A Great Kisser Page 11

  Jake sighed. What Roger was asking wasn’t unreasonable, or even particularly problematic, so long as the “guys” didn’t try and tell him how to fly his plane. It was just…he had other plans for Sunday. “Okay, okay. What time were you planning on heading up?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. We’re all in Vegas for the weekend, and I was hoping you could come get us. You know, really make a day of it.”

  Great. A whole day. And night of it, too. Roger had talked about his work buddies often enough that Jake knew exactly what was going to be expected of him. And a quick tour of the hangar wasn’t going to cut it. “Let me see what I can do, and I’ll get back with you.”

  “I’m heading out to the pool, then we’ve got a private game scheduled after lunch. Get back to me before then.”

  Roger was all jovial, all “good buddy” and excited little kid. But he was also ridiculously wealthy for a guy who’d just turned forty, and he’d earned it all on his own. As had his banker and broker buddies. They were understandably cocky with it and not a little self-important—and entitled. Irritating as their “you’ll do it my way” attitude might be to Jake, he understood that this was what he had to deal with if he wanted them to throw any hard-earned play money in his direction.

  “Will do,” he said, then hung up and rubbed his hands over his face. “Will do, indeed,” he muttered. He stared at the phone, knowing his next call should be to the motel, and Lauren. He wished he could move up their date to today, but with lessons scheduled all day tomorrow, today would be the only chance he had to get the place tour-ready and figure out exactly how he wanted to orchestrate the event for the guys.

  As much as the whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth, he’d already come to terms with the fact that he wanted the win badly enough that he was willing to do what it took to get it. So there was no point in pissing and moaning now that it was within his grasp. And if he set up the day right, it was highly possible there would be a fat check in his hand when he dropped them off back in Vegas late Sunday night. Or Monday.

  He sighed and picked up the phone again, started to dial information for the motel phone number, then put the phone down again. If he was going to lose any chance to see Lauren on Sunday, then the least he could do was apologize in person. And get a little face time as well.

  He just hoped it wasn’t the last face time he’d have. She’d been wishy-washy on the length of her stay, but given what he knew about her current employment situation, he understood there was no immediate need to fly back east. And since he was already rolling the dice with Roger and his crew, he figured what the hell. Might as well gamble on Lauren as well. If he could push her to extend her stay a little, then he wasn’t above doing so. Not that he wished more family disharmony on her, but he wouldn’t mind if it took a little longer than she expected.

  He glanced at the large, framed black-and-white photo of a younger, beaming Patrick McKenna, and Betty Sue, taken the day he’d bought her. “You might not agree with my methods,” he told his grandfather, “but I’ll come home with a win.”

  He grabbed his keys and headed outside, not bothering to clarify to Paddy—or himself—whether he meant the race…or Lauren Matthews.

  Chapter 8

  Lauren was sitting on a small wooden chair at the tiny local library, head bent over a newspaper, when someone whispered in her ear.

  “I hear they sell those for a quarter and you can read them anywhere you want.”

  Her heart stuttered. She smiled. And looked up at the man responsible for a good deal of lost sleep the night before. Which, considering the dinner she’d been at earlier in the evening, she was actually thankful for. “Not if you want to read papers from five years ago.”

  “True. We can be a little behind the times, but generally not that much.” He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and nodded to the stack of papers, some more yellowed than others, piled in front of her. “So, what’s up with the reading material?”

  She debated on what to say. As it was, she’d come in hoping to screen through microfiche at worst, or, at best, a digital database. But worst turned out to be digging through file folders of originals instead. No indexing, other than by date. And the only data search was the really old-fashioned way: reading the paper yourself. “Just doing a little research.”

  “On…” He craned his neck and lifted a few papers. “…Cedar Springs business, front page news. There’s some exciting reading.”

  “It’s actually been more interesting than I’d imagined.” Which was true. She’d been born in Richmond, just south of metropolitan Washington, and a capital city itself, so she’d grown up with nationally known newspapers as her “local” paper. She’d found it illuminating to see what a tiny resort town tucked away literally in the middle of nowhere thought was the news its readers would most want to know about.

  “Yes, well, the race for the local fire chief was looking like a slam dunk last year. And then Paul Mathison’s book store burned down right in the middle of the chief’s re-election rally.”

  “I’m guessing the incumbent didn’t take it then.”

  “Nope. Sally Harper did.”

  “Sally. Wow, how progressive.”

  Jake smiled and lifted a shoulder. “In some ways, we are very forward thinking. She was the most qualified for the job, and her ideas on improving the safety measures in town were solid and well grounded. Of course, in other ways, we do get a bit stuck. Marsha Stinson tried to change the annual Christmas pageant to a more broad-scoped event that embraced multiple beliefs without focusing on any one in particular. Despite the fact that we have almost no cultural diversity here and pretty much everyone attends the same church.”

  “How’d that go over?”

  “Better with the town council than her own family. She almost ended up in divorce court.”

  “Seriously? Why?”

  Jake grinned. “Marsha’s husband is our Santa Claus, has been for twenty-two years. His own beard and everything. He’s also our minister.”

  “Ah.”

  “Small-town politics almost always get personal.” He leaned back in his chair. “Interested in local politics? Thinking about relocating?”

  It would have been easy enough to let him believe that. It would certainly be a reasonable explanation for why she was delving into the newsworthy past of the town. She’d decided last night while analyzing the evening that she needed to be prepared for any outcome when she sat down with her mother one-on-one, and though she was pretty sure where the conversation would take them, she needed to have some backup if she was off base. Meeting Arlen hadn’t changed her opinion of him, and so it stood to reason that if she could back up her gut instinct on the guy with some kind of hard facts, it could only help her get her point across, or at least explain why she wasn’t going to be his biggest fan.

  And, to do that, she needed to keep digging. There was a lot more to access here…but everyone was watching. So she needed help from an insider…and Jake was the only person she’d trust. She just hated to pull him into this. He seemed like a decent guy. A decent guy who had enough going on without adopting the problems of a woman he just met.

  “That’s okay,” he said when the silence extended past a reasonable limit. “It’s none of my business.”

  “It’s not that. Well, it is that, but only because I don’t want to make it your business. You have enough, with the race and everything.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, and I’ll let you know when or if I don’t feel comfortable knowing more or getting involved.”

  She smiled. “Bold offer for a guy who doesn’t like to get involved even in his own town’s business.”

  “Maybe that makes me the worst guy to confide in…or the best. I won’t know until you tell me.”

  “My interest is in your local politics, but I’m not job hunting.”

  “Ah. So would this be about doing a little research on the new branch of the family tree?
”

  He made it so easy. And, for once, rather than being wary or guarded, as she’d always had to be when any helpful hand was extended in her previous job—helpful hands usually wanted return favors—she was simply grateful. “Yes.”

  “Anything specific you want to know?”

  She laid the paper on the table and held his gaze. “Yes.”

  He was quick, Jake McKenna was. And for that, she was very grateful. His gaze sharpened immediately. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “How well do you know the mayor?” she asked, keeping her tone hushed in a library whisper.

  He slid her papers into a stack. “Come on. Not here.” He scooped up the papers and stood.

  “I still want to look through those,” she said.

  “Not a problem.”

  “You can’t check those out.”

  Jake just grinned. “Sure you can.”

  “But, the librarian told me—”

  “You didn’t give the librarian the first kiss she ever had.”

  Lauren arched an eyebrow, thinking of the young, attractive woman who’d been manning the front desk. “How long ago was that?”

  “Oh, it’s been a while.”

  “I bet,” Lauren said dryly. “And you think it was so good that, all these years later, she still owes you?”

  He smiled. “Well, in case time has dulled the thrill, there was that time I got her and her husband to a special care facility in Denver in the middle of a snowstorm when Daisy, their six-year-old, had an unexplained seizure in the middle of the night.”

  Lauren stopped and turned. “Are you a medical pilot as well?”

  “I’m whatever kind of pilot this town needs. But I work with Doctors Without Borders, and our local hospital, which is really nothing more than a clinic. During ski season, which runs six to eight months of every year, there are always a string of emergencies where we need to get folks who have no business being on a mountain the size of ours and prove it by breaking something critical to their survival, to Denver so more practiced surgeons can hopefully keep their fool asses alive.”

  She smiled wryly. “Well, it must be reassuring for them to have such a compassionate pilot on hand.”

  He grinned. “I’ve never had one turn down a ride yet.” Jake plopped the papers on the check-out desk. “Hi, Becky. Mind if Ms. Matthews here borrows these? She’s been called away on some town business and would truly appreciate the chance to finish up with her reading before filing these back away.”

  Becky was a fresh-faced brunette who looked like she was in her twenties, but was obviously at least a decade older given Jake’s revelation. Of course, everyone here was fresh-faced. Lauren had already decided she was going to start drinking whatever they were drinking. Heavily.

  “Sure, Jake,” Becky said. “Not a problem. Let me see if I’ve got a tote those can fit into.”

  “How’s Daisy doing these days?” he asked, leaning on the counter as Becky hunted through some boxes.

  “She just made the varsity ski team.”

  “God, I’m old.”

  Becky straightened and handed him a canvas tote with long shoulder straps. “Tell me about it,” she said, still twinkling. “I watch her barrel down the side of that mountain with my heart in my throat and swear my hair will turn pure white before she sees graduation.” She slid the stack of newspapers inside the bag. “Of course, Ray—that’s my husband,” she said to Lauren, “wishes he were still out there on the mountain racing right alongside her. He loves every second of it. I swear, one of them will be the death of me.”

  “They wouldn’t last a day without you,” Jake said, taking the tote before Lauren could reach for it. “Thanks for the favor.” He slid the straps over his shoulder. “We’ll get these back to you as quick as we can.”

  “No worries,” she said, then smiled at Lauren. “How are you liking your stay? Has the mayor shown you around yet?” She glanced at Jake and her twinkle took on a teasing flair. “Or are you playing tour guide?”

  Lauren started to jump in, wanting to save him from being any part of town gossip. It was one thing to fantasize about him and all the parts of her she’d very much like him to tour and guide himself into, but the town didn’t have to be speculating that anything was going on.

  However, he answered quite easily, and with no apparent concern for what it might make people think or speculate about. “I’m trying to talk her into a little air tour, but she hasn’t decided if she can squeeze me into her very busy schedule.” He lifted the tote. “So, I might have an ulterior motive for lightening her work load here a little.”

  Becky wiggled her eyebrows, then gave Lauren a conspiratorial wink. “Take the tour.”

  Lauren felt her cheeks flush a little and swore she’d never blushed so often in her entire adult life. But then, she’d never been so obviously affected by anyone, as she was by Jake. “I’m considering it,” she said, not risking glancing at him. “Smart woman.” Becky leaned over the counter and whispered, “Not a bad kisser, either. Just sayin.”

  “I heard that. And we were eight-year-olds.”

  “Girls know these things,” she said, then winked at Lauren again.

  “Girls think they know lots of things when it comes to guys.”

  “I could give you confirmation from any number of local sources, if you—”

  “Come on,” Jake said, corralling Lauren toward the door. “Before she ruins any chance I have getting you up in that plane.”

  “The conversation was just getting interesting,” Lauren protested, rather liking the suddenly self-conscious look on Jake’s face.

  “We can have our own interesting conversation.”

  Now she grinned at him. “Really? That sounds—” They stopped outside the door, just short of physically running into the woman about to enter. “Mom. What are you doing here?”

  Charlene glanced between the two of them. “I stopped by your motel room, but you weren’t in. Debbie was at the desk and said you’d walked into town. Then, when I was getting coffee at The Beanery, Maryann mentioned she’d seen you going into the library. So I took my chances you’d still be here. But if I’m interrupting something…”

  “No, I was just leaving, but—”

  “Lauren, thanks for your help with this,” Jake said, patting the tote still slung over his shoulder. “I’ve got to get back, I have lessons off and on all day.”

  She caught his steady gaze and held it, reading between the lines, and very thankful he’d done the same. It seemed her trust hadn’t been misplaced. “No problem. Glad to help.”

  He waved and was off, leaving Lauren with her mother…and thankfully not a tote bag full of newspapers she’d have to explain away. More tension and explanations they didn’t need.

  “If you’ve got some time, I thought maybe we could talk,” her mother said. “You mentioned it when you were leaving, and I’d like that as well.”

  “Of course I have time,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.” Conscious of Becky somewhere behind her and who knows who walking by out behind her mother, she quietly added, “Is there someplace we can go where the whole town won’t be taking notes on our entire conversation?”

  Her mother smiled. “I’m afraid that’s asking a bit much around here, but if you don’t mind walking, there’s a really nice path through the park, which passes by the botanical gardens. That’s about as private as it gets. Unless you’d rather go back to the motel, or out to our place.”

  “I like the walk in the park idea. It’s a really pretty day.” It put them on even footing, too, and gave them something to do besides stare at each other while trying to find the right words.

  Her mother led the way, nodding hello to pretty much everyone they passed, stopping a few times to introduce Lauren and to engage in brief conversations. “Sorry,” she said after they were stopped for what felt like the dozenth time, and they’d only gone two blocks. “Once we get off Main, it will quiet down. It’s not normally this eventful.”
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  “No problem, I understand. You forget, I used to shadow a senator.”

  “Oh, it’s not political, sweetheart, it’s just the way small towns are.”

  Lauren wanted to say that while she’d noted the friendly, outgoing nature of pretty much every man, woman, and dog in Cedar Springs, there weren’t suddenly that many more people strolling Main Street by coincidence. “Give yourself a little credit. You’re a draw. It’s not surprising the street gets a little more crowded when you take a stroll.”

  “Well, to be honest, it’s not me, it’s you.”

  “Me?”

  They turned into the park and crossed a short footbridge over the Panlo River that ran parallel to the town. “Trust me, while most everyone is happy enough with my arrival here, and in a rural mountain town such as this one, you don’t even have to try to snoop to know everybody’s business, it’s not normally quite such a parade when I take a walk. I just didn’t want you to feel self-conscious.”

  “Well, while I’m not used to the limelight being focused on me, I am used to being in the halo of the glow. It’s a little odd thinking that everybody in town knows my whereabouts at any given moment.” Making her doubly glad Jake took the newspaper-filled tote. Although she couldn’t help but wonder if Librarian Becky was already on the phone spreading the word that she’d checked them out, with God knows what kind of speculation attached. Lauren would like to think she was being ridiculous, except, after the parade event she’d just contended with in a three-block stroll down Main Street, she was probably underestimating.

  “They’re interested because I’ve been here a while and you’re just now visiting.”

  “People really care about the timing of my visit? Or do they know you and I have…that things have been a little strained since you moved here? Have you made some close friends? Would they, perhaps, be part of why people seem so caught up in my arrival?”