Chapter Eight
I n the middle of the night, in the middle of a dream about Gus riding beside her across the ranch on horseback, holding her hand as if they’d done it a thousand times before, Cami heard a sound she couldn’t recognize. A wolf’s howl, she realized at last, and she looked to find that giant gray and silver canine perched high on a rocky outcrop, staring down at them.
“He won’t hurt us.” Gus tightened his warm fingers around her cold ones. “I know him.”
“But… how can you be sure?” She didn’t scare easily. But that wolf scared her. “He’s… wild .”
“He’s just telling us he sees us.” Gus’s calm in the face of this creature confused her as the wolf howled again and from somewhere in the distance, others joined in.
“So, you speak wolf?” she asked as if that was totally possible.
“I understand him,” he said, and leaned his head back to howl back at the one on the rocks.
Which was when she woke up. To the sound of Lolly crying. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Rousing herself reluctantly from the pleasure of that dream, she shook it off and stumbled over to the baby where she slept in the new bassinet Cami had bought her. How long had she been crying while she was dreaming about wolves and paranoia?
She seriously needed some sleep.
Lolly’s little howl was hungry. She was a good baby, as newborn babies went, Cami decided. Not that she knew what a newborn should be like. But she cried when she was hungry or wet, and otherwise she seemed… content to sleep or observe the crowd at the Hardesty ranch.
She lifted Lolly from the basinet and cuddled her for a few minutes to soothe her. Almost instantly, she stopped crying, focused on Cami. She spoke to the baby softly as she changed her wet diaper and put on a fresh sleep sack gown. Lolly smiled up at her as she worked to get her fist into her little mouth.
“I know you’re hungry. Let’s warm up a bottle for you.”
Carrying her into the kitchen, she did just that, then settled down in a comfy chair to feed her. Lolly took the bottle eagerly and quieted, working to empty the contents.
Cami rubbed a thumb across the baby’s soft arm, feeling a strange surge of maternal rush pour through her. She spent most of the year being a teacher to dozens of third graders who, while adorable, had never inspired the kinds of hormonal chaos inside her that holding Lolly did. Did all newborn babies have this effect on women of childbearing age? Was it purely hormonal? Was this suddenly the ticking clock she’d heard about for so long from her teacher friends? The one so many had succumbed to?
Succumbed was a strong word. The wrong word, actually. But she’d always somehow thought she was immune to that ticking clock. Maybe it was because she’s spent most of her life trying to fix things in her own family, between her late, difficult father and everyone else; between Liam and Will and being there for Shay as she raised Ryan alone. Not to mention her mother, whose broken heart was only just beginning to heal.
So, the children she taught had seemed enough. Until now.
She ran a finger along Lolly’s velvety-soft cheek and felt the baby lean into her touch. As the little buzz of bubbles in the bottle told Cami that she was doing everything right, she was still very aware that everything about this was wrong. It wasn’t this baby’s fault that everything had gotten messed up in her little life. Or that she’d had no choice in the matter about being held in Cami’s arms right now. But since this was where they were at, she was going to be the best surrogate mom she could be—until she’d exhausted all options to keep her.
Or until Cami found Lolly’s real mother.
Lolly finished her bottle, looking milk drunk, and Cami lifted her onto her shoulder for a burp. Her compact little body fit perfectly in the curve of Cami’s shoulder and her smell… that baby smell was slightly intoxicating to her, as well. She supposed that was how it worked in nature. A perfect design for mother and child.
Cami stared into the darkened room. Even if she did manage to find Lolly’s mom—and the odds were against it—she didn’t really have a plan to fix this. Finding her might only lead to Tara—if it was Tara—being arrested. Deep down, Cami couldn’t imagine what would have to happen in her own life for her to do what Tara had done. Then again, who knew what she’d been through? What she had left? Who was there to help her?
Cami’s guess to all of those questions was that she was alone in the world without help or support. She wished she knew. Tomorrow, she would track down and call the Simons, and find out what they knew.
Meanwhile…
She had two days left of school before the holiday break. Her mom and Shay, who luckily only did part-time freelance accounting off the ranch, had volunteered to watch Lolly until she got home from school in the afternoon. Thank God for them.
She rested her head back against the chair and began thinking about Gus and how his arm had felt around her on the hayride. She was pretty sure it was simply a kind gesture on his part, to keep her warm, but remembering it now sent a whole different sort of warmth through her. The imagining kind of warmth. In her mind, she traced the outline of his face, lit by moonlight and the little cleft in his chin, the dimple in his cheek, smiling as she did.
Gah! Cami. For heaven’s sake! In a minute, you’ll be doodling little hearts on a notebook with his initials scribbled on it.
She gave the baby a squeeze. Okay, so it had been a long while since someone—a male someone—had that effect on her. It wasn’t like she’d intentionally quit dating after Patrick. She’d just never found anyone who made her feel… like the world just got bigger. Like… there was something on the other side of the little box she’d been living in. Like… if he’d kissed her, she would have wanted more.
Don’t get carried away. He’s on his way out of town soon. Permanently. Besides, he only asked you to dinner. And to help pick out a gift for Ella. No big deal. But even more embarrassingly, she’d been actively contemplating what to wear on a date three days from now. She glanced at the small clock above the mantel… 2:37a.m.
Make that two days from now.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and yawned. Whether she’d manage to stay awake on a date with Gus Claymore was another matter altogether.
At the front window, Poppy, the half-grown pup who’d been sleeping peacefully on his dog bed, suddenly startled and alerted at the window. A low growl rumbled in his throat, which was unusual for Poppy who didn’t usually have a single, guard dog instinct in him. But the hair on the back of Cami’s neck went up and she prayed he didn’t start barking and wake Lolly.
It could be coyotes, who often frequented their pastures, sometimes in packs, hunting for rabbits or gophers or, occasionally, a newborn foal. The two that had just been born were still in a stall in the barn with their mamas. But there weren’t any newborns in the field. And she didn’t hear the telltale yips of the pack.
Poppy was almost five months old now and not full grown, but he was already big enough to intimidate a full-grown man if need be. Not that he’d ever been so inclined. Nor was Pippa, who was fast asleep upstairs in Ryan’s room.
Cami stood and moved to the window. “What is it, Pops?” She ran her fingers through Poppy’s fur staring out into the moonlit darkness. “What do you see out there?”
The dog’s stare was fixed on the road to the bigger of their two barns and something she could not see at all. “It’s okay. It’s nothing. Let’s leave it. Probably just the wind.”
But it was several minutes before the dog would leave the window reluctantly and settle back down to sleep. Cami glanced out the window one last time, checked the door lock, and returned to her room with the baby and settled her in her bassinet. It was probably nothing. But something told her it wasn’t nothing. Maybe, she thought, with the irrationality that came in the middle of the night… maybe it was a sign.
*
Over the next two days, between teaching the final days before winter break and surviving nearly sleepless nights, Cami did her best to hold everything together. While Shay and her mother watched Lolly during school hours, her students were too excited and preoccupied with the upcoming holiday to do much learning, but there were tests to be taken and papers to be graded. In between, she was determined to wrangle a bit of fun from the last week of school with inside games and lots of art projects.
Two more rehearsals for Sunday’s Christmas pageant had been crammed into her already-busy schedule, but the rehearsals went surprisingly well, aside from the fact that a viral cold was raging its way through her cast and two of her shepherds were down for the count. Gus had appeared before the end of the last rehearsal to watch from the back of the church. It made her nervous, seeing him there. But when one of the dogs—who were standing in for the goats who would appear in the real performance—started chasing a cat that had wandered into the sanctuary, Gus was the one who’d caught it and calmed it down, averting disaster with the manger set. Gus to the rescue…
Somehow, on little to no sleep, she’d held it all together.
Later this week there would be the Christmas pageant, then Izzy and Will’s wedding this weekend, for which she could hardly wait. Then Christmas.
She was exhausted just thinking about the week to come.
And during lulls in her ridiculous schedule, she managed to track down the Simons, but a phone call to Mrs. Simon was not, in the end, much help. Yes, Tara had been their foster daughter for two years. No, she did not live with them now. At eighteen, she had, in fact, aged out of the foster care system, and they were not in a position to adopt her. She explained that while the goal of most foster situations was to somehow reunite birth parents with their children, Tara’s own parents had lost parental rights years ago.
No, Tara hadn’t been in touch for months, despite Mrs. Simon’s attempts to reach her. It turned out that Tara had fallen for a considerably older boy during her last year of high school and that the Simons—vocally—disapproved of him. But Tara had been stubborn about it.
“Looking back,” Mrs. Simon had said in a voice that seemed to hold a mountain of regret, “that boy must have felt like an anchor to Tara. An anchor to hold onto, grounding her for a future that was, at best, very unclear. He wasn’t good for her. We knew that much. At least we told her as much, but she didn’t believe us. We were maxed out with four other fosters and two of our own when my husband got a new job in Missoula, and we had to move. We told her she could go with us and that we would help her get an apartment, but she said no. She stayed here in Marietta with… him . With Joey.”
“And this was a year ago?”
“Not quite. We moved early last summer.”
“So,” Cami asked, “the older boy? Did she move in with him?”
“We think so. She wouldn’t share that with us. I think she knew he would be in trouble if the authorities found out he was having sex with a seventeen-year-old. We did our best to help her, but in the end, she wanted to go her own way. She turned eighteen. There was nothing we could do.”
Not all foster care situations end in adoption, even if the birth parents were out of the picture. But many did. Cami wondered how many foster families Tara had been through in her short life and how alone she must have felt. Cami didn’t mention the baby to Mrs. Simon because apparently Tara hadn’t. Maybe she hadn’t wanted her to know, and it wasn’t Cami’s place to tell her now. But as she listened to Tara’s foster mom talk about her in the past tense, it seemed clear she wasn’t ever going to be a part of that family. Not in a real way. Whatever their relationship, it was always meant to be temporary.
“I’m not sure why you’re looking for her now,” Mrs. Simon said, “but if she’s in some kind of trouble, I hope you can help her. She’s a good girl. I wish we could have helped her more.”
As Cami drove home that afternoon, shaken by her conversation with Mrs. Simon, she couldn’t stop thinking about Tara and her situation and wonder what had become of her. Who was the older boy she’d been seeing? Was he Lolly’s father? Where was he and why wasn’t he in the picture?
And when she recalled the problems she’d once thought were overwhelming in her own childhood, they seemed now relatively small. Every family had issues, but to have no family at all… it seemed to put whatever small struggles she’d had in her life into perspective.
And now, Lolly found herself in the very same boat. But Cami was determined not to allow what had happened to Tara happen to her daughter. Cami would fight for Lolly if she had to. There had to be a reason she’d been dropped into her life. Maybe even a reason bigger even than Tara’s belief in her. Maybe it was fate, or kismet or the universe intervening. Maybe it was none of those things… or all of them.
*
Gus picked her up for their date Wednesday afternoon, since wherever he was taking her would be closing at dinnertime. She’d spent more than a few spare moments in the last few days wondering what she should wear, mentally considering and discarding wardrobe from teaching and deciding on a sweater dress in navy blue she’d had for a while and some neutral ankle boots that she loved. She took extra care with her makeup, then felt ridiculous for trying too hard. It was a simple thank-you dinner. Unnecessary at that. But she was glad to have the chance to get to know him better.
When he met her at her door, he had cleaned up from a long day of vet work and had a soft, brown leather jacket with its collar turned up and jeans on that made her imagine him on the pages of some magazine instead of mucking around in barns all day.
“You… look amazing,” he said, as she opened the door to him, his gaze taking her in.
She gave a breathy laugh and wildly blushed. “Admit it. You’re just overwhelmed at the sight of me in an actual dress.”
He chuckled. “Overwhelmed?” He looked her up and down with an appreciative smile. “Yeah. You could’ve worn ripped jeans and it wouldn’t have made it less so. In fact, I think I might need to go home and up my game.”
She snatched her purse off the side table and threw on a coat. “You absolutely do not. Because I was thinking the same about you in your”—she drew a little circle in the air in the direction of his chest—“hot leather jacket and vet-zone-free denims.”
He laughed. “This is it. My only manure-stain-free pair of jeans and boots. I don’t get out much.”
“I feel a little the same about teaching third graders,” she said, closing the door behind her. “With all the chalk and fingerpaint and permanent marker stains.”
“Look at us. Bonding over the detritus of our work. But really. You do look real pretty.”
“Thank you, sir.” She swallowed hard. “Now. Are you going to tell me about this mystery gift you’re wanting me to help you pick out?”
He sent her a look that sent her stomach flutters into disarray. “I think I should just show you.”
Ten minutes later, they were at the newest local animal rescue called Edna’s Dog Rescue that was run by a woman named Edna Braedenwise and her team of volunteers. Edna was in her sixties, with graying hair and a smile as big as the Montana sky. She’d been doing rescue upstate for years, but now had opened one in Marietta and had a kennel full of dogs like Pippa and Poppy who’d been abandoned on local roads or just given up on. Gus told Cami he volunteered to treat many of the dogs that had come into her facility, and he knew they’d gotten the best care from her.
“Aww! You’re getting a dog? For Ella?” Cami said, staring through the door’s window at the array of dogs penned up in their kennels in the clean, warm facility.
“She’s asked for one every year. I think maybe that’s what she whispered in Santa’s ear last week. But I need a second opinion.”
“Do you have one in mind?”
“He has one on hold,” Edna said, opening the door to the kennels for them. “She’s waiting for you.”
They walked toward that last kennel, passing an array of lovely dogs, both big and small, until they stopped at the pen of a mini-doodle-type mixed breed puppy. She wasn’t more than four months old, blonde and curly haired, and she was pressing herself up against the bars of her kennel to reach them. “I was actually called in to consult on another dog’s case when she came into the rescue. But I kind of fell for her the minute I saw her.”
Cami melted in front of her kennel. “Ohh. She’s adorable. What’s her name?”
“No name. No tags. No chip.”
“Well, that’s just awful. Can we take her out?” Cami curled her fingers around the dog’s paw through the slender bars.
“Let’s.”
They took her to the inside run that was carpeted with artificial turf, used during the cold, Marietta winters so people could interact with the dogs in a comfortable environment. The dog’s personality began to shine as she got more comfortable with them. She was a wiggly lovebug and was more interested in cuddling than running. Her eyes—when she stared up at Gus with the sort of lovestruck awe as only a dog could—were a golden color that matched her coat.
“She’s the color of butterscotch,” Cami mused, running her fingers through the dog’s hair. “Or taffy.”
“That’s a good name Taffy . Are you Taffy, girl? Yes?” Gus said. “Good dog.” The dog wagged her tail with enthusiasm, making Gus laugh. “But maybe I’d better let Ella choose a name for you.”
“So sweet,” Cami said. “I think you should definitely adopt her. Eloise will adore her. What about you?”
He dug his fingers into the dog’s fur, and she licked his face. “I became a vet because I love animals. All of them. But dogs? I was raised with them. Not having a dog in my life is like not having one of my hands. But the last few years have been… a lot of moving. And I didn’t think I was ready to be responsible for another… soul.”
She loved that he called the dog that. “What changed your mind?”
He scrubbed the dog on top of her head. “Ella. Seeing her with your dogs made me realize how much she was missing out on. And how much she’d love a dog of her own.”
“Dogs are pretty adaptable. Especially this size dog.”
“True. It really was never about the dog. It was me. So, you vote yes?” he said.
She scratched the puppy behind her ears. “I don’t think you really needed my vote. I think you’ve already made up your mind. But yes.”
“I guess I just needed confirmation I wasn’t crazy.”
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily go that far.”
He smiled up at her. “That’s fair. Let’s do this, then.”
Even though she knew he hadn’t really needed her opinion and his decision was already made, it felt nice being included. His reasons for doing so were less clear. But she decided not to think too hard about it—which went totally against her OTB—her over-thinking brain, as her brother, Liam, liked to refer to it.
Gus completed the paperwork for the dog, for Taffy, and paid the fee. “She’s going to need to be fixed and get all her vaccines so it will still be a couple of days,” he told her. “But the sooner I get her out of here, the better.”
“You’re giving her to Ella before Christmas then?”
“Maybe I can stash her with Dr. Alden, or make her an early Christmas present.” At her side-eye, he added, “Not from Santa.”
She sighed dramatically and shook her head. She was not going to go there tonight.
He laughed and they said goodbye to Taffy, but only until she was ready for pickup again. They headed back out to his truck.
“Is it weird,” she said as he opened the truck’s door for her, “that in the short time we’ve known each other, we’ve both had babies randomly drop into our lives? And that I’m not the only one facing sleepless nights for the foreseeable future?”
“You do have a point.” He walked around the truck and hopped into the driver’s seat.
“And,” she added, “that we happened to be together on both occasions?”
He turned to stare at her for a moment. “Well, I did wrangle you into this one.”
She shrugged. “True, with the bribe of an actual meal out.” Gawd, he was good-looking, with that secret smile of his that always said he had something unspoken on his mind.
Something that might make her uncomfortable if he said it aloud. She couldn’t get a read on him, exactly. Was it still too soon after his wife’s death to think about moving on? And even if he was trying, did he actually have room in his heart for a new person… like her? Which was why it was best to keep this all casual. Not a date. Remember that.
Shaking off the thought, she said, “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”
“Me either, without a six-year-old choosing the restaurant.”
“Where are we going?”
“That’ll be a surprise, too. But I did make reservations.”
That likely narrowed down the choices to someplace with white tablecloths. “I’m usually the one to plan surprises. I’m not generally on the receiving end of them.”
He frowned at that. “Then I’m glad you’ll make an exception for me.” There was a sexy note of hopefulness in his voice.
“I… believe I will.”
“Good.”
They drove for a few minutes outside of town to a restaurant on the river called Beck’s Place where a valet parked his truck, and the waiters wore long white aprons tied over their crisp black trousers and beneath starched white shirts. It was above and beyond anything she’d expected, certainly, in exchange for their little family Christmas gathering. But sitting beside him at the table in the corner near the big, blazing fireplace made her feel sparkly and special.
In the lobby, overlooking the diners, were large driftwood sculptures of running horses beneath a collection of crystal chandeliers. And soft music played in the background, adding to the ambiance. She recognized a few of the patrons in the dining room as local ranchers, shop owners, and even some local politicians. Marietta also attracted lots of tourists during the Christmas season with its quaint shopping, lovely celebrations like the tree lighting and the Stroll that helped support restaurants like this one and grow the business into what it was today. She’d only been here once before to celebrate her mom’s sixtieth birthday with the family.
“Do you like wine?” he asked, perusing the drink menu.
“Do ranchers ranch?”
He smiled. “Red or white?”
“You pick. I’m good with either.”
He ordered red—a good red—and they sipped it casually after ordering some delicious-sounding food.
“This is definitely more than I was expecting,” she said, leaning back in her chair.
“I like to exceed expectations.”
“Mission accomplished. I bet you were labeled an overachiever in school. Becoming a vet, amazing dad, all the things…”
He winced. “That’s kind of you. Although my brother, Luke, wouldn’t necessarily count that label as a plus.”
“Why’s that?”
“A little healthy brotherly competition? I think… because he’s still trying to find his way. He’s a talented musician, but he keeps that to himself. He’s been a hundred percent there for me and Ella since we lost Ella’s mom. It’s time for him to worry about his own life and not be harnessed to ours.”
“Hmm,” she said. “I didn’t get the impression from Luke that he was harnessed at all. It shows how much he loves you both.”
Gus swallowed hard. “He and I were separated when we were kids. Our parents died suddenly in an accident, and I was lucky enough to land with a family member who couldn’t take on someone as young as Luke. He ended up in foster care and I lost track of him for most of our childhood.”
Cami’s heart squeezed at the thought. Foster care had circled into all of their lives in unexpected ways.
“When I found him finally and my wife died,” Gus continued, “we became all each other had. And I think he doesn’t want to lose that. Neither do I, frankly. But being eight years older than him, I have a little more perspective than he does on how this goes. I want him to do his music, go to school, get a job, or whatever makes him happy and not worry about us.”
She took a sip of wine. “Maybe worrying about you and Ella does make him happy. Maybe there’s a way he can do both.”
“Yeah. My fault, too. Dragging him around with me—with us—for jobs.”
“So, you’ve been doing this a long time? This traveling vet thing?”
The waiter brought them salads and Cami played with it with her fork, waiting for his answer.
He nodded. “I was part of a practice back East and, after my wife passed, I couldn’t… stay there. So, I left. And here we are.”
“Here you are. And, sorry, but how long ago was this?”
“This… You mean her death?” He looked confused.
“No. I mean, how long have you been… running?”
He sent her a sharp look that softened after a moment. “I-I wouldn’t exactly call it running.”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry.” She blushed, hiding behind her glass of wine.
He blinked. “I mean, I guess I’ve been looking for…”
She tilted a look at him, waiting.
“I don’t really know,” he finished, looking up at her through his dark lashes. “Peace? Maybe I have been just… running.”
There were two types of people. Those who turned to close friendships in a storm and those who isolated themselves until it passed. He was type two, she suspected, and while she understood it, she hated that for him, and for Ella and Luke. But it was yet another thing she couldn’t fix.
“What was her name? Your wife?”
“Lissa,” he said, and his eyes got a faraway look.
She was somehow relieved to know her name. “Tell me about her.”
A line formed between his brows. “I don’t think I should—”
“I have a feeling I would have liked her.”
“Yeah. I think you would have.” He took a few sips of his wine. “She was a lot like you. Loved kids. Felt deeply. She was strong, like you, too.”
That caught her off guard. “You think I’m strong?”
“You are. Look at you. Everything you take on.”
“That’s just because I can’t say no.”
“No,” he said. “I think that’s because you always say yes. And that’s different than being unable to say no. You say yes because you love it.”
Maybe that was more right than wrong. “I do like the chaos. I like people and noise and all the mess. Growing up a Hardesty will do that to you. Does that make me weird?”
“In the best way.” He lifted his wineglass to hers and they clinked them together.
Leaning back in her chair, she studied him. “You’re… interesting, Gus Claymore.”
“I hope when you say interesting what you mean is fascinating . Intriguing. Charming. Not boring as hell.”
She laughed. “Anything but boring. You are all of those things and you’re a bit of a puzzle. And maybe I’ll figure you out eventually. I don’t know. What are the odds?”
He thought about that. “Fifty-fifty. Maybe sixty-forty?”
“Is that sixty on my side or yours?”
“Yours.” He grinned at her. “Because… well, you’re a woman. And women are better at… pretty much everything.”
“ Oooh. Good answer! Except maybe calf-pulling.”
“Brawn counts for something, I suppose,” he said.
She laughed. His brawn was very, very appealing, but there was so much more about him that she found attractive, not the least of which was his humbleness, despite being the best vet people in these parts had ever seen. And then, there were his eyes. And that little cleft in his chin…
The waiter interrupted her thoughts, delivering a plate of fresh artisan bread and dipping oil and they both dug in, avoiding going any deeper than they already had.
“Any luck on the search for Lolly’s mother?” he asked finally, breaking the awkward silence.
“Not really. Dead ends mostly.” She caught him up on the Simons and the older boy Tara had been involved with. “All I know is that his name was Joey and that he was twenty-five while she was seeing him.”
“Sounds like a jailbait situation to me.”
She sighed. “Definitely and who knows how involved he was or still is in the whole thing. I don’t know. Maybe this whole search is for nothing. She could be long gone, out of the state by now. I may never find her.”
“She’d have to have transportation. A car? But she must have been in dire straits to have left Lolly as she did. How would a young girl, fresh out of foster care, with little to no money get herself out of Marietta?”
“I doubt she had a car. Bus? There is a bus station here.”
He nodded. “I can check that for you. You’ve got your hands full with everything going on.”
“Really? That would be so helpful. I have a name and a description. Maybe someone saw her?”
“I’ll check there tomorrow.”
She was grateful for his help, but in a way, even more grateful that he considered himself part of this with her.
Their dinners came and the food was every bit as wonderful as the wine. He got a filet mignon, and she got the mahi-mahi with an amazing wine sauce, and they shared a few delicious sides. They talked and laughed about everything from the disastrous pageant dress rehearsal to their tradition of ice-skating on Miracle Lake. He’d just ordered a flourless chocolate cake for dessert when his cell phone rang.
He made a face as he pulled it from his pocket to look at the number. “I’m sorry. I told Carrie at the office not to bother me unless it was an emergency. So, I’d better get it.”
“Of course.”
He walked away from the table for a moment, and she sat alone, sipping her wine and listening to the piano player playing a song that had become famous on social media. It was a gorgeous love song whose lyrics lived in her head. She was still singing them to herself when Gus returned with a serious look.
“I’m really sorry. It is an emergency out at a nearby ranch. They’re going to lose a calf and maybe the cow unless I can get out there pretty quick.” As she stood to gather her purse, he pulled out his wallet as the waiter walked up. He handed him a generous amount of cash for what she imagined was more than the bill, and the waiter thanked him profusely. The waiter offered to box up the cake, but Gus declined. He told her, “We’ll have to skip the dessert, but I’ll drive you home first.”
“No, absolutely not,” she said. “That would be way out of your way over there. And if it’s as bad as all that, you don’t have time. I’ll just come with you.”
“You don’t need to—I can get you a cab.”
“I could get my own. But no. I want to. C’mon. Let’s go.”
“Might be a bad outcome,” he said as they hurried out of the restaurant.
“I was raised on a cattle ranch, remember?”
He slid his strong arm around her back as he ushered her out the door and that touch traveled through her like an electric charge. However this date ended, she was sure of one thing—it had been a long, long time since she’d felt this comfortable with a man. Any man. And she didn’t want this night to end.