He slid the dog onto the backseat next to Racy, ordered her to put her seat belt on and then jumped in the driver's seat. The snow had slowed a bit, but the winds had picked up. He put the Jeep into gear and headed back the way they'd come.
He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. "Hey, Kali…it's Gage," he said, when the veterinarian at the other end offered a sleepy hello. "Sorry to wake you, but I've got an emergency. I'm on my way to your place with a golden retriever, age…"
"Eight months," Racy whispered from the backseat.
"Eight months," he repeated, "that's been fed alcohol, beer most likely. Don't know how much or even how long ago. He got sick and passed out just a few moments ago."
"Tell her it's Jack. I had him in for a checkup last week."
Gage relayed the information and promised to get to her clinic as soon as he could. Ending the call, he pulled out onto the main road, glad to see the snowplows and salt trucks had made a pass on this stretch of highway.
He looked in his rearview mirror, but all he saw was snow-covered windows. A quick glance over his shoulder found Racy bent at the waist, caressing the dog's matted coat and murmuring softly to him, much like a mother would do to a sick child.
Gage focused back on the road. "Kali said it didn't hurt the dog to get sick. I'm guessing it cleared out his stomach."
"But he's not waking up and the alcohol is still swimming in his system," Racy said. "God only knows how much they gave him."
"When did you head to work this afternoon?"
"Gina and I left around four."
Gage tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. His anger flared to life again. He glared into the mirror. "Just how long have those bastards been around?"
Racy's head shot up. Her eyes were lost in the shadows, but he could see the hard line of her mouth. "Those bastards are my brothers. And they must've showed up after we left."
"And broke into your house."
She raised her chin. "I left the place unlocked."
Gage believed her claim about not knowing her brothers had been released—her response had been too genuine. But instinct told him she was covering for them now. What he didn't understand was why.
Her lie sat like a rock in his gut. Maybe because one of the things he'd always admired about Racy was her honesty. She never held back the truth about anything. Even when she'd told him their amazing night in Vegas had been a mistake.
He eyed the digital readout from the dashboard clock.
2:33 a.m. Five months ago today, to the minute, he'd actually married this woman. Happy freaking anniversary.
* * *
For richer or for poorer…
Whose fingers were trembling? Hers or his? He winked and squeezed her hand. Okay, they were hers.
In good times and bad…
What bad times? It had been all good…all night long. And they hadn't even gotten to the suite yet. She hoped it had a hot tub.
To love and to cherish…
Oh, no, getting teary eyed. Concentrate on Preacher Elvis's sequined bell-bottoms.
From this day forward until death do us part…
His job was dangerous. He always carried a weapon. He had one on him right now. She'd felt it pressed against her when he'd pulled her into a deep kiss during the taxi ride here. Not that Destiny was a thriving hotbed of crime, her family not included. Still, his father had died in the line of duty.
I now pronounce you man and wife…
"Racy."
He whispered her name as he lowered his head.
"Racy."
He said it again just before his lips swept over hers—
* * *
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up."
Racy's eyes flew open. A wave of cold air smacked her in the face. She jerked upright in her seat and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
Oh, yuck. Her heart clenched. Jack.
She and her beautiful golden had found each other just after she'd returned from Vegas. He was the most sweet and loyal male in her life ever. Now he was at the vet clinic with an IV, being kept for observation.
Kali Watson had reassured her Jack would be okay, but she wanted to monitor him overnight, even after he'd finally awakened. Racy had nodded in agreement and every last ounce of her energy had departed. She climbed into the front seat of Gage's Jeep, and promptly fell asleep, dreaming about the moment she and Gage had become man and wife.
Another gust of wind washed over her. She turned to find Gage standing at the open passenger door. She looked past him to a stone walkway that led to a covered porch made up of giant logs.
"Where are we?"
He took her arm and pulled her from her seat. "My place."
"What? I told you to take me—"
"I know what you told me." Gage closed the truck door, grabbed her by the elbow and led her up the walk. "But it's four in the morning, the roads are freezing over and my place is closer to the vet…just in case."
Racy pulled from his touch. "I am not staying here."
"You're dead on your feet and I'm not far behind." He turned his back to her and unlocked the massive front door. "Your choice is a warm bed or a cold truck."
"Gage, wait. What will people—"
He disappeared into the house, leaving the door ajar. Racy wrapped her coat around her, already frozen to the core. Warm air flowed from inside. She took a step, then stopped.
She and Gage? Together? They'd worked so hard for months to stay away from each other, and now, to be here at his place…
And what a place it was.
She stepped off the porch. The logs were massive. An angled, high-pitched roof melted into the night sky and rows of dark windows lined one wall. A curved driveway disappeared down the hill to what must be a lower level.
It was bigger than she'd thought he'd build. She'd dreamed about owning this spot of land herself one day, having come here often as a kid. The lake wasn't visible, but judging from his front door it should be—
"Racina Josephine, get your ass in here," Gage bellowed from inside. "You're letting out all the heat."
She jumped and hurried inside. Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed the door and found herself in a dimly lit entryway. "Gage?"
"In here."
She followed his voice and moved into a vast, open space. Ceilings that reached twenty feet rose above her head. On her left was a gleaming galley-style kitchen partitioned by a bar area. She moved into a combined great room and dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows. A double row of the same windows filled the far wall and she knew the lake was right outside the twin set of French doors. A fire, slowly coming to life in a stone hearth, provided the room's only light.
"Wow."
"Glad you like it." Gage's tone was sharp when he came through a doorway to the left of the fireplace. He'd removed his jacket, but still wore his gun in his shoulder holster, emphasizing the width of his chest. He carried a couple of pillows and a quilt in his arms.
"Did you do this in the few minutes I was outside?"
"I started the fire because I'm cold."
He walked to the long end of the leather L-shaped sectional and dropped the bedding. "I left your backpack, something for you to sleep in and fresh towels in the bathroom. Just leave your clothes on the floor. I'll wash them later."
She looked down. She'd attempted to clean up while at the vet's, but a shower sounded heavenly. "Oh, that's okay. I don't want you to go to any trouble."
He stared at her for a long moment before he turned toward the fireplace. "Fine, I'm too tired to argue with you. The bathroom is through the master bedroom. I'll bunk out here."
Sleep in Gage's bed? Not just no, but hell no.
A shiver raced through her. It wasn't cold in here, despite the size of the room and lack of furnishings. Other than the leather sectional sofa flanked by a couple of freestanding lamps, she could see a flat-screen television and stereo system in one corner. That was i
t. The dining area was empty except for a large iron chandelier.
She folded her arms across her chest. "Don't you have a spare bedroom I could use?"
"No." He tossed another log on the fire.
He must have at least one other bedroom. This place was huge. "How many bedrooms do you have?"
"Three."
Whoa. "And bathrooms?"
"Three." Gage jabbed at the log, sending up a shower of sparks. "And a half. But, except for the master bath, they all still need some work."
Oh, my, this wasn't a bachelor pad. This was a home.
The realization hit her full force, knocking the breath from her lungs. Gage had built a place where he and his wife—a real wife—would raise children, celebrate holidays, have family and friends over for birthday parties and cookouts and—
"Look, the only furniture in the house, besides out here, is in my bedroom, so you're going—what's wrong?"
His voice cut through her thoughts. Determined to shut down the whirlwind in her mind and not think about anything but Jack, she avoided his gaze and headed for the door next to the fireplace.
"Nothing. Bathroom's this way?"
"Straight through the bedroom. You've got fifteen minutes."
The quiet emphasis of his words stopped her. "Or what?"
"My shower is big. Big enough for two."
Chapter Five
R acy disappeared into his bedroom with all the dignity she could muster, considering the condition of her hair and clothes. Moments later, Gage heard the faint sound of running water. He instantly thought back to that morning in Vegas when he'd stood outside another door and imagined her standing beneath a hot spray of water.
Only this time, they were in his house. And she was in his shower.
He backed away from the bedroom door and headed for the stairs to the lower level of the house. He did a quick check of the rooms, came back upstairs and reset the security system at the front door. He then stored his weapon in a concealed but accessible location in the living room.
When he heard the water shut off he looked at his watch. Twenty-five minutes. Refusing to consider if she'd stayed in the shower longer on purpose, he waited another ten minutes, making sure nothing but silence came from behind the closed door.
His own shower was quick, his eyes straying to the curves beneath the blankets on his bed as he grabbed her soiled clothes on the way out. In the laundry room, he shoved her clothes into the washing machine. Then something pink, a scrap of lace and string at his feet, caught his eye.
Racy's underwear.
It only took a second before he realized the panties were the same pair he'd seen hanging from that hideous trophy the morning they'd woken up married in Vegas. The memories returned and his lower half snapped to attention like a raw recruit. He tossed the panties into the machine, went into his living room and sank into the soft leather cushions of his couch.
Damn, it had been one hell of a day.
He propped his bare feet on the table, stared into the orange and yellow flames of the fire and let his mind wander back to the night's events.
After Racy's show on the bar he'd gone downstairs, keeping to the outer edges of the crowd. From the shadows of a booth he'd kept an eye on both Racy and his sister while quieting the rumble in his belly with a supersize burger and fries.
Landon Cartwright had walked by and stopped to introduce his brother, in town for Landon and Maggie's upcoming wedding. Gage had been suspicious of Cartwright when he'd come to town six months ago, but he'd proved to be a good man and Gage now considered him a friend. He recognized Landon's brother as the cowboy Racy had picked to enjoy her special drink. He'd returned Chase Cartwright's firm handshake, refusing to acknowledge the relief he felt that this guy would soon head back to Texas.
And while he still didn't understand Gina's desire to work at The Blue Creek, he'd sure as hell pissed her off by showing up tonight. That's okay, he was pissed, too. At himself because foremost in his mind was another woman and the fact that he was still married to her, when he should be focused on his family.
"Isn't that a kick in the head?" He said to the dancing flames. "Married to a woman who can't stand the sight of you?"
Gage's eyes burned with fatigue, but sleep wouldn't come. The jumbled thoughts in his head wouldn't allow it.
Hell, who was he kidding? His houseguest wouldn't allow it.
The moment Racy had fallen asleep after they'd left the veterinary clinic, he'd headed to his house. There was no way he would take her back to deal with her loser brothers. Of course, he hadn't thought much past that decision until they'd gotten to his front door. He'd found himself aiming twice to get the key in the lock as images of Racy's flame-red hair and naked skin against the dark sheets of his king-size bed filled his head.
Damn, it was hot in here.
He didn't know if it was the fire or the flannel pajama pants, an old habit from living with his family he'd broken once he'd moved out. Going from the shower to his bed naked had quickly become the norm.
Not tonight. Tonight, there was a sexy-as-all-get-out woman curled up in his bed. And not just any woman. His wife.
He'd thought he'd seen a flash of something—passion, maybe—in her eyes when he'd called her Mrs. Steele back in her office. But when she'd found her matching letter from the Nevada bar association, she'd looked more like she was going to be sick to her stomach.
Other than a strained silence or biting retorts, they hadn't discussed what they were going to do about the fact they were still legally married.
Gage grabbed the mail he'd dumped on the coffee table when he'd first walked in. He opened a heavy white envelope. A handwritten note fell from the card inside. He angled it toward the fire to read the delicate writing.
Dear Gage,
Since you're a member of the wedding party, you already have this information, but it's only fair you get an invite in case you want to bring a date.
Yeah, right. Thanks to his work schedule and being a hands-on contractor for this place, the last time he'd been on a date was well over a year ago. Not counting Vegas, of course.
Your friendship has always meant so much to me and now to Landon, as well. Thanks for being part of our special day.
Love, Maggie and Landon
P.S. I promise I won't pair up you and Racy!
He crushed the note and tossed it into the fire. Rising, he walked around the end of the couch and stopped when he reached the glass doors that led to the two-level deck he'd put the final nail in last month. The storm clouds had blown away. A full moon shined down on the snow and reflected in the dark, glasslike surface of the lake.
He thought again about the last line of the note. You and Racy. Except for that lost weekend five months ago, there'd never been a "him and Racy."
No, that wasn't true.
Years ago, on a spring night, right here at Echo Lake.
A senior anxious for graduation, he'd come to the lake looking for some quiet time. What he'd found instead was sixteen-year-old Racy Dillon.
He closed his eyes against the memory, but it came anyway.
"Hey there."
She whipped her head around, a mess of red curls flying over her shoulder. Damn, she was pretty. Perched on a rock near the edge of the lake, her legs bare except for her once-white sneakers. Cutoff jean shorts revealed miles of skin, and a white collared shirt outlined her breasts. Racy Dillon had filled out with curves in all the right places early on.
So had her reputation, but he didn't believe half the stuff the guys boasted about her in the locker room. The other half? Well, she never seemed to be lonely.
"What the hell are you doing here?" She pressed whatever she was holding close to her chest.
He leaned against the closest tree. "Looking for some peace and quiet. Like you."
"Without your posse of hanger-ons?" She glanced around as if looking for a crowd. "Gee, I didn't know you could stand your own company."
Gage shook his head. B
eing the sheriff's eldest son and the captain of the football team, most of the kids spent more time sucking up to him than anything else. Not Racy. Last year, she'd called him out on a wrong answer in front of everyone in English lit, despite her being a freshman in an upper-level class, and she hadn't backed down since.
The Sheriff's Secret Wife Page 7