The Sheriff's Secret Wife

Racy sank to the sofa, eyes wide with shock. His enjoyment of her distress drained away. He could see the idea of being married to him was turning her stomach.

She finally looked at him. “Gage, what are we going to do?”

“I can’t think straight without coffee and I’m hungry as a bear. We should concentrate on eating first.”

“How can you think about food at a time like this?” Racy shot to her feet and advanced on him. “This is crazy! You don’t want to be stuck with me and I sure as hell don’t want to be married to you.”

Okay, that was plain enough. “Racy—”

“We have to figure a way out of this. Can you imagine what the good citizens of Destiny would say if we showed up at home with matching rings?”

Yeah, it’d probably cover everything from “atta boy” to “I give it six months.”

“You hate me! You’ve felt that way since high school.”

“I don’t hate you.”

She snorted. “I’m not even worth that strong of an emotion, huh? Fine. Then you disapprove of me, of the way I live my life, of my family. Moonshining, drunk and disorderly, petty theft, drugs … first your father and then you took great pleasure in busting my brothers, making sure that last time they got the maximum jail sentence.”

“I was doing my job.”

“The night my father drove that rattrap pickup into a telephone pole, you were the first one to my place—”

“I didn’t want you to hear about it from anyone else.”

“No, you wanted to break me … again. You wanted to see me cry over the fact my sorry excuse of a husband and my daddy were so drunk it wasn’t the crash that killed them, but the both of them walking in front of an eighteen-wheeler an hour later.”

“Yeah, you were so brokenhearted you didn’t shed a tear.”

She paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t cry for anyone. Not anymore.”

Before he could respond, a discreet knock came at the door. Racy marched across the room. She flung open the door and waved the uniformed waiter and his cart inside.

“Any place you’d like this?” the young kid asked with a polite smile. “The terrace is a favorite among our guests.”

Gage glanced at the glass doors at the other end of the suite. Racy and him in the open air thirty stories above the ground? Not on your life. “Ah, here is fine.”

He opened his wallet, but Racy snatched the bill from the cart, scratched her name on the paper inside the leather case and handed it to the waiter. “It’s my suite. I’m paying.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The waiter retreated to the doors. “Thank you, ma’am.” He disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Gage grabbed two chairs from the nearby dining table and shoved them on either side of the cart. The aroma coming from beneath the silver domes made his mouth water. He still felt like crap, but a hearty breakfast the morning after always did wonders for him. “Come on, sit.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Fine.” Gage sat. He needed coffee. Strong, black and right now. “Stand and eat. I really don’t care.”

“Gage—”

“Look, we both agree we need to figure out a way to fix this—”

“And keep it a secret.” Racy cut him off. “I don’t want anyone to know how stupid I—how stupid we both were last night.”

The coffee burned on its way down his throat, but it was no more scorching than her words. Why it bothered him, he didn’t want to think about. He should’ve known last night hadn’t changed anything. The warm and fun-loving woman he’d held in his arms was an illusion.

Reality was standing right here in front of him.

“I’ll call the concierge. We can’t be the first couple to have morning-after regrets.” Gage set aside the domes with a loud clang and reached for a fork. “What’s that saying, ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’?”

The sight of a gold-and-diamond band shoved under his nose stopped the fork midway to his mouth. He looked up, but with her chin dropped, Racy’s hair covered her face.

“What are you doing?”

“Here. Take it.”

“You bought it.”

“I don’t care.” She shook her head, dropping the ring into the water goblet next to his plate. It slowly sunk past the floating ice cubes to rest at the bottom. “I don’t want it. Toss it, leave it for the maid … it doesn’t matter to me.”

She grabbed the apple juice from the cart, her fingers gripping the glass, but it still sloshed over the rim as she headed across the suite. Seconds later, the bathroom door slammed closed behind her.

Gage rose and started after her, stopping when he heard the sound of rushing water. The mental image of his wife in the oversize glass shower, water jets pulsating against her peaches-and-cream skin, had his lower half instantly responding.

He jammed his fingers through his hair, his gaze catching on the gold band on his left hand. Tugging off the ring, he tossed it toward the cart, watching it make a perfect arc to join Racy’s in the water glass with a splash.

She wasn’t his wife. In a matter of hours she wouldn’t even be his ex-wife. What did one call a former spouse after an annulment?

A mistake, that’s what.

Chapter Two

Last week of January …

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s no need to swear. Do I have to repeat myself?”

Gage stared at his little sister. Okay, not so little, but still younger than him by a decade, sitting on the other side of the aged desk that had once belonged to their father. She’d appeared in his office early this cold Saturday morning to announce she’d gotten a job. At a bar, of all places.

And not just any bar, Racy’s bar.

“Yes.”

“Racy hired me last night to work at The Blue Creek.”

“I was at The Blue Creek last night. I didn’t see you.” Gage refused to concede how just the sound of her name got his blood racing. Damn the woman! What had she done now?

“Well, I was there and I didn’t see you.”

“I stop in most nights to make sure everything is okay.”

“Yes, I can see how the big, bad sheriff waving around his badge would keep everyone on the straight and narrow.”

“I stay out of sight and I don’t wave—” Gage pulled in a deep breath. He slowly released it and dropped his mail to his desk, his attention fully on his sister. “Gina, what are you doing? You’ve got two degrees, one of which is a master’s.”

“For all the good it did me in the real world.”

The pain in his sister’s voice was evident. When she’d arrived home from England just before Thanksgiving, he’d known something was wrong. Even Gina couldn’t finish a year-long fellowship in less than three months.

“Think I’m a bit overqualified to work in a bar?”

“Yes.”

“Or is it I’m not pretty enough?”

Where in the hell had that come from?

Gage studied the rigid set of his sister’s shoulders. Her sheepskin-lined denim jacket had once belonged to their father. With her curly hair pulled back in its usual ponytail and her gold-framed glasses, she could pass for a high school classmate of their younger sister, Giselle.

She certainly didn’t look like the waitresses who, thanks to their short skirts, tight jeans and barely-there T-shirts, served up beers and burgers at Destiny’s local watering hole.

Women like Racy.

Last night she’d been dressed from head to toe in black, from the stomach-baring tank top to the jeans molding her perfect curves to the cowboy boots on her feet. The only color came from her flame-red hair and the gold jewelry she wore at her ears, neck and … belly button.

The piercing was new. It hadn’t been there five months ago. He should know. The gleaming diamond stud had fueled a fantasy he’d awoken from in the early morning hours, drenched in a cold sweat. Par for the course lately.

“Thank you for rushing to my defense.”

Gage blinked, his sister’s dry tone drawing him out of his thoughts. “Huh? No, you’re pretty, you’re beautiful. It’s …”

“I know. The girls who work there look … different.” Gina glanced down at her clothes. “What can I say? My life has been more about books than looks, but Racy said she’d help me.”

“Help you?”

“She offered to give me tips on hairstyles and clothes.”

Gage tried to picture his sister dressed like the flamboyant redhead. His mind wouldn’t allow the visual to come to life. He leaned forward. “Gina, those girls aren’t only selling booze and food. They’re selling a good time. They flirt and tease—hell, Racy’s even got them line dancing on the bar.”

“Racy said some of her girls work to help their families make ends meet.”

“True,” Gage conceded, “but other than last night when’s the last time you were in The Blue Creek? In any bar?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Most of Racy’s girls are young, single and looking for a good time.”

Gina jumped to her feet. “Hey, I, too, am young, single and looking for a good time. I’ve had it with genius IQs and think tanks. All those years away at school, I don’t even know most of the twenty somethings in this town. I want friends my own age. I want to meet guys my own age. Did you know this past summer was the first time …”

Gina’s voice trailed off. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them as she straightened. “I’m doing this, whether you like it or not. I came here first because Racy thought I should tell you.”

“She what?”

“Racy said I should let you know about working for her.”

Yeah, he just bet she did. She’d hired Gina to spite him.

From the moment they’d walked out of the lawyer’s office last August and into the Las Vegas sunshine, she had taken great pleasure in either pretending he didn’t exist or antagonizing the hell out of him. At first, he’d avoided the bar, letting his deputies cover both the peaceful and the more frequent not-so-peaceful watches.

Then during the baseball play-offs a free-for-all had broken out at The Blue Creek. He’d arrived in time to get in the middle of flying fists. After getting knocked on his ass, he’d looked up to find Racy consoling Dwayne McGraw, his former high school teammate. Married with six kids, Dwayne outweighed him by a hundred pounds. He was also too drunk and pissed off about his team losing to listen to anyone telling him to calm down.

Anyone but Racy.

And that’d annoyed Gage more than it should have.

“Hello?” Gina snapped her fingers. “You still with me or have I shocked you into silence?”

“I’m here.” He blinked away the memory. “Look, I can fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“I can talk to the principal at the high school.” He started making notes on his desk calendar. “See if they have any openings. Or I could check with the University of Wyoming—”

Gina slapped her hand on top of his, forcing the pen from his fingers. “I want to meet people my own age, not teach them. Stop trying to solve a problem that isn’t there and stop telling me what to do. Geez, I’m twenty-two, not twelve.”

He looked at his sister. “I’m not telling you what to do.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

A deep sigh gutted from his chest. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he looked at Gina he saw long braids and chunky braces. “Promise me you’ll be careful and not do anything crazy.”

“Like dancing on the bar?” The look in his sister’s eyes matched one he’d seen many times before, both in the mirror and in the faces of their siblings. Determination.

“Gina—”

“I’ve got to go.” She cut him off. “I’m meeting my boss for a makeover session that will create a whole new Gina.”

That’s what he was afraid of. “I like the old Gina.”

“You’re family, you have to say that.” She headed for the door. “Trust me, not every man agrees with you. See you.”

She was gone before he could respond.

Gage frowned. Something was wrong. He’d tried to stay connected to Gina during her years away, especially after the loss of their father. Asking her about it wouldn’t do any good. Unlike the twins, she closely guarded her feelings and her high IQ further isolated her.

He was certain about one thing, though. Working in a bar wasn’t the answer. Maybe he’d better have a talk with Max. Racy managed the staff, but the owner was an old friend of his dad’s. He figured he could get Max to override Racy’s hiring decision.

Confidence filled him as he went back to sorting his mail. The return address for the State Bar Association of Nevada on a business-size envelope caught his eye. A tightening in his gut told him it wasn’t good news. The only dealing he’d had with Nevada lately was the annulment paperwork folded neatly in his top dresser-drawer. He opened the letter and started to read, not quite believing the words. Seconds later, he crushed the letter in his fist.

Racy was proud of herself. Gina had been in her company for over two hours and she still hadn’t asked how her big brother had reacted to the news. She concentrated instead on getting to know Gage’s sister and bringing out the beautiful girl hiding behind the baggy clothes and nondescript hairstyle.

Gina now sported contacts after she revealed she had them, but usually stuck with her glasses. He hair fell in a dark, smooth, glossy curtain and artfully applied makeup, a bit on the heavy side but perfect for the bar, played up those gorgeous Steele blue eyes.

When they’d arrived at The Blue Creek a few minutes ago, she’d given Gina a couple of T-shirts with the bar’s logo to try on. The door to the ladies’ restroom opened and Gina walked into the break room used by the rest of the staff.

“Hey, you look great.”

“You don’t think it’s—” Gina tugged at the tee’s cropped hem that rested above the low waistband of her new body-hugging jeans “—a bit too tight?”

“It’s supposed to be tight, honey, and you have the body for it.” Racy waved her over to the floor-length mirror. “See?”

The relief in the young girl’s eyes when she saw her reflection pulled at Racy’s heart. Not much surprised her anymore, but she’d been floored when the librarian look-alike had asked last night about a job. And she hadn’t hired Gina purely for the satisfaction of getting to her older brother. No, she truly needed help, with two of her girls quitting a week ago.

Ruffling the sheriff’s feathers was only an added bonus.

“We’ll use the next few hours getting you used to the menu and the ordering system,” she said. “You can practice carrying a trayful of drinks, too.”

Gina nodded and they headed for the bar. A raucous country song blared over the sound system. A group of girls, lined up on the middle of the dance floor, broke out into precision dance steps. Horror crossed the girl’s features. “I’m not going to be doing that, am I?”

Imagining the look on Gage’s face when he found his sister dancing on the bar was priceless, but Racy wouldn’t do that to Gina. Besides, Gage hadn’t been back to The Blue Creek since the baseball play-offs melee.

Coward.

“No, those are the Blue Creek Belles. They didn’t perform last night, but they dance as well as serve up food and drinks.” Racy reached beneath the bar to lower the volume on the sound system. “I’m giving you the six tables in that area.”

The relief on Gina’s face switched to panic again. “Six? Are you sure?”

Racy grabbed menus and a large tray. “I’ll be here if you need help, and the other girls will pitch in if things get busy.”

“I really appreciate this.” Gina leaned forward and propped her forearms on the bar. “I was going stir-crazy at home.”

“It must be nice being back with your family.”

Oh, real smooth. Try to get her to talk about her brother without coming right out and asking.

Gina leaned against the bar. “It is good to be home after being gone most of my life to private schools and then college. With Gage finally out of the house, I grabbed the converted attic, complete with its own bath.”

Racy’s hands stilled over the beer bottles in the under-counter cooler. “His place on the lake is done?”

Gina nodded, tucking a long strand of hair behind one ear. She opened the menu, studying the items intently. “Can you believe it? He’s been working on that log house forever.”

Four years, but who’s counting? “Well, I’m sure he’s happy to finally be in his own bachelor pad.”

She had no idea how big of a place Gage had built, but she’d bet her entire Vegas winnings it came complete with an oversize hot tub, pool table and a king-size bed for all six-feet-plus of him.

The memory of another king-size bed, her body pressed deep into the cool sheets with Gage’s hot, hard body draped over—Stop!

Racy groaned and yanked the bottles from the cooler. Doing nothing since Vegas but studying and working should’ve erased the memories of that crazy night, but no, they remained bright and strong and ever-present in her head.

“Hey, boss lady.”

Racy looked up.

Ric Murphy, one of her security team members, stood behind Gina. “Max needs to see you in his office.”

“Okay.” She turned to Gina. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll be here.”

Racy grinned and headed for the stairs that led to the second floor and her boss’s office. Hopefully her office in a few months. A former musician, Max’s band once had a couple of hits on country radio. He’d owned The Blue Creek since the early eighties and had joked about retiring ever since Racy had started working here. And after eight years of waitressing, then bartending and finally managing The Blue Creek, she was ready for the next step.

A step that had been only a dream until she had returned from Vegas with fifty grand in poker winnings.

And another ex-husband.

Her footsteps faltered on the top step. No, not a husband. Ex or otherwise. Her and Gage’s twelve-hour marriage was a mistake, a lapse in judgment that she’d fixed and tried—erotic memories notwithstanding—to forget.

She stopped at the office door and knocked, waiting for Max’s response. At the sound of his gruff bark, she entered and froze.

Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and the same leather bomber jacket he’d worn for years, Gage Steele stood at the large window behind her boss’s desk. He turned, leaned against the frame and stared straight at her. At least she thought so. The ivory Stetson he always wore was pulled low, shielding his eyes.

The Marlboro Man. In the flesh. Minus the cigarette, of course. Mr. Perfect wouldn’t dare to do anything that might be considered a weakness.

“You wanted to see me?” Her tone was sharp, but Racy was glad she got the words past the sudden tightness of her throat.

What the hell was Gage doing here? Was it Gina?

That’s stupid. Of course, he’s here about his sister.

“Ah, there’s a pair of scissors at the barbershop waiting on me.” Max rose from behind his desk. He tugged a coat over his Western dress shirt. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Racy demanded.

Gage stayed silent as he moved out of the older man’s way.

“Be nice.” Max’s words were low, his lips barely moving beneath his bushy gray mustache as he walked toward Racy. He grabbed the door to pull it closed behind him. “And don’t make a mess of my office.”

“Max—” He disappeared before Racy could say another word. She stared at the door for a long moment before the sound of a throat clearing had her whirling around.

“What do you want?”

Gage pushed away from the window. A deep breath expanded his shoulders. His open jacket revealed a dark red chambray shirt over a black thermal pullover. The undone buttons on both shirts showed off the strong column of his neck. Even in the dead of winter the man’s skin carried a glow of deep bronze. A glow she remembered he had over every inch of his—

Racy mentally slammed the door shut on the memory. “Well?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and crossed the office to where she stood. “We need to talk.”

His low voice caused a shiver to dance along her skin. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Dammit, the aged gray sweat jacket again.

Gage’s sweat jacket. Normally, she never left her place with it on, but Gina had shown up while she was studying and she’d forgotten to take it off. She doubted he even remembered how she had come to own it, but she wasn’t going to take that chance. Thankful for the tank top she wore underneath, a quick zip and the jacket was off her shoulders. She used the sleeves to tie it around her waist.

His eyes followed her every move. “Why’d you do that?”

Yeah, like she was going to tell him she was crazy enough to hold on to this thing all these years. “It’s hot in here.”

An unreadable emotion filled his blue eyes. He blinked and it was gone. But his gaze stayed on her as he moved forward until the toes of his boots grazed hers.

She didn’t budge.

For the first time since that weekend in Vegas, she and Gage were alone. Something they’d managed to avoid all these months. Oh, they’d seen each other. It couldn’t be helped in a town the size of Destiny, but they hadn’t spoken.

Until now.

“What are you doing in my bar, Gage?”

The brim of his Stetson grazed her hair. “I thought this place belonged to Max.”

Not for long. “On paper. I’m the one who keeps it running.”

“Always to the point, aren’t you?”

“What I am is busy.” She broke free from his hypnotic gaze and again crossed her arms. A few side steps had her resting her backside against Max’s desk. “So, why did you scare my boss out of his office?”

Gage turned, his clenched fists visibly pressing against the creased leather. “We need to talk about a couple of things—”

“And one of them is your sister.” Racy cut him off with a wave of her hand. “You went to Max about her working here, and what? Called in an old family favor? But he told you to deal with me. So, go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

“My best shot?”

“In convincing me to fire her, but I’ll give you my answer right now. No way.”

His mouth pressed into a hard line, then he said, “This is the last place Gina should be working.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Because?”

“The girl has a master’s degree in twentieth-century British and Irish studies.”

“And that’s going to hinder her in carrying a trayful of burgers and beer?”

“Dammit, Racy! She’s not equipped to deal with the horny cowboys and college kids that come in here.”

“Unlike me, you mean.”

“You certainly have a way of keeping them in line.”

From anyone else, she might’ve taken that as a compliment. Coming from Gage, it sounded more like an insult. “If you’re referring to that brawl in October, I was handling everything just fine until you walked in.”

“Including Dwayne. After I stopped his fist with my face.”

She fought against a grin and lost. “You should’ve ducked.” Her tone turned serious again. “Look, I wasn’t going to let Dwayne use a lopsided loss by his team as an excuse to start a fight. Besides, his right hook didn’t shake you up too bad.”

“It hurt like hell.”

Let it go. You don’t want to go there. “Well, I’m sure the ample attention one of my Belles heaped on you led to a speedy recovery.” Too late, dammit!

“Tammy brought me a raw steak for my eye.”

“With a healthy side order of cleavage and fawning.”

His gaze dropped from her face to her chest. Racy knew the flimsy cotton tank top was no match against the purple satin push-up bra filled with her own generous assets. She tightened her arms beneath her breasts and took a deep breath.

A single tic danced over his jaw. Served him right.

His gaze moved higher and lingered on her neck. She had to fight to keep her hand from going to her throat. The love bite he’d left above her collarbone was long gone. It had taken almost three weeks for the mark to disappear, but the memory of how she’d gotten it, and who’d given it to her, remained powerfully strong.