A Maverick's Christmas Homecoming. Teresa Southwick
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had tonight and headed in that direction, then recognized Miranda. She was a beautiful brunette and asking her out had crossed his mind while he’d been in New York. Now she seemed ordinary compared to a certain redhead he wished he’d met while they’d both been there.
He stopped at the table. “Miranda, it’s good to see you again.”
“Shane.” She smiled. “You remember me.”
He didn’t feel especially charming, but it was said that trait was what had won the reality cooking show and launched his career. He dug deep for it now.
“Of course I remember.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “A woman like you is unforgettable.”
“Then maybe it was my phone number you forgot. You never called me.” Her eyes both teased and chastised.
“Believe me when I say that you’re better off.” It was easy to look sincere when telling the truth. “And there was no one else.”
“Contrary to what the tabloids said.”
“Because, of course, we all know that every word the rag sheets print is the honest truth.” He grinned to take any sting out of that statement. “Truly, I had no personal life. It was all about opening Roarke’s and keeping it open. I was practically working around the clock.”
The blonde at the table cleared her throat, demanding her share of attention. “Hello, Mr. Roarke. I’m Daisy Tucker.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tucker.”
“Daisy. And the pleasure is all mine.”
He didn’t miss the flirty expression, the seductive tone, and there was a time when he’d have flirted back. Partly to fuel his reputation and get his name in the paper. Although he’d just mocked the tabloids, any marketing expert would tell you that even bad publicity is good, anything that gets your name out there. He was no expert, but knew the information that his biological father was a criminal would take bad publicity to a different, not good level.
“Shane,” Miranda said, “after opening restaurants in so many big cities here in the States, I expected you to conquer London, Paris and Rome. It was really a surprise to find you were the executive chef here in off-the-beaten-path Montana.”
“I had my reasons.”
“But Thunder Canyon? What’s the appeal?”
He spotted Gianna’s bright hair across the room, just as she was coming out of the kitchen and a knot of need tightened in his belly. She wasn’t the reason he’d taken the job but just being able to watch her was definitely appealing. The not-touching mandate was his cross to bear.
“That’s difficult to put into words.” He looked from one beautiful face to the other. “I simply fell in love with Thunder Canyon.”
“In that case,” Miranda said, “maybe you could suggest some places to visit while we’re here.”
It was a hint for him to show them around and not a very subtle one. Even if he had the time, he wasn’t interested. “It was actually love at first sight with Thunder Canyon. I haven’t been here that long and haven’t had time to explore much.”
“Then maybe old friends from out of town is a good excuse to see the local highlights.”
“As tempting as that would be, my schedule is really tight. I’ve got parties every weekend and several during the week until Christmas.” It wouldn’t be politically correct to tell her he wasn’t interested. “You’re better off checking with the concierge at your hotel.”
“I’m very disappointed,” she said.
“Me, too. You know what they say. This is the most wonderful time of the year.”
“Ho, ho, ho.” Miranda pretended to pout.
“It was wonderful to see you. Happy holidays.” He kissed each woman on the cheek. “Duty calls.”
He turned away and scanned the room, something he did frequently. It was a chance to make sure service was impeccable, that people were relaxed and happy. How he’d love to get a helping of happy for himself. Speaking of relaxed … He spotted a romantic booth for two and recognized the romantic couple occupying it.
Angie Anderson and Forrest Traub radiated love like a convection oven. That spontaneous thought begged the question: Where in the world had this recent poetic streak come from and when would he shake it?
He headed in their direction and when the two of them stopped gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment, they spotted him. After weaving his way through the tables, he slid into the booth against the wall on the seat across from them. The other side had plenty of room for several more members of a platoon since Angie sat so close to Forrest, there was no space between them.
“Hi,” he said to them.
“Merry Christmas.” Angie was a college student and a volunteer at the town’s teen hangout called ROOTS. In her early twenties, her shiny brown hair and dark eyes made her look like a teenager herself. “How are you, Shane?”
“Okay. What’s up with you guys?”
“I’m counting the days until classes are over and it’s vacation.”
“Even with studying for finals she finds time to help the kids out with the holiday letters for soldiers.” Forrest put his hand on hers, resting on his forearm. His hair was still military short and he had the muscular fitness and bearing of a soldier, even with the limp from a wound he’d sustained while deployed overseas.
“It makes me feel good to volunteer. What goes around comes around and I want this Christmas to be perfect for everyone,” she said. “It’s our first together.”
“It’s already perfect for me. Santa came early this year. I’ve already got everything I want.” The depth of his feelings for this woman was right there in Forrest’s eyes.
“Me, too.” Angie leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment.
Shane felt like an intruder at the same time he envied them. People Magazine’s most eligible bachelor chef had never felt quite so alone before and he was sure that information would surprise the inquiring minds that wanted to know. It wasn’t so much about this young couple as it was wanting to touch Gianna and not being able to. Denying himself the pleasure of kissing her under the stars seemed more than stupid when he looked at these two.
“Actually, Shane, I’m really glad they let you out of the kitchen tonight.”
“It happens every once in a while.” He grinned at them.
“We were hoping to see you,” she said.
“Planning to hit me up to cater your wedding reception?” he teased.
“Maybe.” Forrest laughed. “Seriously, we wanted to thank you again for all your hard work cooking such a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner for military families. Every single person said the only thing better would have been to have their son or daughter, father or mother home.”
“He’s right, Shane.” Angie glanced at the man she loved, then back. “We can’t thank you enough for what you did. You’re the best.”
“Not really.”
He knew it was meant as a compliment but he wondered whether or not they’d feel the same if the truth came out that he was the son of Thunder Canyon’s very own crook. He’d hurt Gianna tonight by brushing her off. If she knew the truth about him, she’d probably feel as if she’d dodged a bullet. Except for a strategically placed R, crook and cook were the same.
The burden of his father’s identity still weighed heavily on him. For now it was his secret and keeping it to himself was the only way to control the flow of information. That meant not getting close to anyone.
Or kissing anyone. Immediately he thought