Colton's Surprise Family. Karen Whiddon
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me baiting the hook and casting for you. Now all you’ve got to do is reel him in.”
Reel him in. Had they been mysteriously teleported back to the fifties when she hadn’t been looking? Deciding to ignore the phrase, as she always did when Bonnie Gene started on this subject, Eve stared at the teakettle, willing it to whistle. A good cup of tea went far to sooth frazzled nerves.
Taking her silence for assent, Bonnie Gene came closer. “What are you going to wear? If you’d like, I could pick out your outfit.”
“Oh, for—” Biting off the words, Eve forced a smile. “Mom, don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”
Six hours later, standing in front of the mirror, Eve wondered why she’d agreed to this. She couldn’t help but wonder if Gary Jackson wondered the same thing. If he was such a “catch,” as her mother put it, she doubted he needed to be set up on a blind date.
But, heavens knows, Bonnie Gene Kelley could be pretty persistent when she wanted to be.
For her dinner date, Eve had chosen a thick sweaterdress with a cowl neckline in flattering shades of brown, cream and gold. Brown leggings and soft suede knee-length boots completed her outfit. She brushed her shoulder-length blond hair until it shone, swiped a tube of lip gloss over her lips, and told herself she was ready.
In fact, she’d rather be doing almost anything else. Even pooper-scooping Max’s poo seemed preferable to yet another blind date set up by her own mother. How pathetic was that?
Still, she reminded herself, slipping on her parka and snagging her purse and car keys on her way out, none of this was Gary Jackson’s fault. He could be a nice guy. She should give him a chance.
Thirty minutes later, covertly checking her watch, she knew she’d been wrong. From the instant she’d walked into the Corner Bar and taken a seat in the booth across from him, Gary Jackson had talked nonstop. About his law practice, what kind of car he drove, what stocks he’d invested in, where he lived and what kind of furniture graced his abode, blah, blah, blah. Every single time she thought he might be winding down, he’d start on another tangent. About himself, of course.
No wonder the guy couldn’t find a date. She’d be willing to bet he’d jumped on the chance when her mother had offered her as the sacrificial lamb.
Poker-faced, she sipped her soft drink and tried to keep from yawning. Even on a weekend date, the man wore a button-up shirt and tie, along with a wool sport jacket and slacks.
“Anyway, when they asked me to help out with the Mark Walsh investigation…”
Finally, something interesting. “You’re helping out with that? How? You’re a lawyer, not a criminal investigator.”
She’d barely got the words out before Gary was off and running. Not about the Mark Walsh case, which she might have been interested in hearing, instead, he rambled on about how anyone, even the lowliest criminal, needed an attorney and how lucky the people of backwater Honey Creek, Montana, were to have him. Because he was the best, the brightest, the most like a shark, etc.
While she sat, steaming and wishing she could drink alcohol. Since she couldn’t, she practiced scathing remarks she’d like to say but couldn’t.
Finally, she’d had enough. “Excuse me,” she tried to interrupt. Either Gary had gone hard of hearing or was so involved in what he was saying that she had to repeat herself three times. In the end, she simply got to her feet, waved her hand at him, and headed toward the restroom. She could have sworn he continued talking to the air after she’d left.
This was a disaster. If it weren’t that her mother would find out, she’d sneak out the back and leave him talking to himself.
The hallway to the restrooms was long and blessedly deserted. She took her time, aware that every second away from Gary was a second of peace and quiet. Finally she had no choice but to make her way back.
“Eve?” a deep familiar voice called her name.
Looking up, her heart skipped a beat. Her body, numbed by Gary’s endless rambling, came gloriously, fully awake and alive. “Damien.” She tried to sound casual. “What are you doing here?”
“Hoping to run into you,” he answered, making her blush. “And here you are.” He sounded so pleased, she had to smile. “Do you want to join me for a drink and a snack? Just to talk.”
Talk about tempting. She had a brilliant idea. “I can’t join you, because I’m here with someone.” Quickly she told him about her mother’s scheme and Gary Jackson. “I want out of this, but I can’t get him to shut up long enough to tell him so. Please, join us for dinner. Maybe then he’ll get the hint.”
Expression serious, he studied her face. “This is the second time I’ve helped you out, you know. After this, you’ll owe me a date, just the two of us.”
“Done.” She’d have agreed to almost anything to end the torture of Gary, but a date with Damien seemed more like a reward than a payment of a debt. “So that means you’ll help me out? I hate to ask, but…”
His smile took her breath away. “Sure, I will. But first, come here.”
Pulse kicking back up, she didn’t move. “No.”
“Chicken.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But I need to know what you mean.”
“A simple kiss. That’s all I want.”
“Here?”
He glanced around. “Sure, why not? We’re in a dark hallway and unless someone comes down this way, no one will see.”
Temptation. She realized suddenly that there was nothing she wanted more than to kiss him. But not the kind of kiss she could do here, standing in a hallway in the Corner Bar.
“My kiss,” he reminded her. “Yes or no? Your call.”
Moving closer, but standing far enough back that no part of their bodies touched, she leaned in, intent on making this a quick, touch-her-lips-to-his, peck-type kiss.
Instead, he yanked her up to him. “Real kiss,” he growled. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our last one. Now lay it on me.”
At first she couldn’t move. Paralyzed by indecision and the knowledge that the blind date from hell waited in the other room, she let panic immobilize her. For maybe all of three seconds.
Then she reached up and pulled him down to her. Slanting her mouth over his, she kissed him like they were alone in her bedroom, kissed him like she’d secretly been longing to do ever since she’d seen him, kissed him openmouthed and insistent and full of pent-up longing and desire.
When she finally raised her head, they were both breathing hard.
“There,” she said, trying for a light teasing tone. “Now will you join me for dinner?”
Eyes dark and glittering, he nodded.
“Come on then.” She took his arm. “Let me introduce you two. My date thinks he’s an expert on the Mark Walsh investigation, though for the life of me I don’t know what he has to do with it.”
From the sudden tension in Damien’s body, she judged she’d said the wrong thing. But there was no time to fix it since they’d almost reached the table.
Gary stood, appearing comically surprised that she’d already returned. Or, she surmised, watching his eyes widen as he saw Damien, shocked that she’d brought back an escort, especially one as big and muscular and male as Damien.
Speaking briskly, she made the introductions. “Gary Jackson, Damien Colton. Damien, Gary.”
The two men shook hands. Then Damien pulled out a chair and, instead of taking a seat, turned it around and straddled it. “Let me buy you both a drink. What are you drinking, Gary?”
“Scotch