Unmasking The Maverick. Teresa Southwick
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who is the extra plate for, then?” Fallon asked.
“We have a guest staying in one of the cabins. Brendan Tanner,” Eva explained. “He fixed our dryer and some other things here at Sunshine Farm. Luke invited him to dinner.”
Just hearing his name made Fiona’s stomach feel funny. Nervous and excited. In a “crushing on him” kind of way. It was time to shut down this topic. “He said he couldn’t make it.”
“I’m hoping he’ll change his mind,” Luke said. “The man saved us the cost of a new clothes dryer. The least we can do is feed him dinner.” As if on cue, a knock on the front door interrupted him. “Come in.”
A moment later Brendan Tanner walked inside and stopped cold when he saw everyone looking at him. “You didn’t say the fifth infantry, third battalion would be here.”
Funny, Fiona thought. She’d been thinking an army was coming, too, when she’d seen how many places were set at the table.
“Always room for one more.” Luke waved him closer. “Sit there next to Fiona. Glad you changed your mind. We’re ready for you.”
Good for them, Fiona thought. She wasn’t ready for this at all. And if the look on Tanner’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t, either. But there was something in his green eyes when he looked at her, an intensity that made them glow. Heat pooled low in her belly and her hands started to shake when he walked over and sat down. She’d give him this—the man had courage.
And he showered, she thought. His damp, freshly combed hair was a clue, as was the fresh scent of soap that clung to his skin. He’d changed his clothes, too. The plaid snap-front shirt tucked into jeans highlighted his narrow hips and broad shoulders. Eye candy for sure.
And she’d been staring. Oh, boy, say something brilliant. She cleared her throat. “So, Brendan, what made you change your mind?”
“Macaroni and cheese.”
“The one I made?” She was feeling a little tingly and flattered.
“Is there another one?”
“I don’t think so.”
He shrugged one of those broad shoulders. “It’s one of my favorites. Box or scratch, count me in.”
“I see.” Her tingly feeling went up in smoke. “So any bozo could throw ingredients together and you’d be first in line.”
“I—That’s not exactly what I meant—”
She grinned. “Just kidding. But seriously. If the dish I made for this dinner doesn’t bring tears to your eyes then something is very wrong with your taste buds.”
He smiled, and the power of the look enveloped her in a sort of golden haze. It was a little like floating close to the sun all by herself. Bright and quiet—
She suddenly realized how quiet this room was in spite of the large group around the table. They were all staring at her and Tanner. She’d once been the center of attention at a social gathering, and the horrible memory had humiliation pouring through her now as it had then. That time it was about a man, too.
She felt as if she was living out a comedy sketch. In a noisy room when you said something embarrassing at the same moment everyone went silent and heard you. This was like that. Even the triplets, who could usually be counted on for sounds in a pitch only dogs could hear, were mirroring the adults around them and staring.
You could cut the awkwardness with a butter knife. Poor Mr. Tanner looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. She had to do something.
“I’m starving. Let’s get the food going.” Fiona started to grab her macaroni casserole, but it was as big as the state of Rhode Island. Instantly Brendan reached out and lifted it for her. She put some on her plate and his. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
As if a switch had been flipped, everyone was taking food and passing platters around. Attention had been successfully diverted away from them.
Her relief was a little premature because when everyone had filled their plates it got quiet again. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. “So, Brendan, where did you learn to fix things?”
He finished chewing and swallowed before answering. “My dad taught me.”
“He must be very proud of you,” Fiona said.
“He was. He passed away not too long ago.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were automatic and felt so inadequate when a sort of sad, haunted look slipped into his eyes.
“Thanks.”
“I haven’t seen anything that Brendan can’t repair,” Luke said. “Your dad must have been a good teacher, and the skill he gave you is invaluable.”
Brendan looked thoughtful. “Funny you should say that. We didn’t have much, but dad’s knack for patching up what people threw out or paid him to fix put food on the table.”
“An honest living,” one of the men said.
“I suppose.” He looked down at the full plate of food in front of him. “Necessity was the mother I didn’t have.”
It was like a curiosity bomb went off in Fiona’s head. Follow-up questions exploded in her mind. But one of the triplets—Jared—made a bomb of his own and Fallon excused herself to change him.
The moment for interrogation passed when Hudson started talking to Brendan about horses. In Rust Creek Falls, that was like guys discussing cars anywhere else. It turned out that Brendan had worked on ranches in Texas for extra money. Was there anything he couldn’t do?
That wasn’t something she was going to ask. The less she knew about Brendan Tanner the better. She would bet he had a sad story, one that would engage her emotions. But he was a stranger and by his own admission was only in town temporarily. Matchmakers could throw them together until hell wouldn’t have it but they couldn’t make her play along.
Not again.
Last night’s dinner ranked up there as one of the best meals Brendan ever had. He’d eaten enough to feed a whole platoon. The Stocktons were friendly and caring folks who opened their farm to a stranger looking for a fresh start and they kept on giving. He was grateful for that. If not for Fiona O’Reilly, he could check off every box of a perfect evening.
It was bad enough that she made the best macaroni and cheese he’d ever tasted, but she was also the sexiest mac-and-cheese maker he’d ever met. Her eyes were beautiful. That curvy body had him itching to touch her. And her smile promised heaven at the same time it sent him to hell. All night.
When he hadn’t tossed and turned from thinking about her, he’d been dreaming about having her in his bed. She was whip smart and wickedly funny, which was an irresistible combination. It meant danger up ahead, but only if he chose to go down that road. All he had to do was take a detour and avoid her.
That took care of his conscious mind. With luck the warning would filter down to his subconscious and keep her out of his dreams. He was a tumbleweed and she had deep roots here in Montana. Smart money was on sticking to his plan: get back in shape and reenlist in the Marine Corps where he belonged.
After an early morning run and workout, he went to the barn. Sunshine Farm made no demands on its guests but Brendan hated feeling useless and had gotten in the habit of helping feed the stock every morning. Today was no exception. He walked into the stable and grabbed a pitchfork to help spread hay for the horses.
Luke walked over and jammed his own long-handled tool into the bale. “Morning.”
“Back