Page 21 of Tempting Fate
Yeah, she was lying, all right. There was no new addition. The place was already large enough to fit an entire battalion. Raylene was up to something, and his sixth sense told him that whatever it was, it was no good.
He arched a brow. “Tacky, huh?”
Raylene started to say something, then her attention snapped to the front of the restaurant, where Tawny Rodriguez had just come through the door. A couple sitting by the window, wearing matching bear hoodies, waved to her. She waved back and walked straight to the bar, presumably to pick up a takeout order.
That was the thing about a small town: you couldn’t avoid your enemies.
“Shit,” Raylene muttered.
“Are you planning to kiss me again?”
She snorted and snatched up the menu to hide her face, trying to make herself as small as possible.
Gabe tilted his head. “With those turquoise boots, she can see you from a mile away.” Especially because Tawny was a boot designer and had footwear radar. Her custom shit-kickers donned the feet of celebrities, athletes, and a veritable who’s who of the West. And probably the East, North, and South. “I’m guessing those”—he pointed at her feet—“are not hers.”
“Good guess, New Jersey,” she sneered. “Tell me when she’s gone.”
“Seriously? You’re going to sit in the corner and cower? I thought you were tough, Ray.”
She gave him a middle-finger salute, then feigned interest in the condiment caddy. He scarfed down a few more nachos, took a swig of beer, and waited for Tawny to leave before declaring the coast clear.
“What are you planning to do at the wedding? Hole up in the head?” Between Maisy and Tawny, Raylene was already running scared.
She let out a breath. “I haven’t figured it out yet.” She swiped a chip and pointed it at him. “I’m trying not to make a spectacle out of myself. Believe it or not, what you saw in Denver isn’t who I am.”
Who was she kidding? From everything Gabe had heard—and seen—it was exactly who she was. “Really? Folks are still talking about your episode at the Gas and Go.”
“I was drunk.”
“It’s okay, Ray, we’ve all done our fair share of regrettable things.” Lord knew he had. One of his had been a redhead with a pissed off boyfriend. He’d like to say another was babysitting the blonde across the table, but he was enjoying himself too much.
“Like what?” She sat up.
“I went off to war and made my mama cry.”
She rolled her eyes. “You steal that from a country-western song, New Jersey?”
“I don’t listen to that shit. Classic rock, mainly.” He leaned across the table and brushed tortilla chip crumbs from her sweater. “I got my high school sweetheart pregnant.” He never talked about it, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth, and now he was stuck with them.
“And let me guess, you joined the Navy to do your patriotic duty and stuck her with a kid to raise, alone.”
“Cynic doesn’t look good on you, Ray. Actually, Bianca lost the baby, then I ran off to join the Navy.” That wasn’t the whole story, but that was all he was telling her.
They both had their secrets. And tomorrow he was going to find out what hers were.
Chapter 6
Raylene loaded a shovel and a pickax into her truck early the next morning. Between Annie and Logan, there was no shortage of tools in the garage, which saved Raylene a trip to the hardware store. Logan and Annie had taken Maisy and Nick to breakfast in town, so Raylene figured it was okay to help herself.
Maisy had turned out to be a delight, Nick hysterical, telling one joke after another. Neither seemed to hold any ill will against Raylene, despite the fact that originally she’d tried to cut Logan out of his inheritance. God, she’d been too stupid to live back then, and often wondered why God hadn’t sent down a lightning bolt to strike her over the head.
With the map tucked securely under her floor mat, she felt like a 49er, setting out to strike it rich. Nugget was a Gold Rush town, after all. She put some Garth Brooks on the stereo, turned it up loud, and headed out, hoping to find Levi’s Gold before tonight’s rehearsal dinner. Then she could tell Dana to accept Moto Entertainment’s offer and be watching a Santa Monica sunset by Monday.
Two hours later, she cursed the cold, hard dirt under her feet and flung the stupid map onto the driver’s seat. She felt a blister on the heel of her left foot. Despite the old song lyrics, her boots were not made for walking. They were made for a pair of sterling silver-studded stirrups.
She bent down and held her knees, trying to catch her breath. It was twenty degrees, but her skin was clammy with sweat from digging. Knowing her luck, if she worked without a jacket she’d catch pneumonia.
Raylene straightened up and poked at her hand where the skin had cracked. If she’d been thinking, she would’ve worn gloves.
