Page 76 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

He sighed and leaned back against the counter, bringing her with him and cradling her against his body. “After the accident, my mother sued the hospital for malpractice when they missed a brain bleed on Honey’s scans. She was awarded millions, and she was supposed to use it for Honey’s medical expenses.”

“But she didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, and he gave her a sad smile.

“No, she didn’t. She stuck Honey in a state hospital and blew through the money like crazy. By the time I got out and found out what was going on, maybe a couple hundred thousand were left.”

“Oh my God.”

It was exactly what he’d thought when he’d found out what his mother had done, but had he been surprised? Not really. His mother was who she was, and it had never done him any good to expect more from her than the very least she could give.

“Yeah, never trust a gambler with a large sum of money,” Gabe said, trying—but failing—to make light of one of the most difficult points of his life. “I hired an attorney who was willing to work for a percentage and sued my mother for power of attorney for my sister’s care and her settlement. We were in the middle of court proceedings when some junkie shot her for her purse in Reno.”

“Shut up,” Caroline said, searching his face. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope,” he said, thinking back to that morning when the police had shown up at his apartment to give him the news. For the longest time, he’d actually been ashamed that his first reaction at their news had been relief. Relief that his mom couldn’t gamble away any more of Honey’s money and that he might have a chance to recoup some of the money his mother had lost. Of course, he’d never share that with Caroline. Some things were just better kept to oneself.

“And she’d never changed her will from the time she had coffee cans buried in our backyard, so everything went to Honey and me. Right after the funeral, I sold everything she owned and put the money in an account for Honey’s care that gains interest. Paid off the legal fees and found her a new facility in Colorado. We lived there for eight years, but it was too expensive for me to start up a new business, and that’s what I wanted to do.”

“So, that’s why you moved here? But why here, of all places?” she asked, playing with the fingers on his hand.

The soft touches were innocent enough, but coming from her, his thoughts started to stray to other places her fingers could skim. “Well, ’cause I didn’t want to live in a place that got a lot of snow ever again, so Sun Valley was out, and because my best friend from high school lived here.”

“Who is that?”

“Chase Trepasso. He owns the tattoo shop down the street,” he said, reaching up to trail his thumb across the skin of her neck.

He saw her lips twitch like she was fighting a smile. “Of course your best friend is a tattoo artist.”

Reaching out to cup the back of her neck, he growled, “What’s that supposed to mean? What are you trying to say, woman?”

“Nothing,” she said, giggling.

“Are you trying to say that us bad-boy types stick together, huh?” he said, poking her ribs with his other hand until she was screaming.

“No! I’m sorry! Stop!”

Gabe brought her closer as her laughter subsided. “If I’m going to help you make this cake, I better go with you to the store. Since you lack my mad culinary skills, I can’t rely on you to get everything I need.”

Caroline tried to hit him playfully, but he caught her hand. Dipping her, he kissed her hard and fast until she was clinging to him. When he had her right where he wanted her, he lifted her back to her feet and smacked her ass.

“Come on, sous chef! Time’s a-wasting.”

DESPITE GABE’S CAVEMAN-LIKE teasing, Caroline was glad he’d offered to come with her. It had only taken a few minutes to get to the store, and when they walked inside, Gabe ripped off the bottom of the list they’d made and handed it to her.

“You go grab this, while I get everything else.”

She glanced down at the scrap of paper. Birthday card.

“Very funny,” she said, smacking his arm before she grabbed a cart.

“Give me that cart, and go pick out the card. You can meet me in the cake aisle when you’re done,” he said, leaning down like he was going to kiss her. Just before their lips touched, he turned his face away and propelled the cart forward, placing both feet up on the lower bar.

“Jerk,” she called after him, ignoring the stares from several shoppers as she headed toward the card aisle. Caroline saw the clerk at checkout stand one and was tempted to stick her tongue out at her. Every time she came in, the clerk pretended not to see Caroline standing in line unless other people started lining up behind her. She vaguely remembered the woman from high school but had no idea what she’d done to her.

Stopping in front of the wall of cards, she started picking them up one at a time, reading the front and inside. After several duds, she found one with an old woman and a funny innuendo about gravity on the inside and picked up the envelope that went with it.

When she spun around, she ran smack into Marcus Boatman.

“Yikes, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was there.”

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