“So…what aspect of the Zooks’ beliefs don’t you agree with?”
She tipped her head in thought. “Well, their views on the roles of women in society are rather…antiquated.”
He hummed his agreement.
“And I don’t think modern conveniences are sinful. On the contrary, in the middle of an August heat wave, air conditioning is a blessing. A gift from God, in my opinion.” She angled a smile at him, and he nodded.
“No argument here.”
“And I think their—”
Gage’s fingers brushed the back of her neck, and she nearly came out of her skin. The rest of her thought vanished, the words disappearing from her tongue like sugar dissolved in hot water.
When he settled his hand against her neck and gently kneaded the muscles at her nape, a rush of sweet, hot sensation skittered the length of her body. Her scalp tingled. Her heart thundered. All her nerve endings jangled and fired.
Kate drew a steadying breath into her lungs. Calm down. Don’t make a fool of yourself!
Easier said than done when his electric touch made her want to roll over at his feet and beg for more like an eager puppy.
But good heavens, if she had a tail, it would be wagging. She swallowed hard, fighting back a moan of pleasure.
“Want to watch a m-movie?” she croaked, spoiling any illusion of composure.
“Sure. If you don’t think the noise will wake Janet.”
“It shouldn’t. She sleeps pretty soundly. And we’ll keep the volume low.”
His courtesy, thinking of Janet’s needs, touched Kate. The more she knew about Gage, the more he reminded her of a knight of old. Gallantry, courage, sacrifice…and a fine physique to go with it all. But why couldn’t he bring himself to smile more often, to laugh, to enjoy life? What troubling event in his past had he been remembering the other day when the truck backfired outside the diner?
She wanted to ask him about it, but feared the question was far too personal for this stage of their relationship.
Relationship? she thought as she scooted off the couch and crawled a few feet to her video cabinet. The term made it sound like she was dating Gage, when in truth, he was merely doing her a favor, standing guard against Larry showing up and causing problems.
Yet, you’ve dealt with Larry on your own in the past, her conscience argued. Why did you really call Gage tonight?
She stared at the titles of her movies and frowned. If she were honest with herself, Larry had been an excuse to some degree. Sure, he could be violent and unpredictable. And sure, he scared her, worrying her as to how far he might go some nights when he was in a rage. And yes, Gage did make her feel safer, provide the extra security she craved for just in case. But she wanted Gage there, with her, for other reasons. She—
Gage’s chest bumped her back, and she caught her breath. He’d materialized behind her while she was distracted by her justifications. Now, leaning forward, reaching past her to pull a DVD from her collection, he said, “You have a lot of old movies here. Don’t you like anything Hollywood is doing these days?”
“Well, nothing I think you’d like. I keep more recent movies in another cabinet, but they’re mostly chick flicks.”
“And what is it you think I’d like?” His tone was curiously light, and she turned to meet his gaze before answering. He arched one eyebrow, and a tiny grin tugged the corner of his mouth.
“I’ve got you pegged as a fan of guy-type movies, the kind with explosions and big guns shooting, and skimpily clad women who need the action hero to save them from their own stupidity.”
“I have no objections to skimpily clad women. Rather enjoy them, in fact.”
“I see.” Kate turned back to the selection of DVDs again, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks thanks to the deep purr in his voice. Okay, she’d set herself up for that one….
“But I’ve actually had about all the explosions and gunfire I can take for the foreseeable future,” he added quietly.
“Then what do you like?”
He grunted. “You promise not to laugh?”
“No.” She glance back at him over her shoulder, a mischievous grin twisting her mouth. “I love to laugh. Especially if something is funny.” She turned her body so she faced him more fully. “Is there something funny about the kind of movies you like?”
“Uh, well…something stupid maybe. Mindless and goofy.” He took a deep breath as if bracing for a deeply personal confession. “I generally like the big, dumb comedies with the pratfalls and bathroom humor and blatant sexual innuendo and sight gags and main characters getting hit in the crotch or bit on the ass by a little Chihuahua or something. Frat party kind of humor.”
She goggled at him. “Seriously?”
He lifted a corner of his mouth in an embarrassed-looking grin. “Afraid so. I’m not proud of it, but…well, those are the kind of movies that provide escape for me. If I watch a movie, I don’t want heavy emotion or reminders of what’s wrong with the world. I’ve lived the whole shoot-’em-up thing, so when I’m not critiquing the director for what he got wrong about warfare and guns, I’m thinking how I get enough blood and fighting in my real life.”
Kate held his gaze, staring deeply into the fathomless blue depths and realizing he’d just bared a part of his soul to her.
After a moment, he seemed to realize this as well, and he jerked his gaze away, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Anyway, I doubt you have anything like that, so…we can watch whatever you want.”
Kate drew an unsteady breath and considered the movies in her cabinet again. “How about The Pink Panther? The original movie with Peter Sellers?”
His face brightened, and he cocked one eyebrow. “‘I thought you said your dag didn’t bite!’” he said with a comical accent.
“‘That’s not my dag,’” she said, her lips twitching and her voice equally thick with accent.
His cheek twitched, then a chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Classic.”
She added her chuckle to his, then thought of another silly scene from the movie and laughed harder.
“What?” Humor and curiosity lit his eyes.
She tried to tell him which of Peter Sellers’s goofy antics had tickled her, but an uncontrolled fit of giggles overcame her, and all she could do was laugh and wipe happy tears from her eyes. Before long, he’d caught her case of giggles, and he loosed a rich melodic laugh to join hers. The sweet sound filled her, thrilled her, and the smile that sculpted dimples in his cheeks and laugh lines at his eyes transformed his face. When he smiled, Gage Prescott was simply breathtaking.
Without thinking, Kate reached for him and stroked a hand along the side of his face. “Oh, wow,” she said breathless from her bout of giggles, “you should do that more often. You have a terrific smile.”
Her palm slid over the scratchy stubble on his cheek, and the sensation sent a thrum through her. He must have sensed when she realized the intimacy of her touch, because right when she would have snatched her hand back, he covered her hand with his own and curled his fingers around hers.
“I’ll have a smile for you anytime you ask,” he murmured and carried her hand to his mouth. When he pressed a tender kiss to her palm, her body felt as if it had burst into flame, starting with a stinging blush in her cheeks. Her breath stumbled as it left her lungs, and she couldn’t have pulled her gaze from his if she’d wanted to.
What was happening to her? She’d never been so forward with a man before, never been so enchanted by a pair of stormy blue eyes and the hard slash of a mouth. But suddenly all she could think of was how it would feel to have Gage kiss her. To kiss him back. And more.
On the street outside, a car door slammed, and the sound yanked her from her wayward thoughts. She tore her gaze from his and, with a shaking hand, slid The Pink Panther from her DVD collection.
“So…shall we watch it? I like to hear you laugh. You’ve been far too serious since you arrived in Maple Cove, Mr. Prescott. Life is too short to waste time f
rowning.”
“Have I been that bad?” His hand rested on her shoulder then skimmed lightly down her arm as she moved away to her DVD player.
“Afraid so. There’s a reason you’ve been so stingy with your handsome smile? Is guarding the senator really that nasty a job?”
She cued up the DVD and turned the television to the right channel.
“When I’m working, I need to be alert to everything around me, any possible hazard, and be prepared to act. I can’t allow myself to be distracted by things that—”
“Make you smile?” she finished for him. “Is smiling, laughing, really such a drain on your attention?”
“Maybe it’s not the smiling so much as who makes me smile and why that is distracting.” He arched his eyebrow again and gave a little nod toward her.
She pointed to herself and mouthed, “Who, me?”
His face brightened, and she had her answer.
She made him smile? The idea sent a giddy trill through her.
The movie started, and she lowered the volume so they wouldn’t wake Janet, then joined him on her couch. He draped his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his protective warmth, tucking her feet beneath her.
“Are you sure you want to watch a movie? Don’t you have to get up early for the diner?”
“Normally, I do, but tomorrow is my day off—sort of.” She sighed. “I have to do some baking for the diner in a couple of hours, but then I can nap. I can send the desserts and so forth to the diner with Janet.”
She watched the movie, snuggled in the crook of Gage’s arm and savoring the sound of his quiet laugh when the bumbling Inspector Clouseau caused one mishap after another.
When the movie ended, she rose reluctantly from the security of his arm around her and stretched to work the kinks from her muscles. “I have pies to bake and rolls to start rising. Want to help me?”
Gage flipped his wrist to check the time.
Kate’s gut clenched guiltily. She’d monopolized his time for hours. “I don’t want to keep you if you need to get back to the Kelleys’ ranch. I just thought—”
He held up a hand to forestall her argument. “I’d like to see you in action. Lead the way.”
Savoring the thought of a little more time with him, she took his hand and walked him to her kitchen where her baking pans and ingredients were already lined up waiting for her morning baking.
When they entered the kitchen, her cat, Sinatra, a pure-bred white Persian, stood in his cat bed and stretched. Sinatra meowed, requesting his breakfast, and before she started mixing up a batch of rolls, she poured her kitty companion a large bowl of food and set it on the floor.
Gage regarded the fluffy feline with an odd expression, and she wondered what he must think of her rather girly pet. The guys she knew generally avoided fluff-ball cats.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when he continued to stare at the cat with a quirk in his brow.
“His eyes are different colors,” he said, finally shifting his gaze from Sinatra to her.
“Yeah. I think it gives him character, but the breeder who owned him abandoned him because of his mismatched eyes. Then his second owner shut him out on a balcony overnight, and he fell three floors and was lost for two weeks before he showed up again.”
Gage cocked his head and blinked slowly. “He fell three stories and survived?”
Kate nodded. “Survived, but is brain-damaged. He likes to stare off into space at nothing. Poor dumb guy.” She ruffled Sinatra’s long fur. “That he survived alone for two weeks with all the predator animals in these parts is pretty amazing, too. When his second owner decided to get rid of him, I adopted him. I felt sorry for the brain-damaged, mismatched-eyed goofball. Isn’t that right, Sinatra boy?”
When she glanced up from patting her cat, Gage was staring at her, grinning. She tipped her head. “Now what?”
“You. Adopting an outcast cat, leaving your life in Ohio to protect your sister, feeding ranchers, baking eclairs for the new guy in town… You take care of everyone.” He paused and his expression sobered. “But who takes care of you?”
His question burrowed to her marrow. In Ohio, she could say unequivocally that the Zooks had her back and took care of her when she needed someone. Since moving to Montana last year, she’d made friends, but none as dear as Emma and her Amish family. Her life, except for Sinatra, was rather lonely. She worked, then came home to sleep, then rose early to work again, holding down two jobs, as the diner’s baker as well as a full-time waitress.
Without answering, Kate began arranging her bowls and measuring cups in preparation for making yeast rolls.
Gage moved up beside her. “Well, Kate? Does anyone take care of you?”
“I do.”
“And?”
She shot him a glance. “Why? Are you volunteering for the job?”
Oh, heavens! Where had that come from? She didn’t want him to think she was pressuring him for some kind of commitment!
“For as long as I’m in town, if I’m not on duty guarding the senator, I’m happy to help you out however I can.”
Kate opened the storage jar of flour and dug several scoops out to dump in her bowl. All the qualifiers in his response spoke for themselves. His presence in her life was temporary. His priority was his job, and he was simply on loan to her during his off hours.
Though she knew all of this going in, the reminder stung. She’d let herself fall a little in love with Gage and all his charming, protective and honorable attributes. But she needed a man who would put family first. Someone who would stick around, not drift through town while on assignment. She needed someone who could give her his heart, who could open himself to her and share his deepest fears, aspirations and desires with her.
Which ruled Gage out on every count.
“That’s the way. Great!” Kate said as Gage took over kneading the dough for the rolls with sharp thrusts of his palms. “You’re a quick study, Mr. Prescott.”
“It’s not exactly rocket science,” he said with a grin.
She lifted her chin with a haughty sniff. “Perhaps not, but I think good baking is an art.”
As she turned back to the bowl of batter she was stirring, Gage swore he saw a frown line dimple her forehead. Had his comment hurt her feelings? The last thing he wanted to do was insult her profession, especially when she was so good at her job.
“Well, maybe I think it’s easy because you’re a good teacher.” He cast a side glance toward her and bumped her hip with his.
“Thanks.” The shy smile that curved her lips said he was forgiven.
As he worked the raw rolls, the dough started clinging to his fingers. “Is it supposed to be sticky like this?”
She glanced over. “Oh. No. It needs more flour.” She dusted the counter and his hands with flour, stepped behind him and reached around, encircling him with her arms. Covering his hands with hers, she drove his palms into the dough. “Try it like this. Push the dough with the heel of your hand. Don’t squeeze it.”
For more than two hours, he’d helped Kate prepare baked goods for the diner—carrot cake, blueberry muffins, banana bread and cherry pie. Her kitchen smelled as though a bread truck had crashed into a fruit stand. All the sweet, fruity, yeasty scents that always clung to Kate now filled her home and made his mouth water. But the press of her petite body against his ignited more than his hunger. He longed to pull her close and kiss her flour-smudged face, sample her sweet strawberry lips.
Flipping his hands over, he laced his goo-coated fingers with hers, transferring the sticky mess to her hands. He let a low rumbling chuckle roll from his throat. “Gotcha.”
“Hey!” she said laughing. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you close. Right where I want you.” He managed to pivot to face her without dropping her messy hands, then tugged her against his chest. She raised a wide-eyed look to him, blinking her surprise. The vein in her neck fluttered, giving away the quickening of her pulse. She
nervously wet her lips, and his gaze locked on her mouth.
Damn but he wanted her! He dipped his head, heard her inhale a shallow, quick breath, and he brushed his lips along hers. A sensation like warm honey spread through his blood. His body hummed with building desire, and he felt her tremble.
“Kate…” he whispered, “I want—”
With a nerve-rattling trill, her phone rang and she pulled away. Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and her chest heaved as she gulped air. Stiffly, she moved to the phone on the counter. When she glanced at the caller ID, she frowned. Using the tip of one dough-covered finger, she punched the speaker button and said, “Larry, do you know what time it is?”
“Past time for Janet to get herself back home, that’s for sure.”
“She’s asleep, like most people are at this hour.”
“You’re up.”
“I’m baking for the diner. I always start early. I have to if it’s going to be fresh each day.”
“Whose truck is that that’s been outside your house all night?” Larry asked.
Kate stiffened. “How would you know what’s been parked at my house?”
“I drove by looking for Janet’s car, of course.”
“More than once, I take it.”
“What if I did? Who you got in there with you?”
She glanced at Gage, then away. “I asked a friend to come over—not that it’s any of your business.”
“If Janet’s there, it’s my business.” Larry mumbled something else under his breath then asked, “Is it a man? You got a man there? Is Janet sleeping with this guy at your house, thinking she can hide it from me?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Janet is not sleeping with anyone at my house or anywhere else. Jeepers, Larry! When are you going to give her some credit and stop questioning every little thing she does? Your jealousy is wrecking your marriage…among other things.” She added the last under her breath.
“It is a guy, isn’t it? She’s got a man in there, don’t she?” Larry ranted. “Who is it?”
“Have you ever considered that if there is a man at my house, maybe he’s here to see me?” Kate jammed her hands back into the dough and gave the mixture a vicious squeeze.
Special Ops Bodyguard Page 10
