“I should help you clean up from dinner,” Deena said.
“Don’t worry about that tonight.” Ricki shook her head. “I’ll take care of it after I drop you off and you’re tucked in.”
Deena had a sultry expression on her face as she said, “I could use someone to tuck me in.”
Ricki smiled. “You may just find your dream man in this town.”
“Men are worthless.” Deena snorted. “Finding a good one is as impossible as locating a needle in a haystack the size of Mt. Everest.”
Thoughts of Garrett came to Ricki’s mind. Her heart told her he was a good man, someone she could trust to tell her the truth and to treat her right.
She mentally shook her head. They’d had one date and already she was thinking about having a relationship with the man. Even though she tried to push the images aside, she could imagine spending time with him and getting to know him better. A lot better.
“Ricki?” Deena’s voice captured Ricki’s attention and she looked at the woman who was frowning. “You zoned out on me. Everything all right?”
“Sorry.” Ricki smiled and picked her keys and purse. “I guess I’m just a little tired. Time to get you back to your hotel.”
Deena’s smile looked forced. “All right. Let’s go.”
Chapter 8
Garrett had his phone on speaker as he drove his truck into Prescott from his ranch Wednesday morning.
“Thank you so very much, Mr. McBride.” Jan Tunstall sounded much happier than she had when she’d hired him for the job. She’d been devastated by what her ex had done. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have my heirloom jewelry back, more than anything else. It has all been handed down for generations and it means a lot. You are an exceptional man.”
Garrett steered his truck into town. “I was just doing my job, ma’am.”
“From the moment I hired you,” Jan said, “I knew you were the right man to get my jewelry and my share of the money back. Go ahead and run my credit card for the balance I owe.”
“I’ll get an invoice to you.” He turned down Gurley Street. “Once you take a look at it, you can pay.”
“Whatever works.” Jan had a smile in her voice. “Thank you again, Mr. McBride.”
When she disconnected the call, Garrett found himself parked in front of Sweet Things. He frowned. He’d had no intention of going to the bakery, yet here he was.
He looked in through the big plate glass window with “Sweet Things” painted in a curve from one side of the glass to the other with “bakery” beneath that. Near the door, in the lower left hand side of the window, the bakery’s address, phone number, and hours were also painted, but in small letters.
For a long moment, he sat in his truck and watched Ricki through the window. She was so pretty as she polished the glass cases until they shone. She looked happy as she worked, a smile on her lovely face. She wore jeans and a white blouse beneath a bright pink apron. She moved so that her back was to him and he got a great look at her backside. Damn, but she had a nice ass.
When he’d recovered Jan Tunstall’s jewelry, he’d compared it to the list he’d been given and everything had been there. When he’d picked up a beautiful antique heirloom wedding ring, he’d had a fleeting thought. He’d pictured a ring like that on Ricki—a ring that he’d just slipped on her finger. He dragged his hand down his face. Damn.
What was he doing here? He should turn the truck around and head to his office now.
Instead, he killed the engine then climbed out of his truck and locked it before heading to the bakery. Warm smells of baked pastries flowed over him and bells on the glass door jangled as he pushed it open.
Ricki looked up and a surprised expression crossed her features as she smiled at him. “Hi, Garrett.”
“Hey.” He made his way toward her. “How’s business today?”
“Good.” She had a spray bottle of cleaner in one hand, a rag in the other. “Have a bit of a lull right now, but it’s nice to get a break on a busy day.”
He had the sudden powerful urge to take her by her shoulders, draw her up close to him, and kiss her senseless. He had to remind himself that it was a bad idea. A real bad idea.
“I thought you’d be gone all week,” she said.
He shook his head. “Finished the job early.”
She moved around the counter so that the cases were now separating them, as if she needed to put distance between them. That was probably a good idea.
“The usual?” She started to open the case with the scones.
He shook his head. “I’ll try something different.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What, no blueberry scone?”
“Thought I’d shake things up a bit.” He found himself smiling and she responded instantly with a smile of her own. He gestured toward a different case. “How about one of those éclairs? Are they as good as they look?”
“Even better, if I do say so myself.” She laughed. “Anything else today?”
Yeah, you. She had to be the sweetest thing in the shop.
He shook his head to rattle the thought out and realized she thought he was shaking his head at her in answer to her question.
She took an éclair from the case with a piece of waxed paper, and slipped it into a bag. She folded the top and went to the register. “How about a cup of coffee? Fresh pot.”
He gave a nod. “You bet.”
After she filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee and put a lid on it, she set it on the counter next to the register and rang him up. She gave him the total and he handed her a bill large enough to cover the balance.
He took the bag and cup and glanced at the empty tables and chairs. He had the growing desire to stay and talk with her and found he didn’t want to leave. “I think I’ll eat this here.” He met her gaze then nodded toward a table. “If you’re not busy, would you like to take a load off your feet?”
Again she looked surprised. “All right. One moment while I get a cup of tea.”
He carried the bag and the coffee container to one of the small white tables and sat in a black chair with an ironwork back. A few moments later, Ricki carried a steaming mug to the table. A spoon handle was sticking out of the mug. She looked a little nervous as she seated herself across from him.
“You make a damned fine éclair,” he said after he swallowed a bite. “The only thing that comes close to anything you bake was my grandma’s chocolate chunk oatmeal cookie recipe. I can still remember what they tasted like, fresh out of the oven. Chewy and gooey.”
“It sounds good.” Ricki glanced at her cookie case. “That’s something I don’t bake here.”
“My grandma died some time ago.” Garrett felt an ache in his heart. “I miss her like hell. She always treated me like I was her favorite. She might have treated my brothers the same way but she always made me feel special.”
Ricki nodded. “I miss my grandma, too. She taught me a lot about baking.”
“Madge reminds me a lot of my grandma.” Garrett gave a wry smile. “They have the same feisty nature.”
Ricki laughed, a pretty sound that he liked. “Madge is feisty, that’s for sure. I hope I’m that dynamic when I’m her age.”
“She’s one woman you don’t want to get on the wrong side of,” Garrett said. “She called me to get my version of our date.”
“Oh?” Ricki sounded a little nervous.
Garrett held back a smile. Ricki looked so damned cute. “I told Madge that I couldn’t have asked for a better blind date.”
He liked watching how her cheeks turned a light pink. “I’m glad you think so,” she said.
“And you?” He couldn’t help asking.
“I enjoyed it.” She smiled. “A lot more than I thought I would.” As he took another bite of his éclair, Ricki changed the subject. “Do you go all over the state as a private investigator?”
He set down his éclair. “Most of my cases are in Coconino and Yavapai counties, but some go further out. I c
hase leads where they take me. If they’re too far out, I have other investigators in the business I work with.”
“So what kind of case were you on this week?” she asked as he took another bite of his éclair. “If you don’t mind telling me.”
He chewed and swallowed. “A woman’s soon-to-be-ex ran off with her jewelry and all of their money so she hired me. It was my job to make sure she got it back.”
When it came to helping a woman, he was more than determined to complete the job. He couldn’t stand to see a man walk all over a woman like his father had trampled on Garrett’s mother.
Ricki put both her hands around her mug as if warming them. “Being a private investigator must be rewarding.”
Garrett thought about it a moment. The relief in Jan Tunstall’s voice had given him a good feeling but that wasn’t always the case. “Sometimes.”
Ricki tilted her head to the side. “Why just sometimes?”
“My job deals with a lot of negativity,” he said. “My cases involve theft, missing persons, cheating spouses, unsolved crimes, criminal background checks, among other things.”
She studied him thoughtfully. “Don’t you feel good about a case when it’s finished?”
“Having to tell a client that his or her spouse is cheating is not what you’d call rewarding.” He shook his head. “Finding that a missing person is dead or has been murdered is probably the worst.”
“Oh.” Ricki frowned. “I didn’t think about that. Your job sounds similar to what mine was as a paralegal. You often see the worst of humanity.”
“Yep.” He took another bite of éclair.
“I imagine being a PI must be stressful,” she said.
He swallowed his bite, then chased it down with coffee before answering her. “It’s a job and something I’ve been good at since I was a kid.”
“Since you were a kid?” she repeated. “You started solving mysteries when you were young, like the Hardy Boys?”
“Not exactly,” Garrett said with amusement. “Missing or stolen objects were my specialty.”
His amusement shifted to anger that he made sure he didn’t show on his expression. Finding things was not the only thing he’d done. He’d also begun spying on Butch, his birth father. Garrett’s investigative skills had come in handy when the bastard had cheated on Garrett’s mother and on one of the many times Butch had beaten Garrett’s younger brother, Reese. All it took was a little spying and his father’s old camera.
“There’s something else,” she said, her intuition surprising him.
Rather than responding to her statement, Garrett gave a nod toward the glass cases filled with bakery items. “I’d say that your job is likely rewarding.”
She smiled. He loved her smile—it made the world seem somehow brighter.
“It is.” She took a packet of raw sugar from a container to the right, tore off an end and poured the contents into her cup before stirring it with the spoon. “As long as my baked goods are up to par, what I do makes people happy.”
“Your baked goods are above par,” he said and meant it. “This éclair is damn—I’m sorry, darned good.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks turned a little pink at the compliment. “Lettie helps so much. She’s truly a find.”
Garrett wiped his fingers on a napkin as he finished the éclair. “I forgot to get your number when we were out.” He’d been too intent on kissing her and had nearly lost his head. She told him what her number was and he gave a nod. “I’ll call you before Sunday.”
Bells jangled at the door and both Ricki and Garrett glanced in that direction. Deena walked in. She looked at them both as they rose from their seats.
“Hi, Deena,” Ricki said.
“Good morning, Ms. Samson,” Garrett drawled.
Deena’s smile looked forced. “Good morning.”
Garrett looked at Ricki as he picked up the Styrofoam cup that still contained coffee. “Thanks for the éclair and the company.”
Ricki had already picked up the used napkin along with her mug and the empty sugar packet. “See you later.”
Garrett touched the brim of his hat and nodded to Ricki then Deena before heading out the front door.
Smiling, he made his way to his truck and after unlocking it he climbed in. He was glad he’d ended up on autopilot and at the bakery and had gotten a chance to spend time with her.
As he turned the key and started the big engine, he looked through the window at the odd woman and Ricki and his smile turned into a frown. He studied them for a moment. They were so different…Ricki with her soft curves and pleasing personality versus Deena who had nothing soft about her. Her personality seemed to be sharp and rigid, much like her looks.
Everything about Deena Samson gnawed at him. His gut was telling him that something was off about the woman, and his gut instincts were almost always right. Maybe it just had something to do with their first meeting and the way she’d reacted to meeting Garrett. For all he knew, the woman could be a man hater.
He backed the truck out and headed toward his office on Union Street. His thoughts seemed to zero in on Ricki and their conversation. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he couldn’t seem to keep himself away from her. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was attracted to her more than any woman he’d ever met.
But that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t a damned bit good for her.
Chapter 9
The moment Garrett walked out the front door, Deena grinned with excitement on her face. “I’m renting a house in your neighborhood,” she told Ricki. “The one with the nice yard.”
“Wow.” Ricki’s eyes widened. “That was fast. We just looked at it three days ago.”
“I can’t stand that hotel any longer, so I already put a deposit on the rental.” Deena clasped her hands together. “I’m paying with cash so I’ll be able to move in by next week.”
“That’s great.” Ricki smiled, delighted to have a friend moving into her neighborhood. “Congratulations.” Maybe Deena could be someone who would watch over her house and check on Xena when Ricki had to go out of town.
Well, on second thought, that wasn’t likely to work considering Deena and Xena didn’t seem to like each other. She wondered why that was.
“It’s really a lovely house inside,” Deena was saying. She slipped her purse off her shoulder and set it on one of the tables along the window. “It could use a little brightening, but it works. I can’t wait to show it to you.”
“Looking forward to seeing the inside,” Ricki said. “I’m glad you found a place you really like.”
Deena pushed her fingers through her short spiky hair. “I’ve had some of my things in storage, so I’ll move in as soon as the landlord is ready. I didn’t bring a lot here, so it won’t take me too long.”
Ricki moved around the cases to get the polishing rag. “Do you need help moving in?”
“I’d love that.” Deena beamed. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Ricki walked back to the table she and Garrett had been sitting at and wiped it down.
“When do you get off work?” Deena asked. “We could celebrate.”
Ricki smiled. “I have some things to take care of at home tonight. How about drinks at Nectars after I close the shop?”
With a nod, Deena said, “That sounds great.”
When Ricki was behind the cases again, she started organizing the pastries. After the bakery closed, Lettie would take the day-olds to the women’s crisis center and to the police station, depending on how much was left over.
As she made everything look attractive, Ricki asked Deena, “Can I get you anything?”
Deena studied the cases. “I’ll take two Easter cookies.” She glanced at the beverage center. “And how about an iced tea?”
“Coming right up.” Ricki selected two of the egg-shaped Easter cookies frosted with yellow, white, pink, and blue icing. She put them in a bag and set them on the counter before
filling a plastic cup with ice and tea. She handed the tea and cookies to Deena over the case. “On the house, in celebration of you finding a place to live.”
“Thank you.” Deena smiled as she took the bag and the cup. “You’re a sweetheart.” She looked around the bakery, her chest rising as she breathed deeply. “This place always smells so wonderful.” She returned her gaze to Ricki’s. “I don’t suppose you have a job opening? I’m looking for work.”
“Sorry, no openings.” Ricki shook her head. “I have two employees, Lettie and Poncho. You won’t see Poncho around because he does most of the baking between midnight and six, then Lettie comes in around five.”
“That’s early,” Deena said. “Is Lettie working out okay?”
“I don’t know what I’d do without her,” Ricki said, and meant it. “Or Poncho, for that matter.”
Deena nodded. “I’ve been searching the job ads online but I haven’t run across anything where I can utilize my skills.”
Ricki tilted her head to the side. “What are they?”
Deena shrugged. “Managerial.”
Ricki took the polishing rag and wiped down the cash register. “If you’re in management, why would you want to work in a bakery?”
“Why would a paralegal want to own a bakery?” Deena’s snippy tone caused Ricki to blink. “I’m sorry.” Deena sighed. “You’re so happy here and working for you would be fun. I’m just frustrated with job hunting, and working with a friend would be great.”
Ricki didn’t remember telling Deena she’d been a paralegal, but she nodded. “It is nice having a job or career where you enjoy the people you work with.”
The front door opened, bells jangling with merry abandon as an unfamiliar couple walked through the door.
Playing With You Page 6