Coming In Hot

by Carmen Cook

  “What kind of problem?” Gavin called after him.

  Mitchell waved that he’d heard but didn’t respond and disappeared through the doorway. Damn it. He liked Mitchell, he didn’t want to have to kill him.

  Gavin jogged to the entrance, slapping his hands against his arms to ward off the chill and paused just inside to look for the group and letting the scent of freshly baked bread wash over him. It didn’t take long to spot three women sitting in a corner booth, their heads close together. Logan sat nearby being about as unobtrusive as a goat in a dress shop, but no one paid him any attention as he watched over Erin. Jason sat a short distance away with Erin’s grandfather, Jake, reviewing the plans to increase the security on the fence lines around his property. Leaving them to that, Gavin moved toward Regan. She was a magnet. He simply couldn’t stay away from her.

  “Everything okay?” Regan asked as he approached, peeking at him over her coffee mug. She had a twinkle in her eye, and he liked it. A lot.

  The punch to his solar plexus was instantaneous and consuming, stealing his breath. He wanted her. Again.

  Mitchell came from somewhere in the back and stepped around Gavin to take the seat next to Erin, who scooted over to make room, leaving the seat next to Regan available. “Yeah,” he answered, sliding in next to her. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Sure,” Erin said, refilling her mug with the carafe of coffee that had been left on the table. “You guys have an early morning meeting with Connor and then wind up at your ex-wife’s house. Sounds like a typical morning to me.”

  “How’d you hear we were at Kathy’s?” Gavin asked. “And where’s Gwen?”

  “Gwen went to work. Derek stopped by here to refill his go-mug before heading back to the office.”

  Gavin blinked. “No wonder Connor was so smug when I first got there this morning. He wasn’t drinking that same swill he served us.”

  “Bastard,” Mitch said mildly, slinging an arm over Erin’s shoulder, making them look like they were a couple to anyone who happened to be observing. Just then the waitress—Chloe—arrived at the table with two more menus, a couple of empty mugs, and glasses of water.

  “Who’s a bastard?” she asked, blushing, which did nothing to hide the bruise along her jaw.

  Regan grinned while sliding a hand to Gavin’s leg under the table. “Connor fed them the coffee from the police station this morning.”

  Chloe nodded, her eyes narrowed at the cozy way Mitchell and Erin were snuggled against one another. “So,” she said in an abnormally cheerful voice, “what can I get you guys?”

  As she went to put the order in, someone else stepped up to the table, eyes on Gavin. Disheveled and unkempt, the guy looked like he’d been sleeping in his clothes for the past several days.

  “You asshole. You’ve ruined my life.”

  “Dickey.” The kid smelled like he’d rolled around inside a whiskey bottle. “I heard you were heading back to California.” Across the table Mitch had tensed up, but he remained still for now. Erin had turned her head and was staring out the window. Logan had shifted closer, close enough to grab Dickey if needed, but not so close that Dickey realized he was there. This whole situation could turn into a goat fuck if he didn’t get Dickey out of there.

  Patting Regan’s hand, he stood, crossing his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to step in front of the table to block Dickey’s view of everyone there.

  “You’re the reason everything went to shit,” he snarked in Gavin’s face. “The network is talking about not renewing my contract, my dad is insisting I go to rehab and my bitch sister is doing everything she can to steal it all away. If you’d just minded your own business, none of this would have happened.”

  The kid sounded like a whiny brat. “Exactly which part is my fault, Dickey?” Gavin was trying to sound reasonable, but he’d obviously missed his mark, because Dickey lunged for him. Ducking the badly thrown fist, Gavin turned, tripping Dickey on the way so he’d go down. What he hadn’t counted on was Chloe approaching with their breakfast at that precise moment. Dickey flailed and hit Chloe’s tray, which flipped end over end, sending eggs and breakfast potatoes everywhere. It looked like the food fight scene from Animal House.

  Before Gavin could stop it, Chloe crashed to the ground across the food and shattered plates, Dickey lying facedown inches away.

  Mitch and Logan sprang into action, lifting the kid away from her and quickly securing his hands behind his back. “I’m so sorry,” Dickey sputtered, tears mingling with the snot and egg on his face. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  “Shut up, Dickey.” Jason took charge of the blubbering idiot, marching him out the door toward the police station. Turning back, Gavin saw Regan next to her sister, who still looked a little dazed and wobbly, while Logan and Erin’s grandfather were scooting Erin out the back door through the kitchen so she could head home before any more chaos ensued.

  Crossing the room, he put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “No,” she admitted quietly, “I’m not okay. I thought it would be better to get back to work, but I’m jumping at every sound. I can’t be here. Not yet.” Tears were filling her eyes, so Gavin pulled her down and sat next to her on the ground.

  Mitchell came back around the corner with a wet towel. Squatting on Chloe’s other side, he gently moved her hair away from her forehead and placed the towel on the new knot forming there. “Stay down for a minute,” he murmured, pressing her back onto the floor when she tried to get up. “Just take it easy.”

  Gavin saw a tear leak from the corner of her eye and stepped back so Regan could move in and offer whatever help she could. Before she could get close to her, another voice cut in. “Regan. I need to talk to you.”

  She spun around. “Todd. What are you doing here?”

  “I told you. I need to talk to you.”

  The irritation sparked by the idiot kid flamed to full-fledged anger. Gavin took a step, preparing to toss the asshole out on his ear, only to stop when Regan gripped his arm. “No,” she said. “You take care of Chloe. Please.”

  “You don’t owe him anything, you know that, right?” This was from Chloe, who was still on the ground, with Mitchell looming protectively over her.

  Regan nodded. “I know. Maybe he needs this closure. Maybe if I talk to him he’ll finally go away.” Without meeting Gavin’s eyes, she turned and motioned Todd toward the corner booth they’d vacated.

  “Regan—” Gavin started, not sure what to say. Not sure what he had a right to say, despite the burning desire to say something. Anything. But she didn’t give him a chance.

  “Not now, Gavin. I need to do this.” And with that, she walked away.

  So much for a nice relaxing day with Regan back in bed. His bed this time, because there was no way he was going to get her on that air mattress and not pop it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “What do you want, Todd?” Regan wanted to get this conversation over with so she could go to her sister. And Gavin. He’d watched her sit down with Todd, then turned back to Chloe, doing exactly what she’d asked.

  “Regan.” Todd reached across the table and took her hand. “What you saw, it didn’t mean anything.”

  She stared at him, incredulous that this was what he was starting with. “What I saw was you riding my co-worker like you were in the rodeo. There aren’t a lot of ways to misunderstand.”

  “But it didn’t mean anything.”

  Regan shook her head, unwilling to sit here and listen to him make the same excuses he’d made before. “What do you want, Todd? Why are you here?”

  He dropped her hand and leaned back in the booth. “I thought if I gave you some space, you’d come to your senses and come home. I thought going to Costa Rica to help with the homeless would make you realize where you belong.”

  “I was in Honduras. I did come to my senses, right before I filed for divorce. And I did come home.
” She gestured around them, noting that Chloe, Mitch, and Gavin were no longer on the ground. In fact, she couldn’t see them anywhere. With a frown she focused on her ex-husband again. “None of your arguments are new. What do you want, Todd? No more apologies. No more excuses. Just tell me why you’re here so you can leave.”

  He tightened his jaw in the way that told her he was going to be stubborn about something. It was a look that had always made her nervous, but she was relieved to realize she was simply irritated by it now. “I’m not giving up on what we had, Regan. I was stupid to agree to the divorce, I know that now. But you brought out the best in me and made me a better man. I miss you.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” Regan felt her eyes widen as the words tumbled from her lips. He hadn’t meant to say them out loud, but she didn’t regret it. “Our entire marriage was barely about us. It was about you and what you wanted and how we could work to achieve your goals.”

  “But I love you, Regan. That has to count for something, right?”

  Grabbing her purse, Regan slid out of the booth and stood. “If you really felt that way, you never would have signed the papers. As much as it might not seem that way, we were on the path to divorce well before I walked in and found you with someone else. It’s time for me to figure out what I want. The only thing I’m sure of is that it’s not being married to you.” The churning in her gut settled as the words left her mouth. Without a backward glance she made her way to the kitchen where Lucy was working the grill. Alone.

  “The big man just took Chloe home,” the woman said without looking up. “You want me to dump some coffee in your ex’s lap?”

  Laughing, Regan shook her head. “Not this time, Lucy. But if he shows up again, feel free. You need a hand waitressing since Chloe went home?”

  The old woman smiled, wrinkles mapping her face. “You’re a good girl, Regan. You go take care of your sister, I already got some help.” Just then Gavin stepped back into the kitchen, a long white apron tied around his hips.

  “Hey,” he said, coming to a stop. “You done with the douchebag?”

  She had to smile at his casually asked question, knowing if she had asked for him to step in, he’d do it without hesitation. “Yes, I’m done. I’ve been done.”

  “What did he want?”

  “I’m still not exactly sure,” she admitted. “He just offered the same excuses as he always did, then said I made him a better man. That he misses me.”

  “That’s it?”

  Regan shrugged. “That’s all I gave him a chance to say,” she admitted. “I meant it when I said I don’t have anything to say to him. I’m not sure why he won’t accept it.”

  Relief was evident on Gavin’s face so Regan leaned in and gave him a light kiss. “You were worried?” she asked, unable to wrap her mind around that.

  “Not really worried, but I can’t help but wonder at the timing of him showing up as all this stuff is happening. Do you think it’s possible he’s involved?”

  “No. Todd is a lot of things, but he’s not a fighter.”

  Gavin nodded. “Okay. If you say so, I’ll believe you. But I’m still going to have Connor check him out.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Regan told him. “I’m going to check on Chloe, make sure she’s okay.”

  Gavin pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her, just holding her for a couple of beats. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  “I really am,” she assured him just as quietly.

  Dropping a kiss onto her head, he stepped back. “Mitch took Chloe to Erin’s. You better go before Lucy fires me.”

  With a laugh, Regan left the kitchen, happy to see Todd was no longer at the table. Hopefully he was on his way back to Chicago and she wouldn’t have to see him ever again.

  Regan and Gavin fell into an easy routine over the next several days. She hadn’t seen him after leaving the diner, with her spending the day with Chloe at Erin’s grandfather’s house and him heading to work after waiting tables for a couple hours. Her phone had gone off non-stop with everyone sending her photos of him at the dinner. Consensus was he’d been a welcome addition to the menu.

  She hadn’t realized exactly how appealing a man wearing an apron could be.

  Gavin worked on the installation details for Erin’s grandfather’s house and Regan frantically winterized her small house, hoping to get all the outside work done before snow hit. She’d been lucky so far, but didn’t dare relax about it. The second she did they’d be hit with a blizzard.

  Then he’d gone out of town for two days and their phone calls had turned into late-night chats. She’d never felt so close to someone in such a short period of time. Was she setting herself up for heartbreak? Regan was driving Chloe crazy, so she’d abandoned their movie night and tried calling Gavin, but he hadn’t answered. Leaving him a message, she decided to stop worrying about it and climb into bed.

  Hours later Regan cracked her eyes open to find Gavin leaning over her, gently running his hand up and down her arm. His breath was minty, his touch sending a shiver up her spine. This was a most excellent dream.

  She reached for him, expecting to encounter warm skin she could glide her hands over. Skin she could lick and nuzzle, and work him into a frenzy. It was her turn.

  Instead, she wound up with a hand full of flannel.

  “Wait, you’re here? What time is it?” she asked, trying to make sense of her dream, which didn’t appear to be a dream at all. Gavin was there, in her bedroom, her hand wrapped around his shirt. “How did you get in? What are you doing here?” Her voice was husky with sleep, sounding erotic to her own ears. And seeing how his eyes darkened, he thought so too.

  “Your locks suck,” he told her without any heat in his words. “We’ll fix them this weekend. And it’s two o’clock in the morning. Come on, you need to get up. We’re going to be late.”

  “Late for what? It’s the middle of the freakin’ night. When did you get home?” Sleep was tugging her back under and she burrowed deeper into the mattress, trying to drag him down with her. “If you aren’t here to have your wicked way with me, you should leave. My dream was more interesting than going anywhere out in the cold.”

  She shrieked as the blankets were tugged back and the cold air hit her bare skin. The tank top and boxer shorts had seemed like plenty of cover when she snuggled under several blankets and a down comforter, but now it didn’t seem like the smartest plan she’d ever had. “Okay, I’m up. Geez.” Regan reached down to tug the blanket back up to cover herself, but Gavin held firm. In a huff she flopped back. “Why are we awake? And if we’re awake, why aren’t we sharing body heat?”

  “It’s snowing,” he announced with the excitement of a child. “Big fat flakes that are sticking so we need to get to the meadow.” He pulled open one drawer after another in her bureau until he found whatever it was he was looking for, the excitement still rolling off him in waves. She fought back a smile.

  He turned, long johns bundled in his hands. “It’s time for the Snow Bowl.”

  “Skiing?” she asked, referring to the local ski resort. “Are they even open in the middle of the night?”

  “No, not skiing. Football. Football in the snow. The Snow Bowl.” He shook his head and thrust the thermal underwear at her. “We started doing it in high school and thought we were being clever with the name. It was the Super Bowl in the snow.”

  “Awww. I sort of remember that.” She drew the sound out, gripping the thermal underwear to her chest. “Okay, so why do I have to go?”

  “All the girlfriends and wives go. Always.” He paused, some of his excitement fading from his eyes. “Don’t you want to go?”

  Warmth flooded her at the mention of girlfriends. Did he think of her that way? Did she want to be thought of that way? Before she even finished the thought she had her answer. Yes, yes she did. There was nothing she wanted more.

  Whoa, when had that happened? She offered him a smile, hoping to see the excitement come back into hi
s face. “Yeah, I’d like to go. If you really want me there.”

  Smooth. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at herself. Could she be more wishy-washy? Pulling the thermal underwear over her head, right over the top of the tank she was sleeping in, she slipped her legs over the side of the air mattress and stood. “Do I play, too? Or is it a guy thing, where the girls just come to cheer on their men?”

  The fleece-lined jeans she bought the other day were thick and instantly encased her legs in soft warmth. The desire to try to talk Gavin into climbing back into bed with her caught her by surprise. It was one thing to be a girlfriend, she told herself, but she would not be needy. She would not lose herself in a man, no matter how sinfully sexy he was.

  “Anyone can play,” Gavin said, answering her question, “but most of the time the guys play and the girls…do something else.”

  His vagueness gave her a moment of alarm, but then he grinned. “I can leave you the keys to the truck,” he promised, before she could ask him what exactly it was that the women did to occupy themselves while the players romped in the snow. “If you want to leave, I’ll catch a ride back with one of the guys. No issues.”

  Again, warmth filled her. “That’d be great,” she said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but hitting his mouth when he turned his head at the last second to capture her lips. She let the moment drag on, enjoying the touch. When he finally lifted his head she struggled to remember what they’d been talking about. Oh, right. Her leaving if she got bored. There wasn’t a chance, but she smiled mischievously. “If I do decide to leave, I’ll be waiting to warm you up when you get home.”

  His grin was wicked. “That sounds perfect.”

  She bundled up and he hustled her to his truck and drove through the icy roads with an easy competence. The mountain roads could be treacherous in the best of conditions, but the fresh snow was slick and Regan found herself holding her breath more than once. By the time they pulled up to the clearing—it was an abandoned campsite that had been taken over by the locals—several vehicles were already parked around the perimeter, all with their lights on and aimed into the clearing to illuminate the field. The snow was falling rapidly. Big, fat flakes that shone brightly in the headlights, nearly obscuring all the men standing about in the center.