A Maverick's Christmas Homecoming. Teresa Southwick
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“Please.”
After filling her glass and setting plates on the table, he held the chair for her to sit down. If a guy had ever done that before, she couldn’t remember. Then he sat across from her. The star lilies and baby’s breath with candles in crystal holders on either side gave it all a romantic feel.
Suddenly her appetite disappeared, but she was here to eat and figured she’d better do that. She took a bite of the chicken and the flavors exploded on her tongue. “Oh, my. That is so good. It’s like a party in my mouth and I thought only chocolate could do that.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“What’s in here?” She chewed and swallowed. “Can you tell me or would you have to kill me?” At his wicked look she shrugged. “Bad-boy rep, remember? CIA. Fire. Sharp stuff.”
“I’ll make an exception for you.” He picked through the food on his plate. “Chicken. Asparagus. Mushrooms.”
“This looks like rice, but the consistency is wrong.”
“It’s risotto.”
“Ah.” The gleam in his eyes started pressure in the vicinity of her chest and she hoped it was nothing more than pre-indigestion.
They ate in silence for several moments before he said, “So how was growing up in Thunder Canyon?”
“It was great, but keep in mind that I didn’t know anything else.” She put down her fork and wiped her mouth on the cloth napkin. “The pace is slower here and kids don’t need to grow up so fast.”
“It’s slower for grown-ups, too.”
Gianna nodded. “Not everyone is happy about that. Maintaining the balance between status quo and development has been and probably still is a source of conflict here in town.”
That started a discussion about everything from population growth to weather to large holiday groups scheduled at The Gallatin Room the following week. It was interesting to hear about restaurant management, all that went into a successful business besides just preparing food. Time seemed to both fly and stand still.
Finally Shane looked at her. “Would you like more?”
“No, thanks.” Her plate was empty and she was so full. “I guess guinea pig was the correct term.”
“I don’t think so. Clearly you enjoyed the food. In some cultures burping is high praise and a compliment to the chef.”
“And in some parts of the country it’s a competitive sport.”
He laughed, then stood and picked up his plate. She followed his lead and carried hers into the kitchen, where he took it from her and set them in the sink.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Nothing. You’re a guest and I have a housekeeper. Why don’t we sit in the living room?”
“Okay.” But when they walked in, the tall windows were filled with the sight of lights winking in the valley below and she walked over. “That is a pretty amazing view.”
“I think so. Would you like to see it from the balcony?”
“Oh, yes.” She might never have another chance.
Shane opened the French door, then let her precede him outside. The cold air hit her immediately, but when they moved to the railing and he stood beside her, his nearness and the warmth from his body took the edge off.
“Oh, Shane, this is so stunning. Is it always like this?”
“Well, the mountains are permanent and don’t change.”
“Duh.”
He grinned down at her, then pointed. “See the spotlights over there? That’s the slopes and they’re always illuminated for night skiing. But in the last few days since Thanksgiving, people are putting up Christmas decorations so everything is even more beautiful.”
She glanced at him. “There’s something in your voice, an awe, a respect, as if you’re whispering in church.”
“It kind of feels that way,” he admitted. “There’s a sense of being in the presence of God. The natural beauty here …”
“Speaks to your heart?”
“Yeah. I do love it. Especially on a night like this.”
She looked up at the moon and stars. “I don’t know what’s more beautiful, the sky above or valley below.”
“Maybe it isn’t either one.”
There was a raspy quality in his voice that made her look at him. Their gazes locked and his sparked with heat and intensity. His shoulders were wide, his arms strong. Suddenly she was filled with an ache to feel them around her. She wanted to be dessert.
As if Shane could read her thoughts, his mouth inched toward hers and again time stood still.
Until it didn’t.
One second passed with him just standing there, then two before he backed away even though the expression in his eyes hadn’t changed. “It’s getting late. I should probably see you to your car.”
Gianna blinked up at him wondering what just happened. She wasn’t so out of practice that she didn’t know when a man was going to kiss her, and Shane had been about to do that. Something had changed his mind, but darned if she knew what it was. But clearly she’d been dismissed for unknown reasons.
“It is getting late. I’ll just get my coat.”
Shane got her things, and if the atmosphere at the restaurant was as awkward as the walk down to where she’d parked her wreck of a car, work was going to be even less fun than being one waitress short while feeding the Swiss delegation.
Chapter Two
Three days later Gianna was stewing in The Gallatin Room kitchen, which was ironically appropriate. It had been three nights since Shane had made dinner for her at his place. Three nights of seeing him at the restaurant where they both worked and he hadn’t said a word to her—not about work, not even about things other than work. Even a hello, how are you, wasn’t in his repertoire. In fact he was going out of his way to ignore her and she didn’t understand why.
She also didn’t have time to think about it. Waitresses were hurrying in and out of the kitchen with orders and busboys handled trays of dirty dishes, utensils and glassware. It was busy and noisy and she was putting together a basket of bread for the order she’d just taken. Shane stood by the stove concentrating on sautéing seafood over a hot flame. She stared at his back and felt like a lovelorn idiot, but she couldn’t help it. When he was in a room her gaze automatically searched him out.
He,