In Harm's Way

By Shaunna Gonzales

If having his company sold out from under him isn’t enough for Trevor Palmer, maybe finding a mine will be.If only he can tame the woman he finds at the same time.
One life...
Porsche has sworn off all men but meeting Trevor has changed her best laid plans, throwing her resolve to find the perfect man for her sister against her stumbling head on into the ideal man for herself. Can she release her resolve to find true love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shaunna Gonzales
• Release date: Sep 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370101047

Shaunna Gonzales

As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"Shaunna currently resides in a satellite city of Seattle, Washington. JOIN HER NEWSLETTER AT http://mailchi.mp/881a112aa307/shago

Book preview

Trevor adjusted his goggles and jumped. He might as well have dived into liquid ice. The bone chilling water enveloped him, slicing through his flesh with numbing clarity. The painful cold caused every hair on his body to stand on end and set his teeth to chattering. His breath effectively stolen by the freezing water, he managed to fight to the surface of the pool.

He stared at his work crew in shock, unable to think of a single cuss word.

Cold, ain't it hombre? Rufus, the only Mexican on the crew asked. Rufus stood a mere five feet four inches tall, with jet black hair in careless disarray, his typical work uniform of jeans and baggy tee shirt threadbare, but clean. He held Trevor's towel in a crumpled wad of disheveled terry cloth. Trevor eyed the towel, anxious to wrap himself in its warmth.

He tried to glare at each of his three employees in turn. Was his face frozen solid? His eyes seemed the only organs still responding to brain impulses. No wonder the guys refused to inspect the pools. What had he been thinking? He'd been thinking of how to get a jump on the competition and save his floundering company at the same time. The company, his legacy and inheritance upon his father's passing, or rather forty-nine percent of it. His mother, in conjunction with the stockholders, owned the other fifty-one percent.

Trevor had shown a propensity for designing pools early in his life and over the years his father had made Trevor's drawings a reality with several of the pools installed in the greater Las Vegas area. Trevor much preferred designing to installing or maintaining. Conceiving, planning and drawing were the part of the business Trevor did best. Running a crew proved his downfall last summer. If he couldn't manage these guys they might all end-up unemployed. He had to find a way to prove to himself, his mother, and the stockholders his value as more than a rich, spoiled screw up.

The outdoor temperature in the sun at this hour boasted 52°F and rising. Not bad for a brisk walk, but not the overly warm triple digits this same pool area would harbor in three month’s time. People wanted to use their pools as soon as the temperatures hit the low eighties which required inspecting and repairing the pools in cooler temperatures.

Ready to get out Boss-man? Brodie, the smart-aleck on the crew, crossed his arms over his chest. Not an easy feat for a guy with a chest circumference of fifty plus inches and arms to match.

Anxious to get out of this fix without losing face should have been Trevor's first concern, but survival preempted his faulty leadership skills. His gaze fell on Darin, the youngest man on the crew and Brodie's 'little' brother. Both brothers wore Under Armour and jeans for work this morning. Brodie often beat Darin's tender hearted emotions out of him whether physically or by shear intimidation of muscle and strength. Even so, Darin didn't let Trevor down this time.

Guys, Darin hesitantly pleaded. His lips are turning blue. Shouldn't we help him out?

Brodie dropped his arm, his palm toward Darin as if to catch him with an underhand swing. Not 'til he admits we aren't 'girly-men.' What do you say Trevor? Are we being 'girly-men' for refusing to jump into these unheated pools for another month or so?

Chilled to the bone, Trevor did his best to swim toward the pool steps at the shallow end of the pool. As soon as he thought he could reach, he put his feet down to touch the bottom of the pool. Had the guys warned him the cement owned colder temperatures than the icy water he would have laughed. Now he could barely gasp in shock.

I… Trevor's teeth chattered. Never said 'girly-men'. He locked eyes with Brodie knowing he needed to appear impervious to the cold if he wanted to come out on top in this situation. Could his muscles actually be shriveling? He needed to play the part of leader even if this decision proved one of his less sensible edicts.

No? Brodie held both smaller men back with his tone and imposing presence. Trevor knew neither of them dared cross the ogre. In Brodie's present humor he might toss them in the pool to keep Trevor company.

Trevor shouldn't have lost his temper last week during the combined crew meeting and card game. Mixing business with pleasure proved to be a stupid idea. Business gave way to betting. Insolent wise cracks damaged crew morale causing Trevor to place an unwise wager hoping to improve crew loyalty. Trevor bet his masculinity against Brodie's, more than a simple wager of one man's cajones against another's. Trevor wasn't sure what motivated Brodie, but he suspected just the opposite of what motivated him-- That had instigated a rather reckless decision and now he paid for it in spades. Wanting the guys to work together and get into the pools to inspect them for any needed repairs and make them, wasn't worth catching pneumonia, even if it would pacify his mother and the shareholders. A visceral knowledge of imminent failure hovered over Trevor.

Rufus broke ranks as Darin made an effort to plead Trevor's freezing case to his brother. While Darin kept Brodie busy, Rufus skirted the pair and stood at the top of the pool steps, the terrycloth in hand. Trevor spared little attention to the brother's rivalry until safe from the bone chilling water and frostbite. Rufus draped the towel over Trevor's shoulders before he cleared the icy cold.

Th-thanks, man, Trevor shivered out the gratuity and headed for the sundrenched pool deck. There he laid himself flat, hugging what warmth the hard concrete offered at nine in the morning. He turned his head toward the feuding brothers. Brodie held Darin in a chokehold. Trevor exhaled. At least Brodie wasn't threatening to throw Darin in the pool.

Come on, man, Trevor called across the frigid water. Brodie wasn't a mindless bully; he just acted like it when he believed his manliness was in question. It's me you're mad at this morning and you proved your point. The unheated pools are too cold, even if they've been covered like this one. Let him go.

Brodie continued to hold Darin in his strong grip. He extended his arms over the pool at chest height. Darin struggled to keep his feet on the pool deck. Brodie had him poised above the water at a forty-five degree angle. Darin dared to look over his shoulder at the chilly water below him.

I dare ya, you little wiennie, Brodie taunted his kid brother.

Brodie, Trevor called. You put him in the brink and I'll fire you for harassment.

You wouldn't, Brodie argued, his attention more on Trevor than his captive.

I would. Think about it. You explaining to your sweet mother and your hot girlfriend why your little brother still has a job and you don't.

The taunting look of glee on Brodie's face broke to concern as he squinted at Trevor. Several moments passed while Darin arched his back and tried to keep his feet on the pool deck. Brodie pulled his arms in and let go. Darin scrambled in an awkward dance and managed to remain on dry ground.

You're probably going to fire me for your being in the pool this morning anyway.

Trevor smiled, his lips warming as he lay prone on the pool deck. Brodie's antics never ceased to amaze Trevor. Occasionally a big man like Brodie needed to slink like a dog.

Nope. You didn't push me in. I jumped of my own accord. Trevor pushed up to his elbows, placing his hands flat on the concrete to warm. You know, I didn't call you girly-men.

No? Brodie questioned.

Rufus, you're in my sunlight. Move it, Trevor ordered. Rufus stepped to the side moving his shadow off Trevor's inert form. Trevor resumed his banter with Brodie. I told you that you needed to 'put your big girl panties on' and do the pool inspections.

Darin meandered behind Brodie and mimed pulling on overly large panties. Trevor managed to keep a straight face but Rufus chuckled at Darin's antics. Brodie spun on his antagonist.

Don't do it Brodie. I'm not bluffing about firing you. Trevor warned.

Brodie turned back to glare at Trevor. Fine, but only 'cause I need the money.

Glad to hear it. Trevor hugged the concrete again, thankful for the heat it gave. You need cash, so I take it you're going to represent Prestige Pools at the Mr. Nevada Contest.

Heck no. I'm not parading around in a 'g-string' for no bunch of toothless old fogeys with drool to their chins. Brodie skirted the pool and advanced on Trevor. The bet was that you inspect this pool, not that you'd get in it. Did you have time to inspect the bottom and all the walls in that split second under the water? I doubt it. That means you, Mister Boss-man will be the one putting on a show and strutting your stuff.

Chapter Two

Mercedes rolled her eyes in disbelief. Her twin sister was so different now. When she arrived in town her hair had been .blonde. Over the months it had morphed, with a lot of help from chemical bottles, into a rich auburn that looked pretty good if Porsche kept the roots colored.

Think of it as a late birthday present to me. Porsche coaxed.

You are not dragging me to this— Mercedes shook her head trying to find the right words to describe her distaste, while a smidgeon of interest niggled her thoughts with anticipation. She hadn’t allowed men of any age, weight or size to be a part of her life since leaving home. Now, just months from graduating with her Master’s Degree, Porsche dangled tickets to the most sought after show in Las Vegas. This wasn’t a show on the strip with all the glitter and glitz but real men—local men—available men. This meat market you call an auction for charity.

Well, you don’t have to go to all the events with me. I know how you hate seeing men in speedos. Porsche’s eyes glittered with excitement. No doubt the less the guys wore, the better she’d like it. That is where the differences had started back in the day. Porsche ogled the high school jocks, or at least what their small community had to offer on that agenda. Mercedes had gotten caught watching JC, the post high school playboy in town, in a compromising position. Her jaw had dropped to her knees. While heated embarrassment broke in waves over her, JC had disentangled himself from his latest conquest, pulled up his jeans and approached her. She didn’t remember what he said but she would never forget his meaning. She had no interest in a three-way and even less in him. When it came to women, men were pigs, no matter their age.

But you might really enjoy the evening show, Porsche continued. The talent exhibitions from these guys it should be quite entertaining.

Mercedes knew Porsche’s version of good entertainment didn’t match her own and yet she had ‘pinky promised’ on their birthday to spend an evening with her sister in the coming year. Why, oh why had she allowed herself to believe the evening would never come? It had and in the form of not just one guy, but a whole bunch of them.

Fine, Mercedes bit off the word. But you still owe me an evening for my present. I don’t know what it’ll be, but you better not renege on your side of the bargain.

Porsche pulled on her pink jacket, the one she always wore these days. Pink currently reigned as Porsche’s signature color. Looking in the mirror she pulled the hood up and positioned it about her face.

Me? Renege? When have I ever not kept my word?

Oh, Sister, how about pretty much every time you have a few too many drinks? Don’t deny it. You never could hold your liquor. Why do you drink anyhow?

Because sister dear, its fun.

Mercedes scowled. I wouldn’t call a hangover fun.

Maybe not, but what goes on between the first few drinks and the hangover is… Porsche gyrated her hips enticingly.

I should have asked you to be sober for a whole year for my birthday present. Mercedes grumbled.

Porsche turned her back on the mirror and glared at Mercedes, her posture portraying total defiance. You wouldn’t dare ask me for that. It would be totally cruel and unfair.

Mercedes shook her head gently. Only for you, dear sister. Only for you.

If you do that, you might as well add me swearing off men for the rest of my life.

Mercedes pantomimed a swooning death. Heaven forbid. Your heart might stop.

I know. Right? Porsche kissed her sister and stepped to the bedroom door, adding a shoulder twist and eye roll. Thank you for not being so cruel to your one and only sister.

Chapter Three

To Trevor's surprise the judges of the semi-finals were not from an older generation. If they had been, he wouldn't have felt a whisper of self-consciousness. This group of judges appeared to be a group of very loud and man-hungry women in their twenties and thirties. Of course it made sense. This 'eye-candy' festival in Las Vegas paraded as an opportunity to promote small businesses. An attractive male owner or employee, preferably single, represented local businesses, each vying for one of the generous advertising packages. Trevor knew only the top prize would tide the company over until the season rolled into full gear. He compressed a snide smile on his lips, willing himself to put on a good show in the name of promoting Prestige Pools.

Trevor joined the other forty odd men in Speedos as they paraded around the beautiful pool at the Nugget. Each man wore a number on his right hip. Trevor measured himself against the rest. He stood at six feet two inches, slightly above average. Several of the guys sported obviously spray-painted tans. He knew his was all natural, even if the calendar read the end of March. Spending time in the cooler sunlight seemed warm after his polar dip last month.

Brodie had spent hours with Trevor at the gym and the results were impressive. Trevor hadn't been flabby to begin with, but they'd done a bit of sculpting, and Trevor felt confident, until number thirty-one paused in front of the gaggle of women and entertained them by making his pectorals dance. Whoops and screams filled the air leaving Trevor with little doubt as to the favorite. Several more of the guys joined the dancing pectoral display. Trevor considered it but decided he needed to find a more unique talent for the female audience. He considered what his talent might be as he sauntered past a group of panting females. Dang, this was demoralizing. Still, as luck would have it, he found himself between two apparently less appetizing guys for the duration of the early competition.

The first cut made, he found himself in the next round where he knew he excelled. He looked good in his tuxedo and he knew it. A group of ten guys made the cut. In this round, the