Beneath the Stetson

by Janice Maynard

  She crossed her arms, the posture unconsciously defensive. “I had food and shelter growing up. Lots of kids don’t have that much.”

  “True. But love is important. Perhaps your father didn’t know how to show you what was in his heart.”

  “I told myself that when I was a teenager. I took a psychology class in high school. Learned a little bit about how pain can make people turn inward. But it didn’t really help to know the reason why. My father and I barely speak. A couple of awkward meals at the holidays. The obligatory birthday gifts. I tried for years to get him to open up to me, but he’s a stone wall with no apparent desire to change.”

  “He’s missing out,” Gil said soberly.

  Bailey exhaled and took a drink of water, her hand trembling visibly. “Thank you.”

  After a moment’s awkward silence, she leaned forward and clasped her hands on the table. Her beautiful brown eyes were earnest. “If there’s a possibility that you and I are going to become...intimate...I wonder if I may ask you a personal question.”

  “Of course.”

  “Does Cade remember his mother at all?”

  He hesitated. This wasn’t a road he had expected to go down. But since he had inadvertently overheard Bailey’s extremely personal confession to Cade, it seemed only fair that Gil should reciprocate. “No,” he said slowly. “She died before his first birthday. Took her own life.” Even now, it hurt to say the words. And since Bailey had dossiers on half the people in town, she probably already knew that.

  “Oh, Gil. I am so sorry.” Bailey took one of his hands in her two smaller ones and held it tightly.

  He squeezed her fingers, warmed by her genuine sympathy. “It was a long time ago. And to be honest, our marriage was doomed from the beginning, though I didn’t realize it for a long time. My wife had severe emotional problems that she hid well.”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Bailey said, still holding his hand.

  “It’s okay. I want to tell you. It might help you understand why I’m so protective of Cade. When things started to go wrong in my marriage, I urged Sherrie to go with me to counseling. In the safety of that situation she was able to reveal that she had been abused as a young teenager. I found it almost impossible to believe at first, but her parents were part of a religious cult that ‘married’ young girls in the church to older men.”

  Bailey released him and sat back, her gaze stricken. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes. To her credit, Sherrie really did want a child, and she was so happy to be pregnant. But postpartum depression took a toll on her, and she was never able to recover.”

  “So you made Cade your priority.”

  “Don’t paint me as noble,” he said soberly. “There was more to it than that. My in-laws took me to court and tried to steal Cade away from me. Faced with the prospect of losing him, I realized how much I loved that little innocent baby.”

  “Thank God they didn’t succeed.”

  “I went through a hellish eight months of court-ordered visits and psychological evaluations...”

  She nibbled her lower lip, her eyes huge, her expression sober. “I’m beginning to see why you have a chip on your shoulder about government intervention.”

  “I suppose I do, but I came close to losing everything. My in-laws paid off a judge, and it nearly worked. Fortunately for me, I have a lot of friends in Royal and in the state at large. Powerful friends. In the end, justice prevailed, but it was a close call.”

  “I’ve admired you since I first came to Royal,” Bailey said quietly. “Now, even more.”

  Six

  Bailey was shaken by what she had heard. Imagining Gil without his son was a picture she didn’t want to paint. The two of them were a tight family unit. Despite the absence of a female figure.

  She had wondered from time to time if Gil were still in love with his dead wife...and if that was why he hadn’t remarried. Apparently, the truth was more complex. He wanted to protect his son, and that included not letting Cade’s little heart get broken time and again if his father indulged in short-lived relationships.

  Bailey had to admire Gil’s selflessness. But how long could a virile, healthy man suppress his sexual needs before he did something reckless? Like initiating an intimate relationship with a woman he barely knew...a woman just passing through.

  Sitting across the table from him was like a romantic fantasy come to life. She seldom had opportunities for fine dining, and never with someone who looked like Gil. His expensive black suit showcased broad shoulders and a trim waist. A crisp white shirt and red tie completed the image of a successful businessman. Though he would have fit right in wearing tooled leather boots, he had chosen more traditional dress shoes for their date. She found that she missed his cowboy look, though this man was wildly appealing, as well.

  But no matter how much she was drawn to him, the truth of their situation gave her pause. If she made unwise choices and things blew up in her face, she could face a formal reprimand from her boss, or even worse. She’d seen other colleagues terminated because they let their judgment be clouded by personal involvement on a case.

  Beyond the professional implications, Bailey didn’t want to be Gil’s guilty pleasure. She didn’t want to be filed under the category secret dalliance or enjoyable mistake. Not that he was hiding anything tonight. They were eating dinner in front of half the town, it seemed. But letting Cade know was another story.

  Her suppositions were confirmed when Gil glanced at his watch and muttered in dismay. “It’s almost time for me to pick up Cade,” he said. “I didn’t know it was so late. I’ll run you home and come back to get him.”

  She and Gil had talked easily and at length, with a comfort that Bailey rarely found in relationships with the opposite sex. The time had flown by. Underlying all of the conversation was the unspoken subtext of what they both wanted.

  “That’s not necessary,” she said. “Too much driving back and forth. Let me call Chance. I’m sure he won’t mind sending one of the ranch hands into town to pick me up. Go get your son, Gil. Take him home to bed.” The Straight Arrow and McDaniel’s Acres, both south of town, were not that far apart. It made no sense for Gil to crisscross the county when the solution was simple.

  Gil waved a hand for the checks and tucked both of their credit cards in the folio, frowning. “I invited you to dinner tonight. I’ll take you home.” He grimaced, clearly conflicted. “I suppose he’s old enough to know that not every relationship ends in wedding bells. We might as well go get him together.”

  “I appreciate your chivalry,” she said wryly. “But I don’t need a grand gesture. I’ve already told you how I feel. You’re a sexy, appealing man, and I find myself very attracted to you. That won’t change simply because you have responsibilities.”

  The tightness in his jaw eased, and his expression lightened. “Thank you, Bailey.” He stood and took her wrist to pull her to her feet. “But we’ll go together.”

  Outside, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, or at least toward the more seasonable. Temperatures had dropped while they were eating, and now, wind-driven spritzes of raindrops dampened the air.

  Bailey shivered, wishing she had remembered to bring a wrap. Gil shrugged out of his jacket and tucked it around her shoulders without asking. The fabric smelled like warm male. “Thank you,” she said, drawing the lapels closer together.

  The car was not far, so they made a run for it. Gil tucked her inside and ran around to the driver’s seat. When they were both safely inside, they laughed, shaking water droplets from their hair. The windows fogged up almost immediately.

  He didn’t start the engine. Instead, he turned toward her and studied her intently. Her taut nipples pressed against the fabric of her dress, perhaps visible even through her thin bra. Not that Gil could see. But she knew.

&
nbsp; “Do you need the heater?” he asked gruffly, his gaze dark and hungry.

  She shook her head. “It’s not that cold in the car.”

  Their stilted, prosaic conversation might have been funny if she hadn’t been wound so tightly. Her skin hummed with the need to feel his touch. Fortunately for her, Gil must have been on the same page.

  “Come here, Bailey.” They were sitting in the front of his fancy, enormous truck. The wide bench seat presented all sorts of intriguing possibilities.

  She scooted closer, barely noticing when his jacket slipped away. “Why?” she asked. “Do I need to warm you up?”

  His lips quirked in what might have been a grin had he not been so focused on finding her mouth with his. “Any warmer,” he groaned, “and I’ll be in danger of getting arrested.” He cupped the back of her neck in one big hand and used the other to anchor her chin. Lazily, with no apparent hurry, he kissed her. His lips were firm and warm and took without asking. He tasted faintly of coffee and whipped cream.

  “Gil...” The word trailed off on a whimper when he released her chin and found her knee.

  Slowly, he glided his palm up her thigh. His whole body jerked when he discovered the edge of her stocking and the tiny satin rosette that was her garter. “Sweet heaven,” he groaned. “You little tease.”

  She nipped his chin with sharp teeth. “I spend a lot of time on the job,” she murmured, loosening his tie and unbuttoning two buttons at his throat. “When I dress up, I like feminine lingerie.”

  His fingers played with the edge of the stocking, his hand warm and hard. “Promise me something,” he groaned, the words like ground glass.

  She felt him trembling and understood the power she wielded. Both exultant and abashed, she struggled to find footing in the quicksand at her feet. Was this right for her? For Gil? What were they doing?

  “Promise you what?” she asked. More than anything she wanted to take his hand and push it higher. But they were in a public parking lot, and it was time to pick up Cade.

  “Promise me you’ll wear this the first time we’re together.” He caressed the bare skin around her garter with his fingertip. Everything inside her went hot and shaky. She felt reckless, and that was enough to slow her down. Bailey Collins was never reckless. Not in her job and not in her personal life.

  Someone had to be strong in the midst of insanity. This time it had to be her. With great regret, she removed his hand and slid to her side of the vehicle as far as she could go. “Will there be a time like that?” she asked.

  “God, I hope so,” he said, banging his fist on the steering wheel. “Because if I don’t have you soon, I can’t be held responsible for what happens.”

  He was exaggerating. She knew that. But the desperation in his voice was real and unmistakable “Look at your watch,” she pleaded. “We have to go.”

  That he obeyed her was no victory. She wanted to stay with him in the intimate confines of the truck cab. In fact, she would have stayed there all night if he had asked. Though she hadn’t fooled around like that as a high school kid, the idea held a certain appeal to a woman whose love life had been barren of late.

  On the brief drive to Gil’s cousin’s house, silence reigned. The swish of the windshield wipers was the only sound. At their destination, Gil parked by the curb and hopped out. Minutes later, he returned, carrying a sleeping Cade. At Gil’s motion, she leaned across the seat and opened his door.

  Gently, his face unreadable, he scooted Cade to the middle and belted him into his booster seat. The boy’s body was limp. When he slumped in Bailey’s direction, she put her left arm around him and held him close. He smelled like peanut butter and little-boy sweat.

  Gil climbed in and stared at his son. “He’s dead to the world.”

  “Just as well,” Bailey said. “Maybe this will all seem like a dream to him.”

  “Thank you for understanding. Most women would be offended.”

  “Not me. You’re a father first and foremost. I respect that. Cade is a very lucky boy.” She kissed the top of the child’s head. “Take me home, Gil.”

  * * *

  Gil drove more slowly than usual, fully aware that he was distracted. Bailey’s care and consideration for his son impacted Gil in ways he couldn’t explain. His brain ran in circles, torn between imagining intimacy with Bailey one second and wondering how he could ever test a relationship with a woman without dragging his son into it.

  At McDaniel’s Acres he pulled to a stop in front of the ranch house and put the truck in Park. Bailey put a hand on his arm. “Don’t get out. You can’t leave him here alone.”

  Gil shook his head. “He’s fine.” He went around the truck and opened Bailey’s door, holding her hand to help her out. Remembering what she was wearing beneath that demure black dress made him hard all over again. “Good night, Bailey.” He slid his hands beneath her thick, silky hair and anchored her head for his kiss.

  She leaned into him, her lips eager and soft, her breasts crushed against his chest. Though he knew her to be tough and capable, when he held her like this, he wanted to protect her at all costs. The danger inherent in her job was never far from his mind.

  He wedged a thigh between her legs, pulling her hips against his, letting her feel the extent of his need. “I’m working on an idea,” he said. “Will you trust me?”

  She toyed with his belt buckle. “Of course.” The breathless note in her voice told him all he needed to know. He wasn’t in this alone.

  “Tomorrow. At the club. I’ll explain.”

  “Yes.” She ran her hand over the late-day stubble on his chin. He opened his mouth and bit gently on one of her fingertips.

  The erotic action was a big mistake. The rush of lust almost crippled him. Backing away from her the way he would an angry rattler, he put the body of the truck between them. It was good that his son was asleep in the cab of the truck. Otherwise, Gil just might have taken Bailey standing up.

  His forehead broke out in a cold sweat thinking about it. “Sleep well,” he said, knowing that he wouldn’t.

  Bailey walked halfway up the steps, then turned to look at him. “I had fun tonight.” Her voice carried on the night breeze. “Good night, Gil.”

  He got into the truck and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, his heart slugging in his chest as if he’d run a marathon. Something was going to have to change. And soon....

  * * *

  Bailey entered the house quietly, though since it was not yet ten, likely no one was asleep. Chance McDaniel stood in the lobby chatting with a couple of gray-headed ladies from Ohio. Bailey had met them when she first arrived. Learning to ride a horse was a big item on their bucket list, and Chance’s patient staff was helping that dream come true.

  The owner of the dude ranch excused himself when he saw her enter and crossed the floor. “Everything okay?”

  Her face must have reflected some of her turmoil. She flushed. “Fine. No problem.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Was that Gil Addison’s truck I saw out front?”

  Her flush deepened. “It was. We had dinner together.”

  Chance’s smile was more of a grimace. “I suppose that means at least one of us is no longer on your suspect list.”

  “A man is innocent until proven guilty,” she said.

  Chance shook his head, his gaze hooded. “Doesn’t feel that way from where I’m standing.”

  * * *

  Bailey headed for the stairs, wishing she had the luxury of becoming friends with Chance. Already, in the short time she had been around, she felt like he was a man who could be trusted. But hard evidence was composed of facts and not feelings. Until she could completely clear his name from the suspect list, she couldn’t get too friendly. It was impossible to imagine Chance committing a kidnapping. But she knew better than
most that some people hid unimaginable secrets. Chance didn’t. She was almost positive. Hopefully, soon she could prove it.

  Upstairs, she stripped out of the one nice dress she had brought with her to Royal and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The tiny undies and demibra that matched the garter belt were intensely feminine. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine the look on Gil’s face if he saw her like this. His raw passion elated her, made her feel special and wanted.

  In the shower, she imagined Gil at her side, his face all planes and angles as he stared at her with male determination. His body was intensely masculine, strong and rugged. The juxtaposition of his tenderness with Cade and his ruthless pursuit of Bailey should have confused her, but in a way, it made perfect sense. He was a man of deep emotions, whether it be love for his son or hunger for the woman in his arms.

  She wouldn’t be the woman in his life, not long-term. But if the fates were kind, she would certainly enjoy exploring her sensual side with him until it was time for her to leave.

  Sliding her soapy fingers over her slick breasts, she inhaled sharply as arousal pumped through her veins like thick honey. Her nipples were taut nubs, their ache an ever-present reminder that she was young and in need of a man’s touch.

  Dragging the washcloth between her legs, she winced as her body demanded attention. It didn’t take more than a few languid strokes before she came with a low moan and rested her forehead against the tile as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal.

  On shaky legs, she got out and dried off, already anticipating the following day. What did Gil have in mind? And how long would they have to wait?

  She was almost asleep when the cell phone on the bedside table vibrated suddenly. Snatching it up, she glanced at the screen. Though she had only dialed it once before, she recognized Gil’s number. “Hello.”

  “Bailey. I just looked at the clock. I’m sorry. Were you asleep?”

  “Not quite.” She shifted, sitting up against the headboard. “Is something wrong?”