I’ve tried hard to teach Sam to never do. And I’m frankly ashamed of myself for it.”
“Don’t be. I promise, it’s my deliberate intent to look the way I do, to convey the image that look conveys. It’s who I am.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t start every sentence by saying, ‘Hi, I’m famous. Have you heard of me?’ the way that other guy does.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your success, pal,” Gabe said, even as Carrie was opening her mouth to correct her son.
“Then why don’t you act like you are?” Sam asked.
“My values, my choice,” Gabe replied easily. “Doesn’t mean I get to force them on anyone else, much less judge them for their own. Shoot, I don’t believe in big, flashy vehicles, either. For me, they just don’t fit. But I wouldn’t even think about telling you to sell yours and buy an old VW. Because for you, that wouldn’t fit.”
Sam nodded. “I got you.”
“Good.” Gabe turned to Carrie. “Have your dinner with Ambrose if you want. My feelings won’t be hurt in the least.”
She met his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
She blinked, and felt right down to her toes that she would far rather spend the evening getting to know Gabe. And yet that practical part of her mind whispered that Ambrose was a whole lot closer to what she wanted. And that Gabe was the epitome of everything she didn’t want.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that his feelings would be hurt.”
“I think I agree with you.”
She held his gaze, and something tingled along the back of her neck. “You do?”
“Yeah. He seems to put a lot of stock in ego. And being turned down would be a blow to his.”
She nodded, glancing at Ambrose, who was in an apparently fascinating conversation with Sadie. The girl was clearly wise enough to know that he was the topic of discussion and that she should keep him distracted until they had finished.
God, she loved that girl.
“You’re welcome to go back to the house with the kids, Gabe,” she said. “If I let Sam miss the opportunity to, uh, jam with his hero, I’ll lose out on that mother-of-the-year nomination yet again.”
Sam rolled his eyes at her corny joke, but there was love and appreciation in them, too.
“I’ll try to get home early,” she said. “Maybe if you guys can hold off on dessert, we could all have it together when I get back.”
Gabe lifted his brows. “Really?”
She shrugged. “It’s not every day a girl has a rock star in her house.”
“Just a songwriter,” he said. “I only play for pleasure.”
“Even better.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Even though you should know I prefer country music myself.”
“Sammy Gold. I know.”
“Oh, my son has been talking, hasn’t he?”
Gabe nodded. “Ambrose is getting antsy,” he said. “Come on, Sam, let’s collect that girl of yours, and you can guide me back to the hacienda.”
“Sam, check on Rose for me when you get home, will you?” Carrie interjected, even as Gabe and Sam began to walk away.
“Sure.”
And then Gabe said, “Rose?” and Sam leaned closer, and began to tell him who she was as they moved on. Sam waved a hand at Sadie, never breaking his stream of words, and she smiled, said goodbye to Ambrose and headed to join them. Gabe got into his bus, Sadie and Sam got into the Sam’s treasured Expedition, and Carrie moved up to stand beside Ambrose.
“Sorry about the delay,” she said. “But yes, I’d love to have dinner with you. I just had to work out some logistics first.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad,” Ambrose said. “I saw a lovely restaurant with a view of the falls the other day. God, what was the name?”
“Fallsview,” she said with a smile.
“Oh. Now how did I forget that?”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll just let you know in advance that it’ll have to be an early night for me.”
“Those logistics, hmm?” he asked.
“I’m afraid they can only be shuffled so far.”
“That’s fine. Honestly. I’ll be grateful for the company. But, um, since you have to leave early, why don’t we take separate vehicles to the restaurant and just meet there?”
“That is an eminently practical suggestion,” Carrie said. “I like the way you think.”
“Thank you,” he said, and then he stood there, silent for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other, until he finally said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you there.”
He took out his keys, looked at them, looked at her, looked at his car, then turned and walked away.
Being awkward with women, she told herself, was not a character flaw. It was actually endearing in a way.
And yet it wasn’t the upcoming dinner on her mind as Carrie drove through the tiny, quiet town toward the falls and the restaurant. It was Gabriel Cain. The quiet, unpretentious, apparently famous songwriter was not at all what he had first seemed. Not at all.
And she wondered what other facets of his personality remained as yet unrevealed. She was dying to talk to him, to listen to him talk back.
Not to mention use Google to see what came up.
She wished to the gods that Ambrose Peck was as appealing to her as the songwriter. But sex appeal wasn’t everything. She knew that. And in every other way, Ambrose was exactly her type.
Just like the last respectable, solid, intellectual she’d dated had seemed to be, she told herself, though she tried not to listen. She’d wasted a couple of months on that jackass.
Oh, well. Live and learn.
4
Ambrose didn’t wait for her in the parking lot. She found that a little odd but shrugged it off as she got out of her car and looked around. The building was made of darkly stained, rough-hewn barn beams and glass, and not much else. It made for the best view in town. Not seeing Ambrose anywhere, she went on inside.
She spotted him at a table near the back, perusing the menu. She noticed
