Читать книгу The Sheriff's Secret Wife - Christyne Butler, Christyne Butler - Страница 8

Last week of January …

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s no need to swear. Do I have to repeat myself?”

Gage stared at his little sister. Okay, not so little, but still younger than him by a decade, sitting on the other side of the aged desk that had once belonged to their father. She’d appeared in his office early this cold Saturday morning to announce she’d gotten a job. At a bar, of all places.

And not just any bar, Racy’s bar.

“Yes.”

“Racy hired me last night to work at The Blue Creek.”

“I was at The Blue Creek last night. I didn’t see you.” Gage refused to concede how just the sound of her name got his blood racing. Damn the woman! What had she done now?

“Well, I was there and I didn’t see you.”

“I stop in most nights to make sure everything is okay.”

“Yes, I can see how the big, bad sheriff waving around his badge would keep everyone on the straight and narrow.”

“I stay out of sight and I don’t wave—” Gage pulled in a deep breath. He slowly released it and dropped his mail to his desk, his attention fully on his sister. “Gina, what are you doing? You’ve got two degrees, one of which is a master’s.”

“For all the good it did me in the real world.”

The pain in his sister’s voice was evident. When she’d arrived home from England just before Thanksgiving, he’d known something was wrong. Even Gina couldn’t finish a year-long fellowship in less than three months.

“Think I’m a bit overqualified to work in a bar?”

“Yes.”

“Or is it I’m not pretty enough?”

Where in the hell had that come from?

Gage studied the rigid set of his sister’s shoulders. Her sheepskin-lined denim jacket had once belonged to their father. With her curly hair pulled back in its usual ponytail and her gold-framed glasses, she could pass for a high school classmate of their younger sister, Giselle.

She certainly didn’t look like the waitresses who, thanks to their short skirts, tight jeans and barely-there T-shirts, served up beers and burgers at Destiny’s local watering hole.

Women like Racy.

Last night she’d been dressed from head to toe in black, from the stomach-baring tank top to the jeans molding her perfect curves to the cowboy boots on her feet. The only color came from her flame-red hair and the gold jewelry she wore at her ears, neck and … belly button.

The piercing was new. It hadn’t been there five months ago. He should know. The gleaming diamond stud had fueled a fantasy he’d awoken from in the early morning hours, drenched in a cold sweat. Par for the course lately.

“Thank you for rushing to my defense.”

Gage blinked, his sister’s dry tone drawing him out of his thoughts. “Huh? No, you’re pretty, you’re beautiful. It’s …”

“I know. The girls who work there look … different.” Gina glanced down at her clothes. “What can I say? My life has been more about books than looks, but Racy said she’d help me.”

“Help you?”

“She offered to give me tips on hairstyles and clothes.”

Gage tried to picture his sister dressed like the flamboyant redhead. His mind wouldn’t allow the visual to come to life. He leaned forward. “Gina, those girls aren’t only selling booze and food. They’re selling a good time. They flirt and tease—hell, Racy’s even got them line dancing on the bar.”

“Racy said some of her girls work to help their families make ends meet.”

“True,” Gage conceded, “but other than last night when’s the last time you were in The Blue Creek? In any bar?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Most of Racy’s girls are young, single and looking for a good time.”

Gina jumped to her feet. “Hey, I, too, am young, single and looking for a good time. I’ve had it with genius IQs and think tanks. All those years away at school, I don’t even know most of the twenty somethings in this town. I want friends my own age. I want to meet guys my own age. Did you know this past summer was the first time …”

Gina’s voice trailed off. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them as she straightened. “I’m doing this, whether you like it or not. I came here first because Racy thought I should tell you.”

“She what?”

“Racy said I should let you know about working for her.”

Yeah, he just bet she did. She’d hired Gina to spite him.

From the moment they’d walked out of the lawyer’s office last August and into the Las Vegas sunshine, she had taken great pleasure in either pretending he didn’t exist or antagonizing the hell out of him. At first, he’d avoided the bar, letting his deputies cover both the peaceful and the more frequent not-so-peaceful watches.

Then during the baseball play-offs a free-for-all had broken out at The Blue Creek. He’d arrived in time to get in the middle of flying fists. After getting knocked on his ass, he’d looked up to find Racy consoling Dwayne McGraw, his former high school teammate. Married with six kids, Dwayne outweighed him by a hundred pounds. He was also too drunk and pissed off about his team losing to listen to anyone telling him to calm down.

Anyone but Racy.

And that’d annoyed Gage more than it should have.

“Hello?” Gina snapped her fingers. “You still with me or have I shocked you into silence?”

“I’m here.” He blinked away the memory. “Look, I can fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“I can talk to the principal at the high school.” He started making notes on his desk calendar. “See if they have any openings. Or I could check with the University of Wyoming—”

Gina slapped her hand on top of his, forcing the pen from his fingers. “I want to meet people my own age, not teach them. Stop trying to solve a problem that isn’t there and stop telling me what to do. Geez, I’m twenty-two, not twelve.”

He looked at his sister. “I’m not telling you what to do.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

A deep sigh gutted from his chest. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he looked at Gina he saw long braids and chunky braces. “Promise me you’ll be careful and not do anything crazy.”

“Like dancing on the bar?” The look in his sister’s eyes matched one he’d seen many times before, both in the mirror and in the faces of their siblings. Determination.

“Gina—”

“I’ve got to go.” She cut him off. “I’m meeting my boss for a makeover session that will create a whole new Gina.”

That’s what he was afraid of. “I like the old Gina.”

“You’re family, you have to say that.” She headed for the door. “Trust me, not every man agrees with you. See you.”

She was gone before he could respond.

Gage frowned. Something was wrong. He’d tried to stay connected to Gina during her years away, especially after the loss of their father. Asking her about it wouldn’t do any good. Unlike the twins, she closely guarded her feelings and her high IQ further isolated her.

He was certain about one thing, though. Working in a bar wasn’t the answer. Maybe he’d better have a talk with Max. Racy managed the staff, but the owner was an old friend of his dad’s. He figured he could get Max to override Racy’s hiring decision.

Confidence filled him as he went back to sorting his mail. The return address for the State Bar Association of Nevada on a business-size envelope caught his eye. A tightening in his gut told him it wasn’t good news. The only dealing he’d had with Nevada lately was the annulment paperwork folded neatly in his top dresser-drawer. He opened the letter and started to read, not quite believing the words. Seconds later, he crushed the letter in his fist.

Racy was proud of herself. Gina had been in her company for over two hours and she still hadn’t asked how her big brother had reacted to the news. She concentrated instead on getting to know Gage’s sister and bringing out the beautiful girl hiding behind the baggy clothes and nondescript hairstyle.

Gina now sported contacts after she revealed she had them, but usually stuck with her glasses. He hair fell in a dark, smooth, glossy curtain and artfully applied makeup, a bit on the heavy side but perfect for the bar, played up those gorgeous Steele blue eyes.

When they’d arrived at The Blue Creek a few minutes ago, she’d given Gina a couple of T-shirts with the bar’s logo to try on. The door to the ladies’ restroom opened and Gina walked into the break room used by the rest of the staff.

“Hey, you look great.”

“You don’t think it’s—” Gina tugged at the tee’s cropped hem that rested above the low waistband of her new body-hugging jeans “—a bit too tight?”

“It’s supposed to be tight, honey, and you have the body for it.” Racy waved her over to the floor-length mirror. “See?”

The relief in the young girl’s eyes when she saw her reflection pulled at Racy’s heart. Not much surprised her anymore, but she’d been floored when the librarian look-alike had asked last night about a job. And she hadn’t hired Gina purely for the satisfaction of getting to her older brother. No, she truly needed help, with two of her girls quitting a week ago.

Ruffling the sheriff’s feathers was only an added bonus.

“We’ll use the next few hours getting you used to the menu and the ordering system,” she said. “You can practice carrying a trayful of drinks, too.”

Gina nodded and they headed for the bar. A raucous country song blared over the sound system. A group of girls, lined up on the middle of the dance floor, broke out into precision dance steps. Horror crossed the girl’s features. “I’m not going to be doing that, am I?”

Imagining the look on Gage’s face when he found his sister dancing on the bar was priceless, but Racy wouldn’t do that to Gina. Besides, Gage hadn’t been back to The Blue Creek since the baseball play-offs melee.

Coward.

“No, those are the Blue Creek Belles. They didn’t perform last night, but they dance as well as serve up food and drinks.” Racy reached beneath the bar to lower the volume on the sound system. “I’m giving you the six tables in that area.”

The relief on Gina’s face switched to panic again. “Six? Are you sure?”

Racy grabbed menus and a large tray. “I’ll be here if you need help, and the other girls will pitch in if things get busy.”

“I really appreciate this.” Gina leaned forward and propped her forearms on the bar. “I was going stir-crazy at home.”

“It must be nice being back with your family.”

Oh, real smooth. Try to get her to talk about her brother without coming right out and asking.

Gina leaned against the bar. “It is good to be home after being gone most of my life to private schools and then college. With Gage finally out of the house, I grabbed the converted attic, complete with its own bath.”

Racy’s hands stilled over the beer bottles in the under-counter cooler. “His place on the lake is done?”

Gina nodded, tucking a long strand of hair behind one ear. She opened the menu, studying the items intently. “Can you believe it? He’s been working on that log house forever.”

Four years, but who’s counting? “Well, I’m sure he’s happy to finally be in his own bachelor pad.”

She had no idea how big of a place Gage had built, but she’d bet her entire Vegas winnings it came complete with an oversize hot tub, pool table and a king-size bed for all six-feet-plus of him.

The memory of another king-size bed, her body pressed deep into the cool sheets with Gage’s hot, hard body draped over—Stop!

Racy groaned and yanked the bottles from the cooler. Doing nothing since Vegas but studying and working should’ve erased the memories of that crazy night, but no, they remained bright and strong and ever-present in her head.

“Hey, boss lady.”

Racy looked up.

Ric Murphy, one of her security team members, stood behind Gina. “Max needs to see you in his office.”

“Okay.” She turned to Gina. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll be here.”

Racy grinned and headed for the stairs that led to the second floor and her boss’s office. Hopefully her office in a few months. A former musician, Max’s band once had a couple of hits on country radio. He’d owned The Blue Creek since the early eighties and had joked about retiring ever since Racy had started working here. And after eight years of waitressing, then bartending and finally managing The Blue Creek, she was ready for the next step.

A step that had been only a dream until she had returned from Vegas with fifty grand in poker winnings.

And another ex-husband.

Her footsteps faltered on the top step. No, not a husband. Ex or otherwise. Her and Gage’s twelve-hour marriage was a mistake, a lapse in judgment that she’d fixed and tried—erotic memories notwithstanding—to forget.

She stopped at the office door and knocked, waiting for Max’s response. At the sound of his gruff bark, she entered and froze.

Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and the same leather bomber jacket he’d worn for years, Gage Steele stood at the large window behind her boss’s desk. He turned, leaned against the frame and stared straight at her. At least she thought so. The ivory Stetson he always wore was pulled low, shielding his eyes.

The Marlboro Man. In the flesh. Minus the cigarette, of course. Mr. Perfect wouldn’t dare to do anything that might be considered a weakness.

“You wanted to see me?” Her tone was sharp, but Racy was glad she got the words past the sudden tightness of her throat.

What the hell was Gage doing here? Was it Gina?

That’s stupid. Of course, he’s here about his sister.

“Ah, there’s a pair of scissors at the barbershop waiting on me.” Max rose from behind his desk. He tugged a coat over his Western dress shirt. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Racy demanded.

Gage stayed silent as he moved out of the older man’s way.

“Be nice.” Max’s words were low, his lips barely moving beneath his bushy gray mustache as he walked toward Racy. He grabbed the door to pull it closed behind him. “And don’t make a mess of my office.”

“Max—” He disappeared before Racy could say another word. She stared at the door for a long moment before the sound of a throat clearing had her whirling around.

“What do you want?”

Gage pushed away from the window. A deep breath expanded his shoulders. His open jacket revealed a dark red chambray shirt over a black thermal pullover. The undone buttons on both shirts showed off the strong column of his neck. Even in the dead of winter the man’s skin carried a glow of deep bronze. A glow she remembered he had over every inch of his—

Racy mentally slammed the door shut on the memory. “Well?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and crossed the office to where she stood. “We need to talk.”

His low voice caused a shiver to dance along her skin. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Dammit, the aged gray sweat jacket again.

Gage’s sweat jacket. Normally, she never left her place with it on, but Gina had shown up while she was studying and she’d forgotten to take it off. She doubted he even remembered how she had come to own it, but she wasn’t going to take that chance. Thankful for the tank top she wore underneath, a quick zip and the jacket was off her shoulders. She used the sleeves to tie it around her waist.

His eyes followed her every move. “Why’d you do that?”

Yeah, like she was going to tell him she was crazy enough to hold on to this thing all these years. “It’s hot in here.”

An unreadable emotion filled his blue eyes. He blinked and it was gone. But his gaze stayed on her as he moved forward until the toes of his boots grazed hers.

She didn’t budge.

For the first time since that weekend in Vegas, she and Gage were alone. Something they’d managed to avoid all these months. Oh, they’d seen each other. It couldn’t be helped in a town the size of Destiny, but they hadn’t spoken.

Until now.

“What are you doing in my bar, Gage?”

The brim of his Stetson grazed her hair. “I thought this place belonged to Max.”

Not for long. “On paper. I’m the one who keeps it running.”

“Always to the point, aren’t you?”

“What I am is busy.” She broke free from his hypnotic gaze and again crossed her arms. A few side steps had her resting her backside against Max’s desk. “So, why did you scare my boss out of his office?”

Gage turned, his clenched fists visibly pressing against the creased leather. “We need to talk about a couple of things—”

“And one of them is your sister.” Racy cut him off with a wave of her hand. “You went to Max about her working here, and what? Called in an old family favor? But he told you to deal with me. So, go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

“My best shot?”

“In convincing me to fire her, but I’ll give you my answer right now. No way.”

His mouth pressed into a hard line, then he said, “This is the last place Gina should be working.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Because?”

“The girl has a master’s degree in twentieth-century British and Irish studies.”

“And that’s going to hinder her in carrying a trayful of burgers and beer?”

“Dammit, Racy! She’s not equipped to deal with the horny cowboys and college kids that come in here.”

“Unlike me, you mean.”

“You certainly have a way of keeping them in line.”

From anyone else, she might’ve taken that as a compliment. Coming from Gage, it sounded more like an insult. “If you’re referring to that brawl in October, I was handling everything just fine until you walked in.”

“Including Dwayne. After I stopped his fist with my face.”

She fought against a grin and lost. “You should’ve ducked.” Her tone turned serious again. “Look, I wasn’t going to let Dwayne use a lopsided loss by his team as an excuse to start a fight. Besides, his right hook didn’t shake you up too bad.”

“It hurt like hell.”

Let it go. You don’t want to go there. “Well, I’m sure the ample attention one of my Belles heaped on you led to a speedy recovery.” Too late, dammit!

“Tammy brought me a raw steak for my eye.”

“With a healthy side order of cleavage and fawning.”

His gaze dropped from her face to her chest. Racy knew the flimsy cotton tank top was no match against the purple satin push-up bra filled with her own generous assets. She tightened her arms beneath her breasts and took a deep breath.

A single tic danced over his jaw. Served him right.

His gaze moved higher and lingered on her neck. She had to fight to keep her hand from going to her throat. The love bite he’d left above her collarbone was long gone. It had taken almost three weeks for the mark to disappear, but the memory of how she’d gotten it, and who’d given it to her, remained powerfully strong.

Especially when the man was standing right in front of her.

His eyes locked with hers again. “I think your Belles lead by your example.”

“Your deputies must do the same. Tammy’s got a busier social life than Britney Spears and Paris Hilton put together.”

“Present company excluded. I’m not interested in Tammy.”

He backed up a few steps and yanked off his hat. A quick push of his fingers through his dark hair left spiky tufts standing on end. They disappeared when he returned the Stetson to its proper place. “My point is Gina could be teaching at any college in the country.”

“She’s twenty-two years old.” Racy broke in, glad he was backing off about the bar fight. And from her. She was still reeling from his statement about not being interested in her waitress. Why, she didn’t want to consider. “Your sister wants to have some fun, meet people and wear sexy jeans.”

“That’s not Gina.”

“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.” Racy pushed away from the desk and took a wide circle around him. Not wide enough. Her bare arm brushed against his jacket as she headed for the door. The movement caused goose bumps to skate down to her fingers.

He followed. “We’re not finished here.”

“Yes, we are. I’m not firing Gina.”

“This isn’t about Gina. It’s about us.”

Racy’s hand tightened on the doorknob as she wrenched it open. “Nice try in changing tactics, but there is no ‘us.’”

“I’m talking about Vegas.”

One booted foot hesitated at the threshold. A rocking country song that warned of T-R-O-U-B-L-E rang in the rafters. “We agreed to never bring that up again.” She tossed the words over her shoulder.

Gage’s arm shot out.

His palm landed against the doorjamb blocking her exit. “If you keep walking, I’m going to follow.” He leaned in, his mouth at her ear in order to be heard over the loud music. “Do you want everyone to find out we’re still married?”

Racy’s vision blurred at his hotly whispered words. “What?”

Gage pulled her back into the office and kicked the door closed. He turned her to face him, the warmth of his touch on her bare shoulders searing her skin. He placed one hand beneath her chin and gently forced her to look him in the eye.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His rich baritone voice, barely above a whisper, caused a brand-new Vegas memory to spring to life. Five months ago he’d asked her the very same question. About what, she couldn’t remember, but the recall left her feeling warm and fuzzy.

“Racy?”

She locked the memory away with the rest from that night and twisted free from his hold. “You’re lying!”

“I’m—what? Why would I lie about something like this?”

She didn’t know, but he had to be. How could they—no, they couldn’t. They couldn’t still be married! Two hours in that stuffy lawyer’s office had taken care of the legal mumbo jumbo before they’d left Vegas. “If you’re playing some sick game—”

A loud buzz cut off her words and brought forth a classic F-bomb she’d never heard Gage utter before. He grabbed the two-way radio from the belt clip at his hip and brought it to his mouth. “Steele here.”

“Sheriff, Deputy Harris here.”

His eyes never wavered from her. “What is it, Harris?”

Racy listened as the calm voice of one of her best friends filled the air. “We caught some kids drag racing on Razor Hill Road. Got one driver. Still in pursuit of the second.”

“Fine, bring ‘em in.”

“Ah, Sheriff … Garrett is the driver.”

His younger brother. Gage’s eyes closed, but Racy still caught the shadow of fear in their blue depths.

“Was he—was anyone hurt?”

“Negative.”

He released a held breath and opened his eyes. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the office.”

“Roger that. We’re on our—wait one,” a crackle came from the walkie-talkie before Leeann came back on. “Deputy Bailey just pulled up. He’s got the second driver in custody.”

“Good. Contact the parents of the other driver.”

“Sheriff, the other driver is Giselle.”

Racy bit back a choke of laughter, but part of it escaped in a loud oomph. Gage and Gina’s twin siblings, both seniors at Destiny High School, caught drag racing. Each other.

Hell, she’d done the same thing many times as a teen in her father’s rattrap of a pickup that hid a killer engine. Usually against Bobby Winslow, who never seemed to get caught. But she had been, and her old man had left her overnight in jail while he and her brothers went on a bender in Cheyenne.

She doubted the Steele twins faced the same fate.

Gage’s eyes narrowed as he took in her attempt to hold back her amusement. “I’m on my way. And take their cell phones. They aren’t to talk to anyone until I get there.”

“Their cell phones?” Racy asked.

Gage ended the call and jammed the radio back on his hip. “Those two will call our mother with a sob story so fast, she’ll end up lecturing me instead of them.”

Racy didn’t doubt it. Sandy Steele was well known for her nurturing. Racy had experienced it firsthand years ago when the woman had provided a hot meal, a homemade quilt and a soft pillow to a scared teenage girl who’d spent the night in one of her husband’s jail cells.

The heat of Gage’s touch as he grabbed her hand and slapped an envelope into it yanked Racy back to the present.

“Read this,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”

Her fingers curled around the letter as he headed for the door in Max’s office that led directly to the front lobby. She read the envelope’s return address. Her stomach dropped to her feet. “Gage, this … this can’t be real.”

“Oh, it’s real.” He paused at the door to look at her. “Welcome to my nightmare.”

Racy stood frozen in place after he left. Then a knock came on the door. She shoved the envelope into her back pocket and turned. “Come in.”

Gina peeked inside. “Has the smoke cleared?”

“What smoke?”

“No one can smolder better than my brother. Gage was here about me.” The forlorn expression on Gina’s face spoke volumes. “And don’t ask me how I know. I’m the smart one, remember?”

Racy crossed the office and ushered the girl toward the stairs, quickly deciding it wasn’t her place to relay the antics of Gina’s younger siblings. She’d leave that for Gage or their mother. “Yes, he was here, and no, you aren’t fired.”

When Gina got to the bottom step she turned to face Racy. “The last thing you need is my big brother acting like … well, a big brother. Any more than he already does.”

A pang Racy attributed to the craziness of what Gage had just told her hit her square in the gut. The folded envelope in her back pocket seemed to burn through her jeans.

“How’s that?”

“You know, overprotective, watching my every move, staring down any guy that even looks at me.”

So that’s what big brothers did. Too bad nobody had filled in Billy Joe and Justin, who thought their sister was put on earth to keep their buddies occupied, steal bail money from and clean up after their lazy asses. Like father, like sons.

“Don’t worry,” Gina continued. “He’ll behave tonight.”

Racy focused on the young woman’s assurance. “What?”

“He’s here most nights.”

“Gage hasn’t been here in over two months.”

“I was teasing him earlier—oh, that’s right. He said he stays out of sight most of the time.”

Out of sight? That’s impossible.

Built on the same location as the original saloon, The Blue Creek had expanded over the years but remained on one level with an open floor plan. From her vantage point at the main bar, she could see everything, including the smaller bar on the far side near the pool tables and dartboards.

There were pockets of darkness, but there was no way Gage had stepped inside these walls and she hadn’t known about it. The kitchen was off-limits to customers, as well as the second floor. The only rooms up there were Max’s office and storage areas. Most of the doors off the balcony were fake, mimicking bedrooms where saloon girls would’ve taken—

The balcony.

Racy’s gaze shot to the three-foot-wide area, complete with support beams and railing that ran three-quarters’ way around the bar. Always in the shadows, but especially at night, someone could be there and she’d never know it.

How many nights had he done that? Before Vegas he used to come into the bar and deal with her face-to-face. Now he was hiding. And was that before or after he’d got the letter in her back pocket?

“Racy?” Gina’s voice cut through her haze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Proud of the control in her voice, she pasted on a smile and showed Gina the easiest way to get a loaded tray off the bar without spilling its contents. “Why don’t you practice carting this back and forth? It can get heavy.”

Gina walked away and Racy again stared above her head.

Welcome to my nightmare.

Gage’s condescending words rang again in her ears. Okay. If he wanted to play games, she’d play. And if he wanted to watch, she’d give him a show to remember.