Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  She gripped her son’s hand, and when she reached Gabe, she took his, too, and pulled his arm around her shoulders in what he suspected was a deliberate message to Tom. He wasn’t about to complain, but the way her body vibrated with tension ignited his temper, and he almost turned around to confront the rancher. But it wasn’t his job to fight her battles for her, and she was the kind of woman to resent it if he tried, so he only tightened his arm around her to let her know he supported her. He wouldn’t say anything.

  For now.

  He held the door open for her and Cody and walked them to her truck. At Cody’s request, he helped the little boy get buckled in, then gave him a big hug.

  “You be a good boy for your mama. See you tomorrow, squirt.”

  “But tomorrow’s Monday.”

  “I’ll be out to the ranch after work to finish the wiring since I didn’t get to it today.”

  “Oh. See you tomorrow, then.”

  Gabe kissed the top of the kid’s head, then walked around to the driver’s side. Annemarie leaned against the door, waiting for him with her head tilted and expectant smile lifting one corner of her mouth. God damn, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do a lot more than that, but with her son sitting just a few feet away and watching them intently, he tightened the reins on his urges and settled for slipping his hand along her jaw. With his fingers curled around the side of her neck, he brushed his thumb over her cheek and drew her toward him. It wasn’t fair to tease her, but he lowered his head like he was going to press his lips to hers, shifting his head to the side at the last second to kiss her cheek instead. Her grunt of disappointment was oddly satisfying.

  “How long are you going to make me wait until you kiss me properly?” she asked huskily, staring into his eyes with an intoxicating fire burning in their blue depths.

  “Don’t know. I’m kinda winging this.” He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on top of her head, and let out a sigh of relief as the tension from their encounter with Tom ebbed at last. “We need to do this again. Soon. But next time, I’ll try to pick a restaurant where we hopefully won’t be interrupted.”

  “That did cast a bit of a shadow over our evening,” she agreed. “But I still had a wonderful time, and I know Cody did, too.”

  He gave her one last squeeze before releasing her so she could get in her truck. She rolled the window down and started the engine.

  “Goodnight, Annie. Drive safe.”

  “I’ll call you when we get home so you don’t spend all night worrying.”

  He hadn’t wanted to ask, unsure if she was ready yet to have him worrying about her, so he was glad he didn’t need to. Chuckling, he remarked, “I never used to be so transparent.”

  “Transparent isn’t a bad thing to be,” she replied. “Makes you easy to trust. Goodnight, Gabe.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Nodding, she put her truck in reverse and backed out of her spot. He stepped over to his truck and, with his hand on the door handle, watched until her taillights disappeared around the block. Exhaling, he slid in behind the steering wheel and started the engine. As he drove home to his house on the southeastern edge of Cody, he laughed.

  Delia was right. He was a goner.

  Chapter 9

  Annemarie sat on the edge of one of the dining room chairs chewing on her bottom lip while she watched the dim, wavering glow coming from the open trap door to the basement—the only light in her pitch-black house. She’d put Cody to bed two hours ago, and it hadn’t been easy. He’d wanted to stay up to see the lights come on when Gabe turned the power back on, as if they would look any different simply because they were running on new, up-to-code wiring. His weariness had won out in the end, and after Gabe had helped her tuck him in, she had been relieved when he drifted off within minutes. They had a long day in the truck ahead of them tomorrow, and Cody wasn’t fond of snoozing on the road, too afraid he might miss something exciting.

  Suddenly, light flooded the dining room from the new wrought-iron chandelier Gabe had installed only an hour ago, blinding her dark-accustomed eyes. Moments later, she heard the door on the shiny new breaker panel close.

  Gabe climbed out of the musty basement grinning. “That’s it. You’re officially running on your brand-spankin’-new wiring.”

  “Completely?”

  “One hundred percent. I still have some holes to patch for you, which’ll have to wait until we get back from Torrington, but otherwise, you’re good to go.”

  “No more tripped breakers, melted outlets, or bulbs burning out after a week?”

  “Nope. Go ahead and try it. Run the microwave and turn the oven on.”

  “At the same time?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, at the same time.”

  She did, and the breaker didn’t trip. Five minutes she waited for it to happen, but it didn’t, and she almost squealed her delight. She threw her arms around Gabe’s neck, laughing when he locked his arms around her waist and hoisted her off her feet. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m going to be doing your books for weeks yet to pay you back for this.”

  “Mmm. I’d tell you we’re even, but I’m looking forward to having an excuse to come see you.”

  She buried her face against the curve of his neck and let out a tiny squeak as relief and joy and desire and a dozen other wonderful emotions consumed her.

  Realizing his skin was slightly damp and gritty, she leaned back in his arms. He hadn’t set her down yet. “You probably want a hot shower right about now, and here I am keeping you from it.”

  “A shower would be great,” he said. “But this is nice, too. Unless you’re trying to tell me I stink.”

  “No… not really.” She couldn’t quite describe it, but stink wasn’t the right word. The mustiness of her basement clung to him, but beneath that was a subtle, not unpleasant scent. He smelled… male. “But we do have an early wake-up call, and I’m sure you’re exhausted. Between your other jobs and finishing up here tonight, you must’ve put in close to eighteen hours today.”

  “Pretty—” He yawned. “—close.”

  “Go take your shower.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  While Gabe was in the bathroom, Annemarie made a quick bedtime snack for them, turned off the lights in the dining room and kitchen, and changed into her pajamas, then sat on the couch with her feet tucked under her to watch the flames dance behind the glass door of the wood stove. She’d been too afraid to try lighting a fire in it, certain a bird or some other critter had made a nest in the stovepipe, but Gabe had cleaned both out yesterday, and she added it to the long list of things she was grateful to him for. He had done so much for her in the short time she’d known him that she could keep his books for the rest of his career and never come close to paying him back. It wasn’t any single task or even the sum of them all.

  It was the peace of mind. It was the hope that she might actually be able to make this life work.

  For the first time since a positive pregnancy test had shattered all her carefully organized plans for her future and forced her down a road she hadn’t seen coming, she believed she might find real happiness again.

  Gabe stepped out of the bathroom wearing flannel pajama pants of a sky-blue and black plaid that brought out the contrast of his dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She was disappointed that he also wore a plain white T-shirt. She’d been hoping for a repeat of Sunday afternoon so she could have a chance to fully appreciate him without Tom’s intrusion to distract her.

  An absurd thought struck her, but it became less off-the-wall when she recalled the day she’d met him and how he’d asked her to turn around while he stripped out of his stained T-shirt and changed into his button-up work shirt.

  “Gabriel Collins, you aren’t shy… are you?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “But… why?”

  He shrugged and grabbed his sleeping bag, pillow, and t
he rolled-up memory foam. “I’m going to blame my brothers.”

  She helped him unroll the narrow foam in front of the couch. “Did they tease you?”

  “Mercilessly. They thought it was funny how long it took me to shed the baby fat.”

  “You were a chunk? I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, I was until about twelve or so, and then the growth spurts started, and I couldn’t add weight and muscle fast enough. Guess I never outgrew the self-consciousness.”

  She tried to picture it but couldn’t. Maybe she’d ask his mother for pictures the next time she visited the family ranch. “I’m afraid of what Cody’s going to go through when he hits that stage because he’s already such a slender kid.”

  “Maybe he’ll get lucky and take the slow and steady route. How tall do you think he’ll be?”

  “I’m guessing he’ll reach an inch or two over six feet.”

  He glanced at her with his brows lifted and a teasing glint in his eyes. “You think he’ll be that tall, huh?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “The boys in my family get all the height. Dad is six-one, and Robert is six-two, while I barely managed to reach five-five.”

  “Poor you.”

  “The only time you’ll hear me complain might be when I need something on the top shelf.”

  He sat on the couch beside her to lay his sleeping bag out on the foam pad, pausing for a moment with his elbows braced on his knees and barely enough energy left to lift his head. After scrubbing his hands over his face and through his damp hair, he finished getting his bed ready but made no move to get into it. She rubbed her hand across his back, and he turned his head toward her, smiling tiredly.

  “That feels good,” he mumbled.

  “Why don’t you take your shirt off and lie down, and I’ll give you a proper back rub.”

  “We’ve been on one date and you’re already trying to get me out of my clothes?”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve already seen you pretty much naked with nothing more than a cartoon starfish to preserve your modesty. And you didn’t seem to have a problem strutting out of the bathroom when Tom showed up.”

  “First of all, I didn’t strut. Secondly, that was different.”

  “How so?”

  “I had to make sure you were all right. The distress in your voice….” He shook his head, frowning. “I don’t like it when you’re upset. It does strange things to me.”

  Annemarie didn’t know how to respond to that, so she smoothed her hand over his back and shoulders again and stared into the fire.

  “Mind if I grab a glass of water?” he asked.

  “Help yourself.”

  Hands on his knees, he pushed himself off the couch, and her eyes followed him into the kitchen. Would she ever get tired of watching him? Highly unlikely. Glancing over his bed for the night as she sat beside it to wait for him, she asked, “Wouldn’t a blow-up mattress have been more comfortable?”

  “The only ones I’ve ever tried to sleep on weren’t long enough, and I spent the night either scrunched up or with my feet hanging over the end,” he replied, striding into the kitchen. “Didn’t get much sleep. Believe me, shorty, the foam is way more comfortable. Try it.”

  “Shorty? Gee, thanks.” She stretched out on his makeshift bed. With the sleeping bag laid over it, it was more comfortable than her springy old mattress. “Okay, you’re right. It’s better than my bed. Wanna trade? Or, better yet, can I join you down here?”

  “Tempting.”

  “But you’re not going to let me.”

  “I need to get some sleep, Annie, so I don’t run us off the road tomorrow.”

  She sat up and stuck her bottom lip out in a mock pout, and he nearly choked on his water. He set the empty glass in the sink and wandered back into the living room, dragging his T-shirt over his head with an adorable reluctance. It was possible that his remark about his brothers teasing him might have been exaggerated, but he was shy about his body.

  Foolish man.

  “Would you quit looking at me like that?” he muttered.

  “Why? You’re incredibly sexy, Gabe, and you should be proud of that. I imagine it took a lot of hard work to get that way and even more to maintain it.”

  With a grunt, he lowered himself to the floor and slid into his sleeping bag. She twirled her finger in the air and pointed to his pillow. He lay on his stomach, crossed his arms, and rested his head on them, eying her. She leaned over him, sliding her hands over the tense muscles of his back, and within seconds, his eyes drifted closed and he began to relax.

  Tom hadn’t ever let her touch him like this, without the assumption that sex would follow, and she realized now that it had prevented a genuine sense of togetherness.

  She started to chastise herself for letting him intrude, but the comparison helped her disconnect him from sensuality, and she needed that. As she stroked her hands over Gabe’s back, shoulders, and arms, delighting in the contours of muscle and the way they slackened beneath her persistent kneading, she admitted that being able to touch him knowing it wouldn’t lead to sex was freeing. It introduced a different level of intimacy that had been entirely missing with Tom.

  “How’s that?” she whispered.

  “Mmm. Marvelous,” he slurred.

  Suddenly, she remembered something she needed to tell him, but she hesitated, disinclined to drag him back to full consciousness. She sighed. It would be better to get it out now before he was more asleep than awake. “I forgot to tell you. Jim’ll be here at three-thirty to help you load the cows.”

  “He doesn’t need to do that.” His brows furrowed, and he opened one eye. “You and I can manage.”

  “Trust me. You’ll be glad to have him helping you instead of me. And this way I’ll be able to get all our bags loaded and hopefully get Cody to go back to sleep in the truck.”

  “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Annie.”

  Because he’d try to convince her otherwise if she disagreed, she said, “Probably not. Close your eyes.”

  He was exhausted enough to obey. With a sigh, the tension that had momentarily returned to his body eased again.

  She continued her ministrations and let the heat of his skin and the play of golden firelight and cool shadow steal her focus until there wasn’t anything left in her head but him. His breathing slowed and deepened, and when she whispered his name, he didn’t respond. Tilting her head, she ran her fingers through his hair and watched him sleep for a while.

  She’d been wrong to think Tom might have been her first love. He was her first something but not her first love. She didn’t know if Gabe would be, but the strange wonder that filled her hinted that he might be. To think that she was just now, at almost twenty-five, discovering that she’d never fallen in love was silly.

  Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she wasn’t as sullied as she’d claimed when Gabe had told her on their date that he wanted to treat her like a lady. There might be some innocence left in her that hadn’t crashed and burned in the sharp turn her life had taken.

  Clinging to that thought, she pressed her lips to Gabe’s cheek, and tiptoed into her bedroom, leaving the door open. She had no need for privacy from the man who had already done so much to repair her heart.

  Chapter 10

  A short five hours later at 3:00 AM sharp, Gabe groaned and reached for his battery-powered alarm clock, fumbling until he found the button on top that would make the obnoxious chirping stop. He rolled onto his stomach and propped up on his elbows with his forehead resting on his arms for a moment, wishing he could rewind to right before he’d fallen asleep. He allowed himself several minutes to recall the soothing touch of Annemarie’s hands. He never would’ve imagined that her hands, so fine and soft, could be so strong and confident. The unexpected massage had been a wonderful, much appreciated end to a long day.

  With another low groan, he forced his mind elsewhere. Thinking like that wasn’t a good idea right now. Not with the wom
an at the center of his attention likely waking up. And not after the way she’d looked at him last night.

  Besides, he had less than half an hour until Jim showed up to help him load cattle.

  A curious energy built as he lay there, and the promise of spending the next five days with her and Cody—not just a handful of hours, but every waking minute—spurred him to get up. He dragged himself out of his sleeping bag and tiptoed across the dark house to the bathroom, closing the door before he turned on the light.

  He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and ran his hand over the rough stubble. He needed a shave, but they were on a tight schedule. It’d have to wait until they got settled at the hotel this afternoon.

  It took him less than ten minutes to complete his morning routine—minus the shave—but since he’d given himself a few minutes to wake up, he was running behind schedule.

  He wasn’t the only one. When he stepped out the bathroom, the house was still dark, and there was no movement from Annie’s room. He grabbed his T-shirt from the couch cushion where she’d left it neatly folded and started to pull it on, then tossed it over his shoulder instead. She seemed to enjoy the view, so who was he to deny her?

  He knocked on her door, mildly surprised she’d left it open.

  “Is it three already?” she mumbled.

  “Quarter after.”

  “Frick. Would you turn on the light?”

  He found the switch just inside the door with no trouble; he ought to know where it was, considering that he’d put it there. Light flooded the room, and she blinked against its sudden brightness for a few seconds before reaching for her alarm clock. From across the room, he couldn’t read the small clock—identical to his—but it didn’t look like the second hand was moving.

  “Battery’s dead. Good thing you set yours,” she muttered, swinging her legs out of bed. Turning to him, her face split in a grin. “Well, hello there. You’re not dressed.”