Handsome Hero

by Lori Wilde

  Hal set the beer on the counter, then leaned farther over so he could get a better look. “When Mr. Gorgeous mentioned he was looking for a place to stay, you didn’t tell him you had a nice little house with spare bedrooms, did you?”

  Stunned, Paige stared at Hal. “Of course not. I don't know that man.” Even if she weren't dodging the press, she wouldn't invite a strange man home.

  “Hal would have. Definitely in his younger days,” Alma, Hal’s wife and the cook for the Honey Café, said. “He used to have the morals of a junkyard dog. Everyone in town knew it.”

  Hal laughed and blew a loud kiss at the elderly woman. “I love it when you flatter me. I can see why we’ve been married since dirt was invented. You get me.”

  Alma gave her husband a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. “Dear, for some of us, like Paige and me, love is special. If what you feel for the handsome young man is special, I say go for it. If not, pass. He'll find what he needs with that other woman.”

  Paige shook her head again. “I'm just trying to serve his beer, not—”

  “Seduce him within an inch of his sanity,” Hal blurted. “Got it, but frankly, too bad. He's tall, dark, mysterious, and built like a Greek god. Being a breathing female, you should be contemplating taking that boy on night maneuvers and doing some wild and wicked things with him.”

  Paige frowned at Hal. “You need some serious therapy.”

  Hal laughed again and set a beer on the counter. “Tell me about it.”

  Alma sighed. “Paige, pet, if Hal weren't insane, how would the rest of us know we're just fine?”

  Paige grabbed the beer and ignored their laughter. Those two were a mixed blessing. Since starting work here, they'd been absolute dolls to her, but they, of all people, should understand why she didn’t want to date. They knew who she was.

  Thankfully, they didn’t treat her differently, which was rare. People usually did when they found out who her father was. She hated that. Now, with the wedding fiasco thrown in, people really would treat her like an oddity, and it wouldn’t be long before hordes of reporters and photographers descended on the town like locusts.

  She was better off keeping that part of her life to herself. No reason to tell anyone else unless she absolutely had to.

  Since there was no putting this off, Paige drew a calming breath into her lungs and headed across the café. She didn't care if this guy liked men, women, or goats. She just wanted him as far away from her as possible.

  Those directions she'd given him should do the trick.

  “Here's your beer.” She set the frosty glass in front of the man. This close, she could see how amazingly blue his eyes were and how thick his dark-black hair was. It annoyed the heck out of her, but she felt her pulse rate pick up. Hal was right about one thing—the guy was incredibly handsome. He had a tough, rugged look about him. He came across as sincere and trustworthy, and she couldn't help thinking that if this guy really was out to trick her, then she was in big trouble. For all she knew, he could be here to make money selling her picture. Whatever he was, he didn't seem like a typical cowboy looking for the slow-lane lifestyle offered by the small town of Honey.

  The guy smiled again, a slow, lazy smile that she bet won over a lot of women. “Thanks, Paige. I really appreciate it.”

  She stopped, fear washing over her. “How do you know my name?”

  He leaned a little closer, so Paige instinctively took a step back.

  “The bartender called you Paige. Right before he called me a handsome devil.” The man leaned back in his chair, his smile now a full-fledged grin. “By the way, my name is Max Walker. And as much as I'd like to visit your house, I think you're smart not to invite me.”

  Paige felt a flush climb her cheeks. “You heard—”

  “Everything you all said. Might want to keep that in mind the next time you want to plot something. The café isn’t that big. Everyone can hear what people at the bar are saying.”

  Frantically, Paige tried to remember what she'd said to Hal and Alma. Had she mentioned she was afraid of Max? Had she said anything about Adam?

  Scanning her memory, she was relieved to find that she hadn't. At least she hadn't lost her common sense along with her peace of mind.

  “Thanks for tip,” was all she could think to say. “Good luck finding an apartment.”

  He nodded. “And a job. I'll need luck with that as well.”

  “Enjoy your beer.” She turned and started to head to the bar.

  “Whoa, Paige.”

  She wanted nothing more at the moment than to get away from Max. Maybe he was who he said he was, but whoever he was, he disturbed her. At this point, she didn't want to be disturbed. She wanted peace and quiet in a world that didn't have potential bad guys who looked like they were sex gods.

  Turning slowly, she tried to still her racing heart. “Yes?”

  He pulled his wallet out of his jeans. “Want money?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “For the beer, Paige. How much for the beer?”

  “Four fifty.”

  He handed her a five. “Keep the change.”

  Paige looked at the five in her hand, willing her breathing to slow, willing the constant suspicious feeling she had to subside.

  “Paige, you okay?”

  She glanced at Max. He was looking at her with concern. Great. This guy had to think she was crazy.

  “I'm fine,” she told him and turned once again to head to the bar. She’d only taken a few steps when a deep, sensual chuckle caught her attention. She couldn’t help herself. She stopped and glanced at him again.

  Distracted, she didn’t notice when a toddler broke free of his parents and ran toward her, knocking over chairs on his way. By the time the ensuing commotion caught her attention, it was too late to move. The boy slammed into her like a tidal wave, the impact surprisingly powerful for such a little guy. For a heartbeat, she teetered, her grip on the tray in her hand precarious. Then before she could fully gain her footing again, gravity won and sent her falling backward. She let out a yelp of surprise, and a split second later, someone grabbed her, preventing her from crashing into the flagstones below.

  Instinct told her who it was before she even opened her eyes and looked up into the Max’s handsome face.

  “Look at that, Paige. You’ve got a hero,” Hal said, rushing over to check on her. “He saved you.”

  With Max’s help, Paige regained her footing with care and then slowly extricated herself from his arms. She didn’t want to think about what almost happened. She could have been badly hurt if her fall hadn’t been broken. Slamming into the flagstone tile floor definitely would have been painful.

  But she didn’t want a hero. In fact, a hero was the last thing she wanted.

  Still, he had saved her, so she smiled at Max, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. “Thank you,” she said, moving away as quickly as possible.

  As she headed back toward the kitchen, she heard him chuckle and say, “Anytime.”

  2

  Max leaned back in his chair and watched Paige once again disappear behind the counter in the bar. All afternoon, she'd avoided him. Sure, she'd brought him another beer and his dinner when he'd ordered it, but other than that, she'd kept her distance.

  She was suspicious of him. He knew it. So if he didn't want her to run, he needed to do something to make her trust him. In his experience, the only way to change someone's mind was to do the exact opposite of what they expected. As soon as she'd walked away this last time, he'd reviewed what he knew about Paige in his mind. She was rich. Probably a little spoiled. But not stupid.

  Definitely not stupid. Okay, so she didn't know how to disappear so no one would find her. Not unusual. Most honest people didn't.

  No, Paige wasn't stupid, which meant there was a big chance she was going to run again.

  That would be the smart move, but of course, that was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't about to chase her all over the country. He'd have to ge
t her to stay put, then let her father know he'd found her.

  So now he had some soothing to do. He stood and wandered inside the bar. There was no sign of Paige, but based on what the skinny red-haired guy behind the bar was saying to someone back in the kitchen, she was taking her dinner break.

  Max pulled up a bar stool and looked at the bartender.

  “Know where I can find a job?” he asked.

  The guy gave Max the once-over, then asked, “Know how to make a Blue Angel?”

  Max resisted the temptation to smile. Instead, he said flatly, “Blue Curacao, Creme de Violette, brandy, lemon juice, and creme.”

  The guy leaned against the counter. “Grasshopper?”

  “Green Creme de Menthe, White Creme de Cacao, heavy cream.”

  “Fuzzy Navel?”

  “Orange juice and peach schnapps.”

  “Naked Russian Sailor.”

  Max frowned at him. “Cute.”

  With a laugh, the man reached across the counter and shook Max's hand. “The name's Hal, and if you can mix 'em the way you remember them, you've got a job. Come over to this side of the bar and show me what you can do.”

  Max headed to the other side. When he'd first gotten out of the Marines and hadn't started his business yet, he'd mixed drinks one summer.

  As he worked, he subtly pumped Hal for information about Paige. Not that it took any work. The guy was a regular volcano—once he got going, he spilled everything he knew about life in general and Paige in particular.

  She worked afternoon shifts and the night shift. She'd started working there about a month ago. Hal knew she lived a couple of miles from the café in a nice house, but he had never been to her place. An older woman named Alma, who was working in the kitchen, hollered out that she'd been to Paige’s place and it was nice, which caused Hal to yell back that kitchen help was to be seen, not heard.

  Max filled a couple of drink orders while the couple verbally sparred back and forth. Man, this was one crazy place. Even the crowd was odd. Cowboys and families, teenagers and senior citizens. Every imaginable group was here. All of them seemed to be having the time of their lives hanging out in a café decorated to look like something out of the 1950s.

  After Hal finished his shouting match, he grinned at Max. “Anyway, like I was saying about Paige, lots of men hit on her. In fact, a couple of regulars hassle her almost every weekend. But she never goes out with any of them. Ever.”

  Hal narrowed his eyes in what Max had to assume the other man thought was a menacing look but actually was a little cross-eyed. “But you were chatting with that Kylee earlier, so you're not interested in Paige.”

  Okay, now Max was officially lost in this convoluted conversation. “Excuse me?”

  “The brunette woman you were talking with earlier. Her name is Kylee,” Alma hollered from the kitchen. “You shouldn’t flirt with two women at the same time.”

  It took a couple of seconds for Max to realize the couple was talking about the woman who'd sat at the table next to him. He'd only said a word or two to her as a way to distract Paige. He'd hardly noticed the woman, and they hadn’t introduced themselves.

  “I was just being nice,” he said to Hal, who made a snorting noise.

  “Paige isn’t interested in a bad relationship, so you steer clear if you're not sincere. Or else, you'll answer to me,” Hal said.

  “Me, too,” came the response from the kitchen. “And my brothers. I have lots of brothers.”

  Max bit back a grin on that one. Instead, he assured the couple, “I'm not interested in hitting on Paige. I just want a job.”

  “Which you have,” Hal said, slapping him hard on the back. “And I'm glad to hear you're not interested in Paige. She's just about the best waitress I've ever met. Plus, she helps me with the books. She even managed to upgrade my computer system and everything. The lady's amazing,” Hal pronounced, leaning back against the counter and watching Max fill a drink order for a group of seven. “And you're a pretty good bartender. Guess I'm one lucky guy.”

  “You always hire people on the spot?” Max was amazed anyone these days could still be so trusting. “Seems dangerous.”

  “People lie on their applications, anyway,” Hal said with a shrug. “So I go with my instincts. My instincts tell me you're on the level.”

  Max barely managed not to laugh. Him? On the level? Hardly.

  “I appreciate the chance,” was all he said.

  And he did. This job was great cover. Now all he'd have to do was make sure his schedule lined up with Paige's. It would make watching her that much easier.

  He'd made quite a few drinks and shot the breeze with Hal and Alma for some time when Paige returned from her dinner break. As soon as she saw him behind the bar, she skittered to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, the color draining from her face.

  “Working.” He wiped the bar, keeping his voice flat and neutral.

  Her expression made it clear she'd rather be set on fire than have Max work at the Honey Café. She turned to Hal. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  Hal shrugged. “Sure. Talk. But make it quick. I want to go to dinner since Max has the bar.”

  Paige looked at Max and then back at Hal. “Alone. I'd like to speak to you alone.”

  With a small bow, Hal teased, “A boss' job is never done.”

  Max couldn't help feeling sorry for Paige. She obviously didn't want him here, but his job made it imperative that he stay. Knowing the best thing he could do was appear uninterested in her, he walked away.

  Behind him, Max heard Hal ask Paige what she wanted. Before she could answer, Alma came out from the kitchen.

  “I've had the best idea,” Alma announced to everyone in general. “I can't believe how amazing I am.”

  Hal groaned. “And you call me insane. Sounds to me like you're delusional.”

  “Ha, listen to my idea.” Alma paused, then spread her arms wide. “I say we have Paige and Max plan the Midsummer Night Extravaganza this year.”

  Hal yelled “Yes!” and Max's hand flew to his belt where he normally carried his gun. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice since they were staring at Hal.

  “That's brilliant,” Hal told Alma. “You're right. You are amazing.”

  Max looked at Paige, thinking she might have a clue what was happening. Personally, he didn't like the sound of this.

  “Midsummer's Night Extravaganza?” he asked.

  “Every July fifteenth, we take over the parking lot and have a huge party,” Alma said. “It's a blast. We celebrate the best of a Honey, Texas, summer.”

  Hal grinned, first at Max, then at Paige. “This year, you two get to plan it. Alma and I will get back to you with details.”

  With that, the couple disappeared into the kitchen, talking as they went about how brilliant they were. Max stared after them for a moment, then turned to look at Paige. She was flushed. He knew she was upset, so to take her mind off her troubles, he asked a question to which he already knew the answer.

  “Do you know what they're talking about?”

  She shook her head. “No. And I'm not sure we're going to like it.”

  “I'm positive we're not going to like it,” he said. He wiped the counter a couple of times. He could feel her watching him, knew she was debating about him. When he finally glanced up, she quickly looked away.

  “I really appreciate Hal giving me this job,” he said. “But I was surprised he hired me on the spot. Does he do that a lot?”

  Paige shrugged. “More often than not.”

  “Seems kind of risky,” Max pointed out. “Do his instincts usually pay off?”

  She looked him dead in the eyes. “Sometimes. I guess time will tell in your case.”

  Then she walked away, leaving Max smiling behind her.

  Paige glanced around, then unlocked the door to her rental house and turned off the alarm. Everything looked normal. Perfectly normal. No one jumped out from behind the shrubs outside
. No one was peering in the kitchen windows. Her little house seemed fine. A haven.

  She just hoped it stayed that way. Maybe she was wrong, and no one was chasing her. At least not anymore. Nothing unusual had happened since she'd come to Honey over a month ago. Maybe her life really was getting back to normal. Surely the press had moved on by now. There were more recent scandals to exploit.

  Still, she relocked the door and reset the alarm. Then she whistled for Sugar. The dog came bounding out of the spare bedroom, her tail wagging like a windshield wiper in a bad storm.

  Paige knelt and patted the mutt. Sugar didn't look like a guard dog. She looked friendly, a fluffy cloud of white fur. Paige had chosen her at the rescue shelter for that very reason. Sugar might not look tough, but she was. Well, at least her barking sounded tough. Paige hoped that if she was ambushed, Sugar and her impressive barking would send any photographers scurrying away.

  Paige finished patting the dog and headed toward the kitchen. She was tired. Really tired. Not because her shift at the Honey Café had been difficult. But it had been troubling since she wasn't sure if the new guy Max was what he appeared to be. Maybe he really was just a nice guy looking for a job. Or maybe he was a tabloid reporter trying to lull her into confiding in him.

  This was no way to live. She was never sure who she could trust. Max seemed like a nice guy. Everyone at work liked him. But she didn't know if she could trust him. Heck, she didn't even know if she could trust anyone at the Honey besides Hal and Alma, which was why she'd never gotten close to her co-workers.

  But living like this was wearing her down. She wanted friends. She wanted to trust people. She wanted her old life back, and nothing suspicious had happened since she'd been in Honey. That had to mean something, didn't it?

  She could call her father and ask him to speak to Adam. If both men stopped talking to the press about what happened, the story would die. After a second, she scratched that idea. Roger Delacorte wouldn't listen to her. He'd wanted her to marry Adam. He'd liked the idea of having a professional baseball player in the family, so she knew he'd say whatever it took to get her to come home.