Page 34 of Highball Rush
He crouched in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Gibson, I have to do this.”
His eyes held mine, his gaze intense. A part of me wanted to shrink away, hide from his scrutiny. Another part wanted to wrap myself around him and beg him not to let me go.
He stood again and rubbed his chin. “Fine, but if you’re going to do this, we need to be smart about it. You can’t just show up on Lake Drive tomorrow and start saying hi to people.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Start small. We’ll tell my family first. We can trust them, and it’ll get them off my ass.”
There was reassurance in that idea. Safety. “Okay.”
“That kinda means more than just my brothers and Scarlett. We’ll have to tell Cass, and that means Sheriff Tucker. It also means Juney and George. And Shelby.”
“That seems like a good start.”
“But to the rest of the town, you stay Maya,” he said, pointing at me. “At least until we figure out what to do about the judge.”
“I can live with that. But if I go out, do you think people will recognize me? Or should I just stay hunkered down here?” Truthfully, the idea of hiding out in Gibson’s cabin for a while sounded nice. I liked it here.
“No, if you stay here, it’ll just make everyone more curious. They’ll assume we’re hiding something. We’ll just need to sell everyone on the story that you’re Maya Davis. People might think you look familiar, but you’ve changed. And after Abbie Gilbert, no one’s gonna be quick to believe the real Callie is back.”
Absently, my fingers went to the thin ridge of scar tissue on my cheek. It was the strangest thing. Gibson didn’t seem to notice it at all.
“Okay, so we tell your family. And we tell the rest of the town that I’m Maya Davis.”
“Right.”
Without meaning to, I tongued the notch in my lip. I tended to do that when I was nervous. “And that Maya is your…”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It would probably help if we went along with the girlfriend story. That’ll be gossip enough for the town to chew on for a while.”
I grinned at him. “I take it Gibson Bodine with a real girlfriend isn’t something they’re used to seeing.”
He shook his head and grunted.
God, this guy. So adorable. I realized that probably meant his body count was high. A man like him would have no shortage of willing women. But it didn’t bother me. I’d had my share of flings and brief relationships. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone, but I’d never stayed with one guy for long. Mostly because I never stayed in one place.
And there I went again, thinking about Gibson all wrong. This pretend girlfriend thing was already going to my head. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t typically go for men who were so surly and brooding. Usually that was because they were a client I was trying to coax back into productivity.
But Gibson’s gruff demeanor, brooding looks, and gravelly voice were irresistible. It was probably a good thing he’d gotten up from the couch or I might have crawled into his lap.
“I can play along,” I said. “Record producer Maya Davis meets Gibson Bodine, sexy carpenter by day, country bar singer by night. Sparks fly and the next thing you know, Bootleg Springs has a new couple to whisper about.”
He gave me a quick nod and I couldn’t tell how he felt about this plan. Did he hate the idea of having to pretend we were together? Or was he just frustrated that his neighbors wouldn’t leave him alone? It was hard to be sure.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if we tell all those people, but keep it from the rest of the town, will it stay quiet? Like you said, this is Bootleg Springs. Secrets don’t stay secret for long.”
“Sometimes they do,” he said. “And if they tell anyone, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?”
He scowled. “I don’t know, but they won’t like it.”
* * *
Gibson’s truckbounced on the gravel road, the early morning light filtering through the trees. It wasn’t long after dawn, but he’d said the Bodines always did their business over breakfast. I hugged his flannel shirt around me, my stomach churning with nerves. I’d barely slept last night. Seeing Gibson was one thing. But I was about to step in front of nearly a dozen Bootleggers and tell them the truth about who I was.
