re a computer techie. Not a detective.” Okay, so she’d actually been a little rude, but only to give herself distance from Max and his striking aqua eyes with dark lashes, his dark brown, rumpled hair that her fingers itched to comb through. He was quite simply imperfectly gorgeous. This ex-hacker-turned-billionaire tech genius. Bad-boy brilliant. A potent mix.
“I’m experienced with cyberprotection, so it is a combination of both. Quit worrying about what I need to know. Leave that up to me.”
“I just expected this interview to go faster.”
“Your bread and pastry dough. Can’t it be punched down and rise again?”
Now, that surprised her. Because he was right. “A few more minutes, perhaps. But I need to pick up my children from preschool soon.”
He nodded, his booted foot resting on his knee and twitching as he took notes on his tablet. Hiking boots. Expensive, clearly, but worn in. Not worn just for show. “Of course. I’ll move this along, then.”
The image of those well-worn boots and faded jeans contrasted with the button-down shirt and pocket protector. God, why couldn’t life be simple for once? “At least Cecilia, Simone and Naomi—they’ve gone from suspects to victims. Nothing seems off-limits to this creep in what secrets are revealed. Exposing Cecilia’s birth certificate in spite of her closed adoption. Sharing private medical details about Simone’s in vitro pregnancy. Then announcing Naomi’s pregnancy and stealing her chance to share that special news? It’s crazy around here. All of us feel vulnerable.?
??
She crossed her arms against her chest, a poor attempt at a shield from all this mess. Still, it made her feel better, if only temporarily.
“You have nothing to hide.”
“Everyone has secrets.” And she had so many parts of her past that she wanted, more than anything, to wish away.
“You look pretty squeaky clean on the internet.”
Her secrets weren’t internet worthy. They just made for grief and nightmares and a difficulty in trusting in picket fences anymore. “Well, having our friends hurt is wounding, too.”
“I’m not giving up until this bastard is found and stopped.” His large hands clenched into strong fists along the arms of his chair.
Very large hands.
Lord, she didn’t want to think about clichés about the size of hands and feet right now. She kept her eyes firmly off his boots, damn it.
But the way those hands then unfurled and carefully handled the thin tablet had her envisioning nimble touches and more...so much more.
There was no denying the conviction in his voice, and she couldn’t help admiring that. He truly was here to help, and her adopted town needed that help. The people here deserved the best. They’d done so much for her, welcoming her and her children with open arms. She should be helping rather than being so caught up in her own concerns.
This town had welcomed her wholeheartedly and she wanted to feel a part of things, to make a contribution however she could. And she really only had one thing to offer.
She tipped her chin and, before she could change her mind, blurted, “Mr. St. Cloud—um, Max—you can stay at my B and B free of charge, as my thanks for helping out the town.”
She might not have as much as some residents of this wealthy town, but she had her pride and she could offer something to help out Royal in its time of need. She was not going to fall victim to some smooth-talking player. For the next few days—or even weeks—she could hold strong.
Besides, it wasn’t like she was his type of female.