Under the Midnight Stars (2 page)

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes. She wondered why Mimi even bothered to take the time every morning to pile her curly jet-black hair high atop her head and apply a thick layer of makeup to work
here.
Running a small-town diner with her gruff cook husband wasn’t Gabrielle’s idea of a happy life, and it never would be. There was a fairytale ending out there waiting for her, and she’d be damned if anyone told her otherwise.

“Well, Mimi—” Gabrielle placed both hands on her hips. “—it just so happens that I have high expectations for myself, unlike some people I know.” She raised her eyebrows, daring her to interrupt. “This is only temporary for me. I’m just saving up enough money to get myself out of this dull town and into a
real
one, and into a job with a future.”

Mimi raised one corner of her mouth. “Honey, you can’t get a real job until you go to college.”

Mimi’s words stung. Before her mother’s death, Gabrielle had been planning to go to college in Dallas. But all of her dreams had come to a crashing halt with her mother’s passing, and she just didn’t have the strength in her heart yet to get them back.

She swallowed hard to fight the tears forming in her eyes.

The bell over the front door jingled as a customer walked in. Gabrielle exhaled quietly, thankful for being rescued from Mimi’s meddling. It was too early in the morning for sparring.

“I’ve got this one.” Gabrielle pushed through the door to the dining area.

The forced squish of air under the bus jarred Colt from his sleep — the best sleep he’d had in thirty days. He stretched and glanced out the window at the tiny bus depot surrounded by pink oleanders and prickly pear cactus.

“I’ll be damned. It hasn’t changed a bit,” he whispered, and shook his head. The last time he set eyes on the bus depot was the day he and his mother had said good-bye to the only life they had ever known. He had vowed then to return someday — to regain all that his father had lost. Now that he had finally made his way back, he was relieved.

Swallowing hard, he stood and made his way down the narrow aisle to the front of the bus and down the two rubber-coated steps. He placed one scuffed black work boot down on the worn asphalt, followed by the other. After eleven long years, he was finally home.

He strolled to the street corner, glad to see that the rundown country town he’d remembered was exactly the same, only newer. A fresh layer of asphalt covered the cracks in the road. Buildings were spruced up with new paint and modern signs. Traffic lights had replaced most of the old stop signs. And the surrounding trees were much taller.

Taking in a full deep breath of fresh country air, he relished the cleansing of his smog-filled lungs.

With only the clothes on his back, he crossed the two-lane road to the only motel in town. It was a single-story light pink building, with only seven rooms. A white wooden railing ran along the porch in front of the rooms. He stood in the middle of the gravel parking lot and stared up at the buzzing red neon sign that read
The Motel.
Compared to the fancy high-rise hotels in the busy city, its simplicity was a welcome sight. He chuckled to himself, and went inside.

After checking into the motel, Colt made his way down the long wooden porch to room five. He shimmied the worn key into the worn slot and opened the door.

The room’s simple beige décor was soothing. But the hot stale air smelling of cigarette smoke was repulsive. He crossed the room to the window mounted air-conditioner and turned it on full blast. The cool air was refreshing. He took off the plaid shirt he wore over his gray T-shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

He checked his watch. It was four thirty. He decided to prioritize his goals and mark them off one by one until his list was complete. Sitting down at the round table in front of the window, he grabbed the pen and note pad supplied by the motel and began writing.

When he was finished he inspected his list with satisfaction. Food, clothes, truck, bank, house, Shane Whitley, Miranda Briggs. He stared at the last two goals on the list. Who was he kidding, thinking that his childhood best friend and his high-school sweetheart would even recognize him, let alone forgive him. He’d been so heartsick when he moved to the city that he never contacted them. He just left and never looked back. It was easier that way — to forget about his old life, and concentrate on the new.

But it was such a small town he knew he’d eventually have to face them — unless they’d moved, that is. He decided to get his life in order first before he tried to track down Shane Whitley. Miranda, on the other hand, might be married with six kids by now. Tracking her down could stir up trouble.

With a heavy sigh and a grumbling stomach, he folded up his list, shoved it into his back pocket, and left the room, heading for the local diner.

“Can you get the next customer if anyone comes in?” Mimi asked. “I’m going on break.”

“It’s time for me to clock out, but I guess I can take one more.” Gabrielle frowned as she watched Mimi walk away. No one had come into the diner in over an hour and she was ready to leave.

Leaning her elbows on the front counter lined with empty stools, she gazed dreamily out of the window beside her, hoping no one would come in to eat before she went home. Twirling a lock of wavy brown hair from her ponytail, she basked in the warm sunlight pouring through the window. Engulfed in a blanket of warmth, she imagined herself walking along the soft white sands of a deserted tropical beach with her white sundress billowing gently in the breeze. Then, as she trips on the uneven sand, out of nowhere there appears a muscular, handsome, brown-haired, hazel-eyed stranger wearing long shorts — no, wait — wearing jeans with the top button undone. He wraps his strong arms around her waist, rescuing her from a disastrous fall.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” the handsome stranger asks, pulling her close to his sun-warmed, rock-hard chest. Gazing into her eyes, he lowers his head to hers, lips parted…

“Are you all right, ma’am?”

Gabrielle jumped when she realized a customer was standing in front of her. Her cheeks flushed a warm pink.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long day,” she admitted as she looked up at the tall stranger.

Her mouth agape, she was taken aback by his broad frame and striking features. His light brown hair was slightly tousled. An attractive cleft rested in the middle of his chin, partnered perfectly with a prominent nose and strong jawline.

Swallowing nervously, she gazed into his hazel eyes, which were just the opposite of hers, mostly golden. They seemed to pierce right through her, seeing into her soul.

She lowered her lids to avoid his strong gaze, but stopped when she noticed the way his gray T-shirt clung to his biceps.

“Uhhh…” She shook her head slightly, trying to ignore his rugged charm long enough to do her job and not look like a complete idiot. “Here.” She grabbed a flimsy plastic-encased menu and shoved it toward him, clumsily bending it against his chest.

He grinned and eyed the menu before he carefully reached for it.

She quickly pulled it back. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” She cringed as another wave of heat filled her cheeks.

His grin faded. “You can’t hurt me. Not with a weapon of that caliber anyway.”

“Right.” She sighed to relieve her tension.
Come on, Gabby — pull yourself together before he thinks you’re a dimwit.

“I’ll just sit here if that’ll make things easier on you.” He stepped up to the counter and sat on a stool.

She crinkled her nose. “That sure does make things a little easier on me. But not any less awkward since I’m your waitress.”

Another smile formed, but it quickly disappeared between his pinched lips. “How’s about I make things even easier on you and just order a cheeseburger and fries, with a glass of iced tea.”

“So I guess you won’t be needing this?” She held up the menu.

“No, you can keep your weapon.”

“You’re not gonna let me live down my clumsiness, are you?” She slid the menu back into its slot behind the counter.

“Of course I will. I’m trying to make things easier on you, remember?”

“Sorry. I’m usually not this dim-witted. I was just a little embarrassed for being caught daydreaming.”

“Oh? What about?”

She tried to picture the tall handsome hero she’d daydreamed about, but the only face she could see now was that of the man sitting in front of her. “Nothing.” She gulped, trying to push the thought from her head before she turned three shades of red again. “So — cheeseburger, fries, and an iced tea. I’ll be right back.”

Colt watched as she went to the computer at the other end of the counter. Gabrielle, her name tag said.

She glanced back at him and smiled bashfully.

Though Colt smiled back at her casually, he was completely smitten by her beauty. Wisps of chestnut hair fell loosely about her pink cheeks. Her daintily rounded nose stood in perfection above her full rosy smile.

She quickly turned her attention back to the tall silver canister and filled a glass with tea.

He took the opportunity to steal a glimpse of her plush rear end, tucked tightly into her jeans.
This woman is beautiful everywhere,
he thought to himself.

She returned to him.

“Here you go.” She smiled, carefully setting the tea on the counter.

“Thank you, Gabrielle.” He nodded and took a gulp of his iced tea, relishing the icy liquid as it satisfied his taste buds.

A puzzled look crossed her face. “No one calls me by my full name. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Actually, I’m from here. Just got back in town today.”

“Really? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere. How long have you been gone?”

“Eleven years.” Colt tried to keep images of the last decade from flooding his thoughts.

“Eleven years? You’d think in such a small town we would’ve at least seen each other in school.”

“I moved when I was sixteen.” He wondered why he’d never seen this angelic beauty before. Even if she had been an awkward teenager, he was sure he would’ve remembered her spirited green eyes.

“Oh.” She thought for a minute, and then smiled. “That explains it. Eleven years ago I was only twelve. I was still in elementary school.”

“Gabby!” Emmit belted from the kitchen side of the serving counter. He slid a plate of fries and a cheeseburger across it.

She turned and grabbed the plate, setting it in front of Colt. “So what’s your name, anyway? Maybe I’ve heard of you?”

“Colt.” He smiled. “Colton Tayler.”

“Hmmm … sounds familiar.”

“And what about
you,
Gabby, is it, or Gabrielle?”

“Neither. I hate both names.” She sighed. “I hate Gabby more, but no one around here listens to me anyway. And the last name’s Sinclair.”

“Aha!” He grinned with satisfaction. “Sinclair — from the Sinclair ranch. We used to be neighbors.”

A huge grin crossed her face. “That’s right. That’s why your name sounded familiar.” Her grin turned into a slight smile as her enthusiasm faded. “It all seems like another lifetime ago. So much has happened since then, I hardly remember.”

Colt noted a hint of sorrow in her tone. He wondered if her past was just as oppressive as his. He decided it was best not to pry. “You’re right — it was another lifetime ago. Though, I do recall a time when you were running around in pigtails chasing your brother while I was helping Zeke fix your dad’s tractor.”