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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

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BOOK: Playing With You
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“No trouble at all.” Ricki preferred baking over cooking, but she was still a pretty good cook.

They chatted as Ricki baked apricot glazed chicken, along with garlic mashed potatoes, sautéed spinach, and steamed asparagus. Deena helped by making a small salad with mixed greens.

Having company helped keep Ricki’s mind in a better place than it went when she was alone and her depression weighed her down. When she was alone, her loneliness and insecurities seemed to attack her all at once.

“Do you have family in Tucson?” Ricki asked as she took dishes out of a cabinet and placed them on the table.

Deena set the pan of baked chicken on a hot pad. “All of my family is out of state, mostly in Texas.” She seemed in a hurry to change the subject as she asked Ricki, “What about yours?”

“All in the Phoenix area.” Ricki tucked her hair behind her ear as they finished setting the table and transferred the rest of the food, too. “I’m the only one who took off. I left after my divorce was final to start over.”

“We have something else in common,” Deena said. “I’m here to start over, too.”

“We do have a lot in common.” Ricki watched Xena go to a corner where one of her beds was. She settled down and put her head on her paws. Still, she tracked Deena’s every move.

Deena took a seat at the table then poured them each another glass of wine. “You needed to get away, I take it.”

“In the worst way.” Ricki sighed as she sat, too. She picked up her wine glass. “Great idea on the wine.”

Deena was already putting hers to her full lips and she smiled. She took a sip before lowering her glass again. “I’m known to have a few good ideas here or there.”

Ricki found Deena to be a pleasant dinner companion. Ricki stopped herself at two glasses of wine because she’d be driving Deena back to the hotel later, but Deena had already had three glasses so far.

“Someday we’ll have to have a girls’ night in where neither of us has to drive.” Deena downed her last glass.

When Deena was on her fourth glass of wine, Ricki asked, “Have you ever been married?”

Deena shrugged. “Once. I was married to a real bastard who abused me.”

Maybe it was the wine, but Ricki found her own words slipping out before she could pull them back. “My ex-husband did the same to me.” She stared at her wine glass for a moment as she moved her fingers up and down the stem.

After a moment Ricki continued, “He was cruel, too. No one saw that side of him but me. When we were around others, he appeared attentive and acted so loving toward me. Outwardly he was intelligent, fun, and charming to others.” Ricki shook her head. “That façade dropped the moment we walked into our home. Sometimes he’d get so violent that I thought he was going to hit me, but he never did.”

Tension made Ricki’s body ache as she had a moment of panic and anxiety as she remembered how it felt to be in that marriage and have no one believe her.

“I bet no one could understand why you wanted a divorce.” Deena scowled and clenched her fist on the tabletop. “My ex-husband, Bart, was like that, too. Sonofabitch.”

“My family still doesn’t understand.” Ricki sighed. “They liked him and still do.”

Deena shook her head. “Sometimes family can hurt you the worst.”

Ricki felt a strong kinship between Deena and herself. They had more than one thing in common and it all seemed to form a bond between them as they spent time together.

Deena put her hand to her forehead. “I think I’ve had enough wine.”

“Goodness, it’s getting late.” Ricki glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to get in early to start baking. I’d better take you to your hotel.”

Deena looked a little reluctant to leave. She was probably lonely staying in a hotel in a town she wasn’t familiar with and no one with whom to spend time. She glanced at Xena then looked back at Ricki.

“You’re right.” Deena pushed her chair back, stood, and swayed. She gripped the edge of the table “I’d better be heading back and get to bed soon because I want to wake up early in the morning.” She smiled at Ricki. “I plan to drive to the neighborhoods you showed me so that I can take another look at them. I’m also going to call the rental agencies for the houses we looked at in your neighborhood and a couple of others that I wrote down earlier.”

“I have a map you can use to look at other neighborhoods that we didn’t hit.” Ricki went to a catch-all kitchen drawer, where she kept flyers, take-out menus, miscellaneous catalogs, and a couple of maps. She selected a pencil from a cup filled with pens and pencils then carried the map back to the table. She circled a couple of neighborhoods that she thought Deena might be interested in and gave the map to Deena.

“I should help you clean up from dinner,” Deena said.

“Don’t worry about that tonight.” Ricki shook her head. “I’ll take care of it after I drop you off and you’re tucked in.”

Deena had a sultry expression on her face as she said, “I could use someone to tuck me in.”

Ricki smiled. “You may just find your dream man in this town.”

“Men are worthless.” Deena snorted. “Finding a good one is as impossible as locating a needle in a haystack the size of Mt. Everest.”

Thoughts of Garrett came to Ricki’s mind. Her heart told her he was a good man, someone she could trust to tell her the truth and to treat her right.

She mentally shook her head. They’d had one date and already she was thinking about having a relationship with the man. Even though she tried to push the images aside, she could imagine spending time with him and getting to know him better. A lot better.

“Ricki?” Deena’s voice captured Ricki’s attention and she looked at the woman who was frowning. “You zoned out on me. Everything all right?”

“Sorry.” Ricki smiled and picked her keys and purse. “I guess I’m just a little tired. Time to get you back to your hotel.”

Deena’s smile looked forced. “All right. Let’s go.”

 

Chapter 8

 

Garrett had his phone on speaker as he drove his truck into Prescott from his ranch Wednesday morning.

“Thank you so very much, Mr. McBride.” Jan Tunstall sounded much happier than she had when she’d hired him for the job. She’d been devastated by what her ex had done. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have my heirloom jewelry back, more than anything else. It has all been handed down for generations and it means a lot. You are an exceptional man.”

Garrett steered his truck into town. “I was just doing my job, ma’am.”

“From the moment I hired you,” Jan said, “I knew you were the right man to get my jewelry and my share of the money back. Go ahead and run my credit card for the balance I owe.”

“I’ll get an invoice to you.” He turned down Gurley Street. “Once you take a look at it, you can pay.”

“Whatever works.” Jan had a smile in her voice. “Thank you again, Mr. McBride.”

When she disconnected the call, Garrett found himself parked in front of Sweet Things. He frowned. He’d had no intention of going to the bakery, yet here he was.

He looked in through the big plate glass window with “Sweet Things” painted in a curve from one side of the glass to the other with “bakery” beneath that. Near the door, in the lower left hand side of the window, the bakery’s address, phone number, and hours were also painted, but in small letters.

For a long moment, he sat in his truck and watched Ricki through the window. She was so pretty as she polished the glass cases until they shone. She looked happy as she worked, a smile on her lovely face. She wore jeans and a white blouse beneath a bright pink apron. She moved so that her back was to him and he got a great look at her backside. Damn, but she had a nice ass.

When he’d recovered Jan Tunstall’s jewelry, he’d compared it to the list he’d been given and everything had been there. When he’d picked up a beautiful antique heirloom wedding ring, he’d had a fleeting thought. He’d pictured a ring like that on Ricki—a ring that he’d just slipped on her finger. He dragged his hand down his face.
Damn.

What was he doing here? He should turn the truck around and head to his office now.

Instead, he killed the engine then climbed out of his truck and locked it before heading to the bakery. Warm smells of baked pastries flowed over him and bells on the glass door jangled as he pushed it open.

Ricki looked up and a surprised expression crossed her features as she smiled at him. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Hey.” He made his way toward her. “How’s business today?”

“Good.” She had a spray bottle of cleaner in one hand, a rag in the other. “Have a bit of a lull right now, but it’s nice to get a break on a busy day.”

He had the sudden powerful urge to take her by her shoulders, draw her up close to him, and kiss her senseless. He had to remind himself that it was a bad idea. A real bad idea.

“I thought you’d be gone all week,” she said.

He shook his head. “Finished the job early.”

She moved around the counter so that the cases were now separating them, as if she needed to put distance between them. That was probably a good idea.

“The usual?” She started to open the case with the scones.

He shook his head. “I’ll try something different.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What, no blueberry scone?”

“Thought I’d shake things up a bit.” He found himself smiling and she responded instantly with a smile of her own. He gestured toward a different case. “How about one of those éclairs? Are they as good as they look?”

“Even better, if I do say so myself.” She laughed. “Anything else today?”

Yeah, you.
She had to be the sweetest thing in the shop.

He shook his head to rattle the thought out and realized she thought he was shaking his head at her in answer to her question.

She took an éclair from the case with a piece of waxed paper, and slipped it into a bag. She folded the top and went to the register. “How about a cup of coffee? Fresh pot.”

He gave a nod. “You bet.”

After she filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee and put a lid on it, she set it on the counter next to the register and rang him up. She gave him the total and he handed her a bill large enough to cover the balance.

He took the bag and cup and glanced at the empty tables and chairs. He had the growing desire to stay and talk with her and found he didn’t want to leave. “I think I’ll eat this here.” He met her gaze then nodded toward a table. “If you’re not busy, would you like to take a load off your feet?”

Again she looked surprised. “All right. One moment while I get a cup of tea.”

He carried the bag and the coffee container to one of the small white tables and sat in a black chair with an ironwork back. A few moments later, Ricki carried a steaming mug to the table. A spoon handle was sticking out of the mug. She looked a little nervous as she seated herself across from him.

“You make a damned fine éclair,” he said after he swallowed a bite. “The only thing that comes close to anything you bake was my grandma’s chocolate chunk oatmeal cookie recipe. I can still remember what they tasted like, fresh out of the oven. Chewy and gooey.”

“It sounds good.” Ricki glanced at her cookie case. “That’s something I don’t bake here.”

“My grandma died some time ago.” Garrett felt an ache in his heart. “I miss her like hell. She always treated me like I was her favorite. She might have treated my brothers the same way but she always made me feel special.”

Ricki nodded. “I miss my grandma, too. She taught me a lot about baking.”

“Madge reminds me a lot of my grandma.” Garrett gave a wry smile. “They have the same feisty nature.”

Ricki laughed, a pretty sound that he liked. “Madge is feisty, that’s for sure. I hope I’m that dynamic when I’m her age.”

“She’s one woman you don’t want to get on the wrong side of,” Garrett said. “She called me to get my version of our date.”

“Oh?” Ricki sounded a little nervous.

Garrett held back a smile. Ricki looked so damned cute. “I told Madge that I couldn’t have asked for a better blind date.”

He liked watching how her cheeks turned a light pink. “I’m glad you think so,” she said.

“And you?” He couldn’t help asking.

“I enjoyed it.” She smiled. “A lot more than I thought I would.” As he took another bite of his éclair, Ricki changed the subject. “Do you go all over the state as a private investigator?”

He set down his éclair. “Most of my cases are in Coconino and Yavapai counties, but some go further out. I chase leads where they take me. If they’re too far out, I have other investigators in the business I work with.”

“So what kind of case were you on this week?” she asked as he took another bite of his éclair. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

He chewed and swallowed. “A woman’s soon-to-be-ex ran off with her jewelry and all of their money so she hired me. It was my job to make sure she got it back.”

When it came to helping a woman, he was more than determined to complete the job. He couldn’t stand to see a man walk all over a woman like his father had trampled on Garrett’s mother.

Ricki put both her hands around her mug as if warming them. “Being a private investigator must be rewarding.”

Garrett thought about it a moment. The relief in Jan Tunstall’s voice had given him a good feeling but that wasn’t always the case. “Sometimes.”

Ricki tilted her head to the side. “Why just sometimes?”

“My job deals with a lot of negativity,” he said. “My cases involve theft, missing persons, cheating spouses, unsolved crimes, criminal background checks, among other things.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “Don’t you feel good about a case when it’s finished?”

“Having to tell a client that his or her spouse is cheating is not what you’d call rewarding.” He shook his head. “Finding that a missing person is dead or has been murdered is probably the worst.”

“Oh.” Ricki frowned. “I didn’t think about that. Your job sounds similar to what mine was as a paralegal. You often see the worst of humanity.”

“Yep.” He took another bite of éclair.

“I imagine being a PI must be stressful,” she said.

He swallowed his bite, then chased it down with coffee before answering her. “It’s a job and something I’ve been good at since I was a kid.”

BOOK: Playing With You
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ads

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