Beneath the Stetson(25)

As a protest, it was weak.

Gil rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs brushing the thin cotton of her blouse where it glided over her breasts. “You make me want to forget everything. That’s dangerous.”

“Should I apologize?” Her arms linked around his neck, feeling his warmth, his solidness.

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Gil had to hand it to Bailey. She knew how to be charming. Her manner with the men he had invited hit just the right note. Neither authoritative nor tentative, she invited the guests to speak with her in private one by one. And as each man returned from the parlor, no one seemed particularly bent out of shape by Bailey’s informal interrogation.

Over dinner, Gil surveyed the assorted group of men. Only two on his list had begged off. Sheriff Nathan Battle, who was on duty, and Paul Windsor, who was out of town on a business trip.

The rest had varying degrees of history with Alex Santiago. Douglas Firestone, Ryan Grant, the twins—Josh and Sam Gordon, Zach Lassiter, and Beau Hacket. With the possible exception of Hacket, Gil liked and respected every man present. And even Hacket, despite his son’s recent vandalism of the child care center at the club, hardly seemed the type to kidnap anybody.

Fortunately, the medium-rare steaks were a big hit, the beer held out, and Bailey had the good sense to excuse herself from the table before the party became rowdy. By the time the evening wound down around ten, Gil was fairly certain that none of his guests really remembered why they had come. Each one went home with his belly full and perhaps a forbidden cigar or two smoked on the way out.

Gil closed and locked the front door, leaning against it with a sigh. As male bonding went, the evening was a home run.

But all he could think about was getting Bailey naked.

He found her in the parlor, her laptop open, her head bent studiously over a legal pad of notes. “Did you get anything good?” he asked, sprawling in a chair that was more comfortable than it looked.

She glanced up at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “I have no idea. They all claim to like Alex. Firestone does admit to arguing with him, but insists it was nothing significant. Hacket tried to schmooze me and pretend that he’s a saint. But overall, I came up with nothing that I didn’t already know or suspect.”

He saw the frustration on her face. “I invited Chance, but he was reluctant to come.”

“I know. He glares at me when he thinks I’m not looking.” She rubbed her temples with her index fingers. “I’ve had plenty of opportunity to talk to him, and if he’s the kind of man to commit a felony, I’ll be very surprised.”

“Men in love do strange things.”

“Is he? In love, I mean? You know him better than I do.”

“I don’t know. He and Cara were very close. But once Alex came on the scene, she had eyes for nobody else.”

“So with Alex gone, Chance might try to make his move?”

“Even if he does, it still doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Alex’s disappearance.”

“True...”

She stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. “Enough of this. I’m officially off the clock until tomorrow.”

Gil linked his hands behind his head. “I like the sound of that.”

Hands on hips, she stared at him.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Will I seem hopelessly inexperienced if I tell you I’m nervous?”

He rolled to his feet and walked toward her, grinning when she backed up and nearly toppled an antique glass pitcher. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“That’s what you think. I’m having trouble with the shift from work to play.”

He tucked her hair behind her ears, glad that she had left it loose tonight. “I can help with that.” Scooping her into his arms, he ignored her squeak of protest. “We’re alone at last. I thought they would never leave.” Striding out of the room and up the stairs, he felt his heart beating faster and faster, though carrying his burden was no strain. “In case it matters,” he said, nuzzling her ear, “you’re the first woman I’ve ever invited for a sleepover.”

* * *

Bailey clung to Gil’s neck, mortified that he had picked her up. She was not a petite woman, yet he seemed completely at ease. In the midst of being flustered by his romantic gesture, she was also taken aback by the casual way he told her this night was special.

In the doorway to his bedroom, he paused. “Last chance to say no.” His dark eyes held not a flicker of humor.

She ran her thumb along his chiseled jawline. “I don’t want to say no. I need you, Gil. I want you. Even if this night is all we have.”