After a moment, Worthington and Leander took their seats at the podium, and Nate introduced them. He gave the town a brief rundown of what was happening and what to look for. The special agents interjected here and there, giving advice as though they were talking to two-year-olds rather than an entire town of people whose percentage of gun owners dwarfed the national average. They were patronizing. They were obnoxious. They were probably what Nate himself had sounded like just a few days ago. As Worthington went on and on, Nate sat, really thinking about his predicament.
What did he want? It was a question he thought he’d answered a long time ago. He wanted everything. He wanted to be a success. Success in his world was measured in money and power. So why hadn’t he taken up his father on his offer when he finished college? His father had offered him a vice presidency in the family company. It was a straight shot to CEO. Why had he joined the DEA? Because deep down he wanted to protect people. Because deep in his heart, he wanted to matter.
His ambition had burned, certainly. He’d seen himself running a Bureau office in record time. He’d marry the right woman and be on a fast track. He would show his father that he could make his own way to the top.
Oh, god, Zane was right. He was thirty-one years old and still trying to prove to his father that he was worthy of his respect. And why? It wasn’t like he respected his father. His father had gutted his trust fund in a vain attempt to keep up appearances as the ground was burning around him. Nate had trusted him to watch out for his interests while he was in deep cover, and his father’s only explanation for why he’d burned through ten million dollars was that he’d needed it. Nate would be okay, he’d explained, but they couldn’t be poor.
His whole world had been destroyed in one single afternoon. Zane had been close to death, and Nate had sat alone in a hospital room when he learned his future was gone. He’d spent every second trying to get back to that place where he had everything to look forward to.
Nate was well aware that he was zoning out at the worst possible time. He tried not to stare at Zane and Callie sitting next to the Harpers and Stefan. No one gave Zane’s scarred face a second glance as people leaned in to ask him questions. Zane looked cool and comfortable as he quietly replied to a woman leaning forward from the row behind him.
“Perhaps it would be better if you directed your questions to the agents in charge, ma’am,” Leander stated in that gratingly pretentious tone of his.
The blonde stood up, and Nate noted Leander’s interests rise. Laura Niles ran the convenience store. She was also stacked and lovely. She had a small-town charm that belied what Nate knew were years of big city living. She marched herself up to the microphone set up at the front of the audience. She was wearing jeans and an incongruous pair of red stilettos. Nate smiled a little. Laura would wear four-inch heels to shovel her driveway.
Leander placed a hand over his microphone and leaned toward his partner. “There’s my date for the night. What do you bet I can get that naïve piece of ass in bed after this meeting is over?”
Nate felt his blood pressure rise. Laura was a nice lady, not some piece of ass. She stood in front of the microphone, and Nate was aware of a certain protective feeling for her. Not because she was a lovely woman. She had nothing on his Callie. He felt protective because she belonged to Bliss.
“Please feel free to share your thoughts with the rest of us, sweetheart.” There was an unmistakable leer on Leander’s face. Worthington leaned forward, obviously sizing her up.
“Of course,” Laura started with a deep breath. “My name is Laura Niles. I left the FBI five years ago when a serial killer nearly tortured me to death after my profile of him led me right to his doorstep. I’m not in Bliss because I’m some fruitcake, as you said to your partner. I’m in Bliss because I like it here. As for sharing my thoughts with the room, well, I was just telling Zane there that the two of you are assholes who probably don’t know a Sig from a Ruger because you’re too busy fixing your hair. I totally remember your type from the Bureau. You made us all look bad.” She grinned brightly. “Thanks. I do feel better having shared that with the room.”
She sauntered off, leaving two frowning special agents in her wake. Before Worthington could speak, Marie had taken her place at the microphone. “My name is Marie Warner. I run the Trading Post with my wife, Teeny, who I rescued from her abusive ex-husband. I shot his balls off when he tried to kidnap our son and kill my woman.”
Nate hid a smile behind his hand. Apparently word had gotten out that Leander and Worthington thought they were lightweights who had never faced danger in their pitiful, small-town lives. He frowned as he realized he’d said something close to that.
Marie pointed a finger at the stage. “My boy is a deputy. I’ll shoot your balls off if you get him killed.”
“Damn it, Momma! You have got to stop that.” Logan stood up at the back of the room where he’d been making out with some brunette he’d been seeing.
“Why don’t we keep it to the topic at hand, which is how we’re going to protect you until we can resolve these very important issues.” Nate had to hand it to Worthington. He sounded professional.
Rachel Harper stepped up to the microphone. She introduced herself and quickly got to the point. “I shot and killed my crazy stalker a couple of months back. I think you need to post some pictures of the men we need to take care of. As Marie and I are the only ones here who’ve recently killed a son of a bitch, I think we should lead the hunt.”
“And where the hell are you going to stash your gun, Rach?” Max Harper didn’t need a microphone. Rye was on his feet next to his brother, looking every bit as outraged. “Do your maternity pants even have pockets?”
“I would like to interject something,” a light, frothy voice broke through the discussions that were breaking out. Nate looked up and saw that Nell had brought her own microphone. “I’m Nell Flanders, and while I am a pacifist, I am also a feminist. I believe that if Rachel wants to ‘kill a son of a bitch,’ she should be allowed to. Her state of gestation shouldn’t come into it.”
Her husband, Henry, leaned in. “Have we put any thought into passive resistance? It worked for Gandhi.”
And then they were off. A delightful chaos reigned as Max and Rye argued with Rachel over whether or not she would lead an armed posse. Henry got into a heated argument with Stella over whether protests would, perhaps, change the hearts and minds of an outlaw biker club. Logan tried to explain to his moms that he was an adult and a man and shouldn’t hide behind his momma.
“What the hell kind of town is this?” Leander asked, obviously disgusted with the whole event.
What kind of town was Bliss?
Nate looked at Zane and Callie. Callie was animatedly discussing something with Mel. Zane sat in the middle of it all with a huge grin on his face. His eyes lit up as he watched the clamor around him.
What kind of town was Bliss?
It was the kind of town where a person got a second chance. These people weren’t naïve. They had all known pain. They knew what the real world was like and chose a different path. Nate was shocked at the way his eyes watered. What had these people done when their personal worlds had fallen apart? Had they spent their lives trying to get back something that was gone forever? Hell, no. When the world threw them out, they built a new one, a better one.
A new ambition started to burn through Nathan Wright. Why should he hold onto dreams that no longer meant anything? Callie mattered. Zane mattered. Bliss mattered.
What kind of town was Bliss? It was his town.
Nate pulled his mike from its little stand and got to his feet. His heart pounded with the weight of what he was about to do. “My name is Nathan Wright.”
The crowd got quiet and turned to him. He noted vaguely that Leander and Worthington looked relieved that he was taking control. He figured they wouldn’t be so relieved in a moment or two.
“I used to work for the Drug Enforcement Agency, but now I’m the sheriff of Bliss, and, damn it, I don’t want to wear a condom, either.”
There were a whole bunch of wide eyes looking up at him. Nell Flanders brought her microphone up. Nate cut her off. “Don’t you talk to me about population control right now, Nell. Zane doesn’t have to wear a condom, and I don’t think it’s fair that I have to.”
Callie stood, her hands on her hips. “Zane doesn’t have to wear a condom because he’s willing to stay in Bliss and raise babies with me.”
Zane had the widest grin on his face. It was a look of complete approval, and Nate felt it in his bones. His partner knew exactly what he was about to do. “Well, as to that, I’m staying, too. I’m staying in Bliss, and if this town decides to run a rubber duck against me in the next election, then you tell that damn duck to be prepared because I’m going to win. I am the sheriff of this town, and no damn inanimate object is going to do a better job than me. I promise to protect this town and all of her people. I promise to ruthlessly beat back the real world every time it encroaches. I promise to find the best alien-detecting technology that money can buy. I swear on my life that I’ll do everything I can to keep my deputy alive and whole so his momma doesn’t shoot my balls off.” There was loud applause, hoots, and hollers as Nate made his first campaign speech. But there was more he had to promise than just to do his job. He moved to the center of the stage and jumped off. He looked at Callie. “I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I’ll be the best friend and partner to you, Zane. And we’ll be the best freaky threesome this town has ever seen.”
“Hey,” Max interrupted, only to have his wife’s hand clasped over his mouth.
“I love you, Callie Sheppard. You agreed to marry Zane. Will you marry me, too?”
A little smile curled her mouth up. “I never agreed to marry Zane. The truth is I don’t necessarily believe in marriage as an institution.”
“You do now!” Zane’s outraged shout exactly matched Nate’s own.
Callie looked between them. “Wow, way to double-team a girl.”
“Have no doubt, you will marry us,” Nate said with a light feeling invading his very cells. This was his future. These crazy, amazing people were his family.
“Hell, yes, she’ll marry you,” Stefan said with lazy menace. “I never thought I’d have to have a shotgun wedding in Bliss, but I will if you’re stubborn, little sister.”
“Fine, I guess I can compromise, but just this once.” Then she was running toward him, her face open and filled with love. For him. Nate dropped the microphone and braced himself for impact. When his arms were filled with soft, sweet woman, he sighed and clutched her close, not giving a damn that the entire town had watched him proclaim his love. Zane was suddenly at Callie’s back, the two of them crowding her the way they would for the next forty or fifty years.
“All of this is so touching.” Leander’s sarcastic voice cut through Nate’s joy, reminding him he had one thing left to do. “But none of it solves the problem that this town is woefully unprepared to handle the threat.”
Nate turned and faced his former co-workers. “Don’t worry about us. We can take care of ourselves. So you two should feel free to hightail it back to El Paso.”
Worthington leaned forward. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Nate didn’t want to hear it. “I said get the hell out of my town!”
The cheers erupted again, and Nate got lost in the crowd of people wishing him well.
Callie felt like the whole world had a warm glow around it. All through the reception hall people she knew and had grown up with were talking about her, Nate, and Zane. She’d lost count of the people who had hugged her in congratulations.
Stella winked at her as she walked into the small kitchen. “You’re the talk of the town, hon.”
She felt her face flush. “I don’t know about that. I think Nate and Zane are the ones people are talking about.”
Stella shook her head. “We might be talking about them, but we love you, Callie. We’re all happy that our favorite girl is going to be well taken care of. And don’t you doubt that. Max, Rye, and Stef already had serious talks with both of those boys about how poorly things could go for them if they step out of line. I heard Hiram mention that he still knew how to use a shotgun to the sheriff. And me and Hal certainly can take care of business if either one of them hurts you.”
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