Making It Right

by Kathy Altman

  “Right. She may look all cute and innocent on the outside, but on the inside? Nothing but bad news.”

  “Wait, so you’ve met her?”

  “No. But you have.”

  It took a second for the penny to drop. When it did, Gil’s water bottle followed suit, hitting the ground with a sloshing thud.

  He shot to his feet. “Son of a bitch.” Bartender Kerry was Harris’s crooked daughter?

  “Sorry, man.” Seth stood, as well. He walked to his bike and took his time sliding his water bottle back into the holder. Giving Gil a chance to process the bad news.

  “Son of a bitch,” Gil repeated. A sense of betrayal sliced through him like a hot knife.

  Yeah, they’d used each other. For comfort, had been the idea. But apparently, she’d had more on her agenda—like using him to get on her dad’s good side.

  He slapped the dirt off his ass and huffed a sour chuckle. She’d made it clear. One night only. Now he knew why. It was his own frickin’ fault he hadn’t been able to stop himself from hoping for more. Hell, he’d started hungering for another night in her bed way before the first one had ended.

  No more. He’d just lost his appetite.

  * * *

  KERRY HUGGED THE velvet bolster to her chest and blinked against the heavy lure of sleep dragging at her eyelids. She should give in to it. She needed the rest. In three hours, she had to report back to the bar for a marathon eleven-to-one-a.m. shift.

  But her mind refused to give in to the exhaustion pinning her body to the mattress.

  The moment Gil’s mouth had bumped against hers and that searing, aching need had rocketed from her lips to the soles of her feet, she’d known she would take him inside her. She’d needed him inside her. Not just to ease the loneliness but to feel his breath on her face, his fingertips on her skin, his hands tangled with hers.

  Touch. Not something she’d take for granted, ever again.

  But even as they’d yanked furiously at their clothes, guilt had slithered in. He deserved to know who she was. What she was. He had to know her father—Cooper’s Hardware sat right across the street from Eugenia’s dress shop, for God’s sake. One-night stands were supposed to be anonymous, or at least I-barely-know-you-ous, but how long could she fly under the radar in a place like Castle Creek?

  She hadn’t been able to keep herself from wondering...how much would he despise her when he found out she’d kept a little something like a felony conviction to herself?

  Or maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be all kinds of grateful she’d provided him with an easy out.

  “Stop thinking,” he’d said. Then his mouth had closed over her nipple and she had. Until hours later when he’d been preparing to leave and asked for her number.

  An electronic trill had her pushing away the bolster and rolling onto her left side. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and squinted at the screen. Not a number she recognized.

  Her stomach bobbed up and down. Could it be her father?

  “Hello?” she said, and winced at the hope that made the word flutter.

  “Kerry? This is Parker Macfarland. I thought you’d want to know. Eugenia’s in the hospital.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EUGENIA WAS EXHAUSTED. Long hours at the dress shop, moving into her new house, struggling with the sadness that still haunted her after her breakup with Harris and knowing she’d contributed to the rift with his daughter—it was all so draining. Melancholy lay heavy and stubborn on her chest, as if Joe Gallahan’s twenty-pound ginger tabby had curled up for a nap. The pressure forced her to take shallow breaths.

  Harris, bless his obstinate heart, had taken charge like the marine corps master sergeant he’d once been. From the moment she’d collapsed he’d snapped orders, demanded updates, and delegated ice chip and warm blanket retrieval missions. Eugenia had been beyond charmed.

  The nurses, not so much.

  Eugenia shifted position and winced at the tug of the IV. How she’d missed having someone look after her. Care for her. Want her. She almost missed it enough to give in to the jackass former marine.

  But that wouldn’t do anyone any good. Least of all Kerry.

  “Eugenia.” The object of her thoughts appeared at the foot of her bed, hair in a lopsided ponytail, face as colorless as the fluid trickling its way through Eugenia’s IV tube. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than you look, I must say.” She soothed the sting of her words with a smile, and held out her hand. “Did something happen?”

  “Yes, something happened. You ended up in here.” Kerry came around the bed and squeezed her hand, then perched on the edge of the padded guest chair. “Parker called. I wanted to come see you before my shift at the bar.”

  “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”

  Kerry eyed the flowers on the table by the bed. A basket of plump lavender hydrangeas squatted beside a clear glass vase of pink and white tulips. “How very lovely. I should have brought you something.”

  “Yes, you should. I could use one of your margaritas right about now. Though I guess a Bloody Mary would be more appropriate, considering I just finished breakfast.” When Kerry smiled, Eugenia relaxed back against her pillows. “Sutton brought the hydrangeas in.”

  “Sutton?”

  “A very nice man I’ve been dating.”

  “Oh.” The word was one long, drawn-out sigh of disappointment.

  Eugenia could relate. She’d felt the exact same way the first time she and Sutton had kissed.

  “The tulips came from Parker. She specializes in geraniums, but she’s trying to branch out.” Eugenia folded her hands on her stomach. “She told me how Liz acted at the bar last night.”

  “Liz used to work for Snoozy. She was just being protective.”

  “Well, don’t let her discourage you. I need you to stay here in Castle Creek. How else am I going to get you and that pigheaded father of yours back together?”

  Kerry shot Eugenia a pointed glance. “You first,” she said.

  “Don’t you go getting any ideas, Kerry Mae. What’s done is done.”

  “How did you know my middle name?”

  “Sweetie. Not everything your father says about you is disapproving.”

  “Just most of it?” Kerry glanced again at the hydrangeas and her mouth drooped. “It’s my fault you’re in here, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Of course not.” Eugenia made a face. “I had what turned out to be a hot flash. The first of many, I suppose.”

  Kerry pressed a hand to her chest. “You didn’t have a heart attack?”

  Eugenia shook her head. “Not even a little. Too much coffee on top of my crazy hormone levels put my poor heart into overdrive. And of course I panicked, which only made things worse. I’m scheduled for another EKG, but I’m sure they’ll send me home this afternoon.” She reached out, smiling when Kerry squeezed her hand. “Rest assured that none of this is on you.”

  “That’s a bunch of baloney and you know it.” Harris stood in the doorway, jaw set, head thrust so far forward, Eugenia feared he might topple over.

  Then again, a solid whack on the head might do him some good.

  “Shut up, old man,” she said. “This is no one’s fault but my own.”

  Abruptly, Kerry got to her feet and moved away from the bed. “I’ll get out of your way. If it’s all right, I’ll call and check on you later.”

  “Of course it’s all right. And you are not in the way.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Harris grumbled.

  “That’s enough.” Eugenia slapped her IV-free hand down on her bed. The blanket muffled the sound, so she snatched up the plastic water pitcher and banged that on the bedside table instead. “What are you, five years old? Wise up. You’re
a full-grown military man. Start acting like one.”

  “This military man is goin’ AWOL.”

  Harris swung toward the door then hesitated. “I’m really just goin’ for a cookie,” he said to the hallway. “I will be back.” He stomped out of the room.

  Blessed silence descended.

  Kerry’s overbright gaze rested on Eugenia. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, but I need to leave Castle Creek. My dad refused to talk to me before you ended up here, and now that he blames me...” She tried and failed a smile. “This just isn’t going to work.”

  “He doesn’t blame you, kiddo. He blames himself.”

  “That’s not what he said.”

  “Of course not. He’s angry. He lost your mother, he lost you, and he thought he was about to lose me.”

  “He did lose you. Thanks to me.”

  “He knows better, even if you don’t.”

  “My mom and me, he didn’t lose. He pushed us away.”

  “I don’t know about your mother, but with you there was pushing on both sides.” With a weary flap of her hand, Eugenia settled back into a recline. “Give it a couple of days. Your dad needs a chance to calm down. I can’t help feeling you’ll regret it if you give up now.”

  “By the way,” she continued, “I suspect you’d probably like to make some more money, since Snoozy isn’t paying you anything near what you’re worth. I have a suggestion. Cooper’s Hardware.”

  “A-as in, Gil Cooper?”

  Eugenia busied herself smoothing the wrinkles out of her blanket. Those last two words had been pitched so high, it was a wonder dogs weren’t storming her hospital room. “Does that mean you’ve met him?”

  “I... Yes. I served him a beer last night. And later he had to let me into the apartment.” She winced. “I borrowed Allison Gallahan’s sweater and put my key in the pocket, then ended up leaving both at the bar. But don’t worry. I know right where the key is. I’ll get it back today. I’ll get them both back. Here I am trying to convince everyone I’ve gone straight and already I’ve stolen a sweater.”

  Eugenia frowned. That wasn’t funny.

  Kerry dropped her chin and fiddled with her ponytail. “Anyway, I don’t think taking on a second job is a good idea. Not right now. I need to stay available for Snoozy. I gave my word I’d help him any way I could.”

  “But you’re only managing the bar until he gets back from his honeymoon. If you already have something else lined up, at least you won’t be completely out of work. Besides, Harris thinks a lot of Gil. He’s one of his poker buddies.”

  Kerry blanched. “Buddies?”

  “Impress Gil and that will go a long way toward convincing Harris he needs to keep an open mind.”

  Kerry tried to smile, but the result was more of a spasm.

  Oh, Lord. Eugenia gave herself a mental slap upside the head. She should have realized. Chances were Gil already knew Kerry’s story. Then again, from what Parker had said about Kerry and Gil hitting it off at the bar, it sounded like he didn’t know yet that Kerry the bartender and Kerry the daughter of Harris were one and the same.

  “Think about it,” Eugenia said.

  Kerry mumbled something and Eugenia sighed. How was Kerry supposed to fall in love with Castle Creek if she spent all her time in a dark and dingy bar?

  She closed her eyes the moment Kerry left. What seemed like almost immediately after that, an annoying sound startled her awake. Was that...crunching? She opened her eyes to see Harris staring at her from the foot of her bed, a half-eaten cookie in one hand and a waxed bag in the other.

  He tossed the bag into her lap. “I heard Sutton Vincent was in to see you.”

  “He’s handsome and charming, and he’s a wonderful cook.”

  Harris jammed the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

  “He’s not grouchy, he doesn’t lecture me about money when I buy him a gift, and he doesn’t tease me about my baking.”

  “Catch of a lifetime. Good for you.”

  “Actually, he’s boring as hell.” She opened the bag and peered inside. “But he pays attention to me, so I’m not sure I want to throw him back.”

  Harris swiped at the crumbs on his mouth. “I called 911 like you asked me to last night. Dumped the ice out of that pitcher there ’cause I know you don’t like it, asked that lady wearin’ the pink pajamas to change your breakfast sausage to bacon, and left you here alone with my daughter like you wanted even though she has nowhere near earned the privilege of spendin’ time with you. Now if that’s not payin’ attention, I don’t what the hell is.”

  “The privilege of spendin’ time with you.” Why couldn’t he have said things like that when they were a couple? And when he wasn’t in the middle of a rant?

  He watched her closely, his massive chest heaving, and her fingers itched to glide over the sexy, springy hairs she knew were hidden beneath his customary plaid flannel shirt. Lest her own chest start to heave, she dropped her gaze and with her index finger traced the logo on the bakery bag.

  “Sutton pays attention every day,” she said. “Not just in a medical emergency. And they’re not pajamas, they’re scrubs.”

  “You know he’s only after your money, right?”

  “In the first place, Harris Briggs, screw you for thinking no one but you could be interested in me romantically. I’m kind, I’m a decent conversationalist, and I have a snappy sense of humor. My body may be on the downhill slide to sixty, but it can still wrap around a hot, hunky male, thank you very much.”

  He snorted, and she was gratified to hear the sound carried as much uneasiness as disgust. “Now, don’t go greasin’ both sides of your bread.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” When he didn’t answer, she tossed back her hair. Since she wore her hair short the toss probably looked more like a seizure, but whatever. “You’re right, Sutton is after my money, but only so he can invest it. He wants me to be able to afford nice things, like that trip to Austria you kept promising you’d consider.”

  “Why do you want to go to Austria? What’s wrong with stayin’ on this continent? You ever even been to Colorado? Or Wyoming, or Montana? Accordin’ to Audrey Tweedy, the prime rib is lovely this time of year.”

  Eugenia sighed. She was tired of arguing. More important, she couldn’t think of a clever comeback.

  Harris pulled a stick of gum from his shirt pocket and took his time unwrapping it. “I hope you’re not thinkin’ of sharing any investment dividends with my daughter.”

  Eugenia shot upright. “You don’t get to bully me anymore, Harris Briggs. Especially about Kerry.”

  His eyebrows rushed at each other like lovesick caterpillars. “So you’re settin’ conditions now? I make nice with her and I can get back into your bed?”

  A fortysomething nurse with a scowl as dark as the jet-black, close-cropped hair on her head marched into the room. She wagged a finger at them.

  “We can hear you two all the way down at the nurse’s station.” She turned her scowl on Harris. “Keep it down or keep out.”

  “We’re sorry, Nadine,” Eugenia said meekly. An aide had already given Eugenia the heads-up—patients who stayed on the head nurse’s good side got ice cream between meals. Lord knew Eugenia had earned it.

  Nadine clicked her tongue. “I wasn’t talking to you, sweet baby.”

  “I’m leavin’,” Harris said, his voice as rough as tree bark. When Nadine didn’t move, he lifted a wheedling eyebrow. “One minute to say goodbye?”

  “As long as you say it and don’t yell it.” With another click of her tongue, she left the room.

  Harris rubbed a palm over his head. “I never meant to bully you, Genie.”

  “I think you did. And you didn’t like that I pushed back.”

&nbs
p; “It’s a self-defense mechanism.”

  “It’s a deal-breaker.”

  Red rushed his cheeks. “I’m glad you’re okay, Eugenia Blue. You rest up.” He turned, stopped and jabbed his chin at Sutton’s hydrangeas. “Nice flowers,” he muttered, and disappeared behind the curtain.

  Eugenia watched him go, pressure building behind her eyes. “I prefer cookies,” she whispered to the empty room. She dug into the bag, pulled out a snickerdoodle and slotted it into her mouth like a DVD into a player.

  * * *

  FOR THE LAST few hours of her second shift at Snoozy’s, Kerry dreamed of a hot shower and cool sheets. By the time she was headed home her feet throbbed, her back ached, and she was desperate for something to eat that didn’t involve grease.

  She forgot all of that when she pushed out of her car and spotted Gil leaning against the outside stairs.

  Her pulse thickened and her head spun, as if she’d tossed back one too many tequila shots. Her fingers tightened around her key ring, which now sported the recovered key to Eugenia’s apartment. She shifted the strap of her shoulder bag, pulled in a breath that made her lungs protest and started across the parking lot.

  It had rained earlier. Her footsteps were damp, splattering smacks on the pavement. Moonlight mingled with the glow of the security lights, puddling and shifting on the damp black ironwork of the staircase. But she didn’t need daylight to detect Gil’s anger.

  His arms were crossed, his face as rigid as the metal at his back. Her fantasies of an encore of last night died a fast and furious death.

  She blinked vainly against the moist ache of regret and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her light wool jacket. First chance she got, she was making a break for the door. She didn’t care how ridiculous she looked scrambling up the stairs—she’d look a lot worse crying her heart out in the parking lot.

  “I’m guessing this is about more than asking for your key back,” she said. She’d tried for blithe but managed miserable instead.

  “Last night,” he said tightly. “That was about your father, wasn’t it?”