Page 94 of Lone Star

But he grew serious a moment later. “I swear I thought you were happy.”

“Iamhappy.” It was what she’d told Eden, and it hadn’t been a lie. She loved Candy, and TJ; already loved the new baby, growing every day, even if it made her queasy.

But Eden had helped her own a truth she’d been skirting around for a while, now. “I’m happy,” she repeated, “and God knows I’m tired, and I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. But I think I miss being useful.”

He frowned. “Baby–”

“No, not useful. I miss beingrelevant. I miss the thrill of it,” she said, and that’s what it had always been, when her heart was pounding, and they were seconds from being found out, and danger lurked around every corner. “I didn’t think, until recently, until I was out of the game, that I was somebody who enjoys that – the club work. Following leads, and sneaking into places, andservinglike that.”

As she’d spoken, his brows had drawn lower and lower; he looked baffled.

“I was one of my father’s soldiers,” she continued. “Working wasn’t just a way to pay the bills. It felt like I was helping. Like what I didmatteredto my family.”

That landed; his brows flew up, suddenly.

“I know I was never one of the boys, but I didn’t feel like somebody’s old lady, either.”

He studied her a long moment. “Old ladies matter.”

“I know that.”

“And I know plenty who’ve been damn important to the fate of the club.”

“I know that, too.”

“Ava Lécuyer shot a man’s face clean off in Louisiana.”

“To the admiration of us all. But Ava and I were brought up differently. I can’t be her, or her mother – no one bloody could, the woman’s a legend. But I can be me. I can be like Devin Green’s children – because his blood is mine, too. We’re spies, Candy. All of us. And even if I love my life, and you, and TJ, and this club, and our home, and our bar…I miss being a spy sometimes.”

He nodded. Turned his head, and stared out into the middle distance. “I don’t guess I ever thought of it like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to make things complicated.”

He reached up and took her hand into his, his large fingers enfolding hers completely. “No, don’t apologize. We’ll figure something out.” After a beat, he turned a wry smile toward her and said, “I’m just glad you didn’t say I was disappointing you in the bedroom or something.”

She snorted. “Fat chance of that, love.”

~*~

“So,” Fox said, dropping down into the chair beside Eden’s. “Name me a reason why someone would be producing a new kind of paralytic drug.”

Eden closed the magazine she’d been pretending to read and turned to regard him. He was slumped down in the chair, hands linked over his flat stomach, pads of his thumbs pressed together. His tone had been casual, bored even, but she saw the professional sparkle in his eyes. He was chewing through a puzzle, and that was his favorite thing.

“Well,” she said, “no one takes those recreationally.”

“No,” he agreed.

“Depends on whether you’re trying to paralyze someone permanently, or for a limited period. It could prevent someone from ever testifying or confessing, without killing them.”

“Let’s say, in this case.” He tapped his thumbs together. It wasn’t quite visible, but there was a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “It’s a temporary paralysis.”

“Alright, well, it would be a good way to transport someone safely if you were afraid they’d resist…What do you know?” she asked.

The grin finally peeked out, a little baby one. Very Fox-like. “I just went down to check on Jinx. Candy and Michelle were in the waiting room – looking very cozy, no thanks to your meddling–”

“If you think I meddled, Charlie Fox–”

“–and apparently, Cantrell – that’s our FBI bloke – says all the victims had been dosed with a paralytic. If I were a betting man–”

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