12-Alarm Cowboys (71 page)

For a brief second, a haunted look clouded her blue gaze.

Again, he got the impression something had happened in her past related to childbirth, but he wasn’t stupid enough to push. And why should he? They hardly knew each other well enough to dive into something so personal.

Hell, he didn’t
want
to know her that well. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. And since the woman just reassured him she was, and stopped shaking, he needed to leave.

“Well, good luck on your first day here, and flying solo.”

She blew out a breath and nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’ll do great.” He sent her his best reassuring grin. “See you around.”

“Yep.” She nodded again. “See you around.”

Neither of them moved, even though they both had jobs to do. The longer they stared at each other, the warmer it became, until his body temperature reached critical mass. He fought the need to strip them both naked and assuage their burning. But, because they were combustible and had wisely decided to leave things in the past, he pivoted on his booted heel and strode for the door.

Chief Tattersall was going to wonder what the hell happened to him. Considering he was five minutes late, he knew the drill. A phone call was eminent. The last thing he needed on his conscious was another hot embrace with the tempting beauty. Given the amount of heat that had entered her gaze when she’d stared at his mouth a second ago, that was exactly what would happen if he didn’t leave as if his pants were on fire.

As he pushed through the door and fished the ringing phone from his pocket, Tanner silently admitted his body was a walking inferno and Gwen was the accelerant.

A dangerous combination. One to be avoided at all costs.

Trick was getting his body to agree.

‡

F
aith Ann McCall
was born forty-three minutes after her mother had arrived at the hospital. Relief had eased the stiffness from Gwen’s spine the second Jordan had called to tell her the good news. It had been the icing topping a slightly lumpy cake on her first day of work at the Tex Pub.

That was nearly two weeks ago. Finding her feet in a restaurant that served some dishes she’d never even heard of—let alone cooked before—had been a challenge. One she thoroughly enjoyed. Who knew?

The staff had been knowledgeable and friendly, which had also surprised Gwen. She wasn’t used to being accepted without having to prove herself worthy. All those years of serving at her dad’s diner had actually rubbed off. Stuck to her ribs. When she’d been young, she couldn’t wait to leave, to get away from the place and the tedious, boring chores of peeling, cutting, slicing, simmering, frying, and baking. Now, she found the tasks created a completely different emotion. It made her feel like…home.

It was familiar, and she felt a certain amount of comfort in the kitchen, turning out entrees and desserts on command. The pace was hectic and frenzied, but always upbeat and gratifying. Especially when customers complimented the cook.

Gwen was no Kerri McCall, not by a long shot, but she was pleased to know the woman’s customers were happy and satisfied with her attempts to fill in. They even enjoyed the pierogies she’d made one night, exposing the good people of Harland County to her polish side. She took her role seriously, even so far as to practice at night in her cottage if she was unsure of the next day’s special. And she was getting good, too; a fact her hips and thighs could attest from sampling her results.

“I’ll bite,” Caitlin said. “Why are you smiling?”

Gwen blinked and brought her mind back to the present, and the fabulous sundae dripping with chocolate and caramel the woman set in front of her, making her taste buds sing.

“Anticipation,” she replied, pointing to her treat.

The same treat she ordered every time she stopped by The Creamery to chat with her new friends, Caitlin Ryan, another Harland County transplant, and Lacey Turner, a lifelong resident; her go to person if she had a question about someone or something in town.

The two women were several years younger than her, but they’d bonded over the fact they’d started their new jobs the same week. Caitlin was working her way through college, and Lacey was working her way through going stir crazy. They met a couple times a week, usually when one of the women had a shift at the ice cream shop.

Like now. Caitlin was on duty, and on her break, while the woman’s college buddy, Donny, manned the window counter. He was cute in an awkward way, always blushing beet red whenever he glanced at Gwen. She knew right off he’d recognized her, but he always glanced away and never said a word.

She got that a lot. She also got the opposite. The jerks who thought it amusing to inform her that her swimsuit photos came in handy…in the bathroom.

“Yeah.” Her friend smiled as she sat across from her with a strawberry smoothie. “You do tend to like chocolate.”

“Who doesn’t?” Lacey asked, spoonful of Death by Chocolate rising to her mouth. The dark-haired, blue-eyed woman would’ve been stunning in print. Her strong personality would’ve leapt off the page, and probably gotten her in trouble, too.

Gwen swirled her spoon through a glob of caramel and chocolate. “It’s my one vice. I’ve been lucky enough to sample it from all over the world.”

Caitlin nodded. “I’m so envious. And you’re so blonde.” She tugged on a strand of her own hair. “Mine is a non-color. Not really dark blonde or light brown. Just sort of…meh. But yours is golden and long and sleek. The perfect shade.”

She reeled back, along with Lacey who stopped eating, and together they frowned at their misguided friend. “You need to drop those blinders you have on, Cate.”

“What do you mean?”

“She means, you have gorgeous, wheat-colored hair with sun kissed golden strands haloing your head,” Gwen informed with a wave of her spoon. “The perfect shade to compliment your blue eyes.”

“I do not.”

“
Yes
, you do.” Lacey shoulder-checked the ignorant woman.

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

“It’s not just me. There are plenty of cowboys that come in here just waiting for you to bat your lashes their way.”

“No.” The woman laughed. “They’re here for
you
. Not me.”

“Right.” Lacey snorted. “That’s why they line up at your counter, not mine.”

Caitlin blinked, meeting her gaze, a look of puzzlement lining her face.

“It’s true,” Gwen said. Apparently, her friend’s naiveté extended to her beauty. “I’ve seen them, too.”

The sweet woman shook her head and laughed. “It’s news to me. Why the heck don’t the guys make a move?”

“Because they’re idiots,” Lacey replied, stabbing at her ice cream. “They think we can read minds. And we should make the first move. And when we do, they…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced up at them, then waved her spoon. “They’re idiots.”

Tell us how you really feel
, Gwen thought to herself, unable to voice the words due to a mouthful of ice cream.

“Yeah, we got that part.” Caitlin scooted closer. “Care to elaborate on who this particular idiot is?”

“Nope.” Lacey scraped ice cream from her bowl. “But I would like to know what Gwen’s favorite chocolate is and where it’s from, since she said she’s sampled a lot.”

Nice subject change
. The woman was a master. But, she played along. Mostly because she was happy to talk about chocolate.

“Believe it or not, my favorite comes from the Poconos. My friend Jill is a chocolate connoisseur. She’s so good, some big New York conglomerate just picked her up and wants to market her chocolate.”

“Oh!” Caitlin pointed at her with her spoon. “She’s the one who made the chocolate penis pops, right?”

She grinned. “Yes.”

“Wait. Chocolate penis pops?” Lacey blinked at them. “Mmm…they sound yummy. And naughty. I’d like to get my hands—and mouth—on one of them.”

Caitlin set her spoon down and reached for her water. “The pops were a big hit at Brandi’s bachelorette party, and so good they melted in your mouth.”

Gwen recalled having several melt-in-your mouth experiences that day.

A wicked grin curved the dark-haired woman’s lips. “A chocolate co—”

“Don’t say it,” the sweet girl cut their abrasive friend off, half-choking on her water as she glanced around the semi-crowded shop. “There are kids in here.”

“Yeah, so? They’re clear across the room, and too busy shoveling ice cream into their faces.” Lacey narrowed her gaze. “Besides,
you
said penis.”

Caitlin blushed to the roots of her shaking head. “It’s not the same.”

Lacey snickered. “Trust me, Cate. A penis and a cock are exactly the same.”

Gwen laughed as she watched the two arguing over chocolate penises. Not an everyday conversation, but an interesting one.

“Let’s get back to Gwen.” A blue gaze stared at her, pleading. “You were about to tell us the name of your favorite chocolate dessert.”

“Right,” she said, taking pity on the poor girl. “That would be the special chocolate Jill made for my sister called
Better Than
. It’s to die for.”

Lacey frowned. “Better than what? Sex?”

She laughed. “No, well, yes…that’s what we’d originally called it, but Jill had to drop the sex because of the younger clientele.”

“So, no sex.”

“Right.”

A black brow rose. “But is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Better than sex?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but then memories of sex with Tanner flooded her mind and warmth spread low in her belly. Although she only had the one time to compare, it had been enough for her to form an opinion. And the answer was a solid no.

Dammit
.

She sighed. “For the most part.”

“Ooohooo…” Lacey’s grin broadened as she pointed to Gwen. “You hesitated. Who was he? Come on. Fess up. Who was the guy who was better than the
Better Than
chocolate you love so much?”

Ah hell
.

Lying wasn’t an option, but neither was telling the truth. And there was no way her cantankerous friend would let it drop without some sort of answer. The woman was like a rabid dog when she sunk her teeth into anything juicy.

Besides, Gwen had vowed to turn that new leaf and keep things above board. But
damn
. Being truthful sucked. She never thought it would be so tough.

“I know him, don’t I?” Lacey’s blue eyes sparkled with interest. “Jeez, girl, you’re quick. You’ve only been in Texas two weeks.”

“I don’t think it happened in Texas, Lacey,” Caitlin observed quietly.

She
knew
.

Bless her. Sweet girl was trying to help Gwen keep Tanner a secret. Just as she’d keep Caitlin and Keiffer hush-hush; although, she doubted either of their Pocono liaisons weren’t old news.

“Interesting.” Gaze, calculating and shrewd, the brunette stared her down while tapping her chin with her finger. “Since you didn’t deny that I know him, or dispute Caitlin’s claim about Texas, it must mean this epic sexcapade took place the weekend of Brandi’s wedding.”

Witch.

“Save your efforts,” she said with a grin. “It was a one and done type of thing. Water under the bridge.” Although, she had dreamed about floating in those waters for a bit. No harm in fantasizing.

“Yeah, but it had to be pretty epic to rank higher than your favorite dessert.” Lacey sighed. “I was trying to live vicariously through you. Spoil sport.”

Gwen swallowed a snicker. She was about as vicarious as a piece of cardboard.

She enjoyed her ice cream in silence for a whole minute. So did Caitlin and Lacey. A new record for the three of them.

“I have to get back to work soon, but there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you, Gwen.” Caitlin clasped her hands in front of her on the table as if mustering up courage.

Concern tripped her pulse. She reached out and covered the woman’s cold hands. “Hey, you can ask me anything. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Well, since we were talking about the wedding, it made me think of Keiffer. H-how is he?”

Lacey turned to the woman and raised a brow. “Who’s Kieffer?”

“One of Brandi’s brothers. We…ah…had some fun that weekend.”

A smile tugged at the
witch
’s lips. “Fun, huh?”

“Yeah.” Caitlin smiled, pulling her hands out from under Gwen’s. “I was in a bit of a funk since my ex dumped me for Uncle Sam. And Keiffer, well, he made me feel good about myself. You know?” Her attention returned. “I was wondering how he was doing since his friend’s suicide.”

“Oh, wow.” Lacey’s expression sobered.

Gwen was tempted to sugar coat the truth in an effort to spare the sweet woman, but that would only do them all a disservice. What happened was tragic, and poor Keiffer was a changed man.

“Not good,” she replied, recalling his pale expression, pinched tight with pain and grief and guilt. “He’s hurting. And blaming himself.”

Caitlin frowned. “But why?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s just not in a good place.”

“That’s what I thought.” The woman blinked back tears and blew out a breath. “We chatted on Facebook once in a while, but sometime in the past two weeks, he cancelled his account.”