Playing for Hearts (106 page)

Gary's gaze softened and he nodded. He understood how she had to let the disappointment over her parents' lack of involvement go.

One drunk night, a few years ago, after she'd gone out with all the boys, Gary had been the ear to her troubles with her parents. She had known a little about his background being raised in foster care, and though he never shared any information with her, he'd let her talk until she'd fallen asleep. He knew how much her lack of parental pride bothered her.

“We've got news.” Diana plopped down on Dominic's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Does anyone want to take a guess?”

“You're pregnant?” Kate said, rubbing the roundness of her stomach where her own child grew.

“No. Not yet.” Diana grinned. “During the month of August next year, we're shutting down the B&B and hosting the twelve kids that go to Grayson's tennis camp. We signed a contract last week. Schyler's Tennis Center has already outgrown the dorm building Grayson had constructed in the back of his property, so Grayson's going to let the kids he sponsors live it up at our place. I can't wait. We'll have a house full of kids to motivate and help further their dreams.”

“That's awesome,” Crista said.

If anyone could inspire kids, it was Dominic. He'd fought his way to the top of the hockey circuit from his beginnings as a poor, but much loved, kid from Russia. His quiet acceptance and positive speeches enthralled many children not to give up on their dreams.

“Well, we've got news too. We're pregnant,” Juan blurted. “I mean Dana is.”

Before they could react, Shauna jogged down the stairs and hugged Juan and Dana together. Crista waited her turn, and after all hugs and kisses were once again shared, she pulled Bruce to the side of the room.

“I need to catch my breath. Can we go outside for a few minutes?” she asked.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He led her by the hand out the front door.

Outside, she inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air. The last week had been a whirlwind of running here and there, getting married, setting up meetings, getting familiar with her new position, and most of all, getting used to being with Bruce every step of the way. She slipped her hand from his, and tucked her fingers in his back pocket.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She smiled up at him. “Perfect. I just miss being with my husband.”

“We could go back to the hotel in town and call it a night.” He wiggled his brows. “Maybe skip out later for a dip in the pool.”

“Hm. You did keep me from swimming my laps last night.” She curled into him, until they were breasts to stomach. “Do you ever stop and notice that we've had a thing for water since the day where we scandalized all of Moses Lake?”

“My girl, water and a fishing pole, that's all I need.” He kissed her lips lightly and mumbled, “And fish.”

“Speaking of fish, I've been meaning to ask you what you did with that freezer full of halibut at my old apartment?” she asked.

“Nothing, why?” He brushed her hair off her shoulders.

She stiffened. “You didn't give it to the Fredricksons?”

“No,” he said.

“Oh my God.” She stepped back. “I unplugged the fridge and freezer when I left for the airport to meet you.”

She covered her mouth and laughed. The more she tried to stop, the louder she became, until she was holding on to Bruce, wiping her cheeks dry on his T-shirt. Karma really was a bitch.

“Do you want to let me in on why a smelly freezer of fish is funny?” Bruce held her shoulders.

“I … ” She barked with laughter. “I called the manager at the apartment complex yesterday to give them my forwarding address to send me the tax papers I need to write off my classes I taught while I was living there … ”

“And?” he asked.

“Terry—that's the manager's name—informed me that Janelle had requested a move into my old apartment because she stated the air coming off the ocean was good for her complexion. He hates dealing with her, so he told her he'd wave the deposit if she cleaned my old apartment out herself.” She pressed her hand on her chest. “She's going to get quite the surprise when she opens up the freezer and finds all the packages of thawed and rotted halibut.”

Bruce stalked forward and pinned Crista between his body and the side of the porch. He kissed her thoroughly, paying attention to her lips, her tongue, her senses. The humor settled in her lower stomach and warmed. She tried to summon a little bit of guilt over Janelle's unfortunate mishap, but Bruce's attention made that impossible.

“You're an evil woman, sweetheart.” He grinned.

“She deserves it,” she said.

He pulled back. “Let's say goodnight to the others, and go back to the hotel.”

“Yeah, I'm ready.” She wiped the lipstick she'd put on for the occasion off the corner of his mouth. “I'm going to wear you down and win this time.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Only you would turn sex into a competition.”

“You like what I do, honey.” She smiled up at him as they walked to the front door. “I have to feed my competitive side somewhere now that I'm settling down.”

He stopped before she could walk inside. “Anytime, anywhere, sweetheart.”

She followed him into the house, sure that everyone knew why she was smiling, and not caring if they did. She had everything she'd ever wanted, including her best friend.

The deep, rich scent of Colombian bean filled the eight-by-six shed on wheels. Tori Baldwin pulled the grape lollipop out of her mouth, tossed it in the garbage, and flipped the switch for the florescent green
Open
sign.
Let's make some money
.

She slid the window open and leaned outside. “Welcome to the Coffee Shack. What can I get you this morning?”

An over-happy mother in an SUV with two kids sitting in the back seat held out a five-dollar bill. “I'd like a small latte, no whipped cream, please.”

“Coming right up.” Tori stuck the small cup under the dispenser and turned to the woman. “Love advice is free with any order.”

“Excuse me?” said the woman.

“If you have a question or problem with your love life, I'll give you advice on how to get back on track and smiling.” She slipped a drinking lid onto the cup and passed it through the window, taking the woman's money. “Anything at all. I'm here to help.”

“No, thanks. With kids and a husband I don't have time to even think about a love life.” The woman laughed and waved off the change. “Keep it.”

“Thank you.” She shrugged and waved to the next customer to pull forward.

A German shepherd leaped over the lap of the driver and barked at her. She stepped away from the window, grabbed a dog biscuit from under the counter, and set the treat on the ledge. “What can I get you today?”

“Straight, black coffee. Large.” A husky man with a dirty baseball cap pushed the dog down and followed it up with a pat. “Stay, Sergeant.”

“Beautiful dog you have.” She poured the drink, added the lid, and handed it through the window. “Love advice is free with every purchase. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Love?” He chuckled. “I don't think so.”

“Come on, you look like a guy some woman would be happy to meet.” She handed over the doggy treat. “Ask me anything at all.”

His brows rose and he kept one hand on the dog. “Okay, I'll give it a shot.”

“Dude … you won't regret it.” She grinned.

“Where's the best place to pick up women in this town?” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Try to answer that one, 'cause I'm not having any luck. I'm a long-haul trucker, so I'm not around much but when I'm home, I'd like to have a little company. Maybe a home-cooked meal if you know what I'm saying.”

“Gotcha.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward. “Saturday night at Cactus Cove, there's a waitress by the name of Ginger. She's tired of normal pickup lines, so be blunt and upfront. Oh, and she has a cocker spaniel, so she loves dogs.”

“Heh.” He removed his hat, ran his hand over his forehead. “Maybe I'll stop in there. What can I lose, right?”

“Not a penny. Ginger has brown hair down to her shoulders. About — she held her hand a few inches above her head — this tall. A real sweetie. Tell you what I'll do. Give me your name. I'll drop a few hints about you tonight when I go there for dinner.”

He studied her, shook his head, and the laugh lines around his mouth deepened. “I can't believe I'm doing this … ”

“Your name?”

“Dwayne,” he said.

She handed him the change. “Great. Here you go, Dwayne, and good luck with Ginger.”

“Uh, thanks.” He glanced back at her as he drove away, shaking his head in amusement.

Tori hadn't been joking. Ginger was looking for a steady man in her life.

For the next four hours, customers came and went. Tori refilled the machines and prepared for the next wave to arrive when the line emptied. Only working the morning hours would be enough to finance her stay in the quiet, off-the-main-road town of Pitnam, Oregon, and put away a little cash each week for her next trip. Once she locked up for the day, she'd have enough time to check out the town and do her own thing.

She wiped down the counters, sealed the containers of coffee, and closed the blinds. Pitnam offered her enough entertainment for a while and was big enough she wouldn't have to form any lasting relationships.

For a brief time, she'd allow herself to fit in. She'd pretend she had what everyone else did. Then when the newness wore off and people started growing too close, she'd move on and reinvent herself somewhere else.

She never regretted her nomad life. Not a single second thought happened during the day. But when she laid her head on the pillow to go to sleep, her dreams consumed her. When those wishes became too hard to control, she ran. A new location, new customers, and a new start.

Hearing chest-thumping noise that rattled the mobile shack and sent the paper cups to falling on the counter, she glanced out the screen door. A group of men on motorcycles cruised around on the gravel, riding in a circle and stirring up dust.

Well, they'd have to come back tomorrow for coffee. She was done for the day.

After locking the Coffee Shack's door, she walked around and double-checked the lock on the hitch. Unable to afford insurance, she devised a barrier to keep anyone from hooking onto the trailer and stealing her only source of income.

Satisfied everything was sealed up tight, she walked across the parking lot, gazing over her shoulder, smiling at her turn of good luck. The corner of a parking lot on a busy road was the perfect place to set up business for a while.

A biker pulled into the lot and veered in front of her. The hot air from the muffler blew across her bare legs, and she jumped away. Then another motorcycle skimmed the back of her knees, forcing her forward. The noise deafening, she tottered as one biker after another threatened to run her over.

Her over-the-shoulder bag fell to the ground. She bent her arms and covered her breasts, dodging from left foot to right, avoiding the roar of the engines as they rode past her, circled, and came around her again. Heart racing, she stared in horror as they blocked her in.

Dust from their tires clogged her throat. She coughed and turned in a circle, searching for an opening to escape. Afraid if she blinked, they'd run her over.

One dude, beard down to the middle of his chest, skullcap tied over his windblown long hair, stopped in front of her. He leered, and a shiver skirted down her spine at seeing the white of his eyes.

She sidestepped, but another rider moved in closer from behind her, forcing her to move right into Crazy Eyes' bike. She squeaked and stopped herself from falling onto him by grabbing his arm.

“Climb on.” Crazy Eyes motioned with his head.

She shook her head. “No. No, thank you.”

“I said, climb on.”

That was a definite clue that she was over her head and in trouble. She sidestepped, but another biker cut off her retreat. “I don't want to ride your motorcycle. Now move.”

“Looks like she made her choice, Harry.” The newcomer to the roundup hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Wrap those legs around me, bitch.”

“You did not just say that to me.” She glanced in all directions.
Shit.

Four bikers boxed her in. Another row of riders circled them. She had no hope that some sane person would jump to her rescue.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, bending over to catcalls to pick up her purse.

She straightened and glared. “Oh, knock it off. I really don't want to ride on any of your bikes, so get the hell out of my — ”

An engine roared, cutting the rest of her words off. She flinched. This wasn't going the way she'd hoped. She'd have to try another tactic.

“I'm Tori, I own the Coffee Shack.” She pointed toward her left at the mobile trailer at the corner of Cactus Cove's parking lot.

As if the riders planned it, they revved their bikes in answer. She planted her fists on her hips. “Can you stop that? I was going to say, I'll give you free — ”

The noise level increased, until she covered her ears. How did they expect to hear what she had to say if they kept interrupting and setting their bikes off?

A hand grabbed her around the upper arm. She tugged and fell forward when she broke loose, and landed in Crazy Eyes' lap. His arm went around her waist, and he hauled her in front of him on the bike.
Oh, God.

She screamed as she desperately tried to peel off his fat fingers, but he only laughed. At least, she thought he was laughing. She couldn't be sure with all the noise, but his body shook.