“I like listening to you talk.”
She sipped from her Solo cup, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful face. “We’ll probably never see each other again...” She caught her lower lip between her pretty teeth. He longed to lean close and bite that lip for her.
As he considered his chances of stealing a kiss, a giant raindrop plopped on the basket. It was quickly followed by more.
They both glanced skyward—and with a flash of lightning and a hard crack of thunder, the heavens opened up in a downpour. They’d been so wrapped up in each other, neither of them had noticed that the clouds had grown thick and dark.
Mel let out an adorable shriek of surprised laughter as Custard gave a nervous whinny. “I’m soaked to the skin already!”
“Let’s get out of here!”
She laughed again. “Good idea.”
He helped her reload the basket, feeling a twinge of regret as she dumped the remaining wine out on the now-streaming ground.
He put on his wet hat. “I’ll get the blanket.” She stepped off it as he grabbed it up. “Come on. I’ll take you to your car.” Tossing the soaked wad of vinyl-backed flannel in front of the saddle horn, he untied Custard’s reins. “Give me the basket.”
“Wait—there’s not enough room for both of us in that saddle.”
“I know.” The rain was a solid sheet of water pouring from the sky, loud enough he had to raise his voice to be heard over it. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“It’s not necess—”
“Yeah, it is.” Gently, he took the basket from her and tied it to the saddle. “Okay then. Let’s go.”
She took his offered hand, her skin cool and soft and dripping wet. They started up the rise, the rain a curtain all around them, Custard right behind them. It was a very wet walk, but at least it was quick.
At her Audi, she pressed her key fob to open the back hatch as he untied the basket. He handed it over and then gave her the muddy blanket. She tossed both inside and pressed the fob again to shut the hatch.
“Thank you, Gabe!” She stood there under the continued onslaught of the rain, gazing up at him through thick, wet eyelashes as water plastered her hair to her head and shoulders. It also streamed down her cheeks and over her chin and neck.
“Anytime,” he said, not caring in the least if the two of them just stood there forever, practically drowning, having sex with their eyes.
“Can I give you a ride?” she asked.
“Nah. Me and Custard’ll make it home just fine.”
“You made a bad day so much better. Thank you.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth, so plump and inviting, shiny with the water pouring down over it.
“Oh, yeah—and I’d better get going...” She started to turn. He let Custard’s reins drop and caught her arm before she could escape him. Those blue eyes got bigger. “What?”
“Give me your number.”
A small sound of regret escaped her. “I am so tempted.”
“Give in, then.”
“Oh, Gabe...”
She really didn’t need to say more. He got the message and reluctantly accepted it. Scooping off his streaming hat, he dropped it on the roof of the car. Now the rain poured directly on him again. He didn’t care in the least. “If I can’t have your number and I’m never going to see you again...”
Her gaze searched his face. “What?”
“I’ve been dying to do this.” And he dipped his head to touch his wet lips to hers.
She sighed against his mouth, her breath warm, scented of apples and wine.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He dared to gather her to him, pulling her up to her tiptoes so he could feel her soft, slim body pressed nice and close.
But somehow, not close enough. He pulled her in even tighter and tasted her deeply.
It was magic, that kiss, everything he could have hoped for. A little crazy, kind of wild, beneath a streaming sky. He wanted it to last forever.
But it couldn’t. When she pulled away a second time, he made himself let her go.
“Bye,” she said, and turned away again. That time, he didn’t try to stop her. A moment later, she had the driver’s door open and was sliding in behind the wheel.
He grabbed his hat off the car’s roof as she turned the engine over. And then he stood there, hat in hand, and watched her turn around and drive away. The Audi disappeared from sight and still he stood there, with the rain coming down in buckets, his eyes trained on the spot where she’d disappeared from his view, his arms feeling much too empty, his lips still tingling from the taste of that kiss—until Custard grew impatient. With a snort, the gelding butted him gently between the shoulder blades.
Gabe mounted up and turned Custard for home.
* * *
Mel drove toward Bronco in kind of a daze. Gabe the lonesome cowboy had kissed her!
And she’d let him. And it had been perfect. The kind of kiss that had a girl thinking maybe she didn’t hate all men on principle, after all.
Very quickly, the rain slowed to a drizzle and then stopped altogether. The sun appeared and the clouds just melted away.
If she hadn’t been soaking wet and sitting in a puddle behind the wheel, she might almost wonder if her picnic with Gabe and their kiss in the pouring rain had really happened.
It seemed like a dream to her. Magical. Unreal.
She felt almost breathless—because she was. She wished she’d just gone ahead and given him her number. Or at least that she’d gotten his last name.
But she hadn’t. And really, wasn’t that for the best? She was swearing off men indefinitely, focusing on her life and her own future. Even the hottest cowboy in Montana couldn’t be allowed to distract her from her plans.
Still, her lips seemed to tingle all the way to the sprawling, upscale apartment complex in Bronco Heights where she would be living for the next six months or so.
It was called BH247, the complex. BH was for Bronco Heights, of course. And the 247? The street number on Serpentine Drive.
The complex pretty much had it all—indoor and outdoor pools, hot tubs, a big clubhouse and a fitness center. Her cute little studio even had a gorgeous view of the mountains.
She parked the Audi in her reserved space in the underground garage, gathered her soggy picnic stuff from where she’d tossed it in the back and took the elevator up to her floor.
On her own little service porch, she shoved the wet blanket into the high-efficiency apartment-sized front-loading washer. Next, she took off her mud-caked boots and then peeled off the rest of her clothes, adding the clothes to the load. Tossing in a detergent pod, she started the wash cycle.
Her boots she hauled back to the main room, where she dropped them in the sink. From there, she went straight to the bathroom for a long, lovely shower. After piling her acres of wet hair up into a haphazard knot, she pulled on shorts and a tank top and returned to the main room.
Twenty minutes later, she’d cleaned off her boots and unpacked what was left of the picnic. The boots and the drenched picnic basket she carried out to her small balcony to dry.
“Hey, neighbor,” said a friendly female voice. It was coming from the balcony that adjoined hers.
Mel gave the picnic basket a nudge to tuck it under the eaves, where it would be safe from any future surprise downpours, and straightened. “Hi.”
The gorgeous, pulled-together woman on the next-door balcony grinned at her. “I’m Brittany Brandt.” She offered a smile.
They exchanged basic information. Mel explained that starting Monday, she would be managing the new DJ’s Deluxe.
Brittany was unemployed. “Well, as of a couple of days ago,” she said. “I’m an event planner. I was working for Evan Cruise—you know him?”
The name sounded vaguely familia
r. “I think I saw his picture on a billboard on my way into town the other day. Dark-haired and intense-looking?”
“That’s Evan.”
“He does ghost tours, or something?”
“Yes, he does,” said Brittany. “There are lots of supposedly haunted places in Bronco Valley—abandoned mines, rusted oil rigs, tumbledown ranch houses with ghosts running around in them, that sort of thing. Evan does a big business with his tours. Unfortunately, he’s a hard man to work for and he doesn’t pay enough.”
“So you quit?”
“Yes, I did. I’ve already got something new lined up, so I’m not complaining. Right now, I’m taking a short but much-needed break. And I was just about to drag my roomie away from her laptop and head out to the pool, get a little sun. Come with?”
Mel cast a wary glance up at the sky. “You think it’ll rain again?”
Brittany laughed. “What’s the worst that can happen? We’ll already be wet.”
“Good point.” And it would be nice to get to know her new neighbors a little. “The outdoor pool, you said?”
“Yeah. Put on your suit. We’ll meet you there.”
* * *
By the time Mel joined her neighbors at the giant outdoor pool, the sky had cleared completely and the late-afternoon temperature was a balmy 80 degrees. Brittany and her roommate, Amanda Jenkins, had saved her one of the comfy cushioned poolside loungers.
Amanda was self-employed, a marketing manager who did most of her work on her laptop at home. She focused on social media campaigns and outreach for her clients. She and Brittany were both brunettes with brown eyes, but the similarity ended there. Tall, willowy Brittany had light-brown skin, an air of glamor and sophistication about her and an outgoing personality, while Amanda was petite, softly pretty and kind of quiet.
Mel liked them both. A lot. She found them fun and easy to talk to. For the second time that day, she said more than she probably should have about her cheating ex-fiancé and the great job she’d had to leave behind.
She even told them about her chance encounter with Gabe—because why not? They were good listeners and the good-looking cowboy was definitely on her mind.
“So there I am,” she said, “with my pity-party picnic, out in the middle of who-knows-where, crying my eyes out over my lowlife, cheating ex and the great life I had to walk away from, when who should appear but a handsome cowboy, a rifle in one hand, leading a gorgeous palomino with the other.”
Amanda seemed mildly alarmed. “Why the rifle? You don’t look all that threatening to me.”
“He was just being cautious, I think. He put the rifle away and asked if he could join me. I said yes.”
“So this mysterious cowboy of yours wasn’t the least shy, then.” Brittany’s low voice held more than a hint of irony.
“Not shy, but really sweet and understanding. And did I mention hot?” Mel pretended to fan herself. “And an amazing kisser, too.”
Brittany gathered her glorious mane of natural curls in one hand and wrapped an elastic band around it, anchoring the thick mass into a high ponytail. “Has Gabe the Cowboy got a last name?”
“He didn’t mention it.” Both women looked puzzled. “Hey, it was just one of those things, you know? A great moment with a guy I’ll never see again.”
“But maybe we know him,” argued Brittany. “Bronco’s not as small as your hometown, but it’s small-ish. And Amanda’s got mad web skills. You give her Gabe-the-Cowboy’s full name, she can find out way more than you ever wanted to know about him.”
“But I don’t need to know anything about him. That’s the point. I’m not going to go looking for him. I’ve had enough of men to last me into the next decade, at least. But I had a great time with him and meeting him made me feel better about guys and life and everything, you know?”
“What did he look like?” asked Amanda.
“Does it matter, really?”
Brittany eased her designer sunglasses down her nose a fraction and gave Mel a long look over the top of them. “Humor us.”
Mel threw up both hands. “Fine. Tall, lean, wide shoulders. Late twenties to early thirties. Light blue eyes, slightly spiky dark blond hair...”
“Well, that really narrows it down,” Amanda said drily. “The good news is, the name Gabriel didn’t become popular until the last twenty years or so.”
Brittany was still looking at Mel over the top of her sunglasses. “Meaning there aren’t a lot of Gabes who are the age you think yours is,” she clarified.
“Gabe the Cowboy is in no way mine,” Mel felt driven to insist. “And come on, Amanda, how can you even know that about his name?”
“Too much time online,” said Brittany.
Amanda tapped the side of her head with a finger. “You’d be surprised the number of off-the-wall facts I’ve got stored in here.”
“Ladies.” Brittany clapped her hands sharply. “Can we please stay on task? Mel, we need more details. Close your eyes. Picture the guy...”
Why not? Mel played along. “Um, well, his silver belt buckle had a big A on it.”
Brittany suggested, “Last-name initial, maybe?”
“Hold that thought.” Amanda jumped up and headed for the building behind them.
When Mel shot a baffled glance at Brittany, she said, “Laptop.”
“Ah.”
A few minutes later, Amanda was back. She sat cross-legged on her lounger, her fingers flying over the laptop keys. “Hm,” she said. “Yeah.” She turned the laptop so that Mel and Brittany could see. “This shot appeared in the Bronco Bulletin last December—”
“That’s him!” Mel cried. The picture had been taken at some sort of white-tie event. Gabe wore a tux, of all things—and clearly not a rented one. He stood beneath a wrought-iron chandelier looped with Christmas garland and twinkly lights. A gorgeous redhead in evening dress clung to his arm.
“This was taken in the ballroom at the Association,” said Amanda. “I know the venue because I did some outreach for them a few months ago and they gave me a tour of the buildings and grounds.”
“It’s a country club,” said Brittany. “Or maybe you could call it a cattlemen’s club. Seriously exclusive. Costs a fortune to join, but just having lots of money won’t do it. To get in, you have to be sponsored by someone who’s already a member.”
Amanda was nodding. “Your poor cowboy, Gabe? He’s from one of the richest families in town. The man has it all going on. Looks. Charm. Brains. Big money. And he’s a heartbreaker, too. Lots of girls have tried to tame him, but he’s never settled down.”
“Of course, he hasn’t,” Mel muttered bitterly. At the same time, she couldn’t help recalling how sweet and tender he’d been with her and—hold on just a minute.
What was the matter with her?
He was rich. Rich men were dangerous.
Plus, hadn’t Amanda just said he was a player?
A player who’d lied to her, letting her think he was only a poor cowpuncher when in fact he had money to burn. The last thing she needed was another lying rich guy in her life.
Not that Gabe was in any way in her life. It was a chance meeting and they’d both agreed they would probably never see each other again.
Amanda went on, “The Abernathy spread is the second largest in the Bronco area.”
Abernathy?
Mel popped bolt upright on the lounger. “Wait. Abernathy, you said? Gabe’s last name is Abernathy?”
“That’s right.” Amanda closed her laptop. “And Gabe’s not only a rich rancher’s son. He’s branched out into property development. Made quite the success of it, too.”
Brittany reached between their loungers and patted Mel’s arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. It’s just...” She thought of sweet, old Winona, who might or might not be the tragic young girl in Josiah Ab
ernathy’s diary. Could there actually be a connection between Gabe’s family and the Rust Creek Falls Abernathys?
No.
Really. There were people named Abernathy all over the country and it was just a bizarre coincidence that Gabe was one.
Her new friends watched her with worried expressions. “What’s the matter?” Amanda asked softly. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry.” Mel played it off. “It’s just, you know...men. Lying liars who lie.”
“Oh, honey.” Brittany shook her head with a sigh. “We hear you.”
“And really,” said Amanda, “maybe we shouldn’t judge the guy.”
“Please,” Brittany scoffed at her friend. “You’re too forgiving. You always have been.”
But Amanda was insistent. “No, really. Look at it this way, Mel. Maybe Gabe liked that you thought he was just some ordinary cowboy—and yet you were interested in him, anyway.”
By now, Mel just wanted to leave the subject of Gabe Abernathy behind. “I think I’ll just stick with my first take on what happened with Gabe. He was kind to me when I was feeling low and I’m grateful for that.”
At least she’d had sense enough not to give the guy her number. She’d been much too attracted to him and it would be way too easy to let him get under her skin.
* * *
Mel spent the next day purposely not thinking of Gabe Abernathy or any other guy. She puttered around her apartment and went out to dinner with Brittany and Amanda. Saturday was Independence Day. Mel attended the town parade and watched the fireworks from her balcony that night.
Sunday night, she climbed into bed early. She wanted to be fresh for her first day at DJ’s Deluxe. It would be a long shift tomorrow. She would go in around noon and meet the current manager, who would introduce her to the rest of the staff and bring her up to speed. Dinner service was the main event, so of course she would be there for that.
In Search of the Long-Lost Maverick Page 3
