“Excellent.” I motioned to the kitchen with a grandiose, sweeping hand movement and bellowed in an odd voice, “In that case, stay for dinner, eat my tacos, drink my wine.”
He grinned. “I accept. Why didn’t you call? I thought you were coming into town on Wednesday.”
“I took an earlier flight, as I needed to get out of L.A. My mother was trying to set me up on another blind date.” I turned back to the stove; the meat had been neglected for too long and was now hissing. “Crap. I don’t know how to use a gas range. I feel like I’m burning this.”
“Your momma still doing that?”
“Yes. She thinks I need a man to ‘see to my needs.’ Every time she says it, an angel loses its wings and I know Baby Jesus cries.”
He smirked. “Your momma wants to make sure you get laid.”
“I don’t know where to start with her. She makes no sense, trying to set me up all the time. She raised me to believe everyone is an axe murderer.”
“Is this about that Layorona lady? The one your brother told me wanders around looking for her kids?”
“It’s pronounced La Llorona, and yes. She is the ghost of a woman in white, searching for her children, because she murdered them. Fear of strangers is second only to fear of La Llorona when you're a Mexican kid.”
Hank’s grin was pained, like a wincing grin. “Your momma is funny.”
“It’s not funny. It’s terrifying. We all grew up knowing who she was and being told we must listen or La Llorona will find you. I'm still not sure if the lesson is listen to your parents or La Llorona will find you and kill you, or listen to your Mexican mother because she might go crazy and kill you. Oh sure, she'll spend eternity crying and searching for you, but she will kill you.”
“Maybe if you’d listen to her, you’d find a good man.”
I scoffed and snorted, shaking my head. “No. She just enjoys flinging random men in my direction.”
“Little does she know . . .” Hank’s attention caught on the meat, and he bumped me out of the way, snatching the spatula from my grip. “Here, let me do this. You go cut the tomatoes.”
I relinquished control of the beef and began my search for a cutting board and knife. “How did you know I was here?”
He didn’t answer straightaway. I glanced over my shoulder and stared at him for several seconds. He was stalling.
“Hank?”
“I ran into, uh, the guy who helped you get here earlier. He mentioned he’d taken you up the mountain.”
“Oh! Ranger Jethro with the sexy eyes and the George Clooney jaw.” I grinned at the wooden cutting board I’d just discovered, recalling how much fun it had been to flirt with the ranger. Too bad he was so adorable. In retrospect, I decided if he’d been slightly less of a hot guy I might’ve let him kiss me. And if he’d been a good kisser then I might’ve given him my number for . . . whatever.
Yes, it has been a while, and yes, he had been that tempting.
I wasn’t planning on entertaining any gentleman callers while in Tennessee, but plans can change. Although, my cell was getting absolutely no reception. Even if I’d given him my number, it would’ve led nowhere.
“Was he flirting with you?”
“Yes. He was flirting with me.” I lifted an eyebrow at Hank’s sharp tone. “And he was rather good at it, actually. You don’t see that kind of flirting skill out in the wild very often.”
“Yeah, well, he flirts with everybody,” Hank mumbled, stirring the meat with jerky movements.
I studied my friend’s sullen expression for a beat, mulled over his words. “If he flirts with everybody, then why did you ask if he flirted with me?”
“Because . . .” He huffed. “Fine. He doesn’t flirt with everybody. Well, he doesn’t mean to. He’s a con man is all, a charmer. People like him ’cause he’s easy to like. Regardless, if you see him again, avoid him.”
“He’s a con man?” This made me smirk. Ranger Jethro didn’t seem like the con-artist type. He didn’t give off a smarmy vibe, not with his penchant for rescuing red-faced damsels in distress and not wrecking the wheels of their luggage. Though, the intensity of the look he’d given me just before leaving made me think Mr. Hot Guy Park Ranger was more than a tad dangerous beneath his cowboy hat and tool belt.
“I should say: he was a con man. But, yeah, I mean, he’s turned his life around in the last few years. Used to be, if a car went missing, you knew who took it.”
“Ranger Jethro used to steal cars? When did he get out of jail?” My mouth dropped open.