That Night in Texas

by Eve Gaddy

  He went to the living room and turned on the TV to the History Channel, hoping to find a show that would take his mind off Lana.

  She came back wearing jeans and a T-shirt and towel-drying her hair. “Why don’t we eat something here instead of going out? My little disaster took up a lot of time. What are you watching?”

  “History Channel. I’m a junkie.” He flipped off the TV. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

  “Seems like the least I can do since you’re going to fix my washer.”

  He studied her for a moment. Was Lana asking him to stay and have dinner as big a deal as he thought it was? It must mean she trusted him, at least a little. “Okay, you cook, but you have to let me help.”

  “You’re on.”

  WHAT HAD possessed her to ask Gabe to stay? It would have been a lot less personal to go to a restaurant with him. But once again, she felt guilty because he’d been so nice, not only stopping the flood but offering to fix the stupid washer. So she’d gone with the impulse. And now… She glanced at him, trying not to stare. The only half-naked men Lana had been around in the past year or more had been patients.And that was totally different from having a bare-chested, extremely masculine guy standing in her kitchen.

  A man who’d called her beautiful. And the look in his eyes had definitely been appreciative. It would have been the perfect time to flirt a little, and see what happened. But she hadn’t done it. Instead she’d pretended like he’d never said a thing.

  Still, she wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with Gabe. No, she was more… She let her gaze drift over the chest in question. Appreciative. He had a nice chest, with lots of hard, rippling muscles. A really nice chest. And a scar on his side that looked like—

  “Lana?” Startled, she jerked her gaze up to his face. “What can I do?”

  She stared at him blankly for a minute. He’s talking about cooking, you idiot. “Is stir-fry all right?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Why don’t you chop some vegetables, then. Here, take a seat at the table and I’ll bring them to you.” She pulled a couple of peppers, an onion, some broccoli and mushrooms out of the refrigerator and put them on the table along with a cutting board and knife.

  She tried to think of a polite way to ask him about his scar, but she couldn’t. “When were you shot?”

  He looked at her, then at his side. “I’d ask how you knew but I guess when you were a trauma doc you saw a lot of gunshot wounds.”

  “I worked in an E.R. in Los Angeles. Saturday night knife and gun club.” Knives. As always when she thought of knives, she repressed a shudder. Even now, two years later, the image was still vivid. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She took out some chicken, sat beside him and began slicing the meat.

  “I don’t mind. It happened about six or eight months ago. I got in the way of an abusive husband and his wife.” He seeded the pepper, then started cutting it into strips.

  “He shot you? Were you involved with her?”

  He laughed. “Not me, Cam. The woman was Delilah, Cam’s wife.”

  “Delilah was in an abusive marriage? Good Lord, I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, he was a real bastard. She tried to divorce him and he didn’t much like that idea. Tried to kill her. So she took off and ended up in Aransas City, working for Cam. When the guy caught up to her, I happened to be with her.”

  “My God, you could have been killed.”

  “Nah, it was just a flesh wound. Have to admit, though, it hurt like hell.”

  “I bet. What happened to him?”

  “Cam and Maggie came to the rescue and Maggie shot him. I’d passed out by then, but that’s what they tell me.”

  “So you were a hero.”

  He laughed again. “Not me. That’s Cam. Like I said, I just got in the way.”

  But he’d been the victim of a violent crime. Something they had in common, Lana thought. She finished cutting up the chicken, then took it to the stove and washed her hands. She heard the dryer buzz a minute later and went to get Gabe’s shirt. When she came back, Gabe had finished the vegetables and was standing at the sink drying his hands.

  She gave him the shirt, then turned on the gas beneath the skillet to begin heating the pan. She felt a pang of disappointment that he was covering up his chest. That was a good sign, she thought. Attraction was a very good sign. Even if she hadn’t acted on it, she still felt it.

  She tossed in the chicken to stir-fry it before she added the vegetables. “Shouldn’t be long.”

  Gabe was leaning against the countertop, smiling at her. She smiled in return. What was it about him that put her so at ease? That made her feel safe? Because he hadn’t rushed her? Hadn’t made a move on her? He hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

  She wondered if he would. And if he did, how would she react?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FRIDAY NIGHT, Gabe took Lana to the Scarlet Parrot. He’d asked her on Monday, while he was fixing her washer. Taking advantage of her gratitude might not have been fair of him, but he figured he would use any leverage he had to ease her into dating.

  Delilah spied them as soon as they came in and waved the hostess aside to take care of them herself. “Well, if it isn’t my long lost brother-in-law,” she said, giving him a hug. “It’s about time. We’d just about given up hope you would come in again.” She moved away and smiled at Lana. “Hi, Lana.”

  “Hi, Delilah.”

  “I told Cam I’d be in,” he said. “How’s it going, Mom? Where’s the belly?”

  Damned if her eyes didn’t get all teary. “I can’t wait until I’m showing. It’s wonderful. I don’t even mind morning sickness.” She hugged him again, so hard she almost knocked him over, then gave him a blinding smile. “Cam’s excited, too.”

  He patted her back and grinned at her. “Yeah, I caught that when he stopped by the other day. He’s really gaga about it all.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” she said, beaming. “I’m sorry,” Delilah said to Lana. “We didn’t mean to be rude. Cam and I are going to have a baby.”

  “I gathered that. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. We’re thrilled. Be sure and talk to Cam before you leave, Gabe.” She beamed again and took them to a table, then left to get their drinks.

  Lana watched Delilah go with an expression on her face Gabe couldn’t quite place. Sad? Or maybe wistful?

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked at him and smiled, shaking off the sudden mood shift. “Nothing. Why?”

  “You looked upset for a minute there. Or sad.”

  She sighed and rearranged her silverware. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t so observant.”

  So there was a story there. “Meaning you don’t want to talk about it.” He wished she’d open up to him, but maybe that was too much to expect. She trusted him enough to go out with him. For now, he needed to be content with that.

  Delilah came back with their drinks and they both gave their orders. Gabe tried to think of something to say but he didn’t think she’d appreciate learning what was on his mind. “You look really beautiful tonight,” he said instead. “But then, I think that every time I see you.”

  Just as she had in her laundry room the other night, she seemed flustered. Finally she stammered, “Th-thank you.”

  “Why does it make you nervous when I tell you you’re beautiful?”

  “I’m not nervous.” He lifted an eyebrow and she insisted, “I’m not. I’m just not used to men telling me that.”

  “Why, are they blind?”

  She laughed, seeming more at ease. “Thanks. But remember, I haven’t been dating. You’re the first man I’ve been out with in…maybe a year.”

  “What about your ex-husband? He never told you that you’re beautiful?” If Gabe was married to her, he’d damn sure let her know he thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Whoa, baby, what the hell was he thinking? Marriage? Him, married? That was a laugh. He wasn’t the marry
ing type.

  She shrugged and sipped her glass of wine. “At first. After we married, he didn’t bother much. He was never very…demonstrative.” She nodded at the bar. Cam was leaning over it to kiss Delilah. “Like the two of them. He would never have done that.” She tightened her lips. “Terence didn’t believe in public displays of affection.”

  “Cam and Delilah are a little sappy,” Gabe admitted. “They haven’t been married very long, though. Your ex sounds like a stuffed shirt.”

  She laughed. “He is. Very stuffy.”

  “So why did you marry him? He doesn’t sound like your type.”

  “I don’t know. I thought he was. He was a doctor, so we had medicine in common. We had similar interests, similar goals—or I thought we did. And I loved him. Supposedly he loved me, too.” She shrugged and added, “At first, anyway.”

  Delilah brought their orders, two of the shrimp plates for which the Scarlet Parrot was well-known. She talked with them for a moment, mostly about the baby, then left them to enjoy their meals.

  After a little while Lana broke the silence. “She’s so happy.”

  “Delilah? Oh, you mean about being pregnant? Yeah, she and Cam are both goofy about it.”

  “I don’t blame them. Knowing you’re having a baby is a feeling like nothing else in the world.”

  Her tone would have alerted him if her words hadn’t. Her expression was sad, infinitely sad. He put down his fork and waited for her to go on.

  “But even then, you don’t realize just how wonderful it is until it’s taken away.”

  Damn. He reached for her hand, said the only thing he could think of. “I’m sorry, Lana.”

  “Me, too.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I was four and a half months along when I lost her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said again. What else could he say?

  She shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to fall apart.”

  “It wouldn’t be a crime if you did. It obviously still hurts.”

  “Yes. I think it always will. I don’t usually talk about it. It makes me sad.”

  But she’d told him. She’d shared something intensely private with him. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?” He started eating again.

  “You. Tell me why you’ve never been married.”

  “I don’t have anything against it. Exactly. I just never met a woman I wanted to marry.”

  “No one? You’ve never been serious about a woman?”

  “Serious, no. Gone over, yeah.” He put his fork down, rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking that over. “She was a piece of work. But marriage… It might have crossed my mind, but not seriously. We didn’t really last that long, and besides, I was pretty much blinded by the incredible sex.”

  Lana was looking at him with a funny expression on her face. Damn him and his big mouth. Had he really said that about being blinded by incredible sex?

  “Sorry. Sometimes I speak first and think later.”

  “Don’t apologize for being honest.”

  “A little too honest, sometimes.”

  “No, I like that about you.” She toyed with her food again, then said, “So tell me about this woman you were gone over.”

  “Maybe later.” He smiled cynically. “For now let’s just say she was my personal Typhoid Mary.”

  “You don’t sound like you like women much.”

  “Sure I do. Some women.” He picked up her hand and smiled at her. “I like you.”

  She didn’t say anything, she just stared at him. But she didn’t pull her hand away.

  Delilah came by with the check. At least Cam had kept his word and had told Delilah to let Gabe pay.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Lana said after Delilah left.

  “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  She got up, but before she left she laid her fingers on his arm. “Gabe, just so you know…I like you, too.”

  He watched her walk away, hips gently swinging. He was getting pretty sappy if something as simple as her saying she liked him made him feel this good.

  “DO YOU WANT to go home?” Gabe asked Lana when they left the restaurant.

  “Why? Do you have something else in mind?”

  “I wondered if you’d like to see my boat. I thought since it’s right here, you might.”

  “I’d love to. I’ve seen it from a distance, but I’ve never been in a big boat or even seen one up close.”

  Though the restaurant parking lot was well-lit, the marina lot was darker, but she slipped her hand into her pocket and managed to remain calm. The feel of the pepper spray canister was reassuring. She was getting better, though. Not as anxious now as she’d been when she first moved. Maybe she was becoming adjusted to the small town. Or maybe it just seemed safer, somehow. When they reached the dock, Gabe turned on a set of lights that illuminated the area.

  “It’s down this way.” He led her to a big white boat with acres of gleaming chrome and shining fiber-glass. The name El Jugador was painted across the back.

  “What does El Jugador mean?”

  “It’s Spanish for ‘The Gambler.’”

  “So, are you a gambler?”

  His mouth lifted at one corner. “Not anymore.”

  She sensed there was a story behind that but decided she’d ask him later. It took some maneuvering, but they both managed to get into the boat.

  “This is the cockpit,” Gabe said. “I put chairs out here so people can fish. There’s usually a lot of fishing gear around, but Cam brought the stuff to my house since we weren’t sure how long I’d be laid up.”

  He looked sad for a moment, which didn’t surprise her. She’d be sad, too, if she faced losing something so important to her. She looked around and sighed. “It’s beautiful, Gabe. Lovely.”

  “It’s a boat.” He shrugged. “Nothing special. Here, I’ll show you the cabin.” He unlocked the door and opened it, letting Lana go in first. “This is the main cabin. The couch pulls out to make a double bed. There’s a stateroom that sleeps two, so it sleeps four in all. More if you go for sleeping bags on the floor.”

  It looked like a living room. She could see a narrow kitchen and decided the stateroom must be up under the bow. “Do you often take people out overnight?”

  “Sometimes. Especially if there’s a tournament. It takes a long time to get to blue water off the Texas coast.”

  “Did you decorate it yourself?” It was tastefully done in shades of blue and beige. There was a couch, two side chairs and a sturdy wood coffee table.

  He laughed. “No, my sisters and my mother got their heads together on that one. I wouldn’t have had a clue.”

  “Is it a full kitchen?”

  “We call it a galley on a boat,” he said, and motioned her to go in front of him. “It’s functional. Stove with an oven. Microwave and refrigerator. Close quarters, though.”

  There was a hallway that led to a tiny bathroom, or “head,” as Gabe called it, and the stateroom. It held a double bed and not much else. She looked at the bed, then looked at Gabe and raised an eyebrow.

  “Nice bed.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “Legions have thought so.”

  “Really?”

  Their eyes met. “Does it matter?”

  He was looking at her, his mouth curving slightly upward, waiting for her answer. Lana panicked.What was she doing, flirting with him this way? When she didn’t even know if she could kiss him without showing her fear, much less… She glanced at the bed again then at him. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  He held her gaze. “Not legions,” he said, ignoring her comment. “Not even close. But there have been a few.”

  She had no reason to be happy at his response, but she was.

  He led the way back into the main cabin. He’d left his cane by the galley door, she assumed because the hallway was so narrow he didn’t need it. He stopped and opened the refrigerator. “Want something to drink? A beer or a soft dr
ink?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

  On his way to the couch he paused to turn on some music, the sound a soft, muted background melody.

  “It’s a lovely boat, Gabe. No, don’t say it’s nothing special,” she said when he started to speak. “I can see it is.” She sat on the couch and he sat beside her, popping the top of his soft drink. He rubbed his leg absentmindedly and she wondered if he’d overdone things showing her around.

  “I had an offer from a buyer last Saturday.”

  So that’s what had been wrong with him at the Kramers’ party. No wonder he’d been moody. “And?”

  “And it sucked.” He drank his soda and frowned.

  “Did you take it?”

  “No, I turned it down but…” He let the sentence trail off and she finished for him.

  “Now you’re worried you should have taken it.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. Might be the only offer I get.”

  “Really?”

  “No. Well, only when I’m being paranoid. I priced it low as it was.”

  “Then you did the right thing.”

  “Maybe. Time will tell.”

  She wanted to comfort him but she didn’t think he’d accept sympathy from her. Instead she asked, “Tell me why you named your boat ‘The Gambler.’”

  He smiled. “A lot of reasons. It was a gamble to buy it. A gamble to go into the fishing business. But I wanted to try. Turned out to be a good gamble.” He drank some more and set the can down. “I almost lost it once before. About seven years ago. No, closer to eight now.”

  “What happened?”

  He turned his head and looked at her. Stared at her, really, as if he were considering just how much he wanted to tell her.

  “I used to gamble,” he said a long moment later.

  “Gamble, as in, you had a problem with gambling?”

  He nodded. “I figured you’d have heard by now. It’s common knowledge.”

  “Maggie said—” She hesitated, unsure whether to mention the discussion she’d had with Maggie.

  “Maggie told you about it?”