Beneath the Stetson

by Janice Maynard

  The silence on the other end of the phone lengthened. “Define wrong.”

  “Is Cade okay?”

  Gil’s voice was hoarse. “He’s fine. Never even woke up when I carried him to his bed.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah.” The awkward conversation was going nowhere. “I wish our evening could have lasted longer,” he said.

  She knew exactly what he meant. “Me, too.” Suddenly, something struck her. “Are you in bed?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know or not.

  “Yes. And wishing you were here beside me.”

  She swallowed hard. The man was nothing if not honest. “I need you to be sure, Gil. Things will be complicated, and I don’t want you to resent me when this is all over.”

  “I wasn’t very nice to you at first, was I? And you’re not sure if I fully trust you.”

  She heard the regret in his voice. “You were entitled to your opinion. In your place, I might have been just as aggravated. It’s never easy to be questioned about a crime. It makes innocent people jittery. I understand.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you. I really like you, Bailey. In spite of your job.”

  She smiled, smoothing her free hand over the soft, faded pattern of the double wedding ring quilt on her bed. “I like you, too, Gil. In spite of your bullheadedness.”

  “Touché.”

  His chuckle warmed her. “I’m not having phone sex with you,” she said firmly, yet willing to be persuaded.

  “Trust me, Bailey, when we finally have sex, it’s going to be a helluva lot more exciting than mere words. I’m going to let you turn my world upside down and then return the favor.”

  Her breath caught as her legs moved restlessly against the sheets. “You’re awfully confident.”

  “It has nothing to do with confidence. You and I are two of a kind. We’re loners. Who feel things deeply and have a strong sense of responsibility toward those who depend on us. I think that’s why I felt something for you the first day we met. You’re not only beautiful and sexy, but you care about things. About people. About a little boy who wants a mother....”

  “You know I’m not applying for that job, right?”

  “I know. But how do you feel about the boy’s father?”

  Bailey sucked in a breath. Perhaps it was easier to be honest when he wasn’t staring at her face to face. “I want to spend time with you, Gil...in all sorts of ways....”

  He said something short and sharp that she couldn’t quite hear. And then his voice echoed over the connection more strongly. “Not all women are as honest as you,” he said.

  She smiled, knowing he couldn’t see. “Have I shocked you?”

  “Only in the best possible way.” He paused. “Go to sleep, Bailey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow...”

  She fell asleep thinking about all the possibilities tied up in that one wonderful word.

  Seven

  Bailey worked her way through one drawer after another, her pile of file folders growing along with her list of questions. She’d been at the club all day, and Gil had never once shown his face. When she had arrived at ten as usual that morning, the club receptionist met her and handed over a key, saying that Mr. Addison had been detained.

  Bailey tried not to brood over hurt feelings, but her reaction to Gil’s absence was beginning to make her question whether it was wise to get involved with him at all. She didn’t want to analyze his every move for evidence of whether or not he really cared. Fear of making an embarrassing misstep in their relationship kept her on edge.

  At a quarter to five she began packing up her things, prepared to go home and pore over the new information she had gleaned. Still, nothing and no one jumped out at her as a likely suspect. But there were a lot of club members who had connections to Alex, and Bailey was pretty sure that given the chance to talk to them she might be able to make progress with her case.

  When Gil walked into the small office, again without announcing his presence beforehand, she sucked in a sharp breath, but otherwise managed to face him with a neutral expression. Her hands continued to move, tidying up the work space, but her body was rigid.

  Gil didn’t look any happier than she felt. “I had five phone calls today,” he said abruptly. “All of them wondering why I’ve allowed a woman I’m dating to spend time at the club without me present.”

  She winced. “So they know what I’m doing?”

  “Not specifically. It’s my fault for giving the receptionist my key. She’s a nice woman, but she can’t keep her mouth shut.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I thought about making up a story, but frankly, you’re a state investigator. Everyone in town knows it. Sooner or later, people were going to put two and two together. It was one thing for you to be seen eating lunch with Cade and me at the club. But I should have thought through the implications of you being here on your own today.”

  “So you told them the truth.”

  He nodded his head. “I did. And I can’t repeat most of what was said in return. People don’t like knowing that their personal business is being opened up to an outsider, especially one with government connections.”

  “I’m sorry, Gil.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He shrugged, his expression rueful. “You’re merely doing your job. I can handle a little heat, Bailey. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “I told you...I can take care of myself.”

  “Alex Santiago would have told me the same thing, and look what happened to him. Some nutcase decided to kidnap him.”

  “There had to be a reason. Some connection we’re not seeing.”

  “Yes. And because we can’t point to the perpetrator yet, the danger is still very real. What if someone tries to dissuade you from probing any further?”

  “I take precautions. That’s one reason I’m not staying in town. Chance’s place is as safe as anywhere I can think of. Too many people around for anyone to get to me unnoticed. Not to mention the fact that I can keep an eye on Chance.”

  Gil ran a hand across the back of his neck, his face a thundercloud. “He has nothing to hide, Bailey. I’ll be damn glad when this is all over.”

  “Not me,” she said quietly. “At least not entirely. Because that means I’ll have to head home.”

  His jaw tightened as the truth of her words sank in. Whatever time the two of them shared was likely to be very brief. Her heart shied away from that knowledge. Leaving Royal was a reality she didn’t want to contemplate. Especially not now that Gil had admitted he wanted her.

  He frowned as he took her shoulders in his hands and squeezed gently. “Please be careful, Bailey.”

  She moved closer into his embrace, kissed his cheek, and sighed. “I’m always careful.” For long seconds, they stood there quietly as something fragile and precious bloomed. To have the right to lean on him, even symbolically, was very sweet. His hard frame seemed to shelter hers, even though she was quite capable of caring for herself.

  The pull of his masculinity called to a part of her she often kept out of sight. Being “girlie” was the last thing she needed in her line of work. But with Gil, she felt herself letting down barriers. Softening. Needing.

  “Tell me,” she said, idly running her fingers over his collarbone. “What is this idea you were working on?”

  He set her at arm’s length, his expression unreadable. “You want to interview club members—right?”

  “Yes. Maybe half a dozen or more.”

  “The thing is, Bailey, I can’t stop you from doing what you were sent here to do, but I also can’t condone using the club for those interviews. The TCC is where guys come to get away from life. To chill out and kick back. They have a right to their p
rivacy. But...”

  “But what?”

  “But I think it might go down better if we do it at my place. I’ll contact whomever you tell me and invite them out to the Straight Arrow tomorrow night. I won’t lie. I’ll tell them flat out why they’re coming. But I’ll throw some steaks on the grill and open a case of beer, and hopefully, we can mitigate any negative backlash.”

  “You’d do that for me?” What he was suggesting made perfect sense. Neutral territory.

  He kissed her nose. “It’s not that big a deal. But, yes.”

  “What about Cade? Will he be there?”

  “Actually...”

  For the first time since she had known him, Gil looked uncomfortable.

  “What? What are you not telling me?”

  “I have friends in Midland with a little boy exactly Cade’s age. They’re planning a sleepover birthday for their son and they want Cade to come. I’m driving him up there in the morning.”

  She fidgeted, not sure if she was reading him correctly.

  Gil’s smile was crooked. “I hope you’ll pack a bag and stay at the Straight Arrow with me once our guests are gone.”

  * * *

  Twenty-four hours later, Bailey drove out the familiar road to Gil’s sprawling ranch, wondering how she had gone from being a hardworking investigator to a woman contemplating a night with her lover in one dizzying swoop.

  The juxtaposition of professional and personal in the upcoming evening made her skittish. It was important that she come across as businesslike and competent when she interviewed Gil’s friends and acquaintances. If any of them got wind of what Gil had planned for later, her credibility would be shot.

  But there was no real cause for alarm. Gil didn’t want gossip any more than Bailey did. For his son’s sake, if nothing else.

  When she arrived, Gil greeted her at the door. Two high-end pickup trucks were already parked out front. “Come on in,” he said. “I thought you could go ahead and get started before dinner. We’ll set you up in the front parlor. It was always my mom’s holy of holies, but I think it will give you the privacy you need.”

  As they traversed the narrow hallway to the back of the house, Gil suddenly dragged her to a halt and pushed her against the antique wallpaper for a hard, hungry kiss. “I missed you today,” he muttered, his hips anchoring her to the unyielding surface.

  She returned the kiss eagerly, inhaling the scent of starched cotton and well-oiled leather. Gil was dressed casually in jeans, cowboy boots and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He radiated tough masculinity, and despite her advanced degrees and the level to which she had risen in her career, it was humbling and embarrassing to admit that she was definitely turned on by his macho swagger.

  “I missed you, too,” she said primly. “And I want you to know how much I appreciate all you’ve done to set this up tonight.”

  He nibbled the side of her neck. “You can thank me later. There’s a full moon tonight. The view from my bedroom window is spectacular.”

  The breath caught in her throat as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Promises, promises...” She swallowed back an embarrassing moan. “There are vehicles out front. I assume we’re not alone?”

  As a protest, it was weak.

  Gil rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs brushing the thin cotton of her blouse where it glided over her breasts. “You make me want to forget everything. That’s dangerous.”

  “Should I apologize?” Her arms linked around his neck, feeling his warmth, his solidness.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get this over with.”

  * * *

  Gil had to hand it to Bailey. She knew how to be charming. Her manner with the men he had invited hit just the right note. Neither authoritative nor tentative, she invited the guests to speak with her in private one by one. And as each man returned from the parlor, no one seemed particularly bent out of shape by Bailey’s informal interrogation.

  Over dinner, Gil surveyed the assorted group of men. Only two on his list had begged off. Sheriff Nathan Battle, who was on duty, and Paul Windsor, who was out of town on a business trip.

  The rest had varying degrees of history with Alex Santiago. Douglas Firestone, Ryan Grant, the twins—Josh and Sam Gordon, Zach Lassiter, and Beau Hacket. With the possible exception of Hacket, Gil liked and respected every man present. And even Hacket, despite his son’s recent vandalism of the child care center at the club, hardly seemed the type to kidnap anybody.

  Fortunately, the medium-rare steaks were a big hit, the beer held out, and Bailey had the good sense to excuse herself from the table before the party became rowdy. By the time the evening wound down around ten, Gil was fairly certain that none of his guests really remembered why they had come. Each one went home with his belly full and perhaps a forbidden cigar or two smoked on the way out.

  Gil closed and locked the front door, leaning against it with a sigh. As male bonding went, the evening was a home run.

  But all he could think about was getting Bailey naked.

  He found her in the parlor, her laptop open, her head bent studiously over a legal pad of notes. “Did you get anything good?” he asked, sprawling in a chair that was more comfortable than it looked.

  She glanced up at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “I have no idea. They all claim to like Alex. Firestone does admit to arguing with him, but insists it was nothing significant. Hacket tried to schmooze me and pretend that he’s a saint. But overall, I came up with nothing that I didn’t already know or suspect.”

  He saw the frustration on her face. “I invited Chance, but he was reluctant to come.”

  “I know. He glares at me when he thinks I’m not looking.” She rubbed her temples with her index fingers. “I’ve had plenty of opportunity to talk to him, and if he’s the kind of man to commit a felony, I’ll be very surprised.”

  “Men in love do strange things.”

  “Is he? In love, I mean? You know him better than I do.”

  “I don’t know. He and Cara were very close. But once Alex came on the scene, she had eyes for nobody else.”

  “So with Alex gone, Chance might try to make his move?”

  “Even if he does, it still doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Alex’s disappearance.”

  “True...”

  She stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. “Enough of this. I’m officially off the clock until tomorrow.”

  Gil linked his hands behind his head. “I like the sound of that.”

  Hands on hips, she stared at him.

  “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Will I seem hopelessly inexperienced if I tell you I’m nervous?”

  He rolled to his feet and walked toward her, grinning when she backed up and nearly toppled an antique glass pitcher. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “That’s what you think. I’m having trouble with the shift from work to play.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ears, glad that she had left it loose tonight. “I can help with that.” Scooping her into his arms, he ignored her squeak of protest. “We’re alone at last. I thought they would never leave.” Striding out of the room and up the stairs, he felt his heart beating faster and faster, though carrying his burden was no strain. “In case it matters,” he said, nuzzling her ear, “you’re the first woman I’ve ever invited for a sleepover.”

  * * *

  Bailey clung to Gil’s neck, mortified that he had picked her up. She was not a petite woman, yet he seemed completely at ease. In the midst of being flustered by his romantic gesture, she was also taken aback by the casual way he told her this night was special.

  In the doorway to his bedroom, he paused. “Last chance to say no.” His dark eyes held not a flicker of humo
r.

  She ran her thumb along his chiseled jawline. “I don’t want to say no. I need you, Gil. I want you. Even if this night is all we have.”

  His slight frown told her he didn’t like that last bit, but she was trying to be practical. Cade couldn’t be shuttled off to friends and neighbors all the time, and Gil didn’t want to parade his love life in front of his son. Any way you looked at it, tonight’s encounter was not likely to be repeated.

  Gil strode toward the bed and set her on her feet. He held her hands, his expression unreadable. “I’ve watched you for weeks,” he murmured. “And even when I told myself you were an officious pain in the ass, I knew in my heart that I wanted you.”

  “All I saw was the disapproval,” she confessed. “It hurt that you thought so little of me. And you seemed angry all the time.”

  “A defense,” he said simply. “I hoped you would leave and I could forget the way your hair shines with fire in the sunlight or the way your long legs carry you across a crowded street.”

  Bailey’s heart fluttered. Poetry from the man who was pragmatic and straightforward. He didn’t dress it up or spout it effusively, thus making the quiet, sincere words all the more powerful.

  She swallowed. “I had no idea.”

  “You weren’t supposed to. I’ve done my damnedest to stay away from you. But when you called me about access to the club, I knew I was a goner.” His smile was lopsided. “A man can only have so much self-control, and you tested mine to the limit. Turns out, I’m not as strong as I thought.”

  “I wish I could tell you I’m sorry about that, but I’m not. I’ve had an embarrassing crush on you since we first met.”

  “Nice to know.” He grinned, the flash of white teeth literally taking her breath away. Gil bore great responsibilities and had a serious streak a mile wide. But this man, this lighthearted, teasing man, looked younger and happier than she had ever seen him.

  She tugged her hands free and punched him in the arm. “You have to know that every woman in town thinks you’re a hottie.”