by Ava Miles
Yes, he knew about that desire to belong. Both of them had lived on the outside for most of their lives before finding the passion that transformed them—his home was in the kitchen, hers in the poker dens where fortunes were made and lost.
For a while, she’d wanted to belong to him and ignore everything she’d ever come to know about betrayal and loss and fear at the hands of a man. But her fear had proved too powerful.
“I should go,” he finally said and stood.
She rose and walked him to the front door. Her hands seemed to hang awkwardly by her sides as she watched him pull on his hiking boots. Part of her wanted to reach out and embrace him, just one more time, so she could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her cheek, smell his scent of spicy, erotic cologne mixed with the aromatic smells from his kitchen.
But she couldn’t.
When he touched his finger to her cheek, doing what she could not, her heart rapped hard in her chest, and she had to clench her fists at her sides not to reach for him.
“I was so mad at you,” he whispered, tracing her cheek. “I thought for sure we were going to go eight rounds tonight, but seeing you scared—whether it was me or someone who frightened you— made all of that disappear. I don’t know Elizabeth Saunders like I did Vixen, but I want to. I hope we can at least be friends. We have plenty of friends in common, and it’s a small town. We did pretty well at that before.”
Her regrets hung heavy in her belly. “I like the idea of us becoming friends again.”
“Friends it is.”
He held out his hand to seal the pact with her, but when their hands met, he held hers longer than necessary. When he released her, she rubbed her palm on her pajama pants to erase the tingling sensation there.
“I’m sorry I left you like I did, Terrance. You’re right. You deserved more from me.”
The side of his mouth tipped up, his scar wicked sexy. “Well, it seems we’re going to begin anew. I’ll see you around. Elizabeth.”
The way he said her name with his sin-chewing-marbles voice, one she’d never imagined to hear cross his lips in person, made her sway forward.
A special light came into his eyes. “Good night.”
When he walked out, she closed the door and slumped against it.
Vixen might have come to terms with never being with Terrance again, but Elizabeth Saunders clearly hadn’t.
Chapter 3
The town’s most popular coffee shop, Don’t Soy with Me, was Elizabeth’s favorite place to meet up with Jane these days. Her friend’s fiancée was running for mayor, so Jane was often downtown helping Matt’s campaign staff. The primary election for mayor was on May 1, less than a week away. The coffee shop, owned by Matt’s cousin Jill Hale who now worked for Mac with Terrance at The Grand, was the perfect place for them to rendezvous. Like usual, it was bustling with locals, students from Emmits Merriam University, and transplants like herself. The music playing over the speakers was bluesy, the atmosphere vibrant with its red and yellow accented walls, and the coffee and food were downright decadent.
“Hey,” Jane said as she gave Elizabeth a half hug and dropped down in the empty chair at the table Elizabeth had been lucky enough to snag.
“Hey, back,” she replied, not wanting to burst out the news that Terrance freaking Waters had finally come by her place last night. If she did, they’d never get coffee and food. “Let’s leave our stuff here and get in line to order.”
They hung their jackets on the chairs and took their place in the long line. Elizabeth smiled at a few college boys who were staring at them. They were attracting a new kind of attention now that the whole town knew they’d been Raven and Vixen.
“So, how’s the campaign going?” Elizabeth asked.
“We’ve pulled far enough ahead of the competition to feel cautiously optimistic.” The grin on her face suggested more than that.
“Good! Telling the truth about Vixen and Raven is working out for all of us.” There had been some concern that Jane’s secret identity would ruin Matt’s chances at winning the election, but they’d come clean with the information before the competition could, giving him the upper hand.
Jane grabbed her hand. “Don’t you feel freer? I mean, except for when people stare at us like those boys over there. Did I tell you one of the kids at Emmits Merriam actually had the gall to tell me there was no way he believed I was Raven?”
“You’re kidding.” At least Terrance had said it more diplomatically. “If only men had to dress up with padded bras and six-inch high heels.”
“I know! The world would be a much better place. I’m sure of it.”
They reached the front of the line. “Hey, Margie,” Elizabeth said. “How are you?”
“Great! How are you two? Jane, everyone’s so happy to see Matt pulling ahead in the election.”
Don’t Soy With Me’s barista was sweet and knew every local’s name by heart—the coffee shop’s trademark service. Margie also exchanged pleasantries with everyone who came to the counter. It usually created a long line, but the barista’s genuine warmth was one of the things Elizabeth loved about Dare Valley. People here knew her and cared about her. She was no longer anonymous.
“This is on me,” Elizabeth told Jane, since they took turns paying. “I’ll have a nonfat caramel macchiato, and my friend here will have…”
“A double chocolate mocha,” Jane added. “And can I have the special crepe with ham, mushrooms, and parmesan?”
“It’s awesome,” Margie said. “Had it for breakfast myself.”
“Okay, I’ll have one too.” It sounded too good to resist.
After she paid, they edged to the side to wait for their drinks.
“Jill told me she had to work on Brian big-time to get him to let her use his crepe recipe here for breakfast,” Jane said. “They agreed she could only serve crepes for breakfast since Brian has them on the lunch and dinner menus at Brasserie Dare.”
Jill was married to the chef-owner of the best restaurant in town. Well, maybe Terrance would change that. Seeing him go head-to-head with Brian McConnell was going to be interesting. She’d already heard the temporary menu at The Grand was impressive.
They took their coffees to their table, and Elizabeth knew she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Okay, I have to spill the beans. Prepare yourself. Terrance came to my house last night.”
Jane spewed out the sip of mocha she’d just drank, and Elizabeth angled to the right to elude the spray.
“He what?”
“Hold it together, Wilcox. People are staring, and as much as I love you, I don’t want your germs.”
Her best friend dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and cleaned up the table, her eyes huge in her face. “How could you not have called me?”
“It was close to midnight when he left. You were probably having sex.”
Her mouth twitched. “Yep. Most assuredly.”
It was a joke between them. Jane had lived like a nun before meeting Matt, whereas Elizabeth had been involved with lots of men. Now the tide had turned, and she was glad for her friend, who liked to flaunt it now that she had something to flaunt. She just wasn’t glad for herself. Man Fasts sucked. Especially now that a certain someone was dangling in front of her nose like Tantalus’ grapes.
“Back to Terrance.” She leaned forward and Jane did the same, like they were sharing a secret. “He said he was mad at me, but I got all scared when I heard his car pull up late, thinking it was Ryan—”
“Is he still bothering you? Dammit, Liz. I told you—”
“He’s harmless,” she said, praying it was true. So far Ryan only called and texted her every once in a while. There had been an uncomfortable encounter on the street one day, but he’d backed off. “Doesn’t matter, though, he still triggers me. Anyway, I got my baseball bat before opening the door. When Terrance realized I was scared and noticed the bat by the door, he said the fight went out of him. He made Bananas Foster to make i
t up to me, and then we just sat in the kitchen and talked about…oh crap, just stuff, like two old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. It felt good.”
“Oh crap,” Jane repeated. “Is the spark still there?”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow she’d plucked just this morning, realizing she wanted to be better groomed now that Terrance was around. Lord, when a woman started worrying about a thing like that, she knew she was in trouble. She was so in trouble. “Is the pope still Catholic?”
“Meaning you wanted to jump his bones? Ewww, it seems sacrilegious to talk about that after your pope comment.”
Now that made her laugh. “Yes, I wanted to jump his bones and dump my dessert on his rock-hard abs and lick it off.”
“Hey! TMI.”
Her best friend might flaunt her new love life, but she still blushed like a college freshman. Elizabeth knew from experience—they’d met in their first year at Harvard. “Like you and Matt don’t do the same thing.”
Jane leveled her a glance. “Anyway. How did you leave things?”
Sleep hadn’t come easy since her brain had kept cycling through their conversation. “I apologized, and he said he wanted to be friends, and I agreed.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Oh, and get this. He’s trying to stop swearing. He’s even charging himself a hundred dollars a word.”
Jane set her mocha down with a thud. “Are you sure the man who came to your house was Terrance Waters and not some shape shifter?”
The thought of Terrance changing into a wolf at night made Elizabeth laugh out loud, but it wasn’t too far off. There had always been an edge of danger around him. “I know! I was as shocked as you are.”
“Did he tell you why he’s working for Mac?” Jane asked.
As she filled Jane in, Elizabeth could only marvel at how much of a sucker she still was for Terrance’s sweetness. Yes, he could be a badass, but with her, he had always been so much more. After they’d gotten past the crazy, erotic first weeks of their…relationship, they’d started talking afterward and sleeping in the same bed and hanging out in the mornings. His defenses had come down, and so had hers.
“Primetime, huh? That’s huge. I mean I knew his show was pulling in serious ratings, but wow.”
“And he’s got that gourmet food and kitchen product line too,” she added. “I’m happy for him. He didn’t have it easy growing up.”
“I remember you telling me,” Jane said. Their food order had arrived in the middle of Elizabeth’s spiel, and Jane took a big bite of her crepe. “Every time I eat one of these, I swear if I close my eyes I’m back in Paris.”
“We should go,” Elizabeth said automatically, then bit her lip. “Sorry. Here you are, newly engaged, and I’m talking about girl trips.”
Jane grabbed her hand. “Stop. I told you. My engagement to Matt doesn’t change our friendship. Right now I can’t fly off to Paris with you, but we will.”
Some day. She took a bite of her own crepe and made herself smile.
Just then, she caught sight of Rhett walking into the coffee shop. Even though he no longer wore his trademark cowboy hat now that he was married to Abbie, he was still a head taller than most of the men in Don’t Soy With Me. His mouth broke into a huge grin when he spotted them, and he sauntered over like an old gaucho crossing a saloon.
“Hey, Margie,” he called out to the barista, who was drinking her own cup of coffee now that the line had finally cleared up. “How are you doing, honey?”
“Great. Good to see you, Rhett. Do you want your usual or something special?”
He stroked his chin. “Let’s go with my regular, but be a sweetheart and add some Tabasco to my eggs.”
“Sure thing, honey,” she bandied back easily.
Yeah, that was Rhett. Everyone in town loved him even though he stuck out in Dare Valley like an albatross in the desert.
“How’s my girls?” he asked in his typical Southern fashion as he bussed their cheeks.
They both gave him the thumbs up, which made him chuckle.
“Ma’am, do you mind if I take this chair over to my friends here?” he asked the woman at the table next to them. She blinked rapidly, no doubt caught off guard by his drawl and his handsomeness. “Not at all.”
“Thanks, you’re a darlin’,” he said with a wink, dragging it across the short distance to their table and plopping down in it.
“So the rumors are true,” Jane said to Rhett. “Matt told me you were coming in today to pick up some flyers to spread around town.”
“No way,” Elizabeth echoed.
If there was one thing Rhett was not, it was political. Something she had always liked about him.
“Yes, way,” Rhett replied. “I need to stand up for my girls now that everyone knows who you are. That, and I want to continue to make peace with Young Matthew by supporting him.”
Elizabeth snickered. “Matt hates it when you call him that, doesn’t he?”
“It’s what Uncle Arthur calls him from time to time,” Jane said.
Rhett waggled his eyebrows. “I’m just needling Matt a little bit since he’s managed to take away my poker scout and my sweet little dog.”
Now Jane rolled her eyes. “You gave Annie as a present, and you told me I had your blessing to pursue my own poker career.”
“I know, but there’s not much I can get into trouble for anymore being married and living in Dare Valley, so I have to get creative with my carousing.”
Carousing. Now that was a Rhett word if she’d ever heard one. He’d certainly done some carousing in the old days, and in some ways, so had she. Perhaps she was settling down too, and funny how it hadn’t taken marriage to do it. Just moving to this small town.
“Oh, we feel so bad for you, Rhett,” Elizabeth said, her voice teasing.
“I know. Everybody feels sorry for me. Some days it’s simply too much.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “But I have a surprise for you, Janey, and I’ve been bursting with excitement to share it.”
Rhett’s surprises could be wonderfully sweet or outrageously flamboyant. She and Jane shared a look.
“What is it?” her friend asked cautiously.
“I’m throwing your boy a private party at The Grand on election night to celebrate his impending win. It’ll be fun. Plus, I want to make the competition pea green with envy.”
“Rhett,” Jane said softly. “That’s really sweet. But Matt and I were going to spend election night with his family—”
“And what are we?” he asked, gesturing to Elizabeth and himself. “Chopped liver?”
“Of course not,” Jane protested, and Elizabeth could feel the growing pains of their little trio adjusting to new circumstances.
Margie brought over a steaming cup of coffee and an omelet dotted with hot sauce and took the credit card Rhett handed her. “Thanks, darlin’.” Turning back to Jane, he said, “All the Hales can come on up to Mac’s hotel, and anyone else you want to invite. I’ve arranged it with Mac so the restaurant will be closed for the night, and Terrance is going to cook up a feast. That boy sure knows how to cook, no offense to Brian.”
Rhett had always loved to throw parties. Heck, that’s how Elizabeth had met Terrance in the first place.
“What do you say, Jane? Let me do this for you two. Everyone will have a ball, I promise.”
Jane fished out her phone. “Okay, let me call Matt.”
When she stood and headed over to a corner for some privacy, Elizabeth almost rolled her eyes. She missed making impulsive plans with her friend.
Rhett dug into his omelet and made a humming noise with the first bite. “Checking in. Compromise. She’s not married yet, but it’s already beginning. I hope Young Matthew accepts my gift.”
“You’re only calling him that because he punched you in the face.”
Rhett sighed. “Probably, but he had his reasons, which is why I didn’t punch him back. It was hard on him, learning about Jane being Raven,
but he’s surprised me. No one could have stepped up to the plate better. They make a good pair.”
Elizabeth thought so too, even though it was changing her friendship with Jane. “That they do.”
“So how you handling Terrance being in town?” Rhett asked, taking a sip of his coffee, his poker face in full force now.
His directness rendered her speechless for a moment, and she fussed with the napkin in her lap to give her time to muster some impassivity of her own. “You knew?”
Not wanting to cause friction between Rhett and Terrance in case things went sour, she’d never breathed a word about their relationship.
He snorted. “Please. I was afraid I’d have to hose you two off at a couple of the parties I had in my suite.”
“But we never kissed in front—”
“Honey, you didn’t have to. You smoldered around each other like a gator being cooked up at an LSU tailgate.”
Dear God. Now that was an image.
Rhett chewed, moaned a little more, and then took a drink of his coffee. “Rye has to try this omelet the next time he comes to Dare. I swear, that boy is going to think he’s died and gone to heaven. It’s as light and fluffy as a feather.”
Their dear friend, country singer Rye Crenshaw, loved food more than anyone they’d ever met. It was no accident he was marrying his private chef in a few weeks.
“You’re acting like a mother hen.”
Rhett held out his knife. “Why don’t you just castrate me right here and now? A hen? I’m the biggest rooster in this joint.”
At least he hadn’t said cock. Pushing the knife aside, she laughed. “That blade is way too dull. And as for Terrance, you have nothing to worry about.”
“We’ll see,” he mused as Jane returned.
Elizabeth didn’t like the prophetic tone in his voice. Everything would be fine. Especially if Terrance agreed to wear a paper sack over his head in her presence so she wouldn’t notice how handsome he was. Oh, and he’d have to wear a burlap bag too, so she could forget how fabulous his body was.
