"My dancers are not strippers, Mrs. Pearson. No clothing is removed other than perhaps a cowboy hat, and there are no poles in the building." She fought to keep her voice calm and low, knowing the girls were close by. "The team performs synchronized dance steps, and works very hard to learn the routines. It's fun, provides physical exercise and for the last three years no one has complained."
"When my husband and I moved to Destiny this summer, I took it upon myself to join forces with likeminded citizens who wish to preserve what is good and wholesome and drive out—"
Racy's hands tightened into fists. "As I said, we've had no complaints. Before now."
Donna Pearson's lips thinned into a hard line, then she said, "And that led to your performance last night?"
She should've known her spontaneity would come back to bite her in the ass. Hard. "I join the dancers from time to time."
"You did more than dance last night."
Ah, so she was bothered by that, too. What would Miss High-and-Mighty think if she knew that money was going to the children's area at Destiny's library?
Portions of Racy's tip jar earnings had been buying new books for that often neglected section since she started working at The Blue Creek. Her private homage to one of the few places where she'd found solace and peace as a little girl.
"The Blue Creek has responded to the committee." Racy's voice remained deadpan. She hoped her face was the same. "We're not changing anything."
"Perhaps this list of concerned town folk on the committee will change your mind."
Racy didn't want to, but it was impossible not to look at the paper shoved under her nose. There were only a dozen or so names, but the last one caused her heart to freeze.
Sheriff Gage Steele.
He'd told her he didn't like her dancing on the bar, but she wasn't his wife. Not really. And he'd made it clear last night, while he'd enjoyed having sex with her in Vegas, he wasn't interested in a repeat performance now that they were home. She was sure he'd be on the phone with a new lawyer first thing Monday morning.
But this? She never thought he saw her girls in this way.
The burn of betrayal filled her gut and, what made matters worse, she had no idea why she felt so duped by him.
"I should have known better." Donna huffed, breaking into Racy's thoughts as she shoved her documents back into her folder. "The committee will be holding a hearing on this matter. I haven't lived in Destiny long, but that doesn't mean I don't know its history, or the history of certain citizens. A less than respectable upbringing and trashy lifestyle may lead you to believe this is acceptable—"
That's it. Tolerance level reached. Racy gestured to the door. "It's time for you to leave, Mrs. Pearson."
The woman turned and headed for the front entrance. Racy followed, making sure she didn't spout off to anyone else. Ric Murphy stood nearby and caught her eye. She nodded and he silently opened one of the double glass doors.
Racy waited until the woman stepped outside before she spoke. "I'll be sure to say hello to your husband the next time he drops by."
Mrs. Pearson faltered then continued to a luxury sedan in the parking lot. The direct hit felt good, but the humiliation over the woman's words burned deep.
It was a familiar feeling. A longtime companion from when she was a kid. It hadn't taken Racy long to figure out being labeled from the wrong side of the tracks wasn't completely about where she lived. Pretending she didn't care had worked for a while. And she'd tried hard to live up to the gossip during her teens and early twenties, her actions helping to mask the pain.
Now she was looking for respect and independence. Next month she'd have her business degree and she was going to offer to buy The Blue Creek from Max. But the fifty grand she'd won in Vegas, along with what she'd managed to save above and beyond paying for college, wasn't enough. She needed financing and she'd just made the wife of the bank president enemy number one.
Her weekend from hell was complete.
* * *
Gage leaned back in the aged leather chair and listened to the quiet hum as his computer shut down, mentally reviewing what he needed at the liquor store and deli, both planned stops on his way home.
Friday afternoon, one more meeting and his workweek was done. How being sheriff made him a member of the town's betterment committee he still didn't know, but the mayor, the school principal and a few other noted citizens were members, including his mother, so he considered it another one of his civic duties.
So far, the committee had done good things, like building the new playground at the elementary school and bringing in a couple of specialty stores to the downtown area.
A jazzy tune, either Dino or Frank, flowed through his closed office door. Alison, the sheriff department's office manager, had a thing for both crooners. At least she wasn't playing that damn Elvis CD again. Ever since Vegas, he couldn't listen to Elvis, and not just because the man—or an exceptional replica—had officiated at his and Racy's wedding.
Gage grabbed his coffee mug, took a swallow of the now cold liquid and grimaced. Damn, he'd almost done it. Almost gone the whole afternoon without thinking about her.
Since catching her spying on his workout last Sunday, he couldn't be in his sunroom without thinking about those sexy, bed-head curls, the open pajama top and the unzipped jeans that perfectly framed her flat stomach, the piercing in her navel glimmering in the sunlight.
And the glimmering desire in her eyes. For him.
Hell, it was impossible to be anywhere in his house without reliving the memories of last weekend. And if that buzzer on the washing machine hadn't gone off, they would've christened his new leather sofa with a repeat performance of wild sex.
Just like Vegas.
Only Gage didn't want that. Well, yeah he did. Who was he kidding? But ever since that amazing night, both in and out of bed, he'd begun to realize he wanted more. And he wanted it with the woman who happened to be his wife.
Too bad she didn't feel the same way.
He still wasn't sure how they'd gone from fighting about her brothers and career choices to being wrapped in each other's arms, but it felt good—damn good—to find out she remembered their time in Vegas. Previously she'd led him to believe she had no memory of the night's events. But now she'd admitted her memories, and things were a lot less clear-cut.
So instead of acting out any of the numerous fantasies in his head last Sunday morning, he'd gotten her and her dog out of his house as quickly as possible. Then he'd spent most of this past week either in the office or finishing up the lower level bathroom at his place in order to be ready for tonight.
Hell, he'd waited all week to be served with divorce papers. Real ones, this time, but nothing. Five days and not a word from Racy. No, that's not true.
He'd seen her on Wednesday, but only to take Jack home after finding the golden retriever on his front porch when he'd gotten off work. The dog had jumped into his Jeep, plopped on the passenger-side floor mat and seemed to enjoy the blast of hot air from the heater on his ragged, wet fur. Gage had no idea how the dog had gotten from Racy's place to his, but the mutt had seemed pretty happy to see him.
His owner didn't seemed so thrilled, though.
From her bedraggled appearance when she cracked open the door to allow the dog inside, he didn't know if she was sick or hungover. All he got was a weak thanks and then the door shut in his face.
"Am I interrupting?"
Gage looked up. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Surprised to see me?"
"After last night? Yeah."
His mom's still smooth cheeks flushed pink, making her look a decade younger than her fifty-five years. "Well, there's a first time for everything."
"Catching my mother steaming up windows on Make Out Mountain isn't one I'm looking forward to repeating."
Sandy Steele quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Shh!"
"Oh, now you're embarrassed?"
"You watch your tone, Gage Mitch
ell Steele." His mother's facial features shifted from flustered to stern in a heartbeat.
"Or what? You're going to stop talking to me like the rest of the family?"
Her fingers tightened on the quilted purse she clasped to her chest. "I came to walk with you to the betterment committee meeting." She turned to go. "I can see now that was a mistake."
Okay, he was a jerk.
Gage rose. "Mom, wait."
She didn't, and he had to grab his jacket and Stetson, and send Alison a quick wave as he rushed out the door. He hated that his brother and sisters were still giving him the cold shoulder, but that was no excuse for his behavior.
He slid to a stop to keep from crashing into his mother as she stood just outside the front door, depositing mail in a mailbox.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
She turned, a serene smile back on her face. "I know. I also know you don't normally snap at me. Has my dating Hank Jarvis really thrown you for such a loop?"
Gage slapped his Stetson on his head. "Can I admit hearing you even say the word dating bothers me?"
She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. It had snowed twice in the last week, but the sun was shining this afternoon, and the sidewalk was clear. The town hall was in the next block just past the square. Gage followed his mother's lead past his Jeep, knowing she wanted to walk.
"It's been ten years since your father died, and Hank is a good man." She squeezed his arm. "He lost his true love over twenty-five years ago and we've been friends all our lives. Is it so wrong for us to want to spend time together?"
"Playing bingo is one thing. Making out in his truck is another."
Her soft laughter frosted the cold air. "Gina happens to think it's a great idea I'm doing more than decorating cakes and picking up after the twins."
Gage snorted. "Gina doesn't have the best judgment at the moment."
"She told me about your offer to help her find a job."
"Which she turned down flat."
"And how you tried to influence Max and Racy Dillon into firing her."
He busied himself with nodding hellos at passersby, using the few moments to control his reaction to her name. "You can't be happy with her working at The Blue Creek, either."
"Gina is an adult and can make her own career decisions. She dedicated herself to her education when she was just a child and I'd never seen her as excited as when she got the fellowship in London. But something caused her to walk away from that experience and return home."
"She hasn't told you what happened?"
His mother shook her head. "She keeps things buried deep, like your father. Like you. For now, I need to be satisfied she knows what she doesn't want."
"She doesn't want me meddling in her life."
"Oh, that's not true." She stopped and tugged on Gage's arm until he turned to look at her. "She loves her big brother, just as much as the twins do. Garrett was so excited when he got an early acceptance letter from Duke University yesterday, he couldn't wait to tell you."
Gage's heart swelled. His younger brother had dreamed of being a Blue Devil since middle school. They'd toiled over his college application. To know he'd been accepted filled him with pride, but it was tinged with hurt that he'd heard the news secondhand.
"But he didn't call."
"Giselle reminded him they would be missing tonight's bonfire and skating party because they're still grounded."
"Thanks to me."
"And me. I agreed with grounding them for the month." Sandy started walking again. Gage fell into step beside her. "Don't worry, they'll come around. They're just chafing at your authority. You know, you've spent the last ten years being more like a dad to them than a brother. I was so lost when your father was killed. I relied on you to take care of them, of us."
"Mom, it was my choice to come home. I wanted to take care of my family."
"And you have, just like you've taken care of this town. But I think you're the one who needs to find some companionship, son." She moved to allow Gage to pull open the door to Destiny's Town Hall. "Fill that big, beautiful house of yours with a wife and lots of grandchildren for me to spoil."
A flood of heat filled him and he didn't know if it was his mother's words or stepping inside the building that had done it. He yanked down the zipper on his jacket as they entered the small meeting room. It didn't help.
A wife he had. He just didn't know for how long. Kids? Yeah, he'd always planned on having a handful, but he'd never found the right girl.
An image popped into his head.
His hands caressing a swollen belly, whispering nonsense over warm, tight skin as delicate fingers combed through his hair and caressed his neck. Looking up and finding a pair of chocolate-brown eyes shining with love and affection for him and their child.
"Racy Dillon."
Gage jerked from the fantasy when he heard Racy's name echo across the room. The fellow members of the committee sat around the table, in the midst of what looked like a heated argument.
"I'm telling you," Donna Pearson raised her voice to be heard over the din. "Miss Dillon and her dancers have to go. Her actions fall under the town's lewd and indecent bylaws. Sheriff Steele—" she caught Gage in a hard stare "—you're just the man to shut her down."
Chapter Eight
"W hat's your poison?"
"The usual." Devlin Murphy leaned against the bar and propped his arms on the smooth wood surface. He looked at Gage. "You're quiet tonight."
Gage popped the top off a cold root beer and handed it to his longtime friend. He watched Dev take a long swallow, knowing it was the closest the man had been to the real thing in four years. "You noticed, huh?"
"Despite the festivities." His friend waved the bottle at the center of the room, then lowered his voice. "You want to talk about it?"
Gage considered the offer. His and Dev's friendship had taken root in high school and never wavered despite the many times spent on opposite sides of a jail cell over the years.
When Dev had finally admitted to a drinking problem, Gage had been his ride to his AA meetings. When Gage had been ready to make his dream home a reality, Murphy Mountain Log Homes had been there for him.
Now, thanks to his friend's company, they were standing in the lower-level game room of said dream house. And at the moment, the room was filled with men, all here for the time-honored tradition known as a bachelor party.
Landon Cartwright had arrived an hour ago with a group that included the four cowboys who worked for him, his brother and his best friend, a lawyer from Texas who was also standing up for him at the wedding next weekend. Gage had greeted them with drinks and food and managed to look Hank Jarvis in the eye, oddly satisfied when the older man held his gaze.
"Did you hear me?" Dev asked.
"Yeah." Gage lowered his voice, staying just loud enough to be heard over the man-talk happening at the pool table. "I've got a lot on my mind."
Dev grabbed some chips, scooped up cheesy dip from a nearby bowl and tossed it all into his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then spoke. "Anything I can do?"
"Nah, it's nothing I can't handle."
He hoped.
The betterment committee meeting had gone longer than expected, with Donna Pearson ranting about Racy and the Blue Creek Belles. After a while, he wasn't sure if she was only interested in stopping the Belles or closing down the bar entirely. Either way, it was clear she wanted to get rid of Racy in the process.
He'd been surprised to learn about the letter the committee had sent to Max a month ago and of Donna's visit to The Blue Creek last Sunday. Both of which must have ticked off Racy to no end. From Donna's attitude, and knowing Racy like he did, he'd bet the fiery redhead's response had probably included a shot or two at the chairwoman's expense.
He'd tried to calm everyone, but Donna had a talent for whipping the members into an uproar, especially when she'd announced a hearing was scheduled for tomorrow with the town's selectmen and that a notice had been delivered to the b
ar's management.
Gage knew Max had gone to Florida for a couple of weeks of sun and golf. That left Racy to convince the town leaders her waitresses should be allowed to provide entertainment in their own way. He was sure she would arrive at the hearing full of attitude, and the end result would be one of the town's favorite distractions being outlawed.
A plan to fix this situation—for the town, the waitresses and for Racy—had formed inside his head as the meeting had ended. He'd been on his cell phone right up until his first guests had arrived. He hoped it would be enough.
"Is it the Dillon boys?"
Dev's question surprised him. "What makes you say that?"
The Sheriff's Secret Wife Page 11
