“My father showed his true colors in the aftermath, threatening to pull his support of a new library if the school didn’t handle the press releases about the death the way he wanted.” Gage closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, there was a flinty determination in his gaze. “Our names were never mentioned in connection to the accident, nor was the school’s. But while Nigel Striker was being a first-class selfish bastard, Alonzo Salazar did everything humanly possible to help us weather the loss of a friend.”

The fierce loyalty of the Mesa Falls Ranch owners toward the Hollywood Newlyweds author began to make sense. No matter what Alonzo might have done after the boys went on to graduate, he’d been a friend and mentor to them through unimaginable pain after the death of their friend.

“No wonder you’re protective of his legacy,” she observed softly, shifting positions to stroke a hand along Gage’s back. She felt the ripples of tension relax under her fingertips.

“He might not have been much of a parent to his own sons, but he was the best teacher imaginable to a bunch of kids hanging on to their sanity by the skin of their teeth. He found local jobs for the ones who needed physical activity, and he found causes for the ones who needed something to shout about. Wes ended up as a lifeguard, where he found his passion for saving people.” Gage turned toward her, cupping her cheek in his palm. “For me, Alonzo knew that I’d been interested in investing after I did well on a project where we invested in an imaginary company. So Alonzo signed me up for an electronic trading account and put a few hundred bucks in it. Said I could lose it if I wanted, but if I made money, he wanted ten percent of everything.”

“Really?” She hadn’t expected that. She plugged in what she’d learned about Alonzo with this new glimpse of Gage’s past. “Didn’t he teach English classes?”

She tipped her cheek more firmly into Gage’s hand, drinking in the feel of his caress. Craving more. Sensing that he needed the physical connection, too.

“Yes, but our school had a lot of curriculum overlap. He was friends with the business teacher and knew about the project.” Gage lifted a dark eyebrow. “Good thing for me, I guess. I made both of us a tidy sum that year, and I became obsessed with investing.”

“What about your friends—” she started to ask, but Gage laid a finger over her lips.

“I think I’ve had all the sharing I can handle for one night.” The serious look in his eyes told her how much the conversation had cost him. But he didn’t remove his finger from her lips, and his focus slowly lowered there. “I need to think about something else...or better yet, not think at all.”