Along Came a Husband by Helen Brenna

the side?
    “Jonas. This is Sarah, Hannah, Sean and Garrett,” Missy said, making introductions. “Everyone, this is my brother, Jonas.”
    He nodded at each person in turn, but the doctor only glared at him. When the Setterbergs joined the group, Jonas straightened his shoulders and prepared himself for a few more dirty looks. There was no point in trying to butter them up with a smile. They already hated him.
    “Erica, bring this man a beer,” Ron said, patting Jonas on the back. “He just saved a little boy out front from getting run over by a horse.”
    As Ron went on explaining what happened, Jonas ducked his head. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to himself.
    Jan raised her eyebrows at him and whispered, “Guess sometimes there’s more to a man than meets the eye.”
    “I wouldn’t count on it,” Jonas muttered.
    “That’s some fast action,” Sarah said. “You must be feeling better.”
    Jonas glanced at the woman, wondering what exactly that comment meant. Missy wouldn’t have told anyone about his gunshot wound. “Yeah, thanks, I do feel better,” he hedged. “Except I’m starving.”
    “You can order something from Erica,” Garrett said, studying him, taking him apart piece by piece. “My wife.”
    If that man wasn’t a cop, Jonas wasn’t Bureau. “Thanks.” Jonas turned as the bartender set a frosty mug of beer in front of him and ordered a basket of chicken fingers as an appetizer, as well as a tenderloin steak, complete with a baked potato, green beans and a salad.
    From there the group peppered him with questions to which he responded with what he hoped were innocuous half truths. He’d spent most of the past four years lying to infiltrate and then operate amidst a drug cartel. What was one more night?
    As soon as the group let up on their interrogation, Missy pulled him slightly aside. “Thank you for saving that little boy.”
    “Whatever.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “Maybe if you kept real food in your house, your guests wouldn’t need to head into town for a decent meal.”
    She glanced away.
    Jonas felt the stirrings of a long-dormant conscience chew at his stomach. “I’ll go someplace else. Sound like a better plan?”
    “You can’t. Everyone here will think it’s odd. Funny, but my girlfriends want to get to know my brother .”
    “Tell them the truth, Miss.”
    “Why should I? You’ll be gone in no time. I still want to live here. In anonymity. In peace.”



CHAPTER NINE
    O THER THAN ANSWERING the questions posed to him, Jonas barely said a word the entire night. After finishing eating, leaving not a morsel on his plate, Sarah tried for a while to carry on a conversation with him, but gave up after receiving a series of one word answers.
    Missy could practically see Jonas’s brain working overtime analyzing her friends and the rest of the crowd, assessing, deciphering and judging with those dark all-seeing eyes. Working. Always working. It didn’t surprise Missy for a moment that Jonas had saved a little boy’s life. All in a day’s work for him. Strung rope-tight, he looked as though he might snap at any moment.
    Once upon a time, there used to be a decent, loving man under that cold, hard shell. To bring him out she would’ve run her hands along his shoulders, or dragged her fingers across his scalp to ease his tension. Plant a gentle, quiet kiss on his cheek. He would’ve glanced at her and all his worries would’ve whooshed out of him like a balloon losing air. Then he would’ve focused all that attention on her. There was no better feeling in the world than being the focus of Jonas’s attention.
    But that was a long time ago, Missy mused. Another life.
    Jonas turned from the bar with his second beer and inadvertently brushed his arm along hers. For a moment, his gaze latched on to hers and it was as if they were alone together in the room, remembering, reliving.
    She inched away from him, but the crowd seemed to only push