The Stompin’ Grounds was an old-time bar and grill that had survived a couple generations of pool-playing, dance-loving, beer-drinking residents of Chance City. It was dark, even during the day, kind of run-down, offered great bar food, and music, of course—a jukebox most of the time and live music on Saturday nights.
Kincaid wasn’t a regular. Although he’d spent his junior and senior years of high school in town and been friends with a lot of people from his graduating class, he didn’t socialize much. It had taken him a long time to recover from his life prior to moving here, which was pretty much a living hell. He hadn’t wanted to explain his past to anyone, so he hadn’t gotten close.
That had changed through the years. People invited him to barbecues and holiday dinners. He had friends, just not intimate friends. He confided in no one, but he was respected because of the way he ran his businesses, honestly and competently.
Until recently it was all he’d wanted. Now he hungered for more. Intimacy, in particular. A friend he could really talk to. Oh, he could hang out with one of the McCoy or Falcon brothers—they were all friends on some level, but they had each other, a brother bond that he didn’t have. Or family of any kind, actually.
In a parking lot filled with pickup trucks, Kincaid was waiting in his own for Jessica to arrive. She’d insisted on driving up from Sacramento rather than his picking her up, which made sense, but he was kind of a throwback when it came to things like that. The man was supposed to pick up the woman for a date.
Not that this was a date, exactly. She was helping him out, that was all, but it still felt wrong to have her drive up on her own.
He spotted her baby blue Mercedes pulling into the lot and got out to meet her. Her car might be out of place at the Stompin’ Grounds, but she’d dressed perfectly in skin-tight blue jeans, boots and a pink western shirt. Her hair was dark, short and stylish, her eyes deep blue, and her body well toned. She was one of the most successful Realtors in northern California, and when he’d branched off from his contracting work into real estate, she’d mentored him. He owed her a lot, yet here she was, doing him a favor.
“Hello there, gorgeous,” she said, giving him a hug.
“Hello, yourself, beautiful.” They’d almost slept together once, a few years back. She’d just ended a longterm relationship and needed to know she was still attractive. He’d never regretted talking her out of it.
“So, I’m supposed to hang all over you, hmm?” she asked as they headed toward the building.
He smiled. “Not exactly. Just look interested.”
“Are you going to lay hands on me?”
“I plan to dance with you.”
She slipped her arm through his. “Dancing can be incredible foreplay, darlin’.”
“So I’ve heard.” He’d forgotten what she was like when she turned on the charm. He usually saw her in business mode.
“I don’t suppose they serve veggie burgers in this joint,” she said as they reached the door.
“Probably not. Their hamburgers are amazing, however.”
“Guess you’ll have to dance off the calories with me. I’m finding it a lot harder these days to keep my girlish figure.”
“Fishing for compliments, Jess?” He didn’t know how old she was. Maybe forty. “We both know you’re going to turn a lot of heads tonight.”
She grinned over her shoulder at him as they went inside. “Will you get jealous and fight over me?”
The sudden rush of noise prevented him from answering, but her words took him back to his earlier conversation with Shana about jealousy. No, he wouldn’t be jealous of Jess turning heads or even of her dancing with someone else. He’d never fought over a woman before. He’d seen enough fighting when he was growing up and preferred to use his wits to get him out of tight situations. But when it came to Shana? He felt differently, and he didn’t like that.
“Table or bar?” he shouted to Jessica.
“Bar.” Her eyes gleamed, taking it all in. The band was setting up. For the moment, the jukebox was at full volume and the conversation elevated to compensate for the noise.
He already wanted to go home.
Except he didn’t want to get home until Shana was in bed, didn’t want to answer any questions she might ask. She’d sent him off with a tensely cheerful goodbye. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to face her.
Creating the job for her was coming back to haunt him already. He couldn’t come and go at his own house anymore without Shana knowing the details of his life.
He and Jess made their way to the bar, found two seats then ordered a couple of beers and a menu.
“Do you know people here?” she asked.
His gaze swept the room. “Quite a few, yes.” He also noted a great deal of interest in him—and his date, he assumed. He’d expected talk. That was the point of this whole exercise, after all, to get people talking about him and the woman he was with, not about Shana moving in.
Tom, the bartender/owner, set their mugs in front of them. Kincaid lifted his then stopped before it reached his mouth as he saw who’d just arrived.
“This should be entertaining,” he muttered.
“What?” Jess asked.
“See the older couple that just came in? That’s Aggie McCoy, one of the town’s matriarchs. She’s the one we’ll have to put on a show for.”
“Who’s the attractive man with her?”
“Doc Saxon. He used to be the only doctor in the community, but he recently retired.” In fact, Shana’s brother, Gavin, had taken over his practice. Small town, Kincaid thought. Small world. He and Gavin had gone to high school together. “My guess is that Aggie found out I was bringing a date here tonight, so she made Doc come with her.”
“I don’t know. She’s flirting. I think she likes him.”
Kincaid studied the couple. Aggie’s husband had died years ago. Doc Saxon had been a widower for a while. They seemed like polar opposites, but when did that stop people?
Aggie headed straight to where Kincaid sat. “Heard you were gonna be here,” she said, then stuck her hand out to Jess. “Hi. I’m Aggie McCoy, and this is Jim Saxon.”
“Jessica Donnell.”
“I never realized you had a first name,” Kincaid said to Aggie’s date with a wink. “Do we call you Jim now instead of Doc?”
The lean, fit, seventy-four-year-old, with only slightly graying hair and kind eyes, smiled. “I’ll answer to either. I hear Shana and Emma have moved in with you.”
“Shana’s working for me. Emma came as part of the package.”
“I see. Well, we’ll leave you to your evening. Come on, Aggie. Let’s find a table.”
Aggie wasn’t done socializing. They greeted everyone in the room before finally sitting near the jukebox.
“They give me hope,” Jess said as her hamburger was set in front of her.
“Who?” Kincaid reached for the ketchup.
“Aggie and her doctor. They’re smitten. Isn’t that nice at their age?”
Kincaid still didn’t buy it. Doc and Aggie had known each other forever. Why would their relationship suddenly change?
“Oh, man!” Jess said after taking a bite of her burger. “This is really good.”
“Maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve eaten one.”
“Who cares? This was worth the drive.”
“And I wasn’t?”
She laid a hand on his cheek, looking to all the world like a tender gesture. “Since you won’t sleep with me, the answer is no.”
He laughed. He was enjoying himself, being out, listening to music, having dinner with a comfortable companion. The band started to play just about the time Kincaid and Jess finished eating, and they made their way to the small dance floor. Although the music was fast, they might as well be slow dancing, the space was so crowded.
He noticed Jess eyeing the pool table. More specifically, eyeing Big Dave Gunderson, a lumberjack of a man who owned a successful towing business and cleaned up well after hours. He and Jess were about as opposite as Aggie and Doc, Kincaid thought, yet they were flirting with their eyes.
“Shall we shoot some pool?” Jess shouted in Kincaid’s direction.
Who was he to get in the way of true love—or lust, probably, in this case? “Sure.”
An hour later the band played a slow dance. Big Dave and Jess danced together as Kincaid continued to play pool. He didn’t mind them dancing, but it was thwarting the goal of his evening out, so it irritated him. They could at least tone it down a little.
When it was his turn to shoot, he scratched, not hitting any ball on the table with his, which was humiliating.
Aggie came up beside him. “You upset about something, Kincaid?”
“My clumsiness,” he answered as his opponent took over the table.
“Your date and Big Dave seem kind of cozy,” Aggie said.
“It’s a free country.”
Aggie’s hearty laugh broke the sound barriers of the band. People turned and stared.
So much for keeping a low profile, Kincaid thought as Doc tugged Aggie away. Kincaid’s efforts to do Dixie a favor were having results he hadn’t anticipated, particularly public humiliation.
He plunked the end of his cue on the floor and leaned against it, ignoring the interest of the crowd.
Then he wondered for the twentieth time what Shana was doing on her first night in his house.
Shana debated whether to be in bed when Kincaid got home, as if she didn’t care what time he got in, or to be up watching television, which was what she wanted to do. She didn’t have a television of her own. The one at the apartment belonged to Dixie, and Shana had left it for Dylan.
Deciding she was too wound up to go to bed, she popped popcorn and chose a movie from Kincaid’s library of DVDs. She didn’t know how to start a fire, so she didn’t try, but she cozied into the living room sofa with her bowl and a blanket.
Just as the movie started, her cell phone rang.
“Hey, honey, it’s Aggie.”
“You sound like you’re at a ballgame.”
“You could call it a game. I’m at the Stompin’ Grounds.”
Questions popped into Shana’s head. She didn’t ask even one. “I hope you’re having a good time.”
“I am. It’s also been highly entertaining.”
Shana knew Aggie was just drawing out the suspense. “How nice for you. Who’d you go with?”
“Doc Saxon,” she answered, sounding distracted. “But that’s—”
“You and Doc are dating?”
“No, we’re not dating. I corralled him to come with me so I could watch Kincaid.”
“Tsk, tsk, Aggie. Now you’re spying?”
“Aren’t you interested?” Aggie asked, frustrated.
More than you’ll ever know. “Should I be? He’s my boss. I probably shouldn’t know too much about his personal life.” Now Shana was having fun, because she knew Aggie would tell her, no matter what she said.
“You live with him! You’re going to know everything about his personal life.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
Aggie finally laughed. “You’re pulling my leg. I get it now. Anyway, it’s all been fascinating here.”
“In what way?”
“Kincaid brought this woman, kind of pretty, but older than him and looks like a lady who’s the boss of something. In charge, you know?”
Did they hold hands? Dance close? Kiss?
“So, this woman, Jess, she starts a flirtation with Big Dave over a game of pool, then they dance, all slathered up against each other, and Kincaid’s at the pool table himself, so mad he scratches his next shot. Then as soon as the dance is over, Jess moseys on up to Kincaid and whispers in his ear, and they leave. Not holding hands or anything, either. So, I followed them out to the parking lot.”
“Against my pleading,” Doc called out in the background. “Nosy woman.”
“How else could I find out anything? Anyway,” Aggie went on, “they stood out there talking for a minute, then she got in her fancy little blue Mercedes Benz convertible, but she didn’t go anywhere. Kincaid got in his truck and took off. Pretty soon, Big Dave comes out and she follows him down the road!”
Shana was stuck between being happy that the date didn’t go well and sympathy for Kincaid. No one wanted to be rejected in public.
And he’d done it because she’d made him. Guilt settled around her.
“Have you been dancing with Doc?” Shana asked, not wanting to know if there was more.
After a couple of beats, Aggie said, “He’s light on his feet.”
“Have you got white-coat syndrome, Aggie?”
“What’s that?”
“When your blood pressure rises upon seeing the doctor.”
Aggie cackled. “Maybe. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a night out with anyone other than family,” she said more seriously.
“Well, you go, girlfriend. Enjoy it. And him.”
They ended the call. Shana tried to snuggle in and watch the movie but she found herself waiting for the sound of Kincaid’s truck. It was a ten-minute drive from the bar to his house. He must’ve gone somewhere else, although nothing was open this time of night other than the diner, at least in town.
An hour passed. The movie didn’t grab her interest, but she left it running so that if he came home, it would look as if she’d had a perfectly nice evening. Finally the sound of his truck reached her. She tucked her blanket around her a little more and picked up the half-full bowl of popcorn she’d set on the coffee table. It was only ten o’clock, early to be home from a Saturday night date by anyone’s measure.
She waited until he came into the house before she paused the movie.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully, refraining from asking how his night was.
“Hey.” He hung up his jacket on the coatrack, then went to the fireplace. “No fire?” he asked.
“I was never a Boy Scout.”
He nodded. “I’ll teach you. It’s one of the pleasures of this house, I think. What’re you watching?”
“The original Rambo.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that was something you’d choose.”
“Your choice of DVDs is action and more action. Anyway, the movie came out when I was a baby. I hadn’t seen it.”
He patiently got the fire going. The silence in the room seemed loud, a hum of discomfort permeating the space.
“You haven’t asked how my evening was,” he said, poking at the logs, but it seemed to be just a reason to keep his back to her and his hands busy.
“I didn’t want to intrude.”
He laughed, a little harshly, she thought.
“As if I don’t know that Aggie hasn’t already called you,” he said. “I saw her lurking in the shadows in the parking lot.”
Shana sighed. “I didn’t ask her to file a report with me, but—” she shrugged “—you know Aggie.”
“I won’t do that again, Shana.”
“Do what?”
“Take a woman out as a ruse. If I take someone out, it’ll be because it’s what I want to do. I don’t care what people think about us. Tonight wasn’t worth it.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I just didn’t want there to be talk about us.”
“I know.” He sat at the other end of the sofa. “There’ll be talk, regardless. All we can do is ignore it.”
“And show them it isn’t true.”
“Right.” He stared at the fire. “So, how was your evening?”
“It was nice. Emma and I played and read books. She loved the bath toys you put in her tub for her.” The man was killing her with kindness. “Thank you.”
“Kids need toys.”
“You seem to have spent the week preparing for us to arrive. You gave it a lot of thought.”
“I’m a planner,” he said.
“I’ve become one, too.”
“I know.” He smiled a little. “Maybe we’ve always butted heads because we’re too much alike.”
“Maybe.” If it had been anyone else, she would’ve chalked it up to unresolved sexual attraction. But this was Kincaid. She couldn’t afford the attraction. “And then there’s Aggie and Doc Saxon, who are opposites. That was a surprise to hear they were together.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure that was just a ploy so that she had an excuse to take a look at my date.”
“Still, isn’t it fun to think about? Aggie’s been alone a long time. Who knows what might happen?” She passed him the bowl of popcorn. “Want to watch the rest of the movie? There’s about fifteen minutes left.”
“Sure.”
She started the movie again, aware of him at the other end of the couch, eating popcorn, as if they were an old married couple. He got up once to stoke the fire. When he sat down, he tugged her blanket over her feet, wrapping them up.
She felt as if he’d hugged her.
What might seem to be a small gesture to him mattered a lot to her. He didn’t want her to get cold. It’d been so long since anyone had cared like that.
Dangerous thinking, she realized. And she was jumping to conclusions. He’d been kind to Emma, too.
The movie ended.
“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked as he ejected the DVD and put it away.
“I’m going to drive to Sacramento to do a little shopping. I want to personalize Emma’s and my rooms a little.”
“Want company?”
She couldn’t hide her shock. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m thinking you need a new car. You could pick out what you want.”
The silence returned, louder than ever. “You’re buying me a car?” she asked finally.
“A company car, but yours to use as long as you’re working for me.”
“Mine will do just fine,” she said, standing and bunching up the blanket to take with her, not taking time to fold it.
He stood, too. “Your car is junkyard material.”
“It’s been getting me to work and back just fine for a year.”
“Has it? I heard you borrowed Dixie’s car several times.”
“She asked me to. She didn’t want it to sit idle the whole time they were gone.” Which was the truth, but Shana had only borrowed it when she was having trouble with her own car.
Kincaid crossed his arms. “I need you to have a reliable car so I know you’ll get to appointments on time. A lot of these jobs are out of town. Some are as far away as Lake Tahoe. We’re coming into winter. There’ll be rain and snow to contend with.”
She was being foolish not to accept his offer. She prided herself on her punctuality and reliability, but more than that, having a decent car to haul Emma around mattered more than anything.
“There’s no need to get me a new car,” she said, giving in but on her own terms. “Used would be fine.”
“You can choose the car, but since I’m paying for it, it’ll be new because that’s my preference. Quit being stubborn.”
She was fascinated by how his jaw twitched when he was annoyed. She almost reached out to run her fingers along his skin to soothe him. “You’re the boss.”
“Yes, I am.”
She almost laughed. He thought she was stubborn? Ha.
“On that note, I’ll say good-night.” She climbed the stairs, knowing he was staring after her, probably wondering what she was up to, not arguing back. She figured he’d had enough upset for one night at her expense.
Tomorrow, however, was another day.