by Edie Ramer
“Okay.” She remembered his sound tests. “Should I talk about Trish and Gunner?”
“Tell us about your skirt,” Gabe said.
“My skirt?” She laughed. “It’s my church skirt.”
“You go to church often?”
She shook her head. “Only with friends on special occasions. My dad only goes to church on weddings or funerals. My grandmother was pretty much the same way.”
“Your family doesn’t believe in God?”
“Sure. Well, Gram did. My dad believes there’s something out there. Some higher power that has the secret to everything and leaks it out a little at a time. On a need-to-know basis.”
Taz laughed, and she relaxed. It was like being back in her kitchen with her pies and the awareness of Gabe thrumming through her. “He likes to say you don’t even have to be good to catch the secrets. You just have to be paying attention.”
“Did you ever catch it?”
“Maybe. My dad said he tastes the higher power in my pies.”
“Amen,” Taz said.
“You have a great dad,” Gabe said.
“Sometimes I think how lucky I am, and it fills me up.” She pressed her hand over her breastbone. “I have a great dad, a great dog, great friends. And I make pies for a living. I’m blessed. That’s why I want to do this for Trish and Gunner. I think if you are as blessed as I am, you need to share it or it will go away.”
“I know a lot of nasty rich people,” Taz said, “and their money just seems to multiply.”
“In this life it multiplies.” She scrunched her face. “You don’t want to know what’s going to happen to them in the next go-round.”
Both men laughed, and she grinned. “When are we going to start?” she asked.
“You just did,” Gabe said, then he and Taz laughed again at her dropped jaw.
She clamped her mouth shut. “That’s not funny. You can start asking me questions now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe nodded at her. “Tell us who you are and what you do.”
“I’m Katie Guthrie,” she said, glad that he wasn’t using what she said already, “and I make pies for a living.”
“I understand this was your idea.”
She was shaking her head before he finished. “Rosa is the evil genius behind this. It was my idea to raffle off pies, and I thought other villagers might join me to help Trish and Gunner. I went to Rosa first. She thought of doing the videos, then she ran with it.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Yes. The whole village is excited and happy to help our friends. This is a big thing.”
“A miracle was prophesied last spring. Do you think this fundraiser is the miracle?”
“I think this is something people should be willing to do for each other.”
“Do you believe in miracles?”
She looked him in his eyes, and for a second, it felt as if it were just him and her. No Taz, no camera, no boom. Just him, just her. Rays of light circling them, so bright they blocked off anyone else.
“Yes. And I believe in angels, too.”
He stared at her for a long moment, dead silence in the room. “That’s it,” he said finally.
Taz pulled the boom away from above her. She got up silently then ran her hands down her hips and upper thighs, smoothing wrinkles from her skirt. Then she nodded and walked out, feeling their gazes on her, the air charged with electricity.
Chapter Thirty-one
Katie left but the current stayed, humming through Gabe for the rest of the day. He and Taz shortened the process but only finished twenty interviews before they stopped at four o’clock. The last subject was an attractive college student who’d come home for the day to do this because Trish had been her babysitter when she was young. She said she loved Trish and wanted the best for her. When Gabe asked her what else she loved, she said, “Coldplay.”
Immediately Taz said, “Me, too!”
Apparently the appreciation for the same band had formed an instant bond, as she and Taz left with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.
Taking longer to pack up, Gabe wondered what band Katie liked. What music she listened to in the early morning as she made her pies. Did she hum along? Her hips swaying? Or—
Footsteps on the wooden floor brought his eyes to Rosa. She wore a red top and black slacks, and probably every man who came into Mo’s to eat tonight, from thirteen to ninety, would check her out before the menu. She had the old-time stripper figure that even gay men appreciated.
Katie didn’t have that. She had something else that Gabe couldn’t define. Something that pulled him to her as if she were a giant magnet and he a small nail.
“Everyone came out of your interview smiling.” Rosa bestowed upon him an approving nod. “You’re good.”
“I try.”
“You don’t try, you do. I know you said the first fifty, but I’d like to—”
“No.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not listening to what I have to say.”
“If you want me to do more than fifty, you’ll have to pay me more.”
“This is for charity.”
“I’m charging half my usual rate.”
“Someone else might have done it for free.”
“Then you should’ve asked someone else.”
“Trish and Gunner need help now. I don’t have time to vet filmmakers.”
He shrugged. “I’m here. I’m good. You’re lucky to have me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What if Katie agreed to go out with you? Would that change your mind?”
He stilled. “Exactly what are you suggesting?”
“I said out with you. Nothing more.” She put a hand to the side of her head, pushing up her dark hair. “Why does everyone think I’m pimping out Katie?”
“Listen to what you say.” He packed up the rest of his equipment. “You have thirty more appointments. If someone is important, you can stick them in there.”
“You were much nicer the last time you were here.”
Looking at the frustration on her face, he shook his head. “You’re a crazy woman.”
“I don’t think I’m asking too much.”
“Five extra interviews. That’s it.”
“Ten.”
He picked up his lighting and camera equipment. “Five or none.”
Her nostrils pinched and her jaw set. “Okay, five.” She turned to leave.
“Don’t forget to say thank you.”
With a laugh, she glanced back at him. “Have dinner here. It’s on me. Be here in an hour.”
He watched her leave and wondered what she was planning.
***
“Come to Mo’s for dinner tonight at six,” Rosa said.
“I have leftovers.” Katie looked at the pecan-apple pie on the counter. Her Happy Pie. There had been moments of happiness during the day. A breathless delight when she was interviewed by Gabe. The sense of being 100% alive, with all her cells sparking, her emotions dancing.
But now she was home and that flush of emotion had washed away, leaving her feeling like a kid after a ride on the giant roller coaster, sad because none of the other rides would be half as thrilling.
“I talked Mo into putting my lasagna on his menu,” Rosa said. “All those years we had to eat Mike’s old-fashioned lasagna. Mine is healthier and better. It has squash and spinach, and you will die for it.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“Then you’ll live for it. You’ll want to eat it every day for a week. After that, you’ll just want to eat it one day a week.”
“Another time I’d love to come, but I’ve been up since three this morning. I have a good book to read, and I’ll probably go to bed early.”
“I need you. Not enough people are ordering my lasagna. They read squash and spinach and think it’s health food. No one in Miracle wants to eat health food. You can eat my lasagna and tell everyone how good it is.”
/>
“Why not have your boys do it?”
“They’re my sons. People won’t believe them. I have a surprise guest coming, too. You won’t want to miss this guest.”
“You’re not going to tell me who it is, are you?”
“Nope.”
“It’s not Gabe, is it?”
“I’m not a matchmaker, if that’s what you’re thinking. You should know that right now I’m not a fan of any matches.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for my suspicions.” And a little sorry it wasn’t Gabe, she admitted to herself. “I’ll come. I’ll eat. I’ll enjoy. I’ll rave. I’ll talk to your surprise guest.” Trish, Katie thought. It would feel like old times sitting across a table from Trish and talking about anything and everything. “Will that make you happy?”
“Be there at six. I’ll reserve a table in your name.” Rosa hung up.
Katie stood, still holding the phone. When the phone rang, she’d half expected to hear Gabe on the other end. After all, he was the reason she’d baked her Happy Pie.
She could call him. He would come. She knew it.
But in the end it would be a booty call.
She set down the phone. It wasn’t sex she wanted from Gabe. It was to gaze into his blue eyes and see them sparkle at her.
It was to admire his smile with the dimple lines.
It was to just breathe the same air as him. To talk to him with that electricity zigzagging between them, as if Thor was in heaven, looking down at them and throwing thunderbolts.
With a shiver she crossed her arms. Her kitchen had always been her calm center. Her safe place. But lately she never knew what might happen anywhere. Even here.
It could be something wonderful...or something terrible.
Right now, both choices scared her.
Needing to move, to do something, she turned to her pantry and pulled out the flour, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon. Then she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out butter and cream. She slid open the overlarge fruit drawer. And just stared into it. For the first time in her life, not knowing what pie to make.
Chapter Thirty-two
Gabe had expected Mo’s Place to be nearly empty, people relieved to be back in their comfortable and quiet homes. Instead it was crowded, the noise level high with punctuations of laughter. The air shimmered with expectation.
Gabe suspected they were waiting for their miracle.
Good luck to them. He’d had his miracle at a young age and wasn’t expecting to get struck with a miracle twice. For tonight, he only expected a good meal.
He swept his gaze around the room, searching for Rosa. Past the bar area with the booths on the sides and in front of the long window then into the dining area—
His gaze stopped.
His heart stopped.
One beat. The next beat his heart thumped to life. Stronger than before. Energy pumped into it. Pumped into every cell of his body.
In the far corner Katie sat at a table for two. He strode toward her. Someone called his name. He nodded, waved and kept walking.
As if she felt his intensity, she looked up and her mouth opened in an O. And her face...it softened the way a mother’s did when her child walked in. The way a child’s did, spotting a puppy.
He sat across from her. He wasn’t her puppy, but he wouldn’t mind being her man.
While he was here.
The thought saddened him, and her eyebrows indented in a slight frown. “Rosa said she had a surprise guest coming and our dinner was on her. She told me it wasn’t you. I thought it was going to be Trish.”
“Disappointed?”
Her forehead smoothed and she shook her head. “I don’t disappoint easy.”
He nodded. It made sense. When someone lived the first five years of their life with an addict who liked you best when you hardly spoke, it didn’t give you high expectations of life.
No wonder she lived in her dead grandmother’s house and was content to make pies. No wonder she was content with her dog, her father and her friends. Miracle was her safe place. A place that allowed her to thrive.
“What about you?” she asked.
It took him a second to remember he’d asked if she was disappointed. Her hand was on the table, and he covered it with his.
She glanced up, her eyes startled. “By the end of the night, nearly everyone in Miracle will be talking about this.”
“Everyone?”
“Pretty much.”
“Including your dad?”
Her lips twisted in a smile. “Oh, he’ll know.”
He smiled back. As if this were a game. And it was. A very old game. “Does he have a shotgun?”
“This is hunting country. In Miracle, shotguns and rifles are part of the male rite of passage. Though quite a few women hunt, too.” She leaned toward him, and he leaned toward her. “But he won’t use it on you.”
“Good to know.”
“I hoped it would be.”
Her smile widened, and it was like the sun shining from her to him. Tension slowly eased out of his tightened muscles like toxins leaking out of a room.
Rosa stopped in front of them. He hadn’t noticed her coming. “Dinner’s on me,” she said.
“Lobster?” Sitting back, he lifted an eyebrow.
“Go out and catch one. I’ll throw it in a pot for you myself.”
“Are you matchmaking?” he asked.
Katie pulled her hand from beneath his. He slid his back to his end of the table. Not out of the game yet.
“I’m not a big believer in making matches.” Rosa shrugged, her breasts following the movements of her shoulders.
“What do you believe in?” Katie asked.
Rosa squeezed Katie’s shoulder. “I believe that you’re my good friend, and I want to see you stretch beyond your safety zone, even if it’s just for a couple days.” She pitched her voice low, so only the two of them could hear her. “You don’t want to be my age and have regrets. You don’t want to be any age with regrets. I see the need in your eyes—” She glanced at Gabe and back to Katie. “In both your eyes. If you don’t take advantage of this small pleasure, I have the feeling you’ll be sorry.”
Katie’s gaze shifted to him. In her eyes he saw confusion and darkness. She blinked then looked back to Rosa.
“There’s more to life than what goes on in your kitchen,” Rosa said in the same low tone. Then she straightened and turned to Gabe. “You like Italian?”
Right now, Gabe loved Italian. He put his right thumb and first two fingers to his mouth and kissed them. Rosa laughed. “I’ll make your dinner choice. You’ll love it.” She snapped around and hurried away.
“So this was a set-up,” he said.
Katie nodded, not saying anything, just staring at him, as if she were considering everything Rosa said.
“I don’t know about you, but Rosa nailed me.” He didn’t take his stare from Katie’s face. Her eyes blinked and her mouth parted, as if for a kiss. “When you left today, it felt like a piece of me went with you.”
Her eyebrows went up, her eyes widened.
He frowned. Until he said the words, he hadn’t realized how badly he wanted her. “I’m probably scaring the hell out of you. You can leave. Don’t worry, I won’t stalk you.”
“I have a question first.”
“What?”
“Your motel room or my house?”
Chapter Thirty-three
Gabe smiled so widely he thought anyone looking at him would know how he felt. “Anywhere you say. I feel combustible.”
“And I’m melting.” Katie smiled back at him, a come-to-bed smile.
“Melting like the Wicked Witch of the West?” he asked.
“Idiot. I’m melting like the richest, most revered, most expensive chocolate. Slowly and delectably.”
He stifled a groan. She was killing him. “If you were a pie right now, what would you be called?”
“That’s easy. Sex.” She looked up at the waitress stopping by their ta
ble. “But here’s our food first.”
He nodded. First fill the hunger in their bellies. Then they’d fill the big one that started in their senses, in their brains. That made everything sharper, more exciting, with promises in the air and in their eyes while their skin prickled and their heart thundered. And then that excitement and promise sizzled downward.
He grabbed his fork to dig into his food. When you were offered something wonderful, you wanted to grab it, taste it, touch it and enjoy every second before it ended.
Maybe they couldn’t make a beautiful life together, but they would damn well make beautiful memories.
***
Inside Katie’s back hall, she knelt and hugged the Beagle greeting her and Gabe. Her heart was so full of expectations, it was amazing she hadn’t danced around Mo’s entire restaurant and bar area, hugging and kissing everyone. She’d only refrained because then they would know.
Some things she didn’t want the whole village to know. From the gazes she’d felt as she left, she knew they guessed. But at least she hadn’t jumped on the bar and shouted, “I love this man!”
After she let Happy out, Gabe said, “She must hear something.”
“Because she was waiting?” Katie hung up their jackets, thinking it wouldn’t be long before their clothes followed. “I’ve read studies about dogs who knew their special person was coming home even though it wasn’t their normal time. Even when their people were miles away. Dogs must have a sixth sense.”
“They’re connected the way we’re connected.”
“I know.” Her voice was breathy as she led the way into the kitchen. That’s why she’d made the Happy Pie this morning. The pies talked to her first. The man second.
That was one thing she was keeping to herself. No man liked being second to a pie.
Before she finished the thought, he scooped her up and put her on the end of the cooking island. “This is where the magic happens, isn’t it?”
Her breath caught in her lungs, stopping her words. She nodded and gave a long exhale. She was melting again. Melting with desire.
A howl came. Then another. “Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
