Page 30 of Mountain Security

“I’ll tell my mom you liked it. She’s always been very proud of her tuna salad recipe.”

“We should split it,” she offered.

“No,” he said quickly. “Finish it. I’ll take the ham and cheese.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for this. I don’t think anyone has ever made me sandwiches before.”

The cuckoo clock struck one. “I don’t know how you put up with that thing,” Alex grumbled.

Yvette laughed. “Pierre loves it. But then, he spends more time at functions and less time in the office than the rest of us.” She quickly finished the sandwich and wiped her hands on a paper napkin. “Give me half an hour to finish writing a speech, then we’ll leave, okay?”

“What’s the speech for?”

“It’s for Pierre. For the hundredth anniversary of one of the local breweries.”

Alex nodded. “I assume you’re not going to tell me where we’re going afterwards, on our date?”

She shook her head, looking him up and down. His body heated under her stare.

“What are you wearing under that sweater?”

He raised the sweater, exposing the white T-shirt underneath. Her eyes widened, and he grinned—she wasn’t totally unaffected.

Good.

She cleared her throat. “That’s fine. You’ll just have to take off those boots.”

“My boots? I’m starting to get worried,” he said.

11

* * *

Alex

Cold seeped into the soles of his bare feet.

His were one of twenty pairs of feet lining up at the edge of the mat. His feet were by far the biggest, but then, he was the only man in the group, and most of the feet belonged to teenage girls.

Yvette stood to his left. Her feet were small and strong. Her second toe pulled out slightly beyond her big toe, as if it were a race and it were winning.

Alex grinned. He liked knowing that about her.

Her toe nails were painted in a dark ruby color.

He liked that, too.

Maybe too much. He forced himself to think of something else. He didn’t want to start tonight’s activities with a hard-on.

The self-defense instructor stood in the middle of the mat, looking over her students. She was an older woman, in her mid-fifties, perhaps, almost a head shorter than him, but Alex knew better than to underestimate her.

If she seemed surprised to see him, she didn’t say anything. She had a lot more self-control than the teenage girls, who’d been giggling and pointing in his direction ever since he stepped into the room.

“As usual, we will begin by introducing ourselves,” the instructor said, then pointed to her own chest. “I’m Marie, and I’ll be your instructor today.”

As they went round the square, speaking their names, Alex looked at all the participants. There were five women, counting Yvette, who were probably mentors, and fourteen younger girls, aged thirteen to eighteen, if he had to guess.

The girl beside Yvette, one of the youngest ones there, had dark hair and a round face. Though pint-sized, she looked at him with an expression of mistrust.

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