by Tara Rose
“Ah, okay. Sure,” said Van. “Bring me the same, Dan.”
“Me, too,” said Jeff Masterson and Darrell Simpson, at the same time.
“I got no one to cook for me at home,” said Larry. “But no pickles, okay?”
Dan looked like he’d just won the lottery. “Sure, sure, okay. Anything you guys want. Coming right up.”
Maverick swallowed the doughy onion ring he’d just tried to chew then glanced around the table. “You guys just made his whole month.”
Van nodded as he sent a text on his phone. “Rowena is going to make fun of me for being so nice and eating this food. I’ll be up all night with indigestion and she’ll laugh at me for it.”
“It was still a nice thing to do.”
Larry shrugged. “Dan is a good guy, and we stick together in this town.”
Maverick nodded. “I noticed that. That’s why I like it here so much.”
Felix Santiago nodded. “It’s a good place. I lived in Grand Junction for a while, but I came back here.”
“And I’m glad you did,” said Van. “No one knows plumbing like you do.”
“Yeah,” said Curt Sanders, clapping Felix on the back. “We call him the toilet king.”
The group laughed good-naturedly, and talk turned to the current job they were on. When one of them mentioned Nash Stonecraft’s house, and how he was thinking of doing yet more remodeling, Maverick listened closely as he heard Trace Coleman’s name mentioned.
“What’s going on with him?” asked Maverick. “I heard his name all over town today.”
“Same old, same old,” said Van. “But at least now Tommy is digging into his background some more.”
“Why’s that?”
“Nash found some stuff in his basement that ties in his grandfather, Dalton’s grandfather, Carma Mandanici’s great-uncle and Jason Monroe’s grandfather. Seems the four were behind most of the stories of buried treasure in this town.”
Maverick glanced around the group. Jason Monroe was the one member of Van’s crew missing. “Where is Jason tonight?”
“He never goes out with us,” said Jorges. “Keeps to himself a lot.”
“That’s fine with me.” Van’s lips were drawn into a tight line, and his voice was clipped. “Especially after finding out he’s related to Trace Coleman.”
Dan brought their food, and Van waited until he’d gone back behind the bar again before leaning in close to speak again. “He and Trace are third cousins, or something like that. We found out this weekend.”
“What are you going to do about it?” asked Maverick, finishing the last of his onion rings.
“Nothing. Tommy told me to sit on it and just watch him.” Van took a bite of his burger and glanced around the table. “We all are going to do that.”
“It must be uncomfortable working with him, knowing this.”
“It is. But if we tip our hand, we risk not finding out what Trace is really after this time around.”
The men ate, and Maverick reflected that while none of them seemed to be enjoying the food too much, they didn’t look like they were going to be sick, either. He glanced at Dan, who watched them all anxiously. Maverick gave him a thumbs-up sign, and Dan smiled. Poor guy. This bar was his entire life, apparently. Maverick made a mental note to come in here more often.
As the guys were finishing up their meals, small talk moved away from Trace Coleman and onto other subjects. Maverick glanced up as the bell over the door rang and stared at the man who’d just walked in. It was the blond dude from Faye’s Bakery that had been listening to him and Felicity.
He sauntered over to the bar, and after Dan put a beer down in front of him and tried to make small talk, the stranger glanced around the room. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he spotted Maverick, and at first Maverick thought the guy was going to bolt, but then he just returned Maverick’s stare. Who the fuck was this guy?
“Do you guys know that man?” He spoke softly to Van, but a few of his crew also heard him above the conversation, and glanced toward the bar. The guys shook their heads and indicated they’d never seen him before.
This was ridiculous. Maverick rose, taking his empty plate with him as an excuse to bring it to the bar. Dan started to apologize all over himself but Maverick cut off his words, handing him the empty plate. “You’re alone here. It’s nothing, Dan.” He sat on the stool next to the stranger and stuck out his hand. “Saw you earlier in town. I’m Maverick Orantes.”
“Kane Easton.” Kane shook his hand with a firm grip.
“You new in town?”
“Just passing through.”
“On your way to where?”
The corners of Kane’s mouth turned up. “Salt Lake City.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you come over and join us?” He nodded toward Van and his crew, some of whom were watching him and Kane with curious looks on their faces. “Because I got the distinct impression you were listening to me and Felicity in the bakery. If you’re looking for something or someone, all you have to do is ask.”
Kane stared at him for a few moments with a dark expression in his blue eyes, and then the corners of his mouth turned up again. “That’s what I love about small towns.”
“What’s that?” asked Maverick.
“You all stick together.”
“Yes, we do. So come over and talk to us.”
Kane slid off his stool and picked up his beer. “All right.”
Maverick pulled another chair over so that he could sit between Kane and Larry, and then Kane was introduced to Van and his crew. Maverick told them what Kane had said to him at the bar about passing through on his way to Salt Lake city.
“So, what can we help you with?” asked Van, eyeing Kane suspiciously.
Kane drank half his beer and then glanced around the table with a bemused expression on his face. “Well, I came here to find someone, and when I found out he was in Passion Peak, I drove here.”
“Sounds like you’re a bounty hunter,” said Larry. “Are you hunting down a criminal?”
“Is it Trace Coleman?” asked Johnny. Everyone laughed. “Hell, if that’s who it is, we’ll gladly hand him over to you.”
Kane grinned, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “It sounds like everyone in town already knows he’s not really a ghost hunter.”
Van snorted. “He’s the biggest fraud around. He was here three years ago, doing the same thing he’s doing now. Trying to get into historic homes and buildings to look for money and stocks buried in the walls. Mafia money, supposedly.”
Maverick watched a muscle in Kane’s jaw twitch. He knew this story already. He didn’t know how he knew, but Maverick could see the truth in Kane’s eyes.
“That’s what I’ve heard, too.”
“No shit,” said Johnny. “You’ve heard of him?”
“A lot of people have. He’s left a trail of stories like this around the country.”
“So is that why you’re here?” asked Maverick. If he knew the story already, why was he in town looking for Trace? Had he been burned by him? Was he a reporter? He’d never actually answered Larry’s question about him being a bounty hunter. Was he a nutjob looking for revenge? And if any of that were true, and his real reason for being here was Coleman, was that why he’d been listening to them in the bakery?
The corners of Kane’s mouth turned up, and then he finished his beer. There was something almost predatory about the look in his eyes, and Maverick was reminded of the look on Nevada’s face earlier when he’d become so upset at Maverick’s quip about the Sleepy Cat legend.
“No one in this town seems averse to talking about paranormal phenomena,” said Kane, glancing around the table. The hair on the back of Maverick’s neck prickled, though he didn’t understand why.
“We have our share of secrets in town,” said Van.
“I’ve noticed.” Kane let his gaze sweep around the table
once again. “So tell me something. How do you feel about shifters? Because I think I found at least two, right here in town.”
Chapter Four
Felicity was four hours into her shift, and she was already exhausted. They seemed extra busy tonight and she was having trouble concentrating on her work. Or, it might be because she was watching the clock, waiting for the end of her shift when Maverick would be picking her up to drive her home.
She’d just finished basting the last batch of sweet bread with her special beaten egg mixture and was about to place the pan into the oven when Shawn Gentile, one of the servers, popped into the kitchen to tell her that a stranger was in the dining room, asking to meet her.
“What? Why?” She closed the oven door and set the timer then brushed her hands over her apron. It was already covered in flour and egg, so what was a little more grime?
Shawn shrugged. “He loves the sweet bread.”
Felicity rolled her eyes. “I’m so damn busy tonight.”
“I know, but he’s really cute. Big blue eyes.”
She laughed. “Then why don’t you go talk to him, Shawn?”
This time, it was Shawn who rolled his eyes. “Not cute like that. He’s straight.”
She took off her apron and glanced in the mirror above the sink as she washed her hands. Her hair was a mess and she had a streak of flour across her nose. “How do you know that?”
“We can tell, Felicity.” Shawn stepped in front of her and tore a piece of paper towel off the roll, then cleaned the flour from her face. “There. That’s better.”
“Wow. He must be really gorgeous if you think I need to primp first. Who is he?”
Shawn tossed the paper towel in the trashcan beneath the sink. “No clue, but get out there before Tiffany has him for dessert. She’s been eyeing him for half an hour. Come on. I have his table tonight. I’ll show you who he is.”
Felicity hung her apron on a hook by the sink and chuckled as she made her way into the dining room behind Shawn. He and Tiffany Fuentes were two of her favorite servers, and she was always happy to work when they were on. They didn’t give her any shit about how long she took to make something, and they kept her laughing with their easy humor and quick jokes. She followed Shawn into the crowded dining room. It always amazed Felicity how people could eat such a heavy meal so late and still sleep.
It was just after eight, and they would be busy like this until they stopped seating people at midnight. During the week they stopped seating at nine, but there were usually still a few customers in the restaurant when they closed at eleven. The only reason she never worked past ten or eleven on Saturdays was because she had to be back by ten on Sunday mornings.
Felicity stopped in her tracks and stared at the man Shawn was talking to. It was the stranger from the bakery, and he was still dressed as he’d been this morning. There wasn’t a dress code here, but neither would Bev Cameron, the hostess and owner’s wife, allow anyone inside who was dressed like a slob. A quick glance around the dining room told her that while the man wasn’t the only patron wearing jeans, most of them were dressed far less casually than he was.
Had he followed her, or was it only coincidence that he was here? She forced herself to walk toward the table as his eyes watched her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. When she reached the table, he stood for a second and stuck out his hand. She shook it, only because people were watching them and she didn’t want to appear rude.
“At last we meet,” he said. His voice was warm and rich, and it washed over her like summer rain, evoking images of lazy nights and easy, comfortable times relaxing on a deck or a porch to watch the world go by.
When he took his seat again, Shawn pointed toward his plate, where no less than three pieces of her sweet bread sat. Next to that was a cup of coffee, still steaming hot. “Kane Easton, this is Felicity Featherstone, our pastry chef extraordinaire. Kane had the beef tips for dinner, and when he tasted the bread, he begged me for more to have as dessert.”
Had she mentioned working here or making sweet bread while in the bakery? No. She had not. “Thank you, Kane. I hope that means you’re enjoying it.”
“Immensely. That’s why I asked to meet you. Do you share your recipe?”
“Never.” She did, but not with people she didn’t know.
“What a shame.” He leaned back in his chair with as much nonchalance as if he were home in his living room, shooting the breeze with a best friend. She couldn’t tell if he was just that cocky, or one of the bad boys to whom she’d always been attracted. From the way her nipples were suddenly tingling, she suspected it might be the latter. “I was hoping to taste more once I left here tonight.”
Shawn cleared his throat and glanced around. “I need to check on another table. Are you all right for now, Kane?”
Kane nodded. “I’m fine, Shawn. Thanks.”
Felicity watched Shawn walk away then glanced at Kane. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Kane, but I also need to get back to work.”
“I understand. Lots of desserts to make tonight, right? That carrot cake looks tempting.” As his gaze roamed over her messed-up hair, Felicity resisted the urge to smooth it down. “I always did like red things.”
Oh shit. How she wished her face wasn’t becoming warm right now, but really, how could she help it? “It’s really good. Let Shawn know if you want some. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”
“Any chance of getting your phone number, Felicity? Maybe we can get together and talk recipes sometime.”
Well, at least he didn’t play coy. She liked that, actually. “All right.”
He handed her his cell phone and she put in her number, wishing her damn fingers would stop trembling. When she handed it back to him, their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a shock wave of electricity up her arm. This guy was trouble, with a capital “T” but she liked it. “Just curious about one thing, Kane.”
“What’s that?” His eyes were so blue in this dim light, that she swore they almost glowed.
“You were listening to me and Maverick in the bakery. I could tell. What was so fascinating about our conversation?”
“I’m interested in your charming little town, and I was hoping to catch your name.”
She smiled and shook her head slightly. “Really? That’s it?”
His grin sent a gush of wetness to her panties. Was it possible she’d misjudged him in the bakery? He seemed harmless right now. A bit assertive, but she preferred men who were. “That’s it, Felicity. Scout’s honor.”
“Well, all right then. Welcome to town, and make sure you ask for a doggie bag to take the sweet bread home. It stays fresh overnight, at least.”
“Good to know. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
She turned around and didn’t have to glance over her shoulder to know he was watching her as she headed for the kitchens.
When her shift ended, Kane was no longer in the dining room, and a text message from Maverick told her that he was already in the parking lot, waiting for her. What an interesting day this had turned out to be. Two gorgeous men vying for her attention at the same time.
Felicity only wished she could run home and grab a shower and change her clothes before sliding into Maverick’s truck again. She smelled like grease and flour, as she did every night after working. But he didn’t seem to mind as he opened his passenger door for her and waited until she’d climbed in to close it. She turned in her seat to face him as he put the truck in gear and drove out onto Sandcherry Road. “So, what did you do after you dropped me off?”
“Well, I ended up having a very interesting evening.”
“Oh? Tell me about it.”
“I had dinner at The Saloon—”
“And you’re not in the ER with food poisoning?”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not bad? Maverick, if you wanted to eat dinner, you should have come to work with me.”
His grin
made her pulse race. Did this man know how sexy he was? Both he and Kane were. She felt like she’d just won the lottery.
“And what would you have done? Feed me scraps out the back door?”
She couldn’t help but laugh as an image from Lady and the Tramp rose up in her mind. “We could have set up a little wicker table with a candle in the middle, right out in the parking lot.”
“Oh, I like that. But is their spaghetti any good?”
She loved that he was obviously thinking of the same movie scene as she was and was playing along with it. “It’s to die for. And of course we’d have dessert, courtesy of me.”
He gave her a long, searching look as he turned onto Arapaho Lane, as if weighing his words. “I’d say something right now, but I’m not sure how you’d take it.”
“Say it anyway.” Her heart fluttered. She had no idea where this sudden compulsion had come from, and she didn’t care. She was so damn lonely and horny. Having Kane show up tonight to hit on her hadn’t helped any.
Sure, she had great friends like Summer and Winona Austin, but Summer was in knee deep with Dalton Metcalf and Wes Danbury now, and Winona wasn’t here. Maverick was. It had been far too long since Felicity had simply run with an instinct. She might get her heart broken, but then again, she might not. Maverick and Kane didn’t seem like the creeps she was usually attracted to.
“Okay.” He turned into her driveway and put the truck in park. “I was going to say I wouldn’t mind having you for dessert.”
That was the second time tonight she’d been compared to something sweet and decadent, but she liked it. Felicity stared into his dark eyes, spellbound. It had been so long since she’d had sex, she was afraid it might hurt like hell, but right now she didn’t care. She couldn’t even say what it was about this guy that drew her in and let her throw caution to the wind like this, but suddenly she didn’t care.
She hadn’t just met him today, after all. They’d danced around each other and flirted all evening on Labor Day at Pacos Farms, and after Felicity had grilled Dalton for half an hour, she learned that Maverick was a good guy. He wouldn’t use her and then toss her aside as others had done. She wasn’t as sure about Kane, but Kane wasn’t here right now. Maverick was.
