12-Alarm Cowboys

by Cora Seton

  Now, it was no longer an issue.

  “Are you really done with modeling?” Brandi asked.

  “Yeah.” Shayla lifted the baby girl to her shoulder to pat a man-worthy burp from the newborn. “You’re so darn tall, and slim, and beautiful.”

  “And your long, blonde hair is so shiny,” Kerri said, shifting in her seat. “A gorgeous combination with your blue eyes.”

  Jeez. They made her sound perfect. Lord knew, far from it. Although, for the past ten years, she’d made a living off of perfection, traveling to perfect places, eating the perfect cuisine, dating the perfect billionaire, rock star, movie star, or politician. Doing what she was told in front of the camera. Doing what she was told behind the camera. Smile. Don’t smile. Pout. Laugh. Smolder.

  God, how she hated smolder.

  And hated the lifestyle she had once loved. It had become too…fake. She had become too fake. She didn’t even know who the real Gwen was anymore. So, she’d left it behind. Walked away.

  “You look like a woman who has shut a door and turned a corner.” Jordan’s gaze was shrewd and sure.

  She lifted a shoulder and pursed her lips. “Guess you could say I’m at a crossroads, trying to figure out what the hell to do with the rest of my life. Which is tough, considering I have no real skills except smiling and posing. And, well, cooking, thanks to growing up working in my dad’s diner.”

  “Which I’m forever grateful.” Kerri grinned as she lightly touched Gwen’s arm. “Thanks, again, for dropping everything and coming down here to help me out.”

  She returned the woman’s smile. “It’s like I said, I was sort of in limbo anyway. It’s nice to have something to do.”

  In her attempt to move forward, Gwen discovered you couldn’t go back. After making amends with her family and ex-boyfriend, she realized her stay in the Poconos wouldn’t be permanent. Something was missing. A piece of her. Too bad she had no idea how to find it, or even where to look. But she knew she was on the right track in her quest to like herself again. Maybe, her time in Harland County would reveal another piece.

  The sound of men’s laughter drew her attention back to the bar and the tempting man she planned to avoid. Like the plague. And chain letters. The minute she’d laid eyes on Tanner last fall, she’d known he was six-foot plus of pure trouble, because he’d managed to make her do something she hadn’t in years.

  Feel.

  As if sensing her scrutiny, he stilled, then turned to stare straight at her. Gwen’s heart leapt in her chest.

  Dammit.

  Any last hope she’d had about their chemistry being a fluke dissipated, along with her breath.

  Still on the fence about his smokin’ hot, one night stand from Pennsylvania showing up out of the blue, Tanner Hathaway should’ve been thrilled to learn Gwen was actually in town to help out the McCall sisters, and not there looking to hunt him down.

  So, why the hell was he letting her parting remark eat at his gut?

  Get over yourself, cowboy. Our time between the sheets was good, but not that good.

  What the hell had she meant by not that good?

  It had been great. Hot and frenzied. Unexpectedly intense. And as he recalled, she’d enjoyed herself. Twice. He’d made her cry out two damn times during their brief visit to his hotel room.

  Yeah, okay, so he’d been a bit surprised to find her dressed and heading for the door when he’d emerged from taking care of the condom in the bathroom. Hell, he’d only just rolled off her gorgeous curves two minutes earlier. Truth was, he’d hoped to have the whole night with the hot woman, but wasn’t stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her leaving took care of him having to come up with some passable goodbye in the morning.

  He’d been relieved.

  Now, he was beginning to wonder if she’d split because he’d come up lacking, despite her two orgasms.

  He eyed the woman now seated with Holly, Brandi, and several other Harland County beauties. She fit right into that category, with her mesmerizing blue eyes, long legs, and sleek blonde hair that had felt so damn soft and silky when he’d cupped her head and plundered her mouth as he’d driven deep inside her.

  Shit. His zipper started to bite into his dick. Again.

  Damn woman and her flowery scent had spiked awareness straight to his groin when they’d spoken earlier. Standing there, taking her attitude, his body had remembered every bit of hers…and how it had hungered for more ever since that night back in PA.

  His gut clenched as a thought occurred. What if she’d faked it?

  No. No way in hell.

  Sure, she could’ve faked the screaming, but she sure as shit hadn’t faked her body quivering around him. No, she’d definitely climaxed, twice.

  So, what the hell more had she wanted?

  “Yo, earth to Tanner. What’s going on, man?” Harper, one of his guard buddies shoulder-checked him as they stood at the bar with a few friends.

  He blinked and refocused. “What’s up?”

  “Good question.” Doctor Jace Turner smiled.

  “Agreed,” Top, their First Sergeant, Kade Dalton, said into his beer.

  Well, his First Sergeant. Jace had resigned his commission to join Doctors Without Borders and was no longer in the Texas National Guard with them.

  Damn. That was going to take some getting used to. He and his buddy, Jesse Briscoe, who stood smirking behind the doc, had joined the guard a year after Jace.

  That was nine years ago.

  Doc cocked his head. “You keep making googly-eyes at the gorgeous blonde you disappeared with at Kade’s wedding last year. You two planning to pick up where you left off?”

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Tanner studied the woman whose gaze turned slightly apprehensive and possibly a little regretful when Jordan and Kerri’s mother and mother-in-law approached, gushing over Shayla’s baby girl.

  He couldn’t tell by her reaction if she wanted kids or detested them. The woman was five-foot-ten inches of gorgeous contradiction and puzzlement.

  He hated puzzles.

  Top stopped drinking to spare him a sideways glance before transferring his gaze to Gwen, then returned his attention to his beer. “Hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “And who,” Harper added. “That’s supermodel Gwen Gable. Man, the tabloids loved her, and her wild times. Bet they’ll miss her now that she’s retired. How the hell did you manage to land a beauty like that, Tanner?”

  “I didn’t land her, you ox,” he replied, facing his idiot friend. “We conversed, you know, something civilized people do. You should try it.”

  Harper snickered. “Conversed? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  He shook his head and reached for his beer. “Why do I bother?”

  “You still didn’t answer the question,” Jace reminded.

  Damn. He’d hoped the doc had forgotten the question.

  “She’s pretty, Tanner.” Barry Patterson, former fire chief and his mentor smiled as he cupped his shoulder. “You should go talk to her.”

  He already had, and it hadn’t gone so well. But, he wasn’t about to tell that to the man who was more like a father to him than a friend.

  Barry owned the ranch next door to the one Tanner had grown up on. Patterson Ranch had become a place of refuge and learning when his no-good-piece-of-shit uncle got drunk.

  From the day he’d been dropped off at the run-down ranch when his crack-head mother had overdosed when he was eight, Tanner had put up with the alcoholic’s bullshit and beatings, until he’d been sixteen, grew several inches, and a backbone, and swung back. By that time, he’d been in trouble with the law on several occasions, and had snuck over to the Patterson Ranch to take the man’s old Thunderbird out for a joyride.

  Barry had caught him red handed…after Tanner had crashed the car into the side of his barn. Instead of turning him in and pressing charges, though, the then fire chief had made him repair the barn, and the car, wor
king alongside him every step of the way.

  No one had ever given him the benefit of the doubt before. Or given him time. Barry Patterson had saved his life, not from a fire, or car wreck, or flood, but from himself, and the destructive path he’d been on since arriving in Harland County.

  “Oh, look, there’s Chief Tattersall,” Barry said, his attention suddenly transferred to Tanner’s supervisor at the fire station. “Excuse me, fellas.” He nodded to them and moseyed off.

  Once upon a time, Barry had been his supervisor. Hell, the man had been the reason he’d become a volunteer firefighter. He admired the hell out of the guy. Wanted to be like him. Wanted to make him proud.

  Nowadays, he just wanted to keep him safe.

  “How’s he doing?” Jesse slid closer, eyeing the retreating older man. “Seemed pretty lucid today.”

  Tanner nodded. “Yeah. Today’s a good day.”

  “Unfortunately, with Alzheimer’s, those days dwindle,” Jace proclaimed, sadness darkening his gaze. “They’re going to start to become few and far between.”

  They already had. Tanner steeled himself against the stab of pain that always accompanied that thought. He hated watching his friend fade away. Hated being helpless to stop it.

  Hated the possibility of his mentor forgetting him…

  “You’re doing a good thing, Tanner,” Kade said. “Barry’s lucky to have you.”

  Jace nodded. “You do know daily visits aren’t going to be enough. You never know when he’s going to slip, or for how long.”

  Tanner nodded. Yeah, he knew. He’d witnessed it more and more. The pain piercing his gut increased.

  “Have you given any thought into talking to him about a home?” Doc asked in a low voice full of concern.

  He blew out a breath, trying like hell to relieve the sharp throbbing suddenly pummeling from all sides. The thought of his friend, his helpless friend in a home, walking aimlessly through halls, not knowing a soul, just about killed Tanner.

  “He’s not that bad yet,” he said, okay, more like growled, but dammit, he was angry. Not at Jace, but at life.

  Barry was a great man. He’d saved countless lives, never giving a thought to his own safety. Year after year. Someone you could count on to help. Go to for help. Even if it had been just to lend an ear, as Tanner had sometimes needed after returning from deployment from the war. Barry never judged. Never lectured. He supported. Had your back. He didn’t desert, and dammit, Tanner would not desert the man in his hour of need.

  “There’s going to come a time when you’ll need to discuss it. Even if you moved in, you can’t be with him twenty-four-seven,” Jace said, shoving a card into Tanner’s shirt pocket before cupping his shoulder. “That’s the number of a good place here in the county. They have a compassionate staff. Locked doors. Constant supervision. I wouldn’t steer you wrong, you know that.”

  He nodded, even though the desire to remove the card and rip it into shreds shook through him.

  “I know you want to throw it out. But don’t,” the doc said, exuding a keenness he was known for. “Keep it in a drawer. Promise me, man.”

  Tanner clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times before he cleared his throat and nodded again. “Promise.”

  Son of a bitch. Now that meant he had to put the damn card in a drawer. He’d made another promise long ago—a promise to Barry to never welsh on his word.

  “Okay, so let’s get back to this Gwen thing,” Harper said, lifting his beer. “I still say Tanner needs to go converse with her.”

  Damn man was snickering.

  Ah, hell. So was Jace and Kade.

  The only one who hadn’t said anything about the woman yet was Jesse. His buddy peered at him from over the doc’s shoulder, but remained silent. He smirked—he smirked a lot—but didn’t say a damn word.

  Bastard.

  “From my understanding,” Kade began. “She’s only here for a few weeks. Just to fill in for Kerri.”

  He kept his mouth shut and nodded. The woman had already informed him, just…not quite as politely.

  “Well, since Kerri hasn’t had her baby yet, I’d say you have the possibility of stretching the conversation over a good twelve to fourteen weeks.” Jace winked.

  Good. That worked for him. He wanted another shot with the woman.

  ‘Not that good,’ my ass.

  He was going to make Gwen cry out a third time…or more.

  Gwen spent the next morning and half the afternoon cooking alongside Kerri at the Tex Pub, which was closed until four o’clock, learning the menu and how certain dishes were made. And swiftly becoming enamored. The brown-haired beauty was a bazillion months pregnant and running rings around her in the kitchen.

  Finally, after mastering ribs, Cajun sirloin, and a pot of chili, she was given a thumbs up by her temporary boss.

  “You’re a quick learner,” the woman said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “You have no idea how relieved I am to be able to leave my kitchen in the hands of someone as capable as you.”

  An unexpected burning stung Gwen’s eyes. She’d worked with plenty of people who’d appreciated what she could give them—mega magazine sales, clothing sales, car sales, even music downloads, which all translated into money—but this was the first time, in a long time, someone was genuinely happy to have her around for herself, to keep a place in order, running smoothly, not to bring in a boatload of cash.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, forcing the words from her hot throat. Stupid throat. “I’ll take good care of your kitchen and customers. I promise.”

  “I’m not worried.” Kerri smiled at her with confidence shining in her brown eyes as she pulled her in for a hug. “I know you will. Thank you.” The woman drew back and grimaced. “And now I need to go to the bathroom for what feels like the twelfth time in the past two hours. Dang baby must be napping on my bladder today. Excuse me.”

  After her boss disappeared into the dining room, Gwen moved over to the sink to finish washing the last pot. Maybe coming to Harland County was going to work out better than she’d thought. It was only the second day, and she’d already put a genuine smile on someone’s face without having to pose.

  Might seem like a small thing to most, but not to her. That was rather a big thing. Her own lips tugged into a smile as she hung up the dry pot, then went back to the sink to drain the water. If the glamour magazines could see her now, hair pulled back in a knot at the nape of her neck, no makeup, comfortable old NASCAR T-shirt and pair of cutoff shorts on legs she hadn’t shaved in two days…

  “Don’t you look right at home?”

  Gwen squeaked and spun around, clutching the sink behind her with one hand and her throat with the other as she faced her visitor. “Tanner,” she said, covering her pulse with her fingers in a foolish attempt to calm the rapid thumping. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  If she hadn’t recognized his deep, lazy tone, her body’s reaction to his presence was a dead giveaway. Damn goosebumps raced down her arms and spine in unison. What was up with that? He was the only man ever to cause her skin to bump up.

  “Sorry, darlin’. I assumed you’d heard me talking to Kerri before I came in.”

  “No, I was too busy putting away pots and pans to hear you over the noise,” she told him, then added, “Darlin’.”

  He chuckled as he stopped in front of her, one of the few men tall enough to make her need to tip her head to see his face. And what a handsome face it was, too. Strong cheekbones and jaw, all tanned and covered in a day’s growth of beard, dark lashes framing a brown gaze, warm…and heaven help her…heated.

  “W-well, what did you want?” Even though she wanted to bolt, her stubborn side refused to let her move.

  The right side of his mouth slowly tugged into a grin. “You always so testy?”

  “You always so pushy?”

  Now, the left side of his wicked mouth curved, too. “I’m not pushy,” he insisted, gripping the sink on either side of her, bringin
g his hard, muscled, black T-shirt and jean clad body to within a fragment of air from hers.

  Which was a problem. A serious problem. Especially, considering just the simple act of walking and his solid frame moving made her body itch to ditch her clothes.

  Not good.

  His nearness fogged her brain, and heated her from the inside out. Or was that a Texas thing? She wasn’t sure. Only that he was so deliciously damn close she could see the golden specs in his eyes melt into a deep, decadent caramel blazing hot enough to evaporate her composure.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered, wishing her stupid, stubborn side hadn’t butted in and she’d moved when she’d had the chance, because at the moment, she couldn’t feel her damn legs.

  “Testing a theory,” he replied, his words as slow and deliberate as his movements.

  And even though he’d given her plenty of time to push him away, she didn’t move a muscle. Just stood there, anticipating, and waiting for the sexy man to make a move. After several, long seconds, he leaned down and, oh God, she could feel the slightest brush of stubble against her neck as he slowly inhaled.

  “Damn, no one smells as good as you, Gwen.”

  He smelled pretty good, too. Damn good, and she could no more stop herself from inhaling his freshly showered, musky male scent than her eyes from crossing.

  “Not good my ass,” he muttered, drawing back to stare down into her face.

  She blinked, then smiled, her brain finally cluing in to what this was all about. “You’re sore about my remark yesterday.”

  “Damn right.” He lifted a hand to run his finger from her ear to her jaw, lingering just below her lower lip. “What we did in the Poconos was better than good.”

  True, and she even might have told him had she been able to draw air into her lungs.

  Ah, shoot. He’d set his other hand on her hip and lightly squeezed while he leaned in to brush her jaw with his lips.

  “Wasn’t it, Gwen?”

  Her body strained closer to his and quivered when he nibbled on her ear.