Steve walked toward to her, taking note of a tall, lanky man standing nearby with a head of silver hair that had seen thicker days. “This is Mr. Wilson. He owns the grocery.”
“Steve Morgan.” He quickly shook the man’s large hand.
“Whitney tells me you’re here on a fishing trip and you’re not having much luck.”
“That’s true.” Steve glanced at her and she gave him a smug grin. Was this some kind of payback for him accepting the dinner invitation? Was she trying to make him look inadequate? If it made her feel better to belittle him, then let her. He didn’t care.
“I consider myself a pretty good fisherman,” Mr. Wilson said, puffing out his chest. “Maybe we could go out together early in the morning. I could show you some of my favorite holes.”
“Can I get back to you on that? I’m not sure what I’ll be doing tomorrow.”
The man’s friendly smile slipped. “Of course.”
Steve had hurt his feelings. Maybe there was something to small town living that he didn’t understand. Maybe the people were more sensitive.
“While I’m here,” Steve said, thinking it best to move on. “I’d like to get a few things to stock the refrigerator at my cabin.”
The older man’s smile returned. Money had a tendency to make people happy.
Steve turned to Whitney. “What would you recommend for a man who can barely boil water? Make Mr. Wilson a list and we’ll come back later to pick the stuff up.”
There it was again. He was getting real tired of that stink-eye.
She turned and followed Mr. Wilson to the counter to work up a list. When she’d finished, she returned to them and frowned when she found Kylie standing next to Steve. Somehow between breakfast and now, the little girl had warmed to him, and for whatever reason, it pleased Steve.
Whitney clasped her daughter’s hand and headed for the door.
Outside the grocery, she turned on him again. “Are you trying to give everyone in town the wrong idea about us?”
“What do you mean? What did I do this time?”
She huffed loudly. “Could you make a list? You might as well have told Mr. Wilson we were sleeping together because I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking right now.”
Steve was sure he’d been thrust into an alternate universe. “How do you figure that?”
The look she gave him could have cracked an active cryogenic chamber. Steve felt completely out of his element with this woman. He had no idea what he’d done to piss her off, but had grown damned sick of trying to figure her out. It wasn’t possible. You’d think she’d have a little more gratitude. After all, he’d offered her his cabin — hell, his bed, for Christ’s sake.
“You don’t understand how small-town people think.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Maybe you could enlighten me.”
She glared at him. “It would take too long, and frankly, it’d be a waste of time. It’s not like you’re planning to stay in town.”
“I guess you’re right. Why bother.”
Steve started to walk away until Kylie’s hand tugged at his. He looked down and for the first time since they’d met, she smiled at him — a toothy grin that sent a twinge straight to his gut — a sensation that left him feeling confused and out of sorts, even more than he already was.
• • •
Whitney stepped out of the bathroom to find her daughter sitting on the couch next to Steve, looking at him as if she’d discovered boys for the first time. She really couldn’t blame her. Detective Morgan was a great-looking guy. It was hard not to be drawn to him. But she had to try. He’d cause trouble, and she knew he kept secrets.
“Are you ready?”
His question had her mentally shaking herself.
He glanced at his watch. “If we don’t get going, we’re going to be late for the barbecue.”
“I’m ready.” Whitney grabbed her purse and started toward her daughter, who, instead of taking her hand, took Steve’s. The gesture hurt. A complete stranger, and yet her daughter wanted to hold his hand instead of hers. That had never happened before. He had to be special or her little girl wouldn’t have taken to him so quickly. It amazed Whitney how smitten her daughter had become. Then again, she’d never given Kylie a chance to warm up to a man before.
How would she react when Detective Morgan left town?
To keep her from getting hurt, Whitney needed to get back to her home and to her life. The week would eventually end and he’d load up his belongings and head back to Denver, never to give her or her daughter another thought.
On the way out, Steve locked the door to the cabin and helped Kylie into her car seat strapped in the back of his Trailblazer. Then they were on their way.
“Do you think wine and beer are enough to bring?” Steve asked.
“Bill and Patsy won’t even expect that.” Steve followed her directions to the Fry’s house, and had no choice but to park almost a block from their home because cars lined the street on both sides. “I thought it was just going to be us,” he said, staring at her, then at all the vehicles.
“When the Frys throw a barbeque, it’s an event.”
“You could have warned me about that.”
“Why do you think I was so angry about you accepting their invitation? Everyone in town will speculate about us now.”
“We could bow out and leave.”
“No we can’t. Here comes Patsy. She must have seen us double back.”
Whitney opened her door and met Mrs. Fry on her way to get Kylie out of the back. Steve came around with the bag of wine and beer in his arms.
“I’m so glad you all could come.”
Once Whitney had gotten Kylie out of her car seat, the woman smiled down at her. “Bill made homemade ice cream especially for you, Kylie. Come on.” She clasped her tiny hand and took off toward the back of the house. “Hurry up you two,” Patsy called over her shoulder. “The food is on the table.”
Whitney glanced at Steve who gestured for her to go first. As she walked, she could feel his eyes on her and hoped the jeans she wore didn’t make her butt look big. She was totally insecure about that body part — always had been.
When they reached the backyard, all eyes turned their way. What were they thinking? She could just imagine.
Bethany raced over to Whitney and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the crowd.
“I thought you said the man was here fishing with a friend. What are you doing with him?”
“This isn’t what you think, Beth. I was showing him around town and the Frys asked us to come tonight.”
“So he’s fair game, then?”
Why did the idea of Bethany flirting with the detective leave a bad taste in Whitney’s mouth?
“I guess that’d be up to him.”
“Great. I’ll talk to you later.” Beth made a beeline for Steve and Whitney’s gut wrenched. Why, she had no idea. This man didn’t do a thing for her. Okay, so that was a bit of a fabrication, but she’d sworn off men — especially the ones who’d be leaving once they’d gotten their fill of fishing and whatever other activities they chose to indulge in.
Chapter Seven
Steve slipped away from the petite blond, hoping he’d be able to avoid her for the rest of the evening. He’d never met a woman so damned persistent. You’d have thought she would have gotten the hint he wasn’t interested by now and moved on to someone else. What she wanted wouldn’t happen and she might as well get that through her head before she embarrassed them both.
“Mr. Morgan,” Bill Fry called, waving him over to his table.
Steve started toward him, taking note of the two men sitting to Bill’s right. Mason Crane, the owner of the lodge and Ben Wilson, the grocer. Maybe it was time to get some information out of them. Surely
three businessmen knew all the gossip around town.
Steve grabbed a beer from a tin bucket at the end of the table and sat next to Bill. “Thanks again for inviting me to supper.” He patted his belly. “The food was delicious.”
Bill smiled. “We’re glad you came.”
“Is it true that Whitney and Kylie are staying with you at the cabin?” Mason asked, eying him like an overprotective father.
The question caused everyone at the table to stare at Steve and sweat trickled down his back.
“Someone broke into her house last night. I didn’t think it was safe for her to stay there, and she didn’t want to put anyone out at that time of night.”
“You know, she hasn’t dated anyone since Wyatt. What a loser he was,” Mr. Wilson said, shaking his balding head. “She was six months pregnant with Kylie when she caught him in bed with a tourist. He up and left her with this gal, and we haven’t seen hide or hair of him since. Whitney was pretty broken up about it. But once her daughter arrived, she threw herself into being the best mother she could be and she’s done well.”
Steve got caught up in Mr. Wilson’s story — angry with the man who had left Whitney pregnant and all alone. He clearly wasn’t much of a man, like his own deadbeat father.
“She’s a pretty girl.” Bill looked to Steve to agree.
“Yes, she is.” He took a long swallow of beer. “Why hasn’t anyone tried to snag her,” Steve asked, fishing for information. Maybe he could find out if there was anyone in particular that had it bad for her — it might help him discover who broke into her house.
Everyone at the table burst out laughing.
Steve frowned. “What?”
“I think every single male from Marble to Carbondale has tried. She won’t bite. I guess she’s still in love with Wyatt.”
Steve’s gut twisted 90 degrees. Why did her love for another man bother him? It wasn’t like he could have a relationship with Whitney — she’d be sorely disappointed if he tried.
He gulped his beer, draining the bottle.
Bill opened another and handed it to him.
“Tell me about yourself, Steve. What do you do when you’re not in Marble fishing?”
“I’m a cop,” he said reluctantly. No doubt by morning everyone would know that fact.
“Really. You know, a bunch of us storeowners have been talking recently about hiring a city cop. Someone close by to take care of any local problems. You’re not looking for a job are you?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m here on vacation. I’ll be gone in another week or so.”
“I understand that, but there are a lot of perks to living in Marble,” Bill said, turning toward Whitney, who sat talking with his wife. He turned back to Steve and smiled. “Don’t you think?”
Steve took another long swallow of beer and stared at Whitney. A strange sensation worked its way over his body, a reaction that had him shifting on his seat. It had to be the alcohol. That’s all.
“I guess that’s a yes.” Bill’s assumption drew Steve’s attention to him.
“Like I said, I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Well, it didn’t hurt to ask.” Bill slapped Steve on the shoulder. “And if you change your mind … ”
• • •
Whitney had watched Steve on and off all evening, knew he’d had at least three beers and thought it best she drive them back to the lodge. “I think you should let me drive.” She held out her hand for his keys.
He gave her a lopsided grin, then reached into his pocket, dug out the keys, and tossed them to her.
Most men would have argued the point, but Steve Morgan wasn’t like any other man she’d known. He hadn’t once said anything inappropriate, or tried to touch her, so unlike the men who had asked her out after Wyatt left town. They’d all assumed she was easy, a single mother in need of a man to take care of her. Boy, had they been disappointed to learn otherwise.
If Kylie’s father had taught her anything, it was to never allow her heart to rule her head. But Steve was different. He seemed to almost avoid making contact with her or saying anything that she would construe as flirting.
Whitney got in the driver’s seat and looked over at him. His head was tilted back against the headrest and his eyes were closed. Her gaze inadvertently connected to his lips. She wondered if they were as firm as they looked. How would the detective kiss? Would it be gentle and probing or wild and reckless? Was there tongue involved?
Oh God.
Embarrassed, she turned away and took a long, cleansing breath.
What the heck was wrong with her? She knew better than to go there, but for some reason her thoughts wandered to his mouth anyway.
Whitney turned over the engine in the SUV and pulled away from the curb. She needed to keep her mind focused on what was important, keeping her daughter safe, warm and fed — nothing else mattered.
“Thanks,” Steve said in barely a whisper.
Whitney glanced at him. “For what?”
“For realizing I shouldn’t be driving. I wasn’t thinking when I had that last beer.”
“I know what drove you to it.”
His turned his head toward her and opened his eyes. “What’s that?”
“Bethany.” Whitney turned her attention back to the road. “Sorry I didn’t warn you about her.”
He laughed. “She was definitely persistent.”
“That’s Beth.”
“She a friend of yours?”
Whitney smiled. Were they friends? She wasn’t quite sure. “Bethany watches Kylie for me when I work.”
She turned onto the road leading to the lodge while a strange sensation electrified the air in the cab. They’d be at the cabin in a few minutes and she’d put Kylie in bed and then what? She wasn’t even remotely tired. In fact, she was restless as hell.
So what was she going to do?
She turned onto the trail leading to the cabins and parked in front of number four.
“I’ll get Kylie, if you can get all the food Patsy packed up for us,” Whitney said, noting a slight tremor in her voice.
Last night she’d been nervous about coming to stay with him at the cabin, but tonight all that emotion came home. She felt this obvious attraction to the man and she’d be lucky if she closed her eyes all night.
He unlocked the cabin’s door and opened it for her, and then switched on the light. “I’ll get the food out of the back.”
Whitney carried Kylie to bed, and then eased her feet out of her shoes and changed her into her pajamas.
As she tucked her daughter under the covers, she heard Steve place the food in the refrigerator.
Both met in the middle of the room and stared at each other.
Whitney’s breath caught in her chest. She had made a huge mistake in agreeing to stay with him. He was too attractive — too damned sexy and it had been a lifetime since she’d touched a man.
“I think we should go to bed,” he said in a low tone.
“Bed,” Whitney mumbled, her eyes snapping to his.
He turned and headed for the couch.
Jesus, Whitney. Would you have jumped into the sack with him if that’s what he’d meant? Has Wyatt’s betrayal not taught you a thing?
Whitney walked to her suitcase and grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of lounge pants, and then started for the bathroom. She needed to get her hormones in check and preferably before she returned from changing. Maybe a cold shower would help, and then again, maybe there were little green men waiting outside the cabin to take her to the mother ship.
• • •
Steve watched Whitney enter the bathroom and released the strangled breath he’d been holding. He couldn’t believe what he’d said.
We should go to bed. Real swift, Steve. Her
eyes had grown three sizes bigger at the stupid suggestion. She probably thought he was a pervert. Hell, maybe he was. She made him feel things he shouldn’t — with still no guarantee of being able to perform should the need arise. That was his biggest concern. Would it rise to the right occasion? Steve had no idea and didn’t plan to find out the hard way — leaving both of them unsatisfied.
Steve yanked off his boots and slammed his head against the arm of the sofa, causing a twinge to shoot all the way to his toes. He should’ve bought an extra pillow today so he wouldn’t have to risk getting another neck crick.
The door to the bathroom came open, the light in the room illuminating the T-shirt Whitney wore. He could see right through the cotton material. Her breasts were perfect, jutting up against the thin fabric.
Steve tried to look away but found it impossible. Whitney McAllister mesmerized him. He sucked in a ragged breath and watched her, her light green gaze connecting with his.
Switch off the light, Whitney. Please. For sanity’s sake.
Her nipple puckered under the tee.
Angry with himself, Steve turned his head to face the couch back. It was going to take him hours to get that image out of his mind. If he ever did.
A creak from the steps outside had him on alert.
Steve jumped up and raced to the kitchen, reaching into an upper cabinet for his holstered gun.
On his way to the door, he glanced at Whitney, whose eyes widened. She’d clearly heard the noise as well. He placed his index finger to his lips and started for the door.
Another board popped outside and Steve knew the unexpected visitor was directly behind the door.
He turned to Whitney and signaled her with his hand to get down. She immediately scooped Kylie out of bed and ducked next to it.
Steve eased open the door and peeked out. He couldn’t see a thing. Then he pushed it open wider and heard a woman scream.
Had it been Whitney?
He shot out the entrance to find Bethany rushing down the steps.
“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, his heart rate pounding at a feverish pitch.
Watching Whitney Page 5