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Authors: Cheryel Hutton

Tags: #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #small town

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BOOK: Secrets of Ugly Creek
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He looked at me for a moment, as if deciding whether to call the guys with the sleeves that tie in the back. I smiled at him. Good luck putting me in the batty bin.

Footsteps warned me of an approach, and I looked up to see who it was. Mac headed straight to Greg and held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Gibson McFain. It’s my documentary we’re filming here.”

Greg stood to shake hands. “I’m Greg Starling. I must say I was very impressed with your Senator Carson documentary.”

Gibson’s expression went dark. “Are you a journalist?”

“No,” Greg chuckled. “Actually, I consult for a national corporation.”

“How interesting. So, you know Madison.”

“We’re close.” The smile Greg shot at me dripped with possessiveness. I had an urge to slap him for it, but I managed a smile.

The hairs on my nape tickled, and I saw Mac studying me with narrowed eyes. He turned and walked away.

I will not admit to wanting to go after him.

“How about we get some lunch?”

I wasn’t hungry, but getting away from the taping site—and Gibson McFain—seemed like a good idea. Strange, Greg getting all twisted up and weird about me. In fact, just seeing him in Ugly Creek was bizarre.

“Who is that woman?” Greg whispered.

I looked where he indicated. “Kate Stone, Gibson’s assistant.”

“No, the other one.”

Okay, weird. “That’s Haven Reyes, the photographer from
Capitol Spy Weekly
. I wonder why she’s still here?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Hmm?” Oh, crap, I didn’t intend to let that bird out of the cage. “We have all the photos we need.” I glanced at Greg. He was holding his phone up, and for a second I thought I saw a picture of Haven on it.

“Sorry, my phone vibrated.” He turned away.

I must be seeing things. A glance to the side, and I saw Mac looking my way. I smiled his way, but he only frowned back. Why did his frown make me feel sad, and even a little guilty?”

Chapter 11

“I want to interview you for the documentary.” Mac smiled at me, and my heart beat harder.

I had hoped Greg would find something else to do after lunch, but he’d insisted on coming back to the courthouse lawn with me to watch the filming. Currently he was glaring at the man standing in front of me, and I felt the heat coming from both of them.

“Why would you want to interview me?”

Mac moved slightly closer. “Because you’re an Ugly Creek native and a successful journalist. Why wouldn’t I want to interview you?”

“It is pretty amazing, Maddie.” Greg smiled a little too wide. “You came from this tiny little nowhere place, and now you’re a reporter in DC. You’ve come a long way, babe.”

A cord of anger wrapped around me and tightened. I wanted to slap Greg, but I refused to do that here in public. I forced a little smile for him and turned back to Mac. “When do you want to do this interview?”

“I’ll get back to you on that,” he said, and turned to his work, sliding a glare over Greg as he moved.

“Maybe he can do that tomorrow, then we can cut out of here and go somewhere interesting.”

I stared at Greg, astounded at his dullness. “I’m working.”

“No you aren’t.” His gaze caught mine and held tight. “You’re on vacation, so I thought we could make it a real holiday. Maybe go to the Bahamas or something.”

“How do you know I’m not working?”

He shrugged. “I called your boss.”

My anger turned icy. “You
what
?”

“I was going to ask him if you could get some time off. He told me you were already on a break. So, I thought we could take advantage of it.” He took my hand in his. “I know you’d like to be in this little movie thing, but let’s blow this tiny spot on the map.”

“I want to stay here, Greg. That’s why I asked for time off. This is my hometown.”

“You can’t help that.”

I was shaking. “I told you, I love Ugly Creek.”

He blinked, as if he was beginning to get the idea. “Okay, then you think about the Bahamas, and let me know.”

He turned and walked away as I sent visual darts into his back. Apparently he wasn’t getting the idea. Maybe a two-by-four upside his head would open up a brain cell or two.

I pushed back my violent fantasy and turned to watch the interview of an older woman. She had a fascinating story to tell, and I quickly got caught up in her description of Ugly Creek during the Great Depression.

“We made all our clothes out of flour sacks,” the woman was saying.

Half my attention stayed on the amazing stories of survival without the necessities of life. I made a note of her name and made a note to talk to her later about an article.
Capitol Spy Weekly
wouldn’t be interested, but I might wring permission out of Mr. Grainger to submit it to another magazine.

The other half of my attention was firmly centered on two very different men. Greg was clueless, but he was just who I would have described if someone had asked me about the perfect man for me. And then there was Mac. Arrogant, bossy, didn’t care who he hurt to get to the top.

Or had I been wrong about him all along? Either way, I had no business thinking the thoughts I did about him. He wasn’t the kind of man I needed in my life. I needed stability, loyalty, caring, understanding.

Mac was looking at me, his gaze touching mine with a warmth I couldn’t fathom. Who was this person?

I felt a brush against my leg, and reached down for my favorite little furry pain in the rear. “What’s up Gizmo?”

“Doing some recon,” he said.

“Find out anything?”

“Just that Kate person is still trying to find a Bigfoot.”

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Nothing yet. It’s not time.”

Okay. Good to know. I scratched the fuzzy varmint’s head, and he lay happily on my lap while the filming finished up.

I put Gizmo on the ground and was getting my things ready to go when I heard footsteps. I looked up, and Mac was standing a foot from me. “I see your boyfriend took off.”

“Greg’s not my boyfriend.”

“He thinks he is.”

“I know.”

“Maybe you should set him straight.”

“Maybe I should.” Looking into Mac’s warm eyes, I couldn’t believe I’d put up with Greg for so long. Mac might be wrong for me, but what I was feeling at the moment seemed all too right.

“Have dinner with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Mac turned, and even though he hadn’t touched me, I sort of felt like he’d been holding me up, and I had to concentrate to regain my stability.

Smiling, I finished getting my things together, then scooped Gizmo up into my arms and headed toward home.

****

Just before seven, a knock had me flying down the stairs. I did the whole standing in front of the door and checking my clothes and patting my hair deal before I opened the thing. My huge smile wilted when I saw who held the flowers.

Greg held out the pretty, yellow, whatever-they-were flowers. “I came to apologize. This is your hometown, and I had no right to say bad things about it.”

Crap! “Greg, now is not a good time.”

By the time I’d finished the sentence, he was standing in Mom’s foyer. “Really, Maddie. Give me a chance to make it up to you. We can go up to Knoxville and eat at a real restaurant. I checked online, and they have a French restaurant that has four stars. I managed to snag us a reservation.”

He apologized. Maybe he wasn’t that bad, it was just the way he’d been raised. “Look, Greg. I appreciate your apology. I just—”

“Go get dressed and I’ll wait for you.”

Before I could try again to explain, there was a second knock. Oh boy!

I swung open the door, and Gibson McFain smiled back at me. “Hello,” I said, smiling in spite of the discomfort I felt.

“What are you doing here?” Greg asked.

Mac ignored the other man, keeping his gaze on me. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, then turned to Greg. “As I’ve been trying to tell you, I already have plans.”

Greg’s face abruptly turned purple. “You’re going out with
him
?”

“Excuse me, but it’s really none of your business who I go out with.”

Greg’s eyes widened and he stared at me as if I’d turned chartreuse. “But…but we’re seeing each other.”

I was once again questioning Greg’s ability to see past his own nose. “We’ve gone out a few times. I considered us friends, but that’s all.”

All at once, Greg pushed past me, making a point of elbowing Mac on his way out the door. I stood there, dumbfounded, as he retreated into the night. What had I ever seen in that man?

“Are you all right?”

I looked into warm, caring eyes and wondered about my judgment of other people’s character. I’d been wrong about these two men, that was obvious. “I’m fine. Let’s go have dinner.”

Mac smiled and held out his arm. “As you wish, my lady.”

We ate at a little pizza place on the outskirts of Ugly Creek. The food was good, the atmosphere fun, and the company excellent. Afterward we walked slowly down the sidewalk toward Gibson’s car. His warm hand caressed my back as we walked.

Once we reached his rental, he opened the door for me. Instead of getting in, I stood looking into the face of a man I was coming to like more by the minute. I fumbled in my brain for something clever to say, but no luck.

Then it didn’t matter, because Mac was leaning toward me. When his lips touched mine, I wanted to melt into his arms. My arms reached around his neck to prevent sliding to the sidewalk—and because feeling his hard muscles was an incredible experience. I heard him groan softly as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. He deepened the kiss and I was lost in his touch.

When he pulled back I wanted badly to hang on tight. He smiled. “I think I should get you home.”

Wordlessly, I slipped into his car and he got behind the wheel. I was caught up in a trance state, unable to think. When the car pulled into Mom’s driveway, I actually let out a sad sigh. How pathetic am I anyway?

Mac came around to open my door and help me out. We stood there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. “I had a great time,” I finally managed.

“Me too.” His lips gently caressed mine before he pulled away and took my hand in his. “I’d better get you in.”

“Would you like to stay a while?” Pathetic much?

He smiled. “I’d better get going. See you tomorrow?”

I nodded and we walked toward the house. He gently kissed me one last time, then loped back to his car. I closed the door, sighed wistfully, and spun around.

Mom was leaning against the banister, arms crossed, and a smug smile on her face. “So that was the great and terrible Gibson McFain?”

I nodded. “Okay, I was wrong about him. And Greg.”

Mom came over to me and put a hand on my arm. “Sometimes the heart sees things the mind can’t—or won’t.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I hugged her, then headed for the stairs. I was about halfway up when a bark had me retracing my steps. I scooped up Gizmo and headed for my room.

“So did you really need me to carry you up the stairs, or are you just too lazy to climb them yourself?” I asked the mutt as I put him on my bed.

“Hey, short legs here.” He brought up a back paw to scratch his ear.

“I need a shower.” I pulled open a drawer.

“I saw your boyfriend with Kate Stone.”

“I’m not surprised, she’s his assistant.”

“Not McFain, the other one.”

I turned to look at my furry informant. “Greg?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And what in the world would those two have to talk about?”

Gizmo scratched his other ear. “I don’t know. Before I could find out, that mean woman at the B&B ran me out. With a broom! Not an animal lover that one.”

As I took my shower, and later as I lay in the dark waiting for sleep, I wondered what Greg and Kate had found to discuss. Strange, but then, I was raised in Ugly Creek—where strange was a way of life. Besides, what did I care what either of them did. I had more important things to think about.

Thoughts of a tall, handsome, intriguing male filled my mind, and I slipped into sleep with a smile on my face.

****

The next morning was sunny, but a chilly wind blew out of the north. The film crew was farther from town today, at a park honoring the fallen on both sides of a local battle of the Civil War. There was more space, and the security guards were in place watching over the crew and onlookers. The sight of armed guards was sadly reassuring.

In spite of my warm Nine West pink sweater and khaki pants and my sweet light pink Banana Republic jacket, the cold seemed to seep into my skin. A smile from Mac warmed me, though, as I sat contentedly and watched him direct his crew.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” the voice wasn’t loud, but that didn’t change the harsh tone.

I looked up to see a very short, very angry looking man standing in front of me.

BOOK: Secrets of Ugly Creek
5.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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