Page 235 of Her Reluctant Hero
He glanced down at the girl with an amused smile, then followed her onto the scuffed wooden floor, but kept his gaze on Peyton like he didn’t want to leave her alone.
She turned away, digging her fingers into the warmth of the thick sweatshirt, part of her regretting the interruption, another part of her grateful for it. She locked the outer door of the restroom, but went into a stall, just in case.
The shirt smelled like the man when she pulled it over her head, musky and smoky. Though Gabe wasn’t much taller than her, his sweatshirt fell to the tops of her thighs and the sleeves covered her hands. She fisted them in the material, warming her fingers.
She left the stall and inspected herself in the wall-length mirror, swallowed in another man’s shirt.
God, he was like Dan, reeking of testosterone, drawing people to him. Everyone had admired Dan.
The pain came, still sharp after nineteen months, and she rubbed the heel of her hand against the football emblem over her sternum. When Dan had been at work, which was most of the time, she’d kept close to him by wearing his shirts. After he died, she’d continued the practice until the fabric no longer held his scent. The implied intimacy of wearing another man’s shirt almost made her take the sweatshirt off. Maybe the warmth was the deciding factor, but she couldn’t convince herself that was all.
She was wildly attracted to Gabe Cooper. She was a grown woman, a widow for almost two years, alone all that time. Cooper was movie star handsome, with an athletic body that came from hard work instead of a gym, sexy eyes that snapped with intelligence, and he rescued women and children with stunning regularity.
The problem was, that wasn’t what attracted her. God help her, his courage was what drew her, the courage that carried him into the forest to bring fifteen girls to safety. That had brought her to safety. The trait made him the man he was, made him the man she couldn’t have.
She was determined to never get another phone call telling her the man she loved wasn’t coming home.
If she went to the front desk and rented a room, snuggled under a pile of covers, she could block out the sounds of the party, the uncomfortable thoughts of Gabe Cooper, of her new feelings for him, the fear of being alone with him now that they were in civilization.
The party was just getting started when she emerged from the bathroom. More fire crews had arrived, and the poor little waitress was running her tail off. Peyton made her way through the yellow-shirted men and women to the table, only to find her barely touched plate had been cleared.
She edged toward the bar and waited to draw the waitress’s attention.
“I want to get a room,” she told the now-harried girl.
The young woman tossed her head in the direction of the dance floor. “We just rented out the last one. Sorry. You want to pay the tab?”
Peyton reached for her money. “Sure. What is it?”
The number the waitress named floored her, and she dropped the money on the counter.
“Why so much, exactly?”
“They said you were paying for the whole table.”
“Who said?”
“The redhead.”
Of course. Kim really had it in for her, and after seeing her with Gabe, Peyton understood why. Jealousy was an ugly thing. “She was mistaken.”
The waitress grimaced at her in sympathy. “Are you a rookie?”
“Pretty obvious, huh?”
“Just a joke I’d seen played before.” The younger woman swept her with a glance. “Funny, I didn’t think Gabe Cooper took rookies.”
Wow, even the waitress in this tiny town knew his reputation.
“Don’t worry about the bill.” She waved Peyton off. “I’ll get it divided up.”
“No chance on the bed, though, huh?”
“Sorry.” The waitress moved off, her arms loaded with plates again.
Great. So now she was tired, stranded and bedless. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Gabe hadn’t gotten her hopes up. She’d ask for the keys so she could sleep in the van. At least it would be quiet out there.
Gabe and Kim still danced, backing around the floor in shuffling steps, his hand at the small of Kim’s back, his thumb stroking mindlessly. Peyton followed the movement of his thumb, felt it against her own back.
