by Susan Stoker
“Pity about that.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, the widow dying like that.”
Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”
Dustin leaned in. “Eaten by her cats.”
“Ho. Glad I missed that one.”
“Well, they didn’t eat all of her.”
“There’s a mercy.”
Dustin grinned. “So what would you like?” He waved at the menu.
Charlie scanned it for a second, but needn’t have bothered. It was the same menu it had always been. “Burger and fries, I think.”
“Gotcha. Go ahead and take a table and we’ll get you going.”
The tables were all empty, so Charlie picked one facing the door. It was second nature, he supposed. Always on point. Granted, it was unlikely that a band of armed insurgents would come barreling into Bubba’s on a lazy afternoon, but lingering ghosts died hard. While he waited for his meal, he checked the messages on his cell phone—which didn’t take long—and then studied the people sitting at the bar, looking for more familiar faces. That didn’t take long either, because there weren’t many people imbibing at this hour.
His pulse kicked into gear when the door opened and a tall man stepped through it on a glare of sunshine. It was probably foolish to reach for his gun, but again, it was only instinct. His hand stilled halfway through the motion when his eyes adjusted and he realized who it was.
“Damn,” he muttered, loud enough for it to reverberate off the walls. “Cade Silver as I live and breathe!”
He hadn’t known Cade all that well growing up—even though their families hung out together a lot at BBQs and joint vacations—because Cade mostly kept to himself back then. But they’d met again overseas, two men dealing with a hellish reality, and they’d bonded then.
Cade glanced his way and a huge smile broke his stern demeanor. “Well, hell’s bells. Is that you, Charlie?”
In response he stood and shook Cade’s extended hand. And then they hugged—one of those macho man-hugs that were totally okay as long as they slapped each other on the back so hard it thumped.
“So good to see a familiar face,” Charlie said with a grin. “Even one as ugly as yours.”
“You’re one to talk,” Cade growled, but there was nothing menacing about it. “Look at that scar.” He waved at Charlie’s closely cropped scalp.
“Damn IEDs.”
“Don’t I know it.” Cade followed Charlie to his table, whipped a chair around and straddled it backwards. “Those were the worst.”
Yeah. The one that had clocked him had taken out half his platoon. He was lucky to be alive, but to this day, cursed himself for not taking point. Maybe he would have noticed the bomb before it was too late.
Dustin appeared with Charlie’s burger and glanced at Cade. “Can I get you anything?”
“A beer? Thanks.” They both watched as Dustin made his way back to the bar, then Cade said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”
“Just got in. Today’s my first day on duty.” He affected a solemn look. “Already caught one nefarious criminal.”
“Really?” Cade chuckled. There were no nefarious criminals in Snake Gully, if one wasn’t counting the Puceys, who owned the town. And they weren’t criminals so much as mean sons of bitches.
“Mmm hmm. Some hot-rod speeder. Wise-cracking blonde. Name of…Silver. Have you met her?”
Cade hooted. “No way. Are you serious?”
“Yup.”
“That must have ticked her off.”
“She wasn’t pleased to see me.” He forced a smile. Yeah. That still stuck in his craw.
“Serves her right. Claire’s always thought the normal rules don’t apply to her.”
“There’s a new sheriff in town.” Charlie waggled his brows.
“Well, welcome home. I’m damn glad to see you. Cody will be over the moon.”
“I miss our poker games.”
“Me too.”
“You should come over to the house. I’d love to introduce you to my fiancée.”
Charlie boggled. “Your what?”
Cade’s grin was huge. “Yup. I finally caught one.”
“Congratulations!” Damn. He was happy for his friend—Cade deserved to find love and, judging from his expression, he was in love. But it was a painful gut punch too, a reminder of a dream he’d had for a while, of a peaceful life, a doting wife, picket fences, fat babies and all that shit. “What’s her name?”
“Lisa Binder. You may remember her.”
“Oh yeah. Freckles.”
Cade blinked. “Freckles?”
“That’s what I used to call her in the third grade. She hated it.”
“I’ll have to remember that. But seriously. Come on by.”
“Yeah. About the ranch….” He shot Cade a curious look. “I drove by today and saw the sign had changed.”
“Right.” Cade blew out a breath. “When dad died, we almost lost the property. Cody had this harebrained idea—”
“Sounds like Cody.”
“To turn the ranch into a B&B.”
Charlie frowned. “Well, that doesn’t sound like Cody.”
“With strippers.”
“With…”
“Yeah. Strippers. We do parties on the weekend for horny housewives. Bring in male dancers from Dallas. Business is pretty damn good.”
“I can imagine.”
Cade eyed him up and down. “You should come dance for us. We’re looking for a new cop.”
The fuck. “You should see me pole dance. Pretty sad.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cade winked. “We don’t need no stinkin’ poles.”
Holy crap. This was as insane as it got. Who’da thunk—the last time he and Cade had shared a meal in a bivouac—that one day he’d be asking Charlie to strip for him? His buddies on the other side must be laughing their asses off.
At the reminder, his humor faded. “It really is nice to be home. Weird to be calling Snake Gully home, but there you have it.”
“I know. It can be tough coming back and adjusting to a normal life after everything we’ve been through. But it’s worth it. What you need is to find yourself a good woman to help you settle in.”
Why Cade’s sister popped into Charlie’s mind was a mystery. Or maybe not.
“There’s plenty of time for that, I suppose.”
“I suppose. Well, I’m damn glad to see you. What do you say, after you finish your burger, we head out to the ranch for dessert?”
“Dessert?”
Cade grinned. “My fiancée is a phenomenal baker.”
“Oooh. Excellent. Better keep hold of that one.”
“I plan to.”
“Because if she’s as good as you say she is, I might have to steal her.”
Cade laughed, some carefree chuckle that said more than words. No one was stealing his Lisa from him and he knew it.
It was so wrong to be jealous, but Charlie couldn’t help it.
He could only hope he would be as lucky in love.
But somehow, he doubted it.
Chapter Three
‡
The phone rang just as Claire and Porsche stepped into the foyer of the ranch house.
“Can someone get that?” Lisa called from the kitchen. “My hands are full.”
“Got it,” Claire responded as she lifted the receiver. “Hello?” Annoyance rippled through her as silence crackled on the other end. They got calls like this every now and again. Sometimes they were robocalls, sometimes Mildred Grace, who called to rail about the indecent goings-on at the Stud Ranch. And sometimes, it was just some heavy breather. “Helloooooo?” And yeah. She could hear him, vaguely, but there he was. Breathing. In and out. In and out. Too bad she didn’t have her whistle. She slammed the receiver back into the cradle with a snarl. “Bastard.”
“Who was it?” Porsche asked as they made their way into the kitchen.
Lisa, of course, repeated the question as
they stepped into the warm, redolent room. Mmm. Cookies.
“Him again.”
“Hmm?” Lisa glanced up from her batter. “Who?”
“The heavy breather.”
“Ooh,” Porsche cooed, snatching one of the snickerdoodles cooling on the rack. “You have a heavy breather? Lucky you.”
“Yeah. I feel so blessed.” Claire grabbed a cookie too. She loved Lisa and the way she was so good for Cade and all, but the real reason Claire was delighted her friend was joining the family was on the platter before her. It was awesome her brothers weren’t here to gobble all this up first.
“If he’s still calling, we should report him to the phone company,” Lisa said with a frown.
Claire shrugged. “It’s probably some old dude in town who doesn’t like what we’re doing here.” There were some in Snake Gully who objected to the clientele—and employees—they brought in on a regular basis. But none of those people had ever attended one of their parties. They’d certainly never met any of the dancers. They had no idea who they were or that most of them were decent men with real jobs and respectable lives and were just trying to make ends meet. And most of their customers were well-to-do wives and grandmothers who were just looking for a little excitement.
“I’ll talk to Cade about it,” Lisa said. “I don’t mind when everyone is here, but when I’m alone, it creeps me out.”
Yeah. It was creepy.
Claire peeped over the breakfast bar onto the counter where Lisa had created a post-apocalyptic landscape in flour and sugar. There was a dusting on her forehead as well. “What are you making?” Claire asked.
Lisa’s eyes lit up. “I’m experimenting with a new pâte à choux recipe.”
Pate what?” “I don’t know what that means.”
Lisa ginned. “It means éclairs and cream puffs.”
“Oooh. Well, don’t let me distract you.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Lisa quipped, licking her finger. She was always licking her finger, but since she was the ranch’s baker, it was probably a good sign. She resumed stirring, beating the batter as though it had misbehaved. “Hey, did you hear there is a new cop in town?” she said, apropos of nothing.
Claire’s heart lurched.
“New cop?” Porsche gave her a nudge, but Claire ignored her. She turned away and pretended to alphabetize the spice rack. Although she never would. Lisa would kill her if she touched anything. Not that she knew what most of those torture implements were even called. Claire was a disaster in the kitchen, even when she made a sandwich. Lisa had banned her more than once.
“Yeah. I hear he’s a real hottie. Ethel says he looks like the guy on that reality dating show. You know. The one with the cowboy?”
“I love that show,” Porsche said with an orgasmic expression, although, to be fair, that could have been the snickerdoodle.
Claire grimaced. “Can’t watch those shows. Too many smoochy kissing noises.” And it was annoying watching people in love. Especially given the field of contenders in this miserable burg.
“What?” Porsche squawked.
“You know what I mean. All those guys are sloppy kissers. Grosses me out.”
Lisa humphed. “Well, according to Ethel, he kind of looks like that guy.”
“Ethel is ninety if she’s a day. She has no business watching shows like that.” Or ogling the new sheriff.
Porsche chuckled and cocked her head. “Never too late.”
Claire glowered at the jibe. Porsche knew how sensitive she was about her approaching birthday and her dismal prospects. “Yeah. Yeah. It kind of is too late.” For Ethel at least. “Who knows what could happen if a woman of her years looks at a hot guy. Her ovaries might explode in a puff of dust.”
“Now, Claire.” Lisa wagged the spoon at her. “That’s not nice. We’ll be old one day too.”
Like in two weeks’ time.
“I can only pray that I won’t spend my latter years drooling over hot cowboy cops and farting dust bunnies.” It annoyed her that an image of Charlie Dunham flitted through her brain, but as hot cowboy cops went, he wasn’t bad.
“Well, there’s a visual for you.”
Claire rolled her eyes as her brother Cade’s deep voice wafted through the kitchen. Crap. Why did he have to walk in just now?
Oh and it got worse. When Claire spun around on her stool to skewer him with some pithy barb…he wasn’t alone.
Charlie was with him.
“Hey, honey,” Lisa said, presenting her cheek for Cade’s kiss. “I missed you.”
“Mmm. I missed you.” Cade grabbed a handful of cookies and passed one to his companion. “Lisa, this is my old friend Charlie. Charlie, Lisa.”
Lisa took in the uniform and waggled her brows. “You’re the new cop in town. We were just talking about you.”
His glazed flicked to Claire and burned. “Were you?”
Damn it. His voice was low and sultry and made something annoying shimmy through her bowels.
She thrust a thumb at Lisa. “She was.”
“Were you telling them about your latest ticket?” Cade asked. The jerk.
She glowered at Charlie. “You told him?”
“It’s hardly a state secret.”
“Wait. You got another ticket?” Lisa gaped at her. “And why didn’t you tell me you’d met Charlie? You just let me keep babbling on about how much he looks like that cowboy on TV.”
“What cowboy on TV?” Charlie asked.
“The cute one,” Porsche said in something of a drooly coo. Claire nearly whacked her.
She hated the way Charlie turned to Porsche. The way his gaze narrowed on her. The way his smile ticked up. “And who are you? I don’t think we’ve met.”
Damn. That seductive thread in his tone made her restless, and pissed. Because it was meant for Porsche. Not that she had anything to worry about. First of all, Porsche was hopelessly in love with Cody. And secondly, Claire wanted nothing to do with Charlie. He’d already humiliated her enough for one day.
“I’m Porsche McCoy.” More batting.
“McCoy? Are you related to Ford?”
“Ford is my brother.”
“Oh yeah. You have his eyes.”
Yuck. If it got any sticky-sweeter in here, she was going to need some insulin.
“So anyway,” she said, even though she had no idea what was coming next. She just needed to turn the topic away from Porsche’s eyes. She burbled the first thing out of her mouth. “That reality show. Wouldn’t it be fun to do something like that here?” Oh gawd. Where had that come from?
“That’s a great idea,” Porsche said. “Invite some of the local single guys and single girls. Bring them together. Have competitions for dates. How fun would that be?” This, of course, was directed at Charlie. And honestly. If Claire didn’t know better, she would think Porsche was banging out Morse code with those lashes.
“Um, right.” Cade shook his head. “And how exactly will that bring in more money?”
“It’s not always about money,” Porsche said. “Sometimes it’s about serving the community.”
Cade cracked a laugh. “Not in our business.”
“I have a better idea,” Lisa said in that über-perky tone she reserved for times when she had one of her “brilliant” ideas. Claire shuddered in advance. “You should go on one of those shows. You know. The dating shows.”
Claire gaped at her. Heat rose on her cheeks. It topped out at her ears when Charlie chuckled behind her.
“I don’t need a dating show to get a man.”
“Don’t you?” Cade asked. “Because I haven’t seen you dating much.”
How mortifying. The heat spread to her chest and prickled. “Have you seen the field of contenders? This is Snake Gully.”
“There’s always Derwood,” Lisa suggested on a snicker. Yeah. She could snicker. She was engaged.
“I try not to be picky, but I kind of like it when a guy I’m kissing has teeth.”
�
�Derwood has teeth,” Porsche insisted. “They just slip out sometimes.”
“How about Wayne?” Cade asked, referring to one of his buddies. There was nothing wrong with Wayne that a good bath and a strong dose of deodorant wouldn’t cure, but he hardly inflamed mad passion in her heart of hearts.
“Yeah. I’ll ask him when he finishes playing World of Warcraft.”
“Oh, he’s finished with that,” Porsche said.
“Yeah?” Yay.
“He’s into LARPing now.”
“Okay, what?” Charlie asked.
Porsche whirled on him and affected her most ingenious grin. “LARPing. Live Action Role Playing.”
Cade leaned in. “So when you see a horde of Huns frolicking in the park and storming the jungle gym on Saturday afternoon, you don’t need to call for backup.”
“Good to know.” Charlie’s lips kicked up and somehow snagged Claire’s attention. They were nice lips. But then, everything about him was attractive. He was tall and broad enough to make her feel small, which she really liked in a man, and he was handsome as hell. His features were flawless, with the exception of a scar tracking through his short-shorn hair and even that gave him an air of mystery.
Or not mystery. More like savagery.
She wondered where he’d gotten it, but it was probably impolite to ask. She wondered a lot of things about him all of a sudden. But if she showed any interest in him, her brother would pounce and God knew what kind of humiliating things he might say.
It was bad enough that they were openly discussing her love life—or lack thereof—in his presence.
Lisa, bless her, saved her. “So Charlie, what have you been up to since you left town?”
Claire pretended disinterest and studied Lisa’s actions as she stuffed the pâte à choux in a pastry bag and started piping it onto a baking sheet.
“He was in Iraq,” Cade said.
Her heart jerked. Damn. Cade had been in Iraq. It had nearly crushed his soul. She flicked a look at Charlie, but when she realized his gaze was on her, she quickly looked away.
“Yeah. Five years in the service was enough for me. I was an MP, so it made sense to go into law enforcement.”
“Good for you,” Lisa said.