Dawson's Stand (Welcome to Covendale Book 4) (5 page)

But Gage just shrugged. “He hurt my sister,” he said. “Nobody messes with a Dawson.”

Right then, she knew she’d never believe any of the rumors about the Dawsons. The simple, matter-of-fact statement spoke volumes about him. Clearly, he loved his family, would do anything for them—and since Dean had to scheme to get him alone, the rest of them must’ve felt the same way about him.

It was the kind of family she’d always wished for. The kind she’d wanted to start with Mike. At first she believed he wanted it, too.

How very wrong she’d been about that.

“Hey, are you all right?” The concern in Gage’s voice steered her away from the dark alley of her thoughts. “You just turned white as a sheet. I…don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that happen before. Thought it was just an expression.”

She smiled. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Well, okay then.” He sent her a half-smile that made her pulse thrum like a wire. “Warn me if you’re gonna throw up, though. This is Jonah’s car, and he’ll kill me.”

Her own laughter startled her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been relaxed enough to laugh. “Duly noted,” she said. “Who’s Jonah?”

“The big, bad Dawson.” Gage grinned and slowed as he turned onto her street. She was surprised they’d gotten here so fast. “But don’t let him fool you. Mark’s the one you need to watch. All the rumors about him are true.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what rumors are those?”

“The ones about the surgery to remove his sense of humor, and have a stick permanently implanted in his—orifice.”

“Wow. He must be pure evil.”

“The devil in the flesh.” Still grinning, he pulled into the driveway behind her truck. “Nice place you have here,” he said. “I remember this was a summer place for the longest time. Had some pretty strange people staying here. Not that you’re strange,” he added quickly. “I mean, you drive a truck, so you fit right in.”

“Thank you. I think.” For a minute she just sat there looking at the house. Her house. She could make her own rules here, do anything she wanted. Come and go as she pleased. Have company, or not, without asking for permission.

She could invite Gage inside.

The thought stole her breath. Part of her wanted to do that more than anything, but the rest of her was a quivering tangle of panic and nerves. She barely knew him. What if something unexpected happened…what if he wasn’t safe?

What if he was, and she was too afraid to find out?

She drew a deep breath and clasped her hands together. “Would you like to come in?” she said, hoping her voice didn’t shake too much. “I could get you some ice. For your eye.”

He didn’t answer right away. She glanced at him, and caught his troubled expression just before he said, “I think maybe I shouldn’t do that.”

“Oh.” Her nerves calmed instantly, and she should’ve been relieved. Inviting him in was the expected thing to do. He’d saved her the agony of indecision by turning her down, taking the path of least resistance.

So why did it make her so sad?

“You’ve had a rough night, and you should get some rest.” He smiled, but something darker lurked behind it. “Tell you what, though. Consider the pie offer an open-ended invitation. Any time you’re up for the best dessert in Covendale, just say the word.”

“It’s a deal,” she said. “With one catch.”

“And that would be…”

“You have to tell me how to find you.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” He smirked. “Got a phone? I’ll put my number in for you.”

“Okay.”

She pulled her phone out and handed it to him, and he tapped through to her address book. As he entered the info, she suddenly realized that the contents of her phone were pretty pathetic. Gage would only be the third contact in there, after Ralph and Miss Stella. She’d never bothered with apps, didn’t have a text history, and the only calls in the log were Ralph and work. If a thief stole her phone, he’d probably feel sorry for her and give it back.

But if Gage noticed her complete lack of a life, he didn’t say anything. “There you go,” he said, handing the phone over. “Call any time. I’m serious. Even if you have a sudden craving for pie at three in the morning.”

“Thank you,” she said. “And for the ride home, too.”

“Thanks for hauling me out of the fire.” His expression sobered, and he looked at her so intently she could feel it in her gut. Then all at once, he was sunny and smiling again. “So, I’ll see you around?”

“Yes,” she said. “See you around.”

They said goodnight, and she got out of the car and headed for the house. It was a struggle not to look back. She’d never been this confused about anything, and she had no idea what to think. Only one thing about tonight was clear. For just a moment, when he looked at her with fire in his eyes, he’d been thinking about kissing her.

And she’d been thinking about letting him.

* * * *

What the hell was wrong with him?

Gage headed back into town and toward home, forcing himself not to speed. The last thing he needed tonight was a traffic stop on general principle. If it was physically possible, he would’ve kicked himself repeatedly.

A beautiful woman had just invited him into her house—and he’d said no.

Oh, he was definitely attracted. Painfully so, at the moment. But something held him back and made him want to take it slow with her. He’d actually meant it when he said he wasn’t asking her out. She’d been so shaken up, so distraught when she broke up the fight, that all he wanted to do was help her relax. Make her smile again.

Christ, he was treating her like glass that might break any second. He couldn’t even bring himself to swear around her. She obviously wasn’t fragile. She’d marched right up to that meathead Dean brought along, all five foot nothing of her, and made him back down like a scolded dog. And she’d dosed Deputy Dipshit straight in the face without pause. The woman had a bucket of guts.

So why did he get the feeling that he should be protecting her, when she’d been the one saving his stupid ass?

When he pulled into the driveway at the house, he tried to put her out of his mind. Somebody was still awake in there. It was probably Mark, which meant he’d be grilled about the black eye—but it wouldn’t stop there. And if his brother managed to pry anything out of him that led to Kyla, he’d make some crass comment that would oblige Gage to take a swing at him.

For once, he wasn’t in the mood to fight.

He headed inside to find the television on, but no one watching. Unfortunately there was light coming from the kitchen. He needed to get something on his eye, which meant he couldn’t avoid whoever was in there. So it was either a fight with Mark, or that look from Luka. The one that made him feel about two inches tall.

The last thing he expected was Jonah sitting at the table. With a cup of hot chocolate.

“Hey, bro.” Gage headed for the fridge as casually as possible, keeping his black eye turned away. Jonah only went for hot chocolate when he was really on edge—and since he moonlighted as an enforcer for the town’s loan shark, it took a lot to get him there. This was not a good time to upset him. “Good news. Your car made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah? Well, you didn’t,” Jonah rumbled.

Damn. So much for casual. “It’s nothing,” he said, yanking the freezer open to grab a bag of frozen peas. “I had a disagreement with the eight ball.”

“Eight balls don’t wear rings.”

“Okay, fine. It was the five.” He sighed and plopped down in the chair across from Jonah, then slapped the bag on his eye. “I don’t want to talk about it. All right?”

His brother was silent for a moment. “Mark said you took Jenny Steele out tonight.”

“Jesus Christ. Did he say I slept with her, too? And every female at the bar, and maybe the entire cheerleading squad from my graduating class?” He scowled and sank lower in the chair. “Well, I did. The first thing, not the second one. And it was a mistake. Happy now?”

“He’s worried,” Jonah said. “So am I. Who did that to you?”

“You know who.”

“Dean.”

“And company.” He winced and lowered the bag. “Well, you can both stop worrying,” he said. “It was my own damned fault, and it won’t happen again. Besides, I think I should be worried about you.”

“Why?”

He pointed at the mug. “You’re drinking cocoa. With marshmallows.”

Jonah looked down with faint surprise. “Huh,” he said. “Guess I am.”

“Come on, bro. What’s wrong?”

His features hardened. “Nothing.”

“All right. Be a jackass, then.” Gage knew he shouldn’t have expected anything different. Jonah never talked about his problems—mostly because he thought no one else could handle hearing about them. But it was just another Dawson thing. They all had green eyes and stubborn streaks a mile wide. “Well, I’m turning in,” he said, standing slowly in deference to his still-aching ribs. “We’ve got work in the morning, you know.”

“Yeah.” Jonah stared at him intently. “I want a name, Gage.”

His heart lurched. “What name?”

“You said Dean and company. So who’s company?”

“Oh. That.” For a minute he’d been convinced Jonah had somehow known about Kyla. He really didn’t want to talk about her, with either of his brothers. They’d try to give him romantic advice—or just rib him endlessly. Hell, he didn’t even know what it was with her yet. And he was an idiot for even thinking about romance. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally said. “I already told you it won’t happen again.”

“You sure about that?”

“Well, I can’t speak for Deputy Dean. But I’m done with it.”

Jonah stared at him a moment longer. “All right,” he said. “You tell me if they give you any more shit, though.”

“Yeah, I will. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Gage headed upstairs, keeping his temper under careful control. He knew Jonah meant well. If he had to admit it, he supposed Mark did too. But he was through letting his brothers fight his battles for him. And if that meant leaving out a few details, like there’d been four of them instead of the two he’d assumed, then so be it.

He’d stand—or fall—on his own.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

The next morning, Kyla was tempted to stay in and lounge around her new place. But she’d promised herself she wouldn’t keep avoiding other people, and that she’d start looking for a more permanent job right away. After a year working part-time at the post office, it was clear the full-time carrier position wasn’t going to open up any time soon. Enola Frasier might’ve been doing it for 45 years, but the tough old lady had no plans to retire soon.

Part of her wanted to count last night as above and beyond her personal vow to end the solitude. After all, she hadn’t just gone out and had a few drinks—she’d broken up a serious fight that involved an off-duty cop. And she’d accepted a ride home from a virtual stranger.

Since then, she hadn’t been able to get Gage Dawson off her mind.

She still couldn’t believe she’d actually invited him inside.  More than that, she’d completely expected him to agree. He seemed like the type of man who’d jump at an offer like that, no questions asked.

But that thought was based on other people’s perceptions of him. Gage had been nothing but a gentleman, and she had to stop assuming things. That was what got her into trouble in the first place.

After she’d argued herself into getting a move on, she showered and dressed, then headed for the main part of town. She’d already used her laptop to search online for job openings, with the expectation she wouldn’t find anything for a town this small. Her expectations weren’t disappointed. And she’d read all the classifieds yesterday morning before she left Miss Stella’s—no dice there, either. The Covendale Banner only came out once a week, so the next edition wouldn’t be out until Monday.

So she’d have to look for a job the old-fashioned way.

Downtown Covendale was a charming place. Not exactly a step back in time, but it was bright and clean and moderately busy without being crowded. Kyla drove her truck slowly down Main Street, looking at all the shops and businesses she’d never paid much attention to before. She’d pretty much limited herself to the Stop ‘n Shop grocery store and Sweet Sensations bakery, so she wouldn’t run much risk of getting to know anyone.

There was actually a lot more here than she’d thought. Main Street had two lawyers right across the street from each other, a boutique clothing store, a taxidermist, a secondhand shop, a hardware store, a hobby shop, two pizza parlors, a florist, a dentist, and a Zen yoga center. And that was just three blocks.

A little further down, she spotted a beauty salon called Magic Mags—with a Help Wanted sign in the window.

She parked in one of the slanted slots in front of the place and sat in the truck for a few minutes, gathering her nerves and trying to plan what to say. She wasn’t exactly an experienced hair stylist. Okay, so she’d never done it professionally. But she could do manicures and pedicures, and she knew her way around a set of hair clippers. She was also a fast learner and willing to work hard.

Well, that was a completely lame pitch. But she’d give it a shot anyway.

She walked inside to find a spacious, well-appointed salon with three chairs, two sinks, one nail station, and no people. There was a reception desk off to the left with no one behind it, but there was an old-fashioned call bell next to the register. She drifted toward the desk debating whether to ring the bell, or turn around and walk out. Maybe she could find some more nerve later.

“That bell’s not going to ring itself, you know.”

The voice startled her, and she realized she’d been staring at the bell for longer than she thought. She looked up to see a young woman about her age approaching the desk from the back with a bemused smile. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I mean, no. Probably not.” Great. She was already stammering. Way to make a good first impression. “Um…hi.”

“Hi there.” The woman stopped, still smiling. She didn’t look like she needed a beauty salon for anything—she was gorgeous, with rich auburn hair and green eyes that were almost the same shade as Gage’s. “Can I help you with something?” she said. “We are open for business, even if it doesn’t look that way.”

Other books

REMEMBRANCE by Maddison, Nicole
Labor of Love by Rachel Hawthorne
Tokyo Love by Diana Jean
Bro on the Go by Stinson, Barney
Dogwood Days by Poppy Dennison