Come Closer, Cowboy. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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