The Texas SEAL's Surprise--A Clean Romance

by Cari Lynn Webb

  Wes shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “This is a commercial enterprise, Abby.”

  “I know what it is.” She knew what he was to her too: a friend only. Perhaps if she reminded herself of that fact enough, her heart would stand down. And she’d stop stumbling over her misplaced feelings. “What it is is perfect for a movie night.”

  “No.” Wes’s voice was flat and entirely too inflexible. “This place is perfect for adults who like to drink too much, sing too loud and test their skills too many times on the mechanical bull.”

  “I forgot about the bull.” Abby rubbed her hands over her arms and rocked on her damp sandals. “The kids will love that.”

  “You’re not listening, Abby.” Wes tugged the dry towel he kept in his back pocket and ran it over her wet shoulders.

  “Neither are you.” Abby snatched the towel from Wes’s grip. His gentle touch distracted her. She had to keep herself centered only on what mattered. If that meant she remained rain-soaked and chilled, so be it. “I can’t disappoint these kids, Wes. The kids of the adults who like to come here and spend their hard-earned money to do all the things you just mentioned.”

  Wes crossed his arms over his chest again and settled into his closed-off stance.

  Abby leaned toward him, rose up on the balls of her feet to peer into the dining room. Then she leaned the other way to look into the bar. “Rain must have kept most of the out-of-towners away. You’re not too busy.”

  Wes remained silent and still.

  “Please.” Abby set her hand on his arm, ignored the jolt of warmth against her palm and the heat that pulled her closer to him. “Please, Wes. I won’t ask ever again.”

  “Is that a promise?” he asked.

  His voice was rough, from unreleased laughter or something else Abby wasn’t certain. She pulled back and set her hands on her hips. “I wouldn’t dare promise you anything. You’ve made your feelings more than clear about them.”

  Wes opened and closed his mouth, rubbed his fingers across his jaw as if working the right words free.

  Boone peered around Wes’s shoulder to greet Abby. A mood for mischief brightened his gaze. “Is your movie night coming indoors, then?”

  Abby frowned and hitched her thumb toward Wes. “If we can get past the big bad bouncer right here.”

  “We got a blank back wall in the dining room.” Boone tipped his hat to her and then rubbed his palms together. “Seems like just the right size for a movie screen.”

  “This isn’t a theater.” Wes’s voice deepened into a low rumble.

  “When you buy me out and own the Owl, you can make it whatever you want.” Boone slapped his hand on Wes’s shoulder. His words stiffened into a challenge. “Until then, it’s what I say it is. And tonight, it’s Abby’s call. If she wants the dining room to be a theater, then a theater it will become.”

  Abby spun around, hiding her victory smile, and waved everyone inside. “Movie will be showing in the dining room. The games will be to the right. Just give me a few minutes to get everything set up.”

  “Games.” Wes’s low voice was too close.

  Spine-tingling, nerve-awakening close. Abby swayed. He settled one hand on her waist. She opted for bubbly and upbeat, trying to override her suddenly racing pulse. “Don’t worry, everyone can play these games. I’m thinking horseshoes and pin the tail on the bull. Limbo, dance party chairs and dance hat on the dance floor.”

  Wes glanced at Boone. His steady grip on her waist never wavered. “I think she’s serious. I’m not running a carnival. It’s a bar.”

  “It’s also one night.” It was one night. Tomorrow she would remember her control. Tomorrow she would lock down her heart and rein in her feelings. Tonight, she gave in and faced him. Pressed a kiss on Wes’s cheek, lingered longer than she should have and discovered it wasn’t enough. She framed his face in her hands and kissed him. Quick and straight on. One press of her lips against his. The smallest of memory makers. More than she’d ever dared before. Or would dare again.

  She retreated and pulled the breathless catch from her words. “Thank you. I owe you.”

  Boone took over the transformation of the dining room into a suitable theater space. He directed the staff to move tables and pointed to the wall where he wanted several white tablecloths hung to create a movie screen.

  Abby greeted the incoming families and directed traffic. Wes returned to his position behind the bar as if he was completely content to stay there and observe for the rest of the evening. Abby preferred the distance. Needed it until she could completely collect herself.

  She’d kissed her friend. Kissed Wes. Crossed boundaries that never should’ve been breached. Now all she could think about was kissing Wes again. Only the real kind this time. Not a surprise ambush. But an embrace pursued by both parties.

  Abby shoved her damp hair over her shoulder and exhaled her frustration. She had games to organize and kids to entertain. Kissing Wes was not part of her job description. She stepped around a cornhole platform and grabbed one of the last tall round tables to be moved out of the way. The table didn’t budge, much like her growing attraction to Wes.

  Abby checked to make sure the table wasn’t bolted to the ground. No bolts. Her heart needed to be bolted in place. Only a thick steel post and legs made up the rest of the table, contributing to its considerable weight. Perhaps she should invest in steel-toe boots instead. Then maybe her feet would remain grounded. One fleeting, barely there kiss and she was already feeling herself being swept away. She grabbed the table like her personal anchor and yanked. It wouldn’t move.

  Behind her, an overblown sigh reached her from the bar. Abby ignored the sound and faced off with the table. As if it was to blame for her reckless behavior.

  Seconds later, Wes nudged her aside and clasped the table. “Where do you want this?”

  “I can do it.” She pushed at the table but couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was in deep, deep trouble now. And that spark in his gaze hinted that he knew it too. She lashed out at him. “Go pour your customers a drink. Or better yet a double shot of something for yourself, because I’m going to be here all night.”

  He wrestled the table out of her grasp. “Just tell me where you want this.”

  Abby set her hands on her hips and frowned. “I didn’t ask for your help, so don’t get short with me.”

  He laughed.

  Laughed! Galling man. She smiled, aware there was nothing sweet about her teeth-revealing grin. “Fine. I want it over there in the far corner. Thank you.”

  Even more infuriating, he carried the table to the exact spot she’d wanted without breaking a sweat or losing his breath. Entirely unfair. But now that she had him, she fully intended to make use of his strength. She held onto her grin and pointed at the second table. “This one needs to move too. It’s blocking the cornhole game.”

  He picked up the table and eyed her. He wasn’t breaking a sweat or gasping from the effort. But a fire burned in his gaze. Good. He frustrated her too. And they were far from even.

  He placed the table in the corner beside the other and returned to her. “Anything else?”

  Yes. One real kiss, if you please. She blinked and wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. Or kick herself. Anything to shake loose her fixation on Wes. Anything to save her from herself. “I need a long pole that can be used for limbo. And chairs lining the entire perimeter of the dance floor for dance party musical chairs.”

  “Is that all?” He tipped his head and considered her.

  Not even close. But you’re not ready, cowboy. And Abby had vowed not to let her heart play with fire again. After all, chemistry burned out, and it was what was left that mattered. That ensured a lifetime match. Sure, she wanted to experience a real kiss with Wes. But the risk wasn’t worth the fallout that would certainly follow. It was only an illusi
on. Otherwise, hearts had to be bartered, and love had to be trusted. And she’d vowed she’d never make that mistake again. She had more than her own heart to protect now. “Got any extra cowboy hats?”

  “Maybe.” His gaze simply remained on hers.

  “I’ll need those too.”

  He leaned toward her and whispered, “I know what you’re doing.”

  He couldn’t possibly know. Because Abby wasn’t certain herself. All she understood was that she couldn’t retreat. Couldn’t walk away. She closed the distance between them. As if the only direction was toward Wes. “What’s that, exactly?”

  “Distracting me.” He reached up and drew a curl between his fingers. The quickest of smiles curved across his mouth. There and gone. “But it won’t work.”

  “Are you sure?” Now she was entirely too distracted again. Her heartbeat rushed through her ears. Her lungs failed to fill. All because of this one man.

  He nodded. “I know everything that’s going on inside this place. From the kettle corn being popped in the kitchen to the hot-chocolate station being set up in the dining room to the tails being made for the mechanical bull.”

  Well, he didn’t know everything. He didn’t know all that was going on inside Abby. She exhaled her relief. Glad her feelings weren’t transparent. “It’s not all bad.”

  “It’s also not happening again.” He released her hair and brushed his hands together as if satisfied with his statement. “Family night, hosted by the Feisty Owl, will not be a recurring town event, so you can forget the idea right now.”

  But could Wes and Abby be a recurring thing? She opened her mouth.

  He cut her off. “One night. That’s all, Abby. You better enjoy it.”

  “Oh, I plan to.” And she planned to make sure he did too.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WES BLENDED ORANGE JUICE and lemonade, poured it into a small glass, then anchored several fruit slices to the rim. He set the kid-friendly concoction on the serving tray with the other four child-appropriate drinks. Abby’s laughter, a mix of lightness and joy, caught his attention. Again. Like it had been doing since she’d arrived earlier, completely drenched and completely compelling. Despite the crowd, searching for Abby wasn’t difficult. His gaze tracked to her like a compass always tracked north.

  She stood next to the mechanical bull and awarded prizes to the children gathered around her. He was fairly certain they hadn’t followed any rules for pin the tail on the bull. Bright-colored ribbons covered every inch of the mechanical bull from front to back and top to bottom, making it look like it had been attacked by a rainbow. And every child seemed to be getting a stuffed-animal prize. Hugs for everyone concluded the fun, and the kids raced back into the dining room to watch the movie.

  Abby drifted over to the dance floor where she’d set up a revised version of musical chairs for the teenagers and younger adults. Tess had taken over as the emcee. The enthusiastic and rowdy group had leveled up the childhood game into a good-natured competition. Abby blended right in, cheering for the chair-takers and consoling the ones who’d missed out each round.

  Abby hadn’t missed a beat since she’d charged into the Owl, demanding a venue change and Wes’s cooperation. Wes had been a step behind since she’d kissed him. He could’ve overlooked the blink-or-you’ll-miss-it kiss she’d placed on his cheek. That had been as light as a moth’s wings and just as fleeting.

  But then she’d pivoted. And that second kiss was impossible to ignore. All too brief like the first. But it had left an impression on him, like being branded. He was even more aware of Abby now. And he wasn’t at all certain what to do with that.

  Abby worked her way toward the bar, pausing to check on every guest. Her happiness more than infectious. Even Wes couldn’t restrain his own smile.

  Abby flattened her palms on the bar top and grinned at him. “You’re having fun. Don’t deny it.”

  He was having fun because of her. “It’s a busy, busy night, and these times are good for the bottom line. That makes me happy.”

  “You aren’t fooling me.” She accepted the ice water with extra lime and lemon he handed her, then shifted to survey the crowd. “I think the mechanical bull should stay just like that.”

  Wes wanted Abby to stay just as she was: glowing from a successful evening and radiating confidence. And he wanted to stay right where he was: beside her.

  One brief kiss had him bypassing everything he thought he’d wanted. Now it was time with Abby that he really wanted. He turned on the bar sink and washed his hands. As if his interest in Abby could be rinsed away with hot water and soap.

  Frieda and Gordon stepped up to the bar and greeted Abby. Gordon tipped his hat at Wes, then shifted to introduce Paul Molina, the mayor of Three Springs, to Abby. Both Frieda and Gordon slipped away to rejoin their grandkids and families.

  Abby set down her ice-water glass, wiped her fingers on a napkin, then shook Paul’s hand. “It’s nice to meet the mayor. I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

  Paul ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and studied the crowd. “It’s quite full in here. That’s a plus.”

  Abby’s smile wavered. The slightest wobble before she pressed more wattage into it. “There are a lot of families in town. They all seem to be having a good time.”

  “But it’s only one evening, isn’t it?” Paul ran his hand through his hair again and kept his gaze trained on the guests. “And not quite what the town council or myself were expecting.”

  Wes grabbed a towel to wipe down the bar top and moved himself closer to the mayor. It still wasn’t close enough to Abby.

  Paul Molina was a good guy. He still worked on his farm, had raised four kids and always listened to the people in the town. The Molina family also owned the former Stagecoach Inn. There were rumors of family disagreements, very heated ones, about what to do with the vacant inn and property. And even more gossip that the Molina family had fractured after the most recent argument. But that hardly gave him the leeway to tear down Abby’s accomplishment tonight.

  Besides, it was Wes who’d declared family fun at the Owl as one night only. Abby could replicate this. He was certain of it. Inside the Owl or out in the square like she’d originally intended.

  Wes glanced at the end of the bar. Sam and Boone had taken to their usual stools earlier. Yet their smiles and good cheer had been replaced by frowns. Both men kept their focus on the mayor.

  Paul glanced at Abby. The pensive edge to his words only sharpened his veiled criticism. “Family movie night really isn’t a conversation starter, is it? I believe we were clear that we required a conversation-starter kind of event.”

  Abby deflated. Just like that. The sparkle in her gaze dimmed. Her shoulders drooped.

  Wes clenched the towel. He had several conversation starters. Specifically, one about Abby and her spontaneous kiss. As for the mayor, he’d like to set Paul straight about a few things. That wouldn’t require a lengthy conversation. Only the mayor’s superb listening skills.

  “What if I recover the missing Herring Gang treasure?” Abby blurted.

  What if she created her own miracle? Proved the impossible? She was already enough. Just as she was. Surely the mayor could see that.

  “Recovering a centuries-old treasure would certainly be worth talking about, wouldn’t it?” The mayor rubbed his chin and nodded. “And those conversations just might be heard by more than the citizens of this fair town.”

  “It would certainly secure Three Springs’s place in history,” Abby added. “If there was a museum to showcase the treasure, tourists would come to see it...”

  Wes watched Abby. She was talking about the missing treasure, but her voice was too flat. Too remote. As if she recognized what she told the mayor was impossible. Impractical. And unlikely. She sounded like Wes, the cynic. He hated that. What had happened to her? Where was the ris
k-taking, daring woman who’d taken charge of the evening? He wanted her back. Wanted the upbeat, optimistic Abby he knew.

  “Do you believe in curses, Abby?” the mayor asked.

  “Do you?” she countered.

  The mayor stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels. “A lot of folks around here put stock in that missing treasure being cursed.”

  “Are you one of them?” Abby’s eyebrows knitted.

  Even Wes struggled to hide his confusion. Where was the mayor going now?

  “Could be that the entire town is cursed, not just the missing loot.” The mayor’s grin was more vacant than genuine. “Either way, I wouldn’t put all your chips on a curse or a missing treasure, Ms. James.”

  With that parting advice, Paul headed for the exit and disappeared into the rain-filled night. Abby escaped into the dining room before Wes could stop her. And he was left holding more drink orders from his wait staff and an insistent urge to make Abby feel better.

  The drink orders were finally slowing and Ilene was back behind the bar after watching most of the animated movie with her granddaughter, Riley, so Wes went in search of Abby. He found her leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over her chest and her gaze fixed on the movie screen. The mayor had been gone for more than thirty minutes, and Abby still hadn’t recovered her enthusiasm.

  Wes bumped his shoulder against hers and leaned against the wall. “You aren’t crying, are you?”

  Abby brushed at the corner of her eye. “Nothing wrong if I was.”

  There was something wrong if the mayor had caused her tears. And there was everything wrong about Wes’s reaction to her tears. He wanted to yell at whoever made her sad. He wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her. He wanted to make promises he had no right to give her.

  “It’s this movie.” Abby sniffed. “It gets me. There’s something about one sister sacrificing herself to save the other and getting turned into ice. It’s all about magic and family and love. And who wouldn’t want a talking snowman as their best friend?”