by Robin Wells
He’d certainly gotten it from Katie eighteen years ago. The thought made her stomach tighten.
“Hello, Kate,” he said now.
Kate, not Katie. He’d been the first person to call her that, and at seventeen, it had been a heady experience. It had made her feel grown-up and worldly, as if she were an adult whose thoughts and opinions counted.
It had been a seriously bad delusion.
Still, the sound of her name on his lips made her heart patter like the rain on the salon roof, and it took a moment before she could make her mouth move. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I’m moving to Chartreuse, so I thought I’d come by and say hello.”
Katie felt as if the room had suddenly tilted. The women in the salon all murmured.
“So you’re the person moving into the old Ashton house?” Bev ventured.
“That’s right.”
Eula scrambled to her feet and thrust out her hand. “I’m Eula Belle Johnson—the Realtor who handled the property sale.”
Zack shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for doing such an excellent job.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure.” The older woman gazed up at him as if in a trance. She must have realized she’d been pumping his hand as if it were a tire jack, because she blushed and abruptly pulled it away. “So you’re associated with Winning Strategies, Incorporated?”
Zack nodded. “I’m the CEO.”
Lulu whirled around in her stylist chair and flashed an overly white, bucktoothed grin. “Well, welcome to Chartreuse! I’m Lulu.” She swept her hand around at the other women. “And this is Mrs. Street and Bev and Josie and Eula and Rachel. And apparently you already know Katie.”
Avoiding looking at Katie, he nodded and smiled at each of the other women. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zack Ferguson.”
Oh, God—how had Katie forgotten about his smile? He hadn’t even turned it on her, yet she felt it like a heat lamp. The appeal of Zack’s smile was more than the physical components of straight white teeth, deep-set dimples, and devastating crinkles at the corner of his blue, blue eyes; it was a force of nature, a lightning bolt of testosterone, a shot of pure sex appeal, and she wasn’t the only woman affected by it. Rachel spastically licked her lips, Josie looked as if she’d dived headfirst into a bucket of blush, and Eula was tugging on the ladybug scarf around her throat as if it was suddenly too tight. Even the retired librarian was fanning off a hot flash, and she was a good fifteen years past menopause.
A murmur of “Nice to meet yous” sounded around the room.
The librarian regarded him thoughtfully. “Zack Ferguson, the poker champion?”
He inclined his head. “I used to be. I no longer compete.”
“Oh, my husband idolizes you!” Mrs. Street gushed. “He has the whole series of your Play to Win CDs.”
The last time Katie had looked Zack up on the Internet—which had been about seven years ago, before she married Paul—he’d been the top-rated poker player in the world, living a jet-set lifestyle and dating a Victoria’s Secret model. She hadn’t been all that surprised at his success; he’d been an amazing card shark even at seventeen. He’d spent most of his evenings that summer hustling cards in the back room of the roadhouse the next town over, and he’d made a small fortune.
“So what brings you to Chartreuse?” Rachel asked.
He stuck his hand in the pocket of his jeans. “Well, actually, Katie does.”
The women collectively gasped.
No one gasped louder than Katie. “Me?”
He dipped his head in a curt, all-business nod, his eyes giving away nothing. “Is there someplace we can go to talk?”
Panic shot through her veins. “I—I’m sorry, but I’m with a client.”
“Oh, honey, don’t you worry about me.” Lulu’s bug eyes were fixed on Zack as if he were a double serving of mile-high pie.
“But your hair’s wet and I haven’t cut it yet, and…”
Lulu wafted her hand in a dismissive wave. “That’s just fine. I’ll come back later.”
“But—but…” Panic narrowed Katie’s throat.
“Oh, dear! Silly old me.” Lulu jumped out of the chair and pulled the polka-dotted cape off her neck. “I think I left my oven on!” Her wet hair dripped onto her white linen shirt, creating transparent spots. “I better head home right now and turn it off.”
She gave Zack a broad wink as she reached for her enormous orange leather purse and black umbrella on the counter. He rewarded her with another smile, causing Lulu to flush like a smitten groupie. She teetered to the door on her high-heeled orange mules, her eyes never leaving his face. Zack stepped forward and opened the door for her, then took her umbrella, stuck it out the door, and opened it as well.
“Oh, my,” Lulu murmured, placing one hand against her chest and shooting Katie a look that clearly said, Don’t let this one get away. “How gentlemanly. Thank you!”
“My pleasure.” The wind blew his thick dark hair as he closed the door behind Lulu and turned to Katie.
He had gorgeous hair—thick and wavy, so deep a brown it was almost black. It looked overdue for a trim, but it had been cut by someone who knew what they were doing. Katie could usually tell a lot about a person by their hair, but she wasn’t sure exactly what Zack’s hair was telling her.
She wasn’t at all sure about his face, either. It must be all that poker playing, because his expression was inscrutable.
“Guess this means you’re free for a few minutes,” he said. “Is there someplace around here where we can get a cup of coffee?”
“The Chartreuse Café is right around the corner,” Rachel volunteered.
Zack’s eyebrows quirked up. “That old place is still in business?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s like sharks and cockroaches—it’ll still be here, unchanged, long after everything else is extinct and gone,” Eula said.
“So you’ve been to Chartreuse before?” Bev prompted.
Zack nodded. “I spent the summer here with my aunt’s family eighteen years ago.”
“Really? Is that when you met Katie?” Josie asked.
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
The memories of that summer flooded her mind. Katie had been seventeen, working at the bait-and-tackle shop down at the lake. When Zack had walked through the door one hot afternoon, his gray T-shirt clinging to his lean frame, her lungs had felt as if they’d forgotten how to work.
“How do you breathe in here?” he’d asked.
For a moment, she thought he’d read her mind. “What?”
“The sign on the door says live bait, but it smells like it’s been dead for days.”
“Oh.” He was talking about the odor rising from the cooler of day-old shrimp by the door—of course. She lifted her shoulders. “After a while, you get used to it.”
“You mean it doesn’t bother you?”
“No. I mean I’m used to being bothered.”
He’d laughed, a hearty, appreciative laugh, and the sound made her heart feel like it was tied to a hot-air balloon. He hooked a thumb toward the cooler at the back of the store. “Let me grab a Coke and I’ll come bother you some more.”
The door opened as he sauntered to the rear of the store, and two men in orange hunting vests ambled in. The stench of stale beer clung to them like sweat. Their bloodshot eyes ran over her in a way that had made her skin crawl. “Oo-ee. Lookee what we got here,” said the taller one.
The shorter, chubbier one, who had a stubbled chin and a scar by his eye, stared at her chest. Apparently the cretin could read, because when his gaze eventually made its way to her nametag—Katie Landers—his contiguous eyebrow rose. “Hey—are you Mona’s girl?”
Her stomach had clenched. She didn’t want to say yes, but it would be disloyal to deny her own mother. She nodded her head.
“I knew it. My, my, my. The apple sure don’t fall far from the tree.” He gazed pointedly at her breasts.
The taller one
chortled, revealing two missing bottom teeth. “How old are you, honey?”
Katie decided to ignore the question. “May I help you with something?”
“Well, now, that just depends,” the shorter one said. “You ever party with your old lady?”
The other one gave a phlegmy cackle. Katie felt her face flame.
“Your mama, she sure knows how to party.”
Oh, God. Her mother had a drinking problem, and when she drank, she didn’t always remember what she did.
“Know what I hear? I hear she’s hot and heavy with the mayor now,” the taller one said.
Katie’s mouth went dry. She’d known the news was all over town, but being confronted with it head-on made her want to barf.
“Yes, sir, you’re your mama’s daughter, all right. The family resemblance is right there for all to see.” His eyes locked on her breasts in a way that had made her feel as if he could see through her shirt. “Yesirree. Your mama’s mighty fine, but I do believe you’ve got an even nicer pair of…”
“Leave her alone,” said an authoritative voice from the back of the store.
The men turned as Zack strode up. The shorter one squinted at him. “Who the hell are you?”
“The mayor’s nephew. And he’s not going to like hearing that you two are spreading nasty rumors about him.”
The short one spat in the trash can. “We don’t care what he likes and don’t like.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll care to know that when folks tick him off, he gets the police to follow them. Before they know it, they’re being stopped for speeding or reckless driving or worse, and it’s their word against the cop’s.”
The two men looked at each other.
“We were just havin’ some fun,” the tall one said. They both edged toward the door.
“You picked on the wrong girl.” Zack’s brow lowered into a badass scowl. “Now get the hell out of here and don’t bother her again.”
The door banged behind them after they scurried outside. The tires of their dirty red pickup threw up a rooster tail of gravel as they squealed out of the parking lot.
Zack plopped the can of Coke on the counter. “When you said you were used to being bothered, you weren’t kidding, were you?”
“No.” To Katie’s chagrin, tears sprang to her eyes.
Zack’s eyes went all warm and sympathetic, which made a lump the size of a bullfrog form in her throat.
“Hey—don’t let them get to you. They’re just a couple of losers.”
“But what they said about my mom…” A tear snaked down her cheek. She scrubbed it away with her fist.
“They’re full of bull.”
“No.” Katie drew in a ragged breath. “It’s true.”
He just kept looking at her with that same warm, nonjudgmental gaze. “So? Your mom’s not you. None of us get to pick our relatives.” His mouth curved in a wry smile. “If we did, I’d sure ask for another set.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Mine parked me here for the summer because neither one wanted me around.”
The frankness of the remark disarmed her. “Where are you from?”
“Chicago.” He’d grinned at her, and his smile had worked its magic.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Are you really the mayor’s nephew?”
He’d given a rueful nod. “He’s married to my mom’s sister, sad to say. He’s another relative I’d disown if I could.”
She’d given a tremulous grin, and his smile had widened. In the heat of it, she’d forgotten how to breathe.
She had to remind herself to take a breath now.
Rachel’s gaze darted from Zack to Katie, then back to Zack. “Have you and Katie stayed in touch all this time?”
“No.” Zack turned his blue eyes on her, and a flame of heat licked her neck. “We have some catching up to do.”
Yeah, thought Katie. Maybe you’d care to explain why you left town without a word, phone number, or forwarding address the day after we first made love. Katie’s spine stiffened against the old hurt.
“Well, you two run along—and take your time.” Bev flapped her wrist at them. “After Eula, I’m free for the rest of the afternoon, so I can take your next appointment. You’re going out to the retirement home later anyway, right?”
“Um… right.” Katie felt an irrational urge to dash out the back door.
“Ready?” Zack asked.
No. But if he was moving here, she’d have to talk to him sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.
Besides, he could no longer hurt her. Everything between them had happened nearly two decades ago. She’d handled things then, and she could certainly handle them now.
Couldn’t she?
She forced herself to smile. “Sure.” Grabbing her purse and umbrella, she followed Zack to the door.
CHAPTER TWO
The lunch rush was over, but the quaint Main Street café painted in the town’s namesake color was still half full as Katie stepped through the door with Zack. The three men in coveralls perched at the yellowish-green Formica counter looked up, as did most of the other patrons seated at the green tables in the gumbo-and-fried-seafood-scented restaurant. Katie wondered how long it would take before her mother-in-law, Annette Charmaine, heard that she’d come here with an unfamiliar man.
Not long at all, Katie thought with chagrin as she spotted Nellie from the drugstore at the front table. Oh, and wouldn’t you know it—the long-nosed, horse-faced woman was seated with three elderly ladies who lived at the Sunnyside Assisted-Living Villa, where Annette was staying while recovering from knee surgery and multiple fractures after a bad fall. Great, just great, Katie thought, giving the women a feeble wave and a feebler smile.
The waitress, a busty blonde named Cindy, looked Zack over with frank curiosity, then raised an eyebrow at Katie. “Hi, Katie. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Zack Ferguson. Zack, this is Cindy.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Zack’s dimple flashed.
Like all women, the waitress seemed to melt under his smile. “Not from these parts, are you?”
“Not until now,” Zack replied.
Cindy’s painted-on eyebrows rose higher.
“Zack just bought the old Ashton house,” Katie felt compelled to explain.
“Oh, my! We all wondered who was moving into that place.” Cindy set the pitcher of water in her hand down on the counter and sank down on a barstool, as if she were settling in for a long chat. “So what brings you to Chartreuse?”
Katie cut in, not wanting to risk him giving the same response he’d given at the salon. “Actually, Cindy, Zack and I are in something of a hurry. Could you bring us a couple of cups of coffee?”
“Uh—oh, sure. Sit wherever you all want. Would you like a piece of pie to go with your coffee?”
“No, thank you,” Katie said. Whatever Zack had to say to her, he could say it quickly and be done with it.
“Looks to me like she’s already found something sweet,” murmured a blue-haired lady at Nellie’s table. The other women giggled.
Katie felt her skin color. She decided to take the high road and pretend she hadn’t heard the remark.
“Let’s go over by the window,” Zack suggested.
Katie had forgotten how he’d always been a take-charge kind of guy. She used to like that about him, but now it seemed like a liability. This time, she wouldn’t surrender any control.
“The back is quieter.” Decisively heading in that direction, she selected the seat facing the wall so she wouldn’t have to wave greetings to everyone who walked through the door.
Zack sat down across from her and folded his hands on the plastic chartreuse place mat. The sight of his hands sent a rush of fresh adrenaline pumping through her. Oh, God, those hands—large, tan, and long-fingered. She’d watched his big, masculine hands that summer—watched them pop the tops on Coke cans; watched them steer his car as he drove her home after work; w
atched them shuffle and deal cards as he taught her to play poker. She’d spent most of the summer watching his hands and fantasizing about what they’d feel like on her body.
When she’d finally felt them, they’d exceeded anything she’d ever imagined.
And then he’d disappeared. Just up and left. Not a word, not a phone call, not a note. Nada.
She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed down the memories. Why the heck was she thinking about all that, anyway? She was no longer a starry-eyed girl with a fatal attraction to bad boys. She was a grown woman who’d known the love of a good man.
She straightened her spine and leveled a cool gaze at him. “So… what really brings you back to Chartreuse?”
Cindy flitted up, bearing two green ceramic coffee mugs. She set them down and fussily adjusted them, then fished a fistful of Moo-Cow creamers out of the pocket of her chartreuse apron and put them in the small bowl on the table. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Cindy,” Katie said, hoping to send her on her way.
But Cindy didn’t budge. She put a hand on her hip, cocked her head, and gazed at Zack. “You know, you look really familiar.”
“I hear that all the time,” Zack said. “Guess I just have one of those faces.” He flashed that disarming smile. In the face of it, Cindy retreated, a goofy grin plastered on her face.
Zack’s smile faded as he looked at Katie. His eyes held something she couldn’t quite place. Before she could figure it out, it was gone, replaced by his inscrutable poker face.
“She’s probably seen you on the cover of the tabloids with a model or an actress,” Katie said.
“That’s one reason I don’t travel in those circles anymore.” He reached for his coffee. “Too much of a hassle.”
