“Just the coffee,” he said with a nod as Rosie filled the empty mug in front of him.
“And the specials for you?” Rosie asked Gabriel. “We have chocolate almond, cantaloupe, and bacon with egg.”
“You got it,” he said.
He and Damon chatted while waiting, but as soon as Rosie came back with their food, it was like his friend wasn’t even there. He stopped listening to Damon drone on about butterfly populations or some shit, and concentrated on the delicious-smelling feast in front of him. What was it about these pies? He often wondered if Rosie put some kind of drug in them to make them addictive, though only he and his lion seemed to be unable to resist.
He quickly ate all the pies, with Damon rolling his eyes as he demolished them. His lion licked its lips, wanting more.
“They’re here,” Damon announced out of the blue.
Looking toward the door, he saw Anna Victoria and J.D., his other best friend, walk into the restaurant. As they always did, Damon and Anna Victoria instantly locked eyes, and it was like no one else existed in that moment.
A strange rush of envy passed through Gabriel. His lion, too, felt it and let out a whine. Stop being such a pussy, he told his animal. It had been doing that lately, whenever he was around the two.
“Everything go okay?” Damon asked as he made room for Anna Victoria on his side of the booth.
“Move,” J.D. groused at him. “I want to be next to the window.”
With a roll of his eyes, he got up to let her into the booth. J.D. had been one of his best friends since grade school, so he was used to her demeanor. She’d always been one of the guys—not fussy with her looks or clothes, but fiercely loyal, which was why he liked having her as a friend. Most people thought she was dating him or Damon. Gabriel had always thought she was pretty—even if she always dressed in oversized T-shirts and baggy jeans or overalls—with her messy blonde hair and hazel eyes, but they’d known each other so long, it would seem incestuous to date her now.
“Hey, ladies,” Rosie greeted as she came over. “Do you know what you want?”
“I hope you didn’t finish all of the special pies, Russel.” J.D. nodded at the empty plates in front of him.
“They might have one or two left,” he said. “Rosie my love, I gotta tell you, that cantaloupe pie was amazing.”
Rosie chuckled. “Is there any of the new pies you don’t like? You’re here a couple times a week now. People might start talking.”
“There’s just something about them …” He stared at the plates, still puzzled. “They all smell so good and taste heavenly. Like I’ve never known what food was like before.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to tell my girl you like her food.”
“Girl?” His lion’s ears perked up at attention. Rosie had mentioned the first time that she had a new employee making these pies. Why hadn’t he ever asked before? He swung his head back to the kitchen door. “So, your employee … is she still here?” he asked as his heart began to thud in his chest.
“Temperance?” Rosie’s auburn brows knitted together. “Maybe. She doesn’t usually leave until one or two but—oh, scuse me, kiddos.” She nodded at the new arrivals waiting by the door. “I’ll get your order in as soon as I seat them.”
Go. Now.
As if in a trance, he got to his feet, pivoting toward the kitchen. His lion roared, pushing him to move faster until he crashed through the kitchen door.
There was someone shouting behind him, but he couldn’t hear the words. He stood there, unable to move as his gaze fixed on … her.
The woman was bent over the large table, dark brows knitted in concentration as she pushed out dough on the surface with a rolling pin. He could only see part of her face as she was facing sideways. However, she must have just realized he was staring at her as she lifted her head toward him.
As their gazes met, a strong feeling smashed into him. It felt like being struck by lightning, burning the edges of his nerves.
Mine.
And at that moment, his world turned upside down.
Chapter Two
No, no, no!
This was not how it was supposed to happen.
In fact, this was not supposed to happen at all.
Temperance Pettigrew had been careful all these months, making sure she stayed inside the kitchen all the time, but especially when he was here.
He could never see her. Could never see her face.
She’d been so vigilant about keeping out of sight, watching him from behind the tiny window through the kitchen door, that holding onto the fluttering in her chest as he ate each slice of her special creations. Wanting, hoping … but staying far, far away.
And the other day had been too close of a call. She couldn’t help but watch him through the glass window, but then he stood and started walking toward her, and she knew she had to get away before he saw her. So, she dashed back to the pantry and hid, her heart hammering in her chest as she waited for him to leave.
He didn’t know her. Never could know her. But she knew him.
How could she not? All the waitresses whispered and giggled when he was around. Gabriel Russel. How many times had she whispered the name to herself, said it out loud when she was alone at night?
Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. When Rosie told her a few weeks ago that she had a “fan,” she was curious and looked out of the kitchen door window. Then she saw him.
Dark blond hair that glinted like bronze when sunlight hit it. A face like an angel. She didn’t know what color his eyes were, but now she knew. Blue like the sky on a clear morning.
But what was he doing back here?
“I …” She backed away, turning her face away from him. “You shouldn’t be here!”
He advanced toward her, and she retreated. That didn’t seem to deter him as he continued moving, which in turn made her keep going backward until her butt hit the sink.
“You …” It was a single word, but the timbre of his voice made every hair on her body rise.
She tucked her body in further, face turning away from him. “Please.” He couldn’t see. He could never know. “Please don’t.”
“I thought I was going crazy. I knew there had to be a reason … and now I know.” He reached out to her, but when she shrank away, he dropped his hand to his side. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Her throat burned even as a thrill went through her at the affectionate nickname. “You need to go.”
“Go?” He chuckled. “Why—”
“Gabriel Russel!” came a hiss from behind them. “What the hell are you doing?”
Temperance hoped he would turn around, and she could make her getaway, but Gabriel didn’t move a muscle. His imposing presence should have scared her, but it didn’t. God, he was so tall and large. She’d only seen him from far away, but having him here, mere inches away from her, he seemed even larger than life.
Not knowing what else to do, she peeked around his impossibly wide chest, making sure to keep the right side of her face hidden. She met the eyes of the woman standing in the doorway, instantly recognizing her as Gabriel’s companion who often came here with him. A stab of jealousy hit her chest, and she turned away.
“Are you keeping that poor girl—”
A growl rattled from Gabriel’s chest, and she jumped. Oh, she had heard about shifters—heck, all of the staff here except her was a shifter—but they didn’t exactly talk out in the open about it. She knew Gabriel had to be one, too, and her curiosity piqued, wondering what he was.
No! Stop wondering. He’s not for you. She had to get out of here.
“Look at me,” he said in a low voice that brushed over her skin like velvet. “Why are you hiding from me?”
A vice-like grip tightened in her chest. There was no escape now.
But there was one way to get out of this mess.
Just get it over with.
Slowly, she turned her face up to him, her body instinctively tensing.
Ready for the reaction. As their gazes met, everything went in slow motion.
His mouth turning up at the corners.
Then stopping halfway.
Sky-blue eyes widened.
And there it was.
The expression of horror on his face.
Why did I think he would be different?
Surely by now, she was used to that look—the disgust that came just before pity when they saw the horrible burn scars on the right side of her face.
When she met people for the first time, they gave her that look. In the last eight years, she’d learned to shrug it off and move on. But somehow, coming from him, it was worse, like the first time she’d seen the extent of the damage herself.
If he was disgusted with what he saw now, then she couldn’t imagine how he’d react if he saw the real extent of the damage.
Unable to continue being in his presence, she ducked away from him and then dashed toward the employees’ exit. Rosie would not be happy that she didn’t finish the day’s work, but right now, she just couldn’t be here. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself, and if she didn’t leave, she would have a breakdown.
The fresh air outside as she exited the building helped her to breathe, and somehow, she made it to her car. Quickly, she got inside and started the engine, thankful that she at least kept her car keys and wallet in her pockets. However, she was still wearing her apron, and her face and hair was still dusted with flour. The first thing she would do when she got home was take a shower.
It was a miracle she got home at all without crashing, as her hands were still shaking as she put the key into the door of her trailer. It was a thirty-minute drive from Main Street to the Sunshine Woods Mobile Home Park, but it was cheap, and her beater car managed the commute every day. Shutting the door behind her, she made a beeline for the shower, stripping her clothes off and pulling the pins out of her hair as she walked through the single wide.
The cold water felt cleansing as it blasted at her, but the tightness in her chest remained. Even as she closed her eyes, she couldn’t erase the memory of Gabriel’s expression when he saw her scars.
Water washed her tears away, but they continued to flow. Somehow, even after all these years, the hurt felt fresher now than it ever did before. She thought escaping her past would make it all go away. After all, starting fresh out here in Colorado meant there would be no reminders of Chicago. No reminders of the poor inner-city neighborhood where she grew up, of the various apartments and motels she shared with her mother and stepfather. And of course, the tragic event that scarred her for life and made her feel so worthless. Her self-esteem so crushed that she let someone isolate and abuse her because they gave her a morsel of affection she’d been craving all her life.
“It’s not your fault,” she said aloud.
Therapy and getting away from all of it helped a lot. But, oh, there were bad days, like today, that made her feel she would never truly forget or be free of the past. Not when she wore those reminders on her body.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself. As she passed by the sink, she froze. Normally, she didn’t bother to stop and look at her reflection, but an urge made her stop. Maybe she was turning into a glutton for hurt or because she couldn’t possibly feel any worse that she already did, but something in her made her want to confront her scars.
Slowly, she lifted her head to see the reflection in the mirror. When she had met other burn survivors the first few years after it happened, she knew it could have been worse. Some of them couldn’t even hide their scars as it covered and discolored their entire faces or bodies, while she could easily hide them with the right hairstyle and clothes. Her eyes, lips, and ears were left intact, but webbed skin covered most of her cheek, and there was a patch of scalp behind her ear where hair couldn’t grow. Her entire right shoulder and arm were covered in patches and scars that extended to just below her fingers. It was where most of the skin grafts were applied to ensure she would regain functionality and reduce the pain.
Her physical therapist helped her recover and even suggested she take up some kind of hobby to help the skin stretch and regain elasticity. That’s when she discovered baking, which not only helped her physically but also mentally. She finally found something she was good at, something that she could be proud of. But then, when she thought things were looking up, it seemed life was only setting her up for the next disaster.
Unable to keep on staring at herself, Temperance whipped her head away and dashed out to the small bedroom. She grabbed her robe from the hook on her closet and put it on, then used the towel to dry her thick, dark hair. She kept her locks long as it was easy to style it to hide the right side of her face and neck, while long-sleeved shirts hid the rest.
Satisfied that her hair was dry enough, she meandered out to the combination living–kitchen room and put the tea kettle on. The single wide trailer was small, but she kept it clean and added a few pieces of decor to make it more homey, like the large Monstera plant in the corner, a lamp and reading chair, plus new throw pillows on the worn couch. It wasn’t luxurious, but she loved it—loved being free, loved the independence of being able to do anything she wanted, whenever she wanted.
The kettle whistled, so she dropped a teabag into a mug and poured the hot water into it. After allowing it to cool for a minute, she grabbed the mug and then settled into her reading chair. Truly, she loved her life now; the last three months living in Blackstone had been an improvement over the last twenty-five years of her life. She was so thankful to get out of her last situation and that her boss at the bakery she worked for back in Chicago understood why she had to leave. They’d even referred her to a friend who ran a pie shop who was looking for help.
That’s how she found herself in Colorado. Blackstone was a nice town, not that she had any time to see it. Her hours were from five in the morning to one in the afternoon. After that, she went straight home and read or watched TV, then fell asleep after dinner so she could do it all over again the next day. Her life had a routine; it was boring, but at least it was her life.
A knock on the door shook her out of her thoughts. Who could that be? Probably those people from that church again. When they came last week, she’d been too polite to tell them to leave her alone, so she accepted the book they offered and nodded when they said they’d be back. The book still lay on her kitchen table, untouched.
The knocking became insistent, so with a deep sigh, she got up, grabbed the book, and walked over to the door, yanking it open. “Look,” she began, shoving the leather-bound tome forward. “You can take this—” Her heart stopped as she looked up into sky-blue eyes.
How long she stood there—mouth hanging open, saying nothing, book slammed up against his chest—she wasn’t sure. But it felt like an awfully awkward, awfully long time.
He flashed her a smile that made him look even more handsome.
Oh my God, he has dimples, she groaned to herself, because of course he did. When the good Lord showered the world with all the good-looking genes, his parents must have gone outside with buckets in their hands.
“Uh, hi,” he said. “Nice …” He glanced around, his gaze immediately dropping to the statue guarding the front door of her trailer. “Nice gnome.”
Chapter Three
Gabriel wanted to smack himself in the head. Nice gnome? Smooth, Russel. Real smooth.
But he didn’t know what to do or say because how were you supposed to talk to your mate?
Shock was an understatement to describe how he’d felt at that moment when his lion recognized her as his mate. It roared at him to claim her. Even as she backed away from him, it only excited that raw, primal part of him.
But then he sensed real fear in her—and that just wouldn’t do.
He needed her, to see her, know her. Why was she afraid of them? Why did she hide behind her dark mane of hair? His lion couldn’t understand it.
When she turned her face to him, he
was immediately struck by her clear hazel eyes. Light green with flecks of gold. He could stare at them all day, watch the light play in them. Wondered how they would look when she was happy. Or filled with desire while she was pinned under him.
Then he realized why she was turning away—those webs of scars on her cheeks. Burn scars likely, and he was suddenly filled with sadness because his mate must have endured so much pain. He could only imagine what it was like, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold her and tell her it was all going to be okay. Wanted to shield her from anything else in the world that could hurt her.
But then she ran away. From him.
Why? His lion roared with fury and confusion.
And frankly, he couldn’t figure it out either. Nor could he figure out what to say to her, so he decided to just continue with the absurdity that was slowly becoming his life. “Um, so, your gnome …”
“Huh?”
He cocked his head at the garden gnome next to the door.
“You mean, Fred?” she asked.
“Fred? That’s his name?” he asked incredulously.
“Is there a problem with Fred?”
“No—I mean, I was thinking he would have some kind of whimsical name. Like … Mr. Peablossom or some shit like that.”
“I’ve never really thought of it.” She crinkled her nose. “He just seemed like a Fred.”
“Have you always had Fred with you?”
“Kinda. I, uh, took him from my last house in Chicago, and he came here with me.”
“So, you’re from Chicago, huh?” he asked. “I’ve never been, but I heard they have good pizzas.”
“Wait a minute … How did you find me?”
There it was again; the fear in her voice. He could almost taste it in the air, and it made his lion mewl in distress.
When he didn’t answer, her dark brows snapped together. “D-did Rosie tell you—”
“No!” he immediately denied. “She wouldn’t do that—not to you. I have my ways.”
Rosie had been furious with him for scaring her away. “Gabriel Russel, what have you done?” she had fumed when she marched into the kitchen and realized Temperance was gone. “You scared my best employee away.”
Blackstone Ranger Charmer Page 2
