by Abby Gaines
“I can’t argue with that,” Jane said. “Let’s get to work.”
As they talked about what might happen, and how Micki could shape the evening for success, the other woman’s determination made Jane reevaluate her own attitude. She’d decided there was no future for her as part of Daisy’s life. And by extension, of Kyle’s. Kyle had offered her the opportunity and she’d backed away, justifying her decision on her own principles of self-defense, of not letting herself get hurt. Because I’m afraid.
“What if it doesn’t work out with Charles?” she asked Micki. “You’ll be heartbroken. Don’t tell me you won’t.”
“Yeah,” Micki said soberly. “Not to mention mortified, having to face him every day. But the reward outweighs the risk. Nothing is more important than love.”
Micki was right, Jane realized. Cowards couldn’t win. Since when have I been a coward?
* * *
“HEAR YOU HAD A LITTLE trouble in the hardware store the other day.” Gabe closed the door behind him as he entered Kyle’s office.
Kyle kicked back in his mayoral chair, more than ready to temporarily abandon his work on the town development proposal. “Isn’t gossip a sin?”
“Not when it’s pastoral care.” Gabe sat down, one foot resting on the other knee. “And not when your campaign manager is trying to help you.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Drop the pastoral care, and I’ll talk campaign with you. Did Annie Talbot say something?”
“Just that you’re hooking up with Janelle Slater, and there’s no way this town needs a Slater behind the throne.”
Kyle groaned. “Like being mayor of this town bears any resemblance to royalty.”
“You’re not denying you and Jane are an item?” Gabe asked. “You seemed pretty cozy at Daisy’s party.”
Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me,” Gabe said lightly. “People tell me I’m a good listener.”
Not that Kyle could tell his brother the whole sorry story, but he was suddenly tempted to talk about Jane to someone who wouldn’t have a knee-jerk bad reaction.
“I’m not sure what’s going on, or what I want from her,” Kyle said. “One minute we’re burning up...”
Gabe pointed at his ears. “Holy ears, be careful.”
Kyle grinned. “Next minute, she’s backing off like I have double dose of leprosy—that’s a biblical thing, right?”
“Not in the sense you’re talking about.”
“Jane thinks we’re too different, and that in the long term we won’t be able to get past those differences.” The whole thing would make a lot more sense if he could tell Gabe the truth about the donor egg, but he didn’t want to.
“She may be right,” Gabe said. “And I don’t say that lightly. People aren’t as good at forgiving and forgetting as they should be. Mostly because it’s not easy.” He swung his feet up to rest on the other side of Kyle’s desk. “How do you feel about her?”
A month ago, he’d have said he disliked her. Two weeks ago, he’d have suggested his liking for her was all wrapped up in that DNA she’d supplied. Now...there was more to it than DNA, he was pretty sure. “I think I like her.”
Gabe looked disappointed in his lukewarm answer. He lowered his feet to the floor. “Do you like her enough to give up on this election?”
Kyle’s jaw dropped. “You think it’ll come to that?”
“People have strong views about the personal lives of those in power.” Gabe’s gaze searched Kyle. “I know you feel strongly about the direction Pinyon Ridge should take, and if you don’t get elected that probably won’t happen.”
Kyle scowled at the thought of Wayne Tully’s cheap and cheerless plans coming to fruition.
“You might need to decide between Jane and this town.” Gabe paused. “I can’t tell you what that choice should be.”
“You’re a preacher—shouldn’t you be advocating love above all else?” Kyle asked.
“Absolutely. Love is above all else,” Gabe said. “But liking, or mild interest, or lust, curiosity...those things may not compete with the future of Pinyon Ridge.”
“Do I have to decide what I feel right now?” Kyle asked.
“Ordinarily I’d say take your time, don’t rush it,” Gabe said. “But if you’re going to stand down, you might want to do it in time for someone else to have a run at the mayoralty.”
Kyle wasn’t sure who else would stand, but anyone would be better than Tully.
“And if you decide to stick with the mayoralty and it becomes clear a relationship with Jane will stop you winning, the sooner you let her down the better,” Gabe said. “She’s vulnerable beneath that smart-mouth Slater surface.”
“I know that,” Kyle said, annoyed. He didn’t like the thought of Gabe having insight into Jane. “It’s not like there’s anything formal to put an end to at this stage. We’re not dating. There’s no commitment.” Someone knocked on the office door. “That’ll be Trisha with the coffee. Come in,” Kyle called.
It wasn’t Trisha. Jane walked into his office, cute as anything in that cherry-red sundress he liked. “Hi, I wanted—oh, hi, Gabe.”
“Hey, Jane.” Gabe stood. “Didn’t see you in church on Sunday.”
“No? Maybe you’re shortsighted.” She widened those tawny eyes, and Kyle chuckled. Attagirl.
He felt Gabe’s interested gaze on him.
“Is there a problem?” he asked. It was unusual for her to show up at his office. In fact, the last time had been when she’d broken the news about Daisy’s DNA.
“Not at all,” she assured him. “Actually, I just came to, uh—” her cheeks pinkened and she darted a look at Gabe “—ask if you want to go to dinner Friday night.”
“You mean, like, out for a burger with Daisy?”
Her color deepened. “Not a burger. And not Daisy. Just you—” she drew a fortifying breath “—and me.”
She was asking him on a date! Elation surged through Kyle...followed swiftly by the recollection of his brother’s words. Gabe would say he shouldn’t agree unless he’d made up his mind he wanted her more than the mayoralty. But Kyle knew how much it had cost her to ask him out. To put herself in a place where he could reject her. He couldn’t say no.
“I’d love to,” he said, and a big part of him meant it. “But I have a planning and development committee meeting Friday. Could we switch to Saturday? Assuming Dad’s free to babysit.”
“Dad’s going into Frisco on Saturday,” Gabe said. “Some guy he used to know is passing through the area.”
“I didn’t hear about that.” Or was Gabe making that up to let him off the hook? Which wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. “Maybe another time,” he told Jane.
“I can babysit Saturday, though,” Gabe offered.
Huh? What was his brother up to?
“You have church Sunday morning.” Kyle stated the obvious.
“So you’ll need to be back by eleven,” Gabe said.
“That’s fine,” Jane said quickly, as if she might lose her nerve if she didn’t snap up his offer.
“Maybe we should go into Frisco for dinner,” Kyle said. Where voters like Annie Talbot won’t see us.
“No.” Jane looked alarmed. “That won’t be an early night for Gabe. Besides, I’m keen to try the French place here in town.”
“The French place sounds good.” Kyle surrendered. “I’ll make a reservation.”
“Gr
eat.” She sounded more relieved than excited. But she looked kind of...hot and bothered, her cheeks pink, eyes bright.
He rather liked the thought of her hot and bothered. He found himself looking forward to their dinner. One date didn’t count as a commitment, he told himself as Jane departed. He could still back out without anyone getting hurt.
He wrapped up the meeting with Gabe soon after, neither of them very satisfied with how it had gone.
After his brother left, Kyle sat thinking about Jane, about their upcoming date. It was all very well for Gabe to be simplistic—he would surely agree it was more complicated if he knew the whole story. If Jane wasn’t Daisy’s biological mother, and Kyle was forced to choose between her and the mayoralty, what would he do?
Probably, he’d pick the mayoralty. He didn’t like himself for it, but the fact was, he loved this town; he and his family were invested in its future. Whereas with Jane, he wasn’t sure what he felt and he wasn’t sure she would ever be able to commit to a future that involved him. And vice versa.
* * *
CHARLES STEPPED INTO the Eating Post for the second time that Saturday, shutting the door behind him. He’d waited in his truck until he could see the place was near empty. A bunch of young moms, regulars who left the kids with their husbands for an hour on a Saturday afternoon, had just departed in a noisy gaggle, and through the window, Charles had seen Micki clearing their table.
Micki hadn’t heard him come in over the clatter of dishes she was piling into the sink. He watched her for a moment, enjoying her brisk, economic movements, the slight sway of the womanly hips that her jeans hugged as she moved along the counter, wiping and tidying.
He shouldn’t be here. This was foolishness, an old man’s vanity, to think who he dated might matter to her. Yet he felt guilty, as if he were cheating on their friendship. The urge to obtain her blessing had grown irresistible.
Before he could make good on the impulse to turn tail, Micki turned. Her face lit up with the smile he...liked.
“Charles! Wow, you look great.” She wiped her hands on a towel and came around the counter to inspect him.
Okay, maybe he was also here out of insecurity, needing some kind of reassurance before he went to meet Michelle Barratt. Because Micki’s approval filled him with confidence.
“Ve-ry nice,” Micki said, ending her thorough perusal.
She probably meant “for an old guy.” Still, Charles was fairly sure his grin was goofy. He’d worked hard on his appearance. Got a haircut this morning, shined his boots. And he wore new tan chinos with a navy blue shirt.
“I wondered if I should leave the shirt hanging out,” he said, “the way Kyle and Gabe do. But...”
“Not your style,” she assured him.
“No,” he agreed, relieved. He wasn’t a young guy, and he wasn’t meeting a young woman. So the shirt was tucked into his pants, and Charles was proud to note he still had a pretty fine figure.
“You look great, too,” he mumbled, suddenly shy. He realized it was true. She was...alight in a way he hadn’t seen her before. He groaned inwardly—this was so not what he needed.
She chortled and rubbed at a mark on her T-shirt, just above her right breast. “Oh, yeah, bacon fat is a good look.”
“You always look good to me, Micki,” he said, bold now that he had a date with another woman, a suitable woman.
As if she’d read his mind, she said, “So, what’s with the new clothes? Do you have a hot date?”
“No!” Which was kind of true. Michelle Barratt sounded charming in her letters, but she didn’t sound hot. “I’m headed into Frisco. I have, uh, business there.”
“You’re going to Frisco? Now? Great, could you give me a ride?”
“No!” Charles said again, aghast.
She raised her eyebrows in hurt surprise, and Charles babbled, “It’s just, I’m not sure when I’ll be coming back. And I have a lot to think about on the way. I’ll be bad company.” All of those excuses sounded pathetic.
“I won’t make a sound,” Micki promised. “And it doesn’t matter when you’re coming back. I’m overnighting with a friend. I can get a ride up with the Sunday milk run tomorrow.”
“But—” Charles couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. He could hardly explain that after half an hour cooped up in his truck with the gorgeous Micki, he’d be in no shape to look at Michelle Barratt with an open mind. “Can’t you take your own car?”
She shook her head. “I got a flat this morning and Joe didn’t have the right size in his workshop. He’s ordered one up from Frisco, but I’d been thinking I’d have to cancel my evening.”
“Why do you want to go to town tonight anyhow?” he asked, sounding churlish.
Micki didn’t seem to notice. “A couple of ex-Pinyon Ridge girls are having a night out at the Lizard Lounge.”
He couldn’t reasonably refuse Micki’s request. Charles knew the Lizard Lounge—it stood at the other end of Frisco from the restaurant where he’d arranged to meet Michelle. It wasn’t the sort of place a fifty-three-year-old woman would hang out. And truth to tell, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend the time with Micki.
Just one last time thinking of her as more than a friend.
“Okay,” he said on a sigh. He liked the sound of Michelle Barratt but he wasn’t holding out much hope she’d be hot, as Gabe would say. But he sure hoped she was at least warm.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN JANE HAD asked Kyle to dinner, the idea had been to give the vision of a romance and of a new family every possible chance to flourish.
She couldn’t help thinking that 6:00 p.m. wasn’t the most romantic of times. The candle at their table by the window in La Maison Jaune remained unlit, and they were the only people in the place. But the available tables had been either six or eight-thirty, and eight-thirty would have been too late for Gabe.
Jane had dressed in a red silk wrap dress that showed off her figure, with a hint of cleavage and a split that revealed her thighs as she moved. Gratifyingly, Kyle hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. She was having a similar problem. His dark shirt and pants, dressier than his usual jeans and T-shirt but more relaxed than his mayoral suits, made him look lean and dark and delicious.
“I haven’t been to this place in years,” Kyle said as he scanned the menu. “But they used to be famous for their boeuf en croute.”
“Sounds good.” Jane fiddled with the base of her empty wineglass. Kyle had ordered a bottle of cabernet, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
In a moment of supreme bad timing—or maybe it was a family instinct she didn’t understand—he turned his head to look out the window. “Hey, there’s Dad.”
He pointed to Charles’s truck, passing the restaurant at snail’s pace behind a slow-moving delivery truck. “Who’s that with him?”
“Micki asked him for a ride into town,” Jane said. She felt bad not telling him the whole truth; she would have liked to prepare him for the shock...but as Micki had said, if the “blind date” didn’t work out, she didn’t want the humiliation of Kyle knowing she’d chased after his dad.
Kyle craned his neck to follow Charles’s progress. “Dad’s been jumpy lately, have you noticed?”
“Maybe because a Slater is back in town,” she joked.
He chuckled. “Either that, or retirement isn’t keeping him busy. He should take his own advice and find a nice woman to date.”
Jane considered that encourag
ing. “So you wouldn’t mind him dating?”
“Not at all.” He set down the menu and broke open his bread roll. “It’s not like he’s going to do anything stupid.”
Uh-oh. “Stupid?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Date some twenty-year-old who’s after his life savings.”
“That would be bad,” Jane said. Much worse than a thirty-seven-year-old with her own flourishing business.
“Dad’s too sensible for that,” Kyle assured her. “But maybe I should suggest he look around for someone.”
“Because you so appreciate when he takes an interest in your own love life.”
He chuckled. “It’d be sweet revenge. He never stops hounding me and Gabe to find someone. I don’t think he’s ever got over the fact that I’m divorced.”
The waitress arrived, so Jane waited until they’d ordered—a mixed appetizer platter, then boeuf en croute for him, fish baked with mushrooms for her—before she followed that up.
“It sounds like you’re taking the entire blame for the breakup with Lissa.”
He shrugged one shoulder.
“No one likes a martyr, Kyle,” she said.
He stared, then cracked a laugh. “Okay, it wasn’t all my fault by any stretch. But you can’t change someone else. You can only change what you do.”
“You tried,” she said. “I know, because you called me all those years ago when things started to go wrong. That can’t have been easy.”
“Things had been going bad a while before that,” he said. “Shouldn’t have been so damn hard to call you, either. I really was a pompous jerk back then. I’m sorry.”
She caught her breath. “Everyone makes mistakes. So, by the way, don’t let your dad get to you, because he makes them, too.”
“Dad doesn’t get to me, he just has high hopes for me and Gabe.”
“He and your mom must have been pleased when Gabe became a pastor,” Jane said. “You said he had a couple of slightly wild years.”