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Gunner plunged his hands into the sudsy water—the very hot sudsy water—and bit back a curse. Hell, he’d left home at fifteen and wanted nothing to do with Texas. The dirty stinking town where he grew up was only half the size of Blackfoot Falls. So if your mom was the town tramp, everybody knew it.
A customer called for Elaine and she picked up her tray. “You’d better be nice to me,” she said, grinning. “I’m the only person standing between you and your fan club over there.”
He didn’t have to look to know which table she meant. The three women were from San Diego and staying at the Sundance Ranch. They’d been driving him nuts. He didn’t go for the hair-twirling, lip-licking crap.
That was one great thing about Mallory. She didn’t play games or work at being sexy. Of course with those big green eyes, generous mouth and killer body she didn’t have to do anything.
So why the new clothes? She had no business looking hot as hell. Was this her turning over a new leaf? Making a fresh start? Had she been trying to get away from him? All she’d had to do was tell him to get lost.
One of the Sundance women had a thing for Blake Shelton, and had “Honey Bee” on repeat. Once he got the glasses washed he was gonna unplug that damn jukebox.
“It seems we’ve died down a bit.” Mallory’s voice startled him. “There’s no reason for you to stick around. Go be with Ben and Grace.”
He drained his beer and looked at her. She was close. A couple feet away, her eyes full of uncertainty. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Her gaze flickered and lowered. “So do you.”
“We have to talk.”
“Please, Gunner. Not here. Please.”
“You don’t return my calls.”
“I know. But I was busy getting moved out of the Renegade and then—” She shook her head, looked away. “You’re right. I have no excuse. I should’ve talked to you.”
“Damn right you should have.” He was getting worked up again, seeing her hang her head like a whipped dog. Looking as if he’d treated her badly. She was in the wrong, not him.
“Pardon me, but could I get another rum and Coke?”
Gunner recognized the husky voice before he glanced at the flirty redhead. “Just a minute,” he said and turned back to Mallory.
She stared back at him for a second and then rolled her eyes. “Is that with a lime?” she asked the woman and grabbed the rum.
“Yes, lime, a wedge on the rim and another squeezed in the drink. And no offense, but I really like the way he makes it.”
Mallory darted him a look, the expression on her face not one he’d seen before. When she finally smiled, it didn’t fool him. She seemed sad, and he didn’t understand why.
To get rid of the redhead, he stepped in and made her drink. Mallory turned and before she could walk away, he said, “Hey, don’t run off.”
She just glanced at him as she bent to check the dishwasher. He slid the rum and Coke toward the woman and went to Mallory. He almost reached for her hand, but thought better of it. Part of him wanted to comfort her, the other part was having trouble controlling his temper.
“Why?” he asked, careful to keep his voice low. “Just tell me why.”
“Gunner...” Her head down, she opened the dishwasher. Steam poured out. He caught her arm to pull her away just as she jerked back.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I thought the heat cycle was finished.”
“Let me see,” he said, brushing the hair away from her face.
“I’m fine.” The warning tone in her voice was enough. She didn’t have to flinch from his touch.
Anger flared inside him, and then simmered to concern when he noticed the red blotch. “You have a small burn,” he said, nodding at her chin.
Her hand shot to her cheek.
“Closer to your—” Screw it. He directed her unsteady fingers to the spot. “Where’s the first-aid kit?” The one she’d kept at the Renegade had been put to good use.
“I don’t know. I’m still unpacking stuff.”
“I saw a store on the way here. I’ll go—”
Mallory shook her head. “Everything is closed by now.” She probed around the reddened skin. “It doesn’t feel bad. I’ll be okay.” Turning toward Ben and Grace, she gave them a self-conscious smile. Then she looked at Gunner again and the soft expression in her eyes told him right then and there he’d done the right thing by coming to Montana. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”
“Tell them?” His confusion took a second to clear. “Christ, give me some credit.” Shaking his head, he picked up the pile of tip money people had left him and stuffed it in Elaine’s jar on the back shelf.
“Where are you going?” Mallory almost sounded like she cared.
He knew better. “To find a friendlier bar,” he said, and almost plowed into Elaine as he headed for the door.
* * *
GUNNER HAD JUST finished his first shot of tequila when Ben entered the Watering Hole. Figured he hadn’t been far behind. The place was dead except for a pair of pool players in the back and a table of old-timers laughing at each other’s lame jokes. He wished they’d keep it down.
“Hey, Nikki,” Ben said as he took the barstool next to Gunner.
The pretty, dark-haired bartender stopped restocking the fridge and turned. “Hey yourself,” she said. “What can I get you?”
Gunner pushed his empty shot glass toward her.
“Beer for me,” Ben said, and inclined his head at Gunner. “He’s buying.”
“Sure.” Gunner snorted. “Why not? In fact, pour something for yourself, darlin’, and put it on my tab.”
Nikki glanced at him, smiled at Ben, then got his beer and Gunner’s shot.
“You might as well leave the bottle,” Gunner said when she turned to put the tequila back on the shelf.
“Nope. I don’t do that.” She leaned a hip against the back bar. “How’s Mallory holding up?”
Gunner grunted and tossed back the liquor. He felt Ben staring at him. Of course he was going to have questions. And Gunner had no idea what to tell him.
“She’s doing all right, considering she should’ve had two more waitresses working,” Ben said. “Gunner was helping make drinks until a few minutes ago.”
The bartender gave him a curious look. “I’m Nikki McAllister,” she said, leaning forward and shaking hands with him.
“Gunner.” He saw a gold wedding band on her finger.
Not that he was interested. A few months ago...yeah, he might’ve been looking to hook up. But things had shifted for him around Christmas...about the time something had changed between him and Mallory.
He couldn’t say what exactly, or why he’d suddenly noticed how her smile lit up a room. Even her laugh sounded different now. And there was something about the way she looked at him. It gave him the weirdest feeling inside...
Shit.
It was for the best she’d moved away. He didn’t need this grief. He’d liked his life just the way it was before. Thirty-two was too young for a midlife crisis. He’d find a new bar, or just follow the rest of the gang. Guaranteed they’d already adopted some dive that served cheap drinks.
Was that what he really wanted? Nothing felt right. He wasn’t into the job anymore. It had gotten so that he hated traveling.
He’d been staring at his empty shot glass for a while. When he looked up, Nikki wasn’t behind the bar. And Ben had actually shifted on his stool to face him.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Ben asked. “You’ve been distracted and edgy since you got here.”
Gunner sighed. He’d met Ben while they were filming in Mexico years ago. They’d become casual friends. Or at least they’d built enough trust between them to watch each other’s backs. “Just tired. Argentina was a bitch even before we fell behind schedule.”
“Yeah, I always hated those long stretches. Ranching has been an adjustment. Hell, I’m up well before dawn every morning. But I don’t miss it.”
Gunner leaned back to ease the kink from two days of hard driving. “I wondered if you had any regrets.”
“Nope.” Ben shook his head. “They’ve been filming around Glacier National Park and south along the Rockies. I picked up some work after I first bought the ranch. I had to sink a bundle into repairs and stock, so it made sense to bring in a little cash and keep my union benefits. But I’ve decided I’m done with stunt work,” he said, shrugging. “You know, I’ve got Grace now. I don’t like being away from her.”
Gunner never thought he’d hear those words come out of Ben Wolf’s mouth. Not that long ago Ben had had quite a reputation for going through women like he went through booze, fancy cars and speeding tickets.
“You still have a driver’s license?” Gunner asked.
“Yeah,” Ben said with a grin. “You?”
“Yep. How’s your record here? Any tickets yet?”
“How do you think I met Grace?”
Right. She was the sheriff. “She wrote you up? You couldn’t sweet-talk her out of it?”
Ben didn’t answer. Just smiled and lifted his mug.
Letting out a laugh, Gunner clapped him on the back. “Dude, you got it bad.”
Ben eyed him with raised brows.
Gunner was pretty sure he knew what was coming next. Couldn’t say he hadn’t asked for it. Though he didn’t think he’d been too obvious with Mallory.
Glancing around, he searched for Nikki, who was probably in the back. The tequila shots hadn’t done a damn thing for him. Which was just as well. Unless he wanted to end up sleeping it off in his truck, he needed to pay up and get out of here.
Ben nodded at the empty shot glass. “Might want to ease up since we drove separately.”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Suit yourself. But if you get stopped by a deputy, don’t expect Grace to cut you a break.” Ben pushed his unfinished beer away and stood. “Tomorrow I’ll show you around the Silver Spur. The place still needs work and I might’ve gotten ahead of myself drumming up business.” He turned to go but then paused. “We leave the kitchen door unlocked. You remember how to get back?”
Gunner nodded.
“Drive carefully,” he said as he headed for the door. “Lots of deer are on the roads after dark.”
Drive carefully.
Yep, Ben had changed.
Gunner tried to remember how long it had been since Ben had left Hollywood. Over a year for sure, but not all that long considering how well he’d settled into his quiet new life.
Like Ben had said, part of it was Grace. Gunner had hauled ass from California to make it in time for Mallory’s opening night. So he’d only met Grace an hour before the three of them had come to town. But he’d liked her right off. She seemed to be straightforward, had a good sense of humor and a street-smart air about her. And she was pretty.
Come to think of it, she reminded him of Mallory.
So if Ben and Grace could make a go of it...
There was a big difference. Ben and Grace didn’t share any history. The only things she knew about Ben was what he’d told her. Mallory knew everything about Gunner, warts and all as the saying went. And he had some pretty damn ugly warts in his past.
4 (#u7f848c24-9b8e-5eed-b265-26033fff2cca)
MALLORY KICKED AN empty box to the side and studied the stack she hadn’t opened yet. Most of them were marked by room, but where the rest belonged was anyone’s guess. At least she had plenty of space in the two-bedroom rental. Yes, she supposed it was small by most standards, but to her it was a palace. She’d never lived in a house before.
Not only that but the rent was crazy cheap. Way lower than she’d been prepared to pay. And talk about convenient...she was just off Main, an eight-minute walk from the bar. Six, if she was in a hurry.
Gunner wasn’t going to believe—
She stopped the thought cold.
Things were different now. She wouldn’t be telling Gunner about every stupid little thing that happened in her day. In her life. When had they started doing that anyway? Hanging out at the Renegade on slow nights, huddled at the end of the bar, just the two of them, talking about nothing? Sometimes, shooting pool in the back and making crazy bets. Or calling each other at odd times just to let off steam?
She’d never had a real friend before Gunner. Not even in high school because the girls her age had only wanted to talk about boys and clothes. Although it was just in the past two years that she and Gunner had started to test the waters, throwing out tidbits of personal stuff. Nothing big, but she was going to miss all of that.
She was going to miss him.
Dammit.
Why had he shown up here? Seeing him last night was like ripping off a scab before the wound had healed. Of course she was to blame. She should’ve answered his calls. Pretended the best she could that nothing had changed. Then done the only thing that had a chance of solving her problem...moving as far away from him as possible. With the expired lease and ridiculous rent hike she’d had the perfect excuse to relocate.
Instead she’d shut him out and ran. Out of fear. Out of embarrassment. But most of all, she’d fled for self-preservation. None of it mattered now. She would have to face him and explain why she’d behaved like the silly school girls she hadn’t wanted as friends.
Well, no, not exactly. Mallory knew an explanation was unavoidable, but she was perfectly willing to play fast and loose with the truth. She’d have to be an utter moron to admit that she’d gone and done the stupidest thing ever.
She’d developed feelings for Gunner.
Her friend.
The guy who would hotfoot it all the way to the moon rather than be tied down to any one woman. Let alone her. Someone he expected to know better than to mistake sex for anything but sex.
And if that wasn’t enough to make her want to disappear from the face of the earth, jealousy had her by the throat. Her. She was supposed to be immune to that sort of pettiness.
