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to Angel. “I’ll touch base with the companies to find out the details of what they’re looking for. Then you can start designing the programs.”
    Angel looked disgusted. “How are you doing that? You have new clients nearly every week and we’ve only been open a month.”
    “Jealous? I’m good at what I do.”
    “Don’t make me separate you two,” Consuelo said.
    “I’ve got style, bro,” Ford said, ignoring her. “Real style.”
    There were three parts to the CDS business plan. The first types of client were ones already in the security business. CDS provided advanced training for senior operatives and basic training for new hires. Most companies found it cheaper to outsource instruction.
    The second source of income came from corporate clients looking for a unique team-building experience. Using the town as a selling point, Ford presented the idea of a simple series of survival exercises to grow trust in a group. Most of the corporate clients picked weeks of festivals for their dates, bringing in the employees on Monday and flying in family members to join them on Thursday. At the end, there would be a group hug and a round of “Kumbaya.” Or some crap like that.
    The final source of income was from classes held for locals. Self-defense and basic exercise. It was good for the town, good for CDS, and that was all he cared about.
    “You don’t have style,” Angel grumbled. “Look at that thing you drive.”
    “It’s a classic.”
    “It’s an embarrassment to Jeeps everywhere. The company should come take it away from you.”
    His friend’s comment made him think about what Isabel had said. Which made him think about last night and the feel of his mouth on hers.
    Nice. More than nice. He’d been aware of wanting to pull her close and do a lot more than kiss. Sometime while he’d been gone, his ex-girlfriend’s little sister had grown up. Now she was funny, sexy and completely off-limits. Isabel was troubled and he didn’t do troubled. She was also the commitment type, which, again, was not him. But a guy could sure dream.
    “If we could get back to business,” Justice said. He went through the rest of the schedule. “Angel’s getting more work than he can handle.”
    “Thanks to me.” Ford grinned. “Damn, I’m good.”
    Consuelo rolled her eyes.
    “Don’t ask him to help me,” Angel demanded. “Don’t even think about it.”
    “You can’t design all the curriculum yourself,” Justice reminded him. “Not at the beginning when it’s all new. We’ll all help.”
    “But I’ll be the most help,” Ford said.
    Angel lunged for him. They tumbled to the floor, wrestling and punching each other.
    Neither of them was trying very hard. If either of them put in any effort, there would be a fairly serious injury...or seven. Justice had already lectured them on not doing anything to increase their health insurance premiums.
    “Are we done?” Consuelo asked.
    “Apparently,” Justice said and turned back to his computer.
    Angel rolled Ford a couple of times and tried to get an arm around his neck. Ford twisted and got away, only to have his friend pull him back to the mat. Consuelo grabbed her coffee and stepped over them.
    At the door, she paused and looked back. “The Maá-zib Festival is coming up. The highlight is a man getting his heart cut out. I’m volunteering both of you for the sacrifice. Don’t worry about thanking me.”

CHAPTER THREE
     
    F ORD WALKED DOWN the stairs by the garage and headed to his Jeep. He glanced toward the kitchen and wondered if Isabel was up yet. It was early by civilian standards and he knew the store didn’t open until ten or eleven, so she had no reason to be. Oddly, he found himself wanting to go inside anyway, to make coffee and wait for her. An urge he couldn’t explain or justify. He guessed she would be as freaked by his unexpected arrival as he’d been by his mother’s.
    There were elements about coming home that were more difficult