Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (83 page)

Hadn’t he learned his lesson once about the damage those California women could wreak? And most people thought the state’s natural disaster was the earthquakes.

She passed his truck, so his view shifted from her front to her back as she entered the diner. A very nice back it was, too. He eyed the sway of her hips and pursed his lips. California girl or not, she was the finest sight he’d ever seen. Was he going to sit here like a schoolboy, lurking and gawking? Just because the woman had turned down his request for a date?

Nah. It’d take a few more refusals before he settled for gawking.

With a grin, Gideon pocketed his keys and exited the truck. A few long strides across the street and he paused at the diner window to take in the scene. While the scent of fried meat wafted out the open window, he couldn’t make out the conversation. His brows furrowed when it looked like Marcia was refusing to seat Miki. Through the plate glass, he watched Miki make a sweeping gesture toward all the empty booths. Marcia, arms crossed over her impressive chest, shook her head.

God, he’d forgotten how rude some of the townspeople could be to newcomers. Amazing thing to forget, considering the continued decline of Rossdale’s population. He watched Marcia give another negative shake of her head. Miki, her back to him, seemed to be arguing, but the older woman didn’t budge.

Just as he was about to sweep open the doors to rush to her rescue, Miki turned in her heels and stomped out. Gideon had to jump back to avoid being beaned in the face with the swinging glass door.

“Hi,” he said as he caught the door.

Her midnight eyes stormy, a faint flush tinting her cheeks, Miki glared. Then, as she seemed to actually focus on him, her frown faded. The color on her cheeks didn’t though. If anything, it deepened.

“Hi,” she muttered. He glanced at her hand, rhythmically squeezing a bright purple floral stress ball. His brows drew together. Had she been carrying that all along? “If you’re looking for lunch, apparently the grill is being cleaned.”

Gideon’s brows shot up. He doubted old Joe had cleaned that grill more than twice in the twenty years he’d been slinging burgers at Bea’s. He knew the town had a tendency to be cold to newcomers, but outright driving away business? His gaze shifted over Miki’s shoulder to meet Marcia’s obstinate look.

He tilted a brow, and with a shamed little shrug, she turned her back on them in obvious dismissal.

“I wasn’t interested in lunch,” Gideon answered Miki’s question. He figured she might burst that stress ball if he told her he’d come over because he was interested in her.

A quick fantasy flashed through his mind of Miki spread out on his dining room table. Now that was a lunch he’d give anything to taste. His mouth watered at the thought and he breathed in the tempting scent of her spicy perfume.

Heat, a rare visitor before Miki’d come to town, simmered in his gut. His body gave a full salute of appreciation to the image etched in his brain. Damned if he had ever felt anything this strong, this powerful, this spontaneous, for a woman before. And never one who made it clear she wasn’t available.

“I wasn’t that hungry myself,” she grumbled, glaring over her shoulder. “I really just wanted to get some coffee and relax. Maybe get a feel for the town.”

Her tone made it clear she’d gotten quite a feel for Rossdale already, and it wasn’t a good one. Not sure why, since he knew she wouldn’t stick around one way or the other, but Gideon didn’t want her to hate his town. It could have been the hardening package in his jeans, but he liked to think he was a bigger man than that. Then again, as he looked down at Miki’s exotic face, he had to admit, he
was
getting bigger by the second.

“Do you like coffee?” he ventured.

Like fireworks in a pitch-black sky, her eyes sparkled.

“Only as much as I like air.”

He laughed and, cupping his hand under her elbow, turned her toward the General Store.

“I’ll treat you to a cup of the best coffee you’ve ever had,” he promised.

“Hmmm,” Miki said, trepidation clear on her pretty face. “I’m used to some pretty good coffee. And, having formerly worked in the food industry, I’d have to say I’m a rather picky connoisseur.”

“Trust me,” he promised.

She pressed her lips together. He hoped she was hiding a grin rather than a frown. Seeing her hesitation, he pasted his best ‘I don’t want to date you’ look on his face. It must have worked, since she gave a slow nod and shifted the books in her arms. He pointed toward the far end of town, and they started walking together down the sidewalk.

“Can I carry those for you?” he offered. Realizing what he’d said, he gave a mental groan.

Great going, Ross
. He hadn’t tried the ole ‘can I carry your books’ line to get his hands on a girl since LucyAnn Randall back in ninth grade. Then again, it’d worked just fine with LucyAnn. Not that he expected some hot necking behind the Dairy Queen with Miki. He eyed her full lips, curved in a shy smile, and had to admit, the necking did have appeal.

“I’ve got them,” she said, not letting go of her books.

Did that mean she’d turn him down if he offered a tour of the abandoned Dairy Queen?

“I visited your library. I was surprised at how well stocked your metaphysical section was. I’ve never seen one that extensive, even in L.A.”

He grunted. Damned town and its fascination with magic. Ignoring her silent question, he reached over to move her hand to see the titles. A flash of heat sparked when he touched the smooth warmth of her soft skin. Like watching lightning in a clear blue sky, it was both powerful and surprising. He hadn’t felt anything so... electric in years. He frowned. It was just static, that’s all. Telling himself to ignore the wiggy sense of deja vu, he quirked a brow at her instead.

“You’re thinking of putting me out of business?” he asked, with a nod to the home improvement books.

Confused, Miki glanced down, then laughed. “Believe me, I’m hardly a threat. So far the extent of my home improvement skills is changing light bulbs.”

With a quick glance for cars, Gideon cupped her elbow to guide her across the street. At the lack of electrical charge when he touched her, his shoulders relaxed. Wigginess gone, he gave himself over to the feel of her body close to his. He liked that she was tall. Tall enough that he’d be able to pull her flush against his body. That when he pressed her to him, he’d feel her curves.

When he kissed her, he wouldn’t have to bend, but would be able to mimic lovemaking on their feet, with his sex pressed against the juncture of her thighs.

After a brief pause, Gideon reluctantly released her arm. He didn’t want to, but walking into the store with a raging hard-on probably wasn’t wise. After all, he grimaced as they reached their destination, the town gossips were going to have a field day as it was.

“You’re not really offended, are you?” Miki asked.

He looked at her and frowned. Offended? Since gossip was a way of life in Rossdale, he didn’t see what good it would do to be offended. Then he realized she meant the books.

“Nah, I’m not offended. I hate to be the one to tell you, though, that there’s a lot more repair needed on that house than you’ll find in those books.”

He pulled open the wooden door to the store, and gestured her in ahead of him.

She, however, didn’t move. Instead, she stared, jaw sagging, at the window display.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh my. What... What are those?”

Gideon followed her gaze to the Ode to Rossdale. The display featured everybody in town who’d wanted to be included. At least a hundred figures were on display.

“Spud Dolls,” he told her, a hint of pride in his voice. And why not? They were, after all, the town’s main source of fame and income these days.

“Spud? As in potato?” She squinted and pressed her lips together like she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Hey, they are big business. Each one can be custom designed, complete with hair color, outfits, everything.”

“This is actually a business?” Her shock was clear in both her tone and the widening of her eyes. “They look like Mr. Potato Head mated with one of those ugly troll dolls with all the hair.”

“The Spud Doll Factory keeps Rossdale alive,” Gideon claimed, not willing to admit she wasn’t far from the truth. He was pretty sure the dolls had been inspired by a bottle of Jack Daniels, a troll doll, and a steak and potato dinner. “They grow on you.”

“Um, okay.” Her tone said she’d rather grow fungus, but she didn’t argue. Just entered the store with a bemused smile on her face.

“Oh, my,” she breathed when she stepped over the threshold. Wide-eyed, she looked around the store like she’d fallen onto a different planet and wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.

“Welcome to the heart of Rossdale,” Gideon said uncertainly. He remembered introducing another woman to Rossdale. Just the memory of her disdain was enough to rock him back on his heels. Was Miki the same? Were the women he was the most attracted to doomed to hate his town?

“This is...”

He winced and held his breath.

“Simply adorable.” She shot him a look and shrugged. “I told my brother when we drove through that I thought it looked like a movie set from the outside. Inside it’s even better. Look at the colors, the warmth here.”

Like a kid in a candy store, or a guy at the Corvette dealership, she darted from display to display. At a curved hat stand, she fingered one woven monstrosity and grinned at Gideon. Then she moved on to a banged up antique dresser. Gideon didn’t understand the fascination with the old musty looking clothes tumbling from the drawers, but Miki oohed and aahed. She traced one finger over the delicate rim of the china cup displayed on the dresser.

“It’s all so perfect. Just what you’d expect to find in a small town. It just screams history.”

“Since I think my great-grandma wore that dress hanging there, I suppose you’re right about the history,” Gideon agreed.

Miki stepped close to him and gave a deep sigh.

“That has to feel so good. Being able to trace your roots in such a tangible way.”

“Good? Some days, I suppose.” He tilted his head toward her and then gestured with his chin for her to head through the store. They passed the canned goods, the fruit display and the fishing gear on the way to the back wall. “Doesn’t your family have a strong history?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ve got a doozy of a history.” The snicker in her voice had him curious to hear the details, but before he could ask, she continued. “But as strong as my family’s tied to their past, they’ve never been big on staying in one place. Or hanging on to mementos. Things like your grandma’s dress, that make the past a living thing. You know? Something tangible.”

“Those tangible reminders aren’t always a good thing.”

“Of course not. That’s what makes it even more special,” Miki said with a smile. Gideon could tell a lot from that look, the curve of her lush lips and the sparkle in her midnight eyes. She was a woman who appreciated both the good and the bad. Who would accept, unconditionally, if she loved.

That might have scared him if he wasn’t so sure he was cured of believing in love.

Just to prove she wasn’t that fascinating, Gideon let her tour the rest of the store on her own. He stood in the pseudo-sports aisle, fingering a worn aluminum baseball bat and eyed the two dusty fishing rods. Mage Lake had some of the best fishing in the state. Not that it mattered. Rossdale was doing so poorly, the store couldn’t give away the equipment.

Gideon was mulling over the chances of people overcoming their phobia of the lake when he heard a commotion at the back of the store.

With a frown, he headed toward the raised voices.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he saw Fred staring Miki down like she was a shoplifter. She had a bag on the counter, and it looked like she was refusing to take the credit card Fred kept poking at her.

“Whatch’ya need, Gideon?”

Ignoring the questions in the old man’s eyes, Gideon made his way to the counter. He stopped, just behind Miki and in a glance, surmised the problem.

“You have a credit card machine, Fred. Why don’t you just use it?”

“Darned thing costs money. You know that. Store policy, no credit cards except from locals.”

“But I explained, I’m local,” Miki ground out, her frustration obvious in tone and in the stiff set of her shoulders. “I’m living out on—”

“I know, I know. The old Henderson place. Don’t matter. You ain’t local yet, missy.”

“Fine, I’ll write you a check.”

“Don’t take out of town checks.”

“I’ve only been here three days, I haven’t had a chance to open a local account yet.”

Fred just jutted out his lower lip and set his jaw.

“Look, Fred, I’ll vouch for her. Go ahead and take Miki’s card, or her check, whatever. I’ll make sure it’s good.”

Miki turned to glare at him.

“My credit is stellar. I don’t need anyone to vouch for me.”

He liked the way independence sparked in her eyes. Her lower lip stuck out in a way that just begged him to lean down and nibble on it. But Fred was getting enough of a free show as it was, so Gideon refrained.

“You want to buy that bag?” he asked, gesturing to the rainbow colored mesh tote thing she had on the counter.

“Yes.”

“Fred here ain’t gonna budge unless I vouch for you.”

“You can’t vouch for me, since you have no more idea than
Fred
here if I’m good for the money or not. So it’s not vouching. It’s charity. And I don’t need charity.”

The only reason Gideon didn’t roll his eyes was fear she’d punch him in front of Fred. She had that look about her, like she would be wild when she was riled up. Damned if he didn’t want to rile her and see.

When they were alone.

“Got cash?” he asked instead.

“Not with...” she trailed off. She squinted and pursed her lips, mumbled something, then reached into her back pocket. “Yeah. I forgot. I’ve got a twenty.” Not meeting his eyes, she turned and handed the money to Fred.