Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1) (14 page)

They passed a couple of side streets, more vintage houses that had been turned into shops, even, incredibly, a public library.  They finally approached what looked more like a business district with two- and three-story brick buildings on both sides of the street, which, for the next few blocks at any rate, became at least five lanes wide. Down the center of the space was a wide, grassy median with Victorian style wrought iron lamp posts, beds of colorful flowers, and a charming gazebo.  Crepe myrtle trees in shades of pink, fuchsia, lavender, and white flanked the brick sidewalk that meandered through the entire median.  The junction of every crosswalk was marked by terra cotta planters spilling flowers around the bases of the tall, stately juniper trees that rose above them.  Enormous hanging baskets filled with even more flowers hung from the lamp posts.  Parking spaces angled in toward the median on both sides of the street, leaving only one lane for traffic on either side.  The sidewalks in front of the store fronts were also wide, with planters and trees and mulched beds full of begonias and tall snapdragons arranged in rows like a rainbow.

“Wow,” Leah breathed in awe.  “A bunch of hardened, alpha male, bad-ass commando types designed
this
?”

Clay laughed.  “No, we hired a landscape architect to design the entire town around the houses we restored.  Since most of them were Victorian or Queen Anne style, we decided we wanted kind of a ‘Gay Nineties’ vibe.”

“Well, that’s exactly what you got.  It’s perfect.”  She paused, not wanting to appear nosy, then decided
what the hell.
  “Soooo.  Did one of you rob a bank or something to be able to afford all of this?”

Clay laughed.  “We all have the same genius of a stockbroker, Adam Sinclair’s Uncle Joe.  He made us all filthy rich.  Adam’s my former XO—that’s Executive Officer to you civilian types.  He owns his own private security firm.  I work for him occasionally, when he needs an extra man.”

“Like now?”

“I’m not doing this for him.  I’m doing it for you.”  He angled the BMW into a parking space, turned off the engine and turned in his seat to face her.  “Actually, that’s not true either.  I’m doing this for us.  Because I’ve already lost you once and the thought of losing you again just rips me apart inside.”

Leah just stared at him, unable to swallow, unable to speak through the tightness in her throat.  She turned her head to look out the window, studying downtown Passion Lake while she struggled to deal with the implications of his words.

Katie’s Barbecue was on the right in between a jewelry store and the Passion Lake Pharmacy.  Across the street was the Cakes R Us Bakery and Coffee Shop, a leather goods store, a store featuring hand-carved, wooden objets d’art, and, at the end of the building, a large tack and feed store.  The business area continued for several more blocks and featured more shops and restaurants.  A few storefronts on both sides of the street were still empty.

“You ready?” Clay asked at last.

“Yeah.”

He patted the top of her thigh, then got out and came around to open her door.

As she slid out of the car and stood before him, he bent his head to give her a quick kiss on the lips.  “Let’s go eat.”

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand.  The minute they opened door, the mouthwatering aroma of meat slowly roasting over some kind of fragrant fruitwood filled the air and Leah took a deep, appreciative sniff.  “Oh, my,” she murmured, “that smells so good and I’m starving.”

The interior of the restaurant was charmingly rustic, with both tables and booths, most of them occupied.  As Clay and Leah slid into a red leather booth, a dark-haired, dark-eyed waitress clad in jeans and a red and white checkered shirt approached with their set-ups and menus.  “Hi, Clay.  Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Busy.”

She just chuckled.  “Good thing you’re not as stingy with your tips as you are with your words,” she said with a shake of her head.  She turned a curious eye toward Leah.  “Who’s your friend?”

Leah could see that, in spite of trying to cling to a much younger image through the use of hair dye and heavy make-up, the woman was probably in her forties, maybe even early fifties and had a hard edge about her.

“Katie, this is Leah Stanhope.  Leah, this is Katie O’Halloran.  She owns the restaurant with her partner, Connie Booth.”

The two women exchanged greetings, then Katie placed their menus in front of them, recited the specials, and left to fill their drink orders and give them a few minutes to decide what they wanted.

“I don’t know what you’re hungry for,” Clay said, pushing the menu to the side without even looking at it, “but I can highly recommend everything here.  Even the vegetarian specials are delicious—as long as you order a couple slabs of ribs or a big, juicy steak to go with them.”

Leah laughed.  “You sold me.  I’ll try the ribs.”

“Good choice.”

Katie brought their iced teas.  Grabbing the pen she’d stuck behind her ear, she took her order pad out of her apron pocket.  “What’ll you have, folks?” she asked with a bright smile.

“We’ll have the all-you-can-eat baby back ribs,” Clay said, “with fries and corn bread, and the salad bar”

Katie parked her pen back behind her ear.  “Y’all can go on up to the salad bar any time,” she said, gathering the menus.  “You want me to wait around ten minutes before turning this in?  That’ll give you time to eat your salads.”

“Sure,” Clay said, sliding out of his side of the booth and holding his hand out to assist Leah out of hers.

While they were eating their salads, Leah glanced up to see a man in a khaki uniform enter the restaurant and come to a stop.  He took off his aviators, hooked an earpiece over his shirt pocket, and looked over the crowd, briefly resting his gaze on the back of Clay’s head before moving it and settling it on her.  He started toward them, and Leah’s forkful of lettuce stopped in mid-air, halfway to her mouth. “I think that red light you ran two years ago is about to catch up with you,” she murmured, unable to keep her eyes off the man as he approached their table. 
Well, really, what red-blooded, American woman
could
take her eyes off of him?  Black hair, broad shoulder, narrow hips, a swagger for a walk?  He’s gorgeous!  I mean, mouth-watering, drop-dead, drool-worthy gorgeous!  Hollywood gorgeous.

“Raven,” he said.

“Sheriff,” Clay responded without looking up.

Not bothering to wait for an invitation, he slid onto the bench seat next to Clay, scooting him over with his hips, and held out his hand across the table toward Leah, who lifted hers automatically to be swallowed up in his.  “Caleb Rafferty,” he said in a deep, baritone voice with a smile that was made magical by the unexpected appearance of two dimples on either side of his beautiful mouth.  “And you must be Leah.”

Startled, she turned her gaze to Clay, only to see that he was smiling, too, watching her reaction.  Firming her grip, she squared her shoulders and replied, “Very well, if I absolutely must.  Everybody’s gotta be somebody, I guess.”

Caleb laughed, a move that revealed even, white teeth and crinkled the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.  “You’d better watch yourself, Raven,” he said, still looking at Leah, “she looks like she could be a handful.”

Oh, I hope so. 
At the look on Leah’s face, Clay chuckled.  “Caleb’s the sheriff of Passion Lake,” he explained.  “I sent him a photo of your ex so he and his brothers can be on the lookout for him.”

“My brother Simon runs a private charter business and a helicopter sight-seein’ business out at the Passion Lake airfield,” Caleb explained, finally releasing Leah’s hand.  “And my brother Ash is a professional photographer.  Don’t worry, Leah, we won’t let him get to you.”

Wow. 
She turned to Clay.  “Did you tell
everyone
?” she demanded.

He shrugged.  “Only two newspapers and the local talk radio guy.”

“Don’t worry, Leah,” Caleb laughed again.  “The only people who know are people who matter.  If your ex somehow manages to find out where you are, and that’s a huge if, by the way, he’s not gonna be able to sneak up on you.  We’ll know the instant he steps foot inside this town and we’ll shadow his every move.”

“You don’t know how resourceful he is.”

“Not nearly as resourceful as a bunch of former SEALs,” Caleb assured her with a grin.  He slid out of the booth.  “Pleasure meetin’ you, Leah, I’ll see you around.  But right now I’m leavin’ so you can devote your full attention to Katie’s phenomenal barbecue.”  He winked.  “You’ll thank me for it later.  Enjoy.”  He clapped Clay on the shoulder.  “Raven.”

“Hollywood,” Clay replied to his retreating back just as Katie approached carrying a tray with two heaping platters full of food.  Leah smirked. 
Hollywood.  Certainly appropriate.  Nice to know I wasn’t overreacting.

For the next half hour conversation was pretty much limited to moans and groans of appreciation as Leah and Clay tackled the mountain of ribs.  Finally, unable to eat another bite, she tossed her last bone onto the growing pile and sank back against the padded back of the booth, closing her eyes and placing her hand over her belly.  “Oh, my God, I’ve never eaten so much in my entire life.  I’m never going to move again.  You’re going to have to roll me out of here on a gurney.”

“They keep a couple in the back for just such occasions,” Clay assured her around the mouthful of succulent pork he was busy gnawing off a bone.

“Seriously.  I can’t move.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll carry you.”

“I just ate my weight in ribs.  You’d need a crane to lift me.”

He smirked.  “Oh, ye of little faith.  Besides,” he gave her a leering wink, “I have the perfect exercise for getting rid of any unsightly bulges you may have acquired.  Not that I see any,” he hastened to assure her.  “Obviously, I would have to perform a much more in-depth, thorough inspection before I could state with any authority whether you have them or not.  But don’t worry.  I have a fully-equipped inspection facility at home, where we can put this question to rest once and for all.  Although,” he added straight-faced, “I reserve the right to conduct further inspections as I feel they are warranted.”

“Oh?” Leah’s eyebrows hiked upward, giving her a haughty expression as she played along.  “And just how often, pray, do you feel such inspections might be warranted?”

“Hard to say.  Although, in the beginning, perhaps as many as two, possibly even three times a day.  Maybe more.”

Leah just laughed.  “Then you’d better finish up the rest of those ribs, cowboy.  You’re going to need to build up your stamina.”

Katie returned with a pitcher of iced tea to refill their glasses, but Leah shook her head.  Clay drained the rest of the tea out of his glass and held it out for a refill.  “Katie, can you pack up some pulled pork with baked beans and mac and cheese for me to take to the boys?”

“Sure thing, Clay.  I’ll have it up at the register.  Enough for twelve?”

“Yeah.  And throw some fries and cornbread in with that, too.”

“You have twelve ranch hands?” Leah asked, impressed.

“Naw, five.  They just eat like twelve.”  He grinned and she found herself just grinning back.  She liked this man more with every passing second, and that was the problem.  She couldn’t afford to like him.  She had a life back in San Francisco, a career she loved.  She couldn’t hide here forever, waiting for Richard to make his move.  She had no business getting into any emotional entanglements, especially not with a horse rancher who lived in the middle of Nowhere, Virginia.  Not even if that horse rancher was the sexiest thing on two legs.

But even as she made the argument, she knew it was too late.  She more than liked Clay “Raven” Nighthorse.  She was very close to being in love with him and the thought scared her to death.  If he were ever to reject her, she didn’t think she’d survive the devastation to her heart.  She looked up to find him watching her over the rim of his iced tea glass, his expression as solemn as the sudden turn of her thoughts.

“Where did you just go?” 
Nowhere good, from the looks of it.

She just smiled and shook her head with a shrug of one shoulder.

He set his empty glass down with a thunk.  “Ready to leave?”

“Yes.”  She slid out of the booth before he could offer his hand, walking ahead of him and hovering near the door while he paid and picked up the humongous box containing his take-out order.  He beeped the locks and she got in while he put the food on the back seat.  Then he slid into the driver’s seat, started the car and backed out into the street.  “I’ve decided not to stop for groceries.” he said as he drove past the gas station and mini-mart.  “The food’ll get too cold.  We’ll make a list when we get home and I’ll send one of the boys over to Marshall’s Creek to a real grocery store.  They’ll probably have a fist fight to determine who gets to drive this car.”  His smile faded.  “Where did you go?” he asked again.

“What?  When?”

“Just now.  You disappeared.  And judging from the look on your face, you didn’t like where you found yourself.”

“I was just thinking…about Richard,” she hedged.  “What happens if he never comes here looking for me?  I mean, I can’t stay here forever.”

“You could,” Clay suggested.  “I think the town of Passion Lake could support an art gallery or a boutique featuring your exquisite, one-of-a-kind clothing designs.  And when you factor in internet sales, you would have a thriving business.”