Savage in a Stetson (Crossroads Book 4)

by Em Petrova

  She slapped her hand over her throat. “I didn’t use any red.”

  “Maybe it’s a hickey?”

  She flushed as red as she suspected the mark Dom had left her with was.

  “Aunt Jada has a secret, CT. What do you think it could be?” she said in a singsong manner.

  “Your mommy always likes to tease her big sister. But I know a few tricks too, and I’ll teach them to you as soon as you’re old enough!” She kissed CT’s fuzzy head and nudged Joss’s shoulder. “See you later, sis.” She rushed out before her sister spotted more reasons to question her.

  As if she wasn’t confused enough about Dom. The man drove her up a wall, but on the other hand, she couldn’t stay away from him. One look and she melted into his arms.

  She needed to get a grip on herself, starting this minute. She’d pay him for the sign she’d vandalized and try her best to avoid him. With her busy lifestyle, that should be simple.

  Her mornings were spent running errands, spending time with her nephew or catching up with paperwork. But today, she went to her office and started digging into upcoming barbecue competitions. She found two local fairs with competitions to enter and a pit-master barbecue competition in the next town in a month.

  After her task was complete and she entered her name into all three competitions, she remembered that blue paint in her hair. She needed to get it out before Carolee spotted it and started asking questions. She’d already spent hours hosing out the bed of her truck, but the paint still marred several areas that no amount of scrubbing could get up. Served her right for losing her temper that way.

  She drifted out of her office and went into the small employee restroom. After twisting and turning, she located the blue streak toward the back of her head. How Joss had spotted it was anybody’s guess. Baby Cort better watch himself—his momma had eagle eyes and the boy would never get away with a thing.

  Leaning over the sink, she scrubbed the lock of hair with soap and water. Then she checked the progress. Much better, though she still saw a bit of a powder blue hue against the blonde. It would have to do until she got home and showered.

  She wondered if Dom was still finding blue paint on his body as well. When they emerged from their wild lovemaking, she saw that she got him with just as much paint, from his bare chest to a smear on his ankle. When he’d climbed out of the truck, she spotted her handprints on his carved ass and knew she’d won that battle fair and square.

  And today, he’d taken down his sign. Last she checked, he was out there painting over the entire thing with a heavy coat of the same blue paint she’d bought at the hardware store.

  On a whim, she dialed his number. He looked up toward her restaurant when his phone rang. “What wicked trick do you want to play on me today?” he drawled out.

  Her smile stretched her lips wide. “I wanted to offer my services. I’m very good at painting signs.”

  He grunted. “I know that. I think you also owe me six hundred bucks.”

  Her smile fell. Yeah, she kind of did. “I’ll be right over,” she said and ended the call.

  When she wrote a check and walked it across the road to him, he met her in the parking lot. His eyes twinkled as he dropped his stare over her. “Get all the paint off?” he asked.

  “Most of it. You?” She couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and stroke the rasp of beard growth on his jaw.

  His eyes burned as he gazed down at her. “Maybe you should inspect me for paint splotches.”

  She dropped her hand and twitched her hips as she turned to go. “Do us both a favor and hire another sign maker next time.”

  He chuckled. “I hope what you did was worth it,” he called out.

  She threw a look over her shoulder. “It was.”

  His bark of laughter followed her all the way to her restaurant door.

  * * * * *

  Dom eyed the food boxes he’d brought his grandpa. It seemed the man had devoured every last nibble of meat from the ribs and eaten the potato wedges too. The corn on the cob was a bit beyond the old man’s dentures, so it sat untouched, but he’d drank his sweet tea at least.

  “What’s for dessert?” he asked Dom.

  “Knew you’d ask for a slice of peach pie.”

  “Peach you say? Don’t mind if I do.” He took the box that Dom offered him and popped open the lid. He looked around for a plastic fork, which Dom produced from the carryout bag.

  “So business is going well?” Grandpa dug into the pie.

  “As well as can be expected for a new restaurant.”

  He looked up sharply. “Uh-oh.”

  “What’s uh-oh?” Dom echoed.

  “You should be booming. New businesses always come in strong and drop off, but you’re not very far from the starting gate. Want to discuss it?”

  Dom hadn’t felt too worried about the downtick in business after the initial weeks of his opening, but since Grandpa commented on it, his stomach knotted.

  Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and then looked up at his grandfather. “You think I should be concerned?”

  “Don’t you?” He looked at him with surprise, and not for the first time Dom wondered how much advice to take from a man in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s. But he seemed pretty lucid at the moment, speaking in this no-nonsense way that Dom always admired.

  “I’m not that worried, actually.” He sat back and rubbed the thickened skin of the scar on his jaw. Realistically, he was worried. He couldn’t fail at this and let down his promise to himself, his friend Jackson or his grandpa.

  “I have some ideas to draw in business,” Dom said.

  “Like what?”

  “Live music. There’s an all-girls country band in the area, and I can book them for a good price. After that, I thought I’d try out some other local talent, maybe have an acoustic night.”

  “I can get out my banjo.”

  Dom grinned. “You don’t play the banjo, Grandpa.”

  “Never too late to learn.” He polished off his pie and licked the tines of his fork clean. “Good pie. Next time bring me a piece that has more peaches.”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “I’ll do that. So what do you think of the live music idea?”

  “It’s thinking outside the box, son. Can’t hurt to try a few weeks and see what happens.”

  “My thought exactly.”

  “And the sign? What came of that? Did you bring me a picture?”

  “Actually, I did.” He took out his phone and flipped to the one he snapped of the big blue sign and his own hand-lettered restaurant name. He had no intention of buying a new sign or cashing the check Jada gave him. Honestly, he saw why she’d be so irate over them having the same sign, and he took the blame for not specifying that he wanted something completely different from hers. Bad-mouthing her brisket had been a low move, and a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  “Bold colors. Eye-catching.”

  “Thanks, Grandpa.” He pocketed his phone again.

  “Now time for the good stuff.”

  He arched a brow. “What good stuff is that?”

  “That pretty little nurse visited me earlier this week.”

  Dom straightened in his chair. “She did?”

  “Yep. I can’t tell you how much I miss seeing her smiles around this place.” He looked around his room as if missing it. Dom had to admit one of Jada’s smiles would go a long way for him right now too.

  “I’m glad she got time to stop and visit. She has a very full life. With her business and working as many if not more hours than I do.” Even if it was staying after to ruin his sign. “And she has a new nephew. Her parents were just up from Florida.”

  “She told me. Said they talked about you.”

  His brows shot sky-high. So Cort had said. “What about me?”

  “She told them all about how you set up a restaurant across the road from hers and you’ve been trying to run her out of business ever since.”

  “But that’s
not what I’m doing!”

  “She claims to make better brisket than you too.”

  He soured. “You better be making this up, Grandpa.”

  “Not a word. Heard it with my own ears.”

  He eyed his grandpa. Jada had trash-talked his brisket first?

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Dom asked his grandfather.

  “Beats me. Maybe you’ll believe me when I heard her say she still has feelings for you and probably always will.”

  “Now I know you’re telling me tall tales. Why don’t you share the one about the time you panned for gold in the mountains and came home with a pie plate full but that robbers stole it from you before you reached the town to cash it in.”

  He waved a hand. “That was pure Irish bullshit, son.”

  “You’re not Irish.”

  Their gazes met, and they both burst out laughing. Dom relaxed against his seat, realizing that he really was speaking to a man who had an altered view of the world from his disease. He would take the highlights of their visit and forget about the rest, especially the part about Jada claiming to have feelings for him. If he hung his hopes on such a thing, he’d never be able to recover from his own feelings for her. Not that he was doing a good job of burying them, when he couldn’t stay away from the woman.

  He stood and carried the empty food containers to the trash. When he returned to his grandpa and leaned over him to kiss his cheek, he patted Dom’s cheek. “You boys never shave nowadays. I know you wear that beard to cover the scar from bull riding. What are you hiding from?”

  Dom froze, heart thundering. He hadn’t told his grandfather about Jackson and had no plans to. Talking about it hurt too much.

  He dropped back to the seat across from his grandpa. The old man eyed him with his sharp eagle gaze.

  “Yeah, I know all about your buddy. Read about it. Sad loss for you and that wife of his.”

  Dom couldn’t speak through the lump lodged in his throat.

  Grandpa leaned forward, forcing him to meet his stare. “You have to shed that time of your life, leave those bad memories behind and move on. Find roots.”

  He resisted the urge to rub the scar that daily reminded him that he’d survived while his friend had taken a fall and lost his life.

  Grandpa skimmed his hand over his own smooth-shaven face. “Gotta let go and embrace what life gives you. Maybe that’s why I kept my Ellen as long as I did. Try it. See if I’m not right.”

  Straightening to his full height, he forced a grin at the older man. He had to leave before his emotions got the better of him. “I just might do that, Grandpa.”

  If only a shave was all it took to win him Jada.

  * * * * *

  “What are those fliers that Savage is hanging up all over his property?” Carolee poured a bottle of marinade over a pan of meat.

  “Beats me. I didn’t go look.” Jada spent so much time not looking across the road that she felt like it had become her part-time job. She passed Carolee a second bottle of marinade.

  “He’s got enough of them up. He must be having a sale or event.”

  She looked up toward the small window in the kitchen. An event? Maybe she did need to keep a better eye on what Dom was up to. After all, she hadn’t talked over the sign with him, and look how that turned out.

  It ended in her being covered in blue paint and panting from her release.

  She twisted her attention from the window and focused on her marinade. After she sealed the pan with aluminum foil and placed it into the cooler to work its magic, she set about cutting potatoes for mash. Having real mashed potatoes required a lot more steps, but her customers preferred them over Mortimer’s instant flakes from years past.

  When her delivery driver came in, Jada greeted her with a smile. “How are you today, Nicole?”

  “Fantastic! I just saw the fliers over at Savage’s for my favorite band.”

  Jada glanced up at Carolee. They exchanged a look. “Is that what the fliers are all about?”

  Nicole bobbed her head. “Yup, Saturday the band’s live over there. Do you think I could get that evening off?”

  She had to stifle a groan. She didn’t want to be one of those bosses who couldn’t give a young girl an evening off to see her favorite band, but it was the competition.

  “I’ll try to work the schedule around your request.” She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and walked out of the kitchen. In the dining area, several of her regulars were eating, and she stopped to chat and thank them for their business. Minutes later, she went outside.

  Across the road, Dom had plastered what looked to be every inch of his building in the fliers. He’d also strewn them between trees like little flags, and they flapped in the Georgia breeze.

  She crossed the road and stared at one flier tacked to the phone pole. Sure enough, five young girls with smiles on their faces and guitars in hand were on the bill for this coming Saturday.

  Just then, Dom walked out of his restaurant.

  Her stomach tilted like she’d just climbed onto a carnival ride. The way he wore that hat always did it for her. Would she ever get over him? The answer came at her with a big fat no. She loved the man, despite their differences and the impossibility of it all.

  And now they’d made themselves into rivals. Adversaries. Enemies. They might be able to ignore it long enough to let their animal hungers take over, but the next day they’d go back to being on opposite sides of the road.

  He caught sight of her.

  She waved a hand at the massive amount of fliers he’d taped up.

  With a wide grin stretched across his face, he raised one finger into the air and drew a point on the invisible scoreboard.

  Her jaw dropped. Did he just challenge her?

  She pointed to his sign and then drew her own point in the air. His grin broadened, and then he dipped his gaze over her in that slow, sexy way that told her he was recalling what had happened after she painted his sign—in vivid detail.

  Whirling around, she sashayed to the edge of the parking lot, looked both directions and then crossed, shaking her behind the entire way. She didn’t need to throw a look backward to know he was staring. She felt that dark grip of his gaze deep in the pit of her stomach.

  When she reached her own office, Carolee called out to her. “Is it true? He’s booked The Georgia Peaches?”

  Jada stood in the kitchen doorway and gave a nod. “It’s true. He’s got about seven thousand fliers up to prove it.”

  “Well, that will be a big draw to his restaurant,” Carolee said offhandedly as she rolled out the biscuit dough.

  Jada pursed her lips. “Yes, it will. But I have a few ideas up my sleeve too.”

  “The barbecue competitions?”

  She nodded. “And other things.” She just didn’t know what yet. “I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

  After she closed the door and settled behind her desk, she tapped her fingernails on the surface in thought. If entertainment really was the way to go, then she needed to do one better than Savage’s. Come Saturday night, every car in Crossroads would be parked at his restaurant, and she’d hear nothing but the strains of music rather than the clink of her cash register.

  What did people like? Car shows were big in the South, but she needed space in her parking lot for customers, so that was out. Music really was the way to go. Or the rodeo. Never could go wrong with the rodeo…

  She slapped her hand on the desk. “The rodeo!” She pulled her laptop toward her and did a bunch of social media searches for the top riders on the Tour. When she landed on one profile photo in particular, she sucked in a sharp breath.

  Could it be so easy to drive Dom crazy? Inviting his rival over to Mortimer’s to sign autographs would make him insane. But it was such a good idea.

  She messaged the bull rider with a proposal for him to sell autographed photos of himself, and she promised to have radio stations on site for interviews. Her whole reason for booking a ro
deo star was to drive business to her restaurant, right? Bugging Dom was an added bonus.

  While she waited for the reply, she threw her energy into her restaurant. As she spoke to people, did her part in the kitchen, took orders and took time to chit-chat with customers, a realization came over her.

  She had made the right career switch.

  She had to admit that feeding people and seeing them joined with their families around her table felt rewarding. She loved seeing smiles on her customers’ faces and knowing she had made their mealtimes brighter.

  Standing in the middle of her outdoor dining area, she shook her head in amazement.

  “Everything okay?” The deep voice edged under her skin, and she spun to see Dom standing there holding a stack of mail.

  “Um, yes. Fine. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to grab my mail and saw the postman delivered some of yours to my address.”

  “Oh.” She held out her hand to accept it, and he passed her several envelopes. “Thanks.”

  He continued to stand there staring at her, concern in his eyes.

  “Is that all?”

  “I saw you looking around like you were stunned or something. Are you all right, Jada?”

  She blinked up at him. “Yes. I am. I just realized something I hadn’t before.” She didn’t know why she was sharing this with the man.

  He searched her face as if he could pluck her thought out of thin air without her confiding the rest of it.

  “I realized that I’m happy that I took over Mortimer’s. I made the right life choice.”

  His clouded expression cleared like sunshine had chased away a gray day, and then his lips quirked at one corner, creating a mirror of a crease around one eye. “That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Jada.”

  She smiled back at him, and for a moment, she forgot that he wasn’t much more to her. They’d always been friends, though. Why couldn’t they be that now?

  “Well.” He tugged his hat brim in that all-American gentleman style of every good momma’s boy. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

  She threw out a hand and latched onto his arm. He went still, muscle steeling under her touch. “Thanks for listening to me, Dom. And for challenging me.”