Hold Me. Сьюзен Мэллери
It grew louder, then quieter.
“I can’t believe it,” she said with a grin. “What is it about your gender? Can’t you just walk into a room? Do you always have to make an entrance?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She pointed to the ceiling. “That noise you just heard? It’s Miles, buzzing the town on his way to the airport. Because he thinks it’s cool. My helicopter pilot is one of the best, but he has the emotional maturity of a toddler. Come on. You’ll want to meet him, and I have to warn him that he’s not to make trouble while he’s here.”
“Does he usually?”
She thought about the string of broken hearts and shattered dreams Miles left in his wake. Sort of the reverse of bread crumbs. Because once Miles walked away, he never came back.
“Always. He says it’s part of his charm.”
“What do you say?” Kipling asked.
“That he needs a good smack upside the head.”
* * *
THEY TOOK HIS JEEP out to the small airport. Sure enough, a helicopter sat on the tarmac. As Kipling came to a stop, a guy climbed out and waved. Destiny scrambled out of the Jeep and raced toward him.
Kipling saw the other man, Miles, was about his height with dark hair. He wore an LA Stallions baseball cap. Destiny launched herself at him, and the man caught her in a tight embrace.
For a second Kipling wondered if he was going to have some competition for his planned short-term affair with the sexy redhead. Or if he’d misread the fact that she was single. But as he watched, the hug, while friendly, never progressed past affectionate. There was no trace of sexual tension between them. No lingering chemistry.
Miles released her, and she stepped back. They were talking animatedly. The man shook his head stubbornly, and Destiny slugged him in the arm.
Okay then, Kipling thought with a grin. More like brother and sister, not lovers. Excellent news. He’d been looking forward to seducing Destiny but wouldn’t go there if she belonged to someone else.
They approached. Destiny rolled her eyes. “Kipling Gilmore, meet Miles Thomas. He’s a good pilot and a complete dog when it comes to women. Please tell him to go easy here in town.”
The two men shook hands.
“It’s a family place with a lot of women in power,” Kipling warned him. “Our police chief has sons in high school and college. She’s not one to be reasoned with.”
Miles winked at Destiny. “Then I won’t ask her out. Sweet Destiny, you’re going to make this nice man think I’m a total bastard.”
“Yes, I know. Like I said. Brilliant in the sky. A jerk in his love life. I can’t tell you how many sobbing phone calls I’ve had to deal with over the past couple of years.”
“I’ve never made a phone cry,” Miles told her.
“Very funny. Don’t make me hit you again.”
Miles rubbed his arm. “You do pack a punch. More of Grandma Nell’s work, I presume.”
“Yes, and had she met you, she would have castrated you, just like she did the hogs.”
Miles’s good humor faded as he took a big step back. “Thanks for sharing. She’d dead, right?”
“You’re talking about my favorite grandmother,” Destiny told him. “Show a little respect.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kipling leaned against the Jeep and took in the show. “How long are you in town?” he asked Miles.
“As long as the job lasts.” He looked up at the mountains. “Six weeks maybe, give or take.” He sighed heavily. “Not that her work fills my days. Know anyone who wants to hire a helicopter pilot for odd jobs?”
“No, but I’ll ask around. There’s a company in town that offers different wilderness tours. I’ll give you the owner’s number. Aidan might want to offer helicopter tours. There may be others. Let me think on it.”
“Sure. That would be great.” Miles fished a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it over. “I’d appreciate anything that would break up the boredom of going over terrain, inch by fricking inch.”
“We pay you very well for your time,” Destiny said.
“That you do, my love, but the money doesn’t make the work interesting.”
“He’s a diva,” she told Kipling. “You’re the one who should have attitude, and you don’t. Miles has no reason to think he’s all that, yet he acts like he is.”
“I can hear you,” Miles said.
She started for the Jeep. “We have to give him a ride back to town so he can rent a car. I hope that’s okay.”
Miles shook his head. “She’s always like this. Acting as if I’m her...”
“Annoying younger brother?” Kipling asked.
“Yeah. Why is that?”
“No idea.”
All he knew was Miles wasn’t going to get in his way. Which meant it was time to get on with his plan.
* * *
“I DON’T GET IT,” Starr admitted as they stepped off a curb on their walk to town and the festival in progress. “Who is Rosie the Riveter?”
“She worked in a factory during World War II,” Destiny said. “She symbolized women helping out during the war. Before that, not many women had been in factory work, but when the men went off to war, factory positions had to be filled.”
Starr’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“I read a brochure. Someone dropped off a whole folder filled with brochures on the various town festivals. Some of them look fun.” More important to her summer with Starr, there were a couple every month—giving them things to do on the weekend.
Today was the start of Rosie the Riveter Days, a festival that celebrated all of the women of Fool’s Gold who moved to San Francisco during World War II to work in the factories there.
While the schools in Fool’s Gold were still in session for a few more weeks, Starr’s boarding school had already ended for the summer. The teen was certainly old enough to be left alone, but Destiny didn’t think day after day by herself was good for her half sister.
“Maybe we could get a book about Rosie the Riveter from the library,” she offered.
Starr rolled her eyes. “No, thanks. If I want to read about her, I’ll go online.”
“Sure.”
They crossed the street and headed for the park. The day was sunny and warm, the sidewalks filled with people. There were booths set up, selling everything from olive oil to jewelry, and posters promised live music all afternoon and evening.
Destiny paused in front of one of the posters. At least here was something she and Starr had in common. Something they could talk about.
“We can stay and listen to the bands,” she said. “Which ones look interesting to you?”
“Hello, girls.”
Destiny turned and saw a gray-haired lady in a track suit walking toward them.
“Don’t tell me,” the older woman said. “Let me guess.” She paused, then pointed. “Destiny and Starr. Do I have that right?”
Destiny nodded. “Yes. Hello.”
“I’m Eddie Carberry. You two are new in town. Welcome. We like new people, as long as you don’t make trouble.” Her expression