Lori Foster - Forever Buckhorn - Gabe

“Whatdya want Gabe for?” That suspicious tone was from Rosemary, bless her sweet little heart, and Gabe vowed to take her to dinner real soon.

There was a beat of silence, then, “I have personal business to discuss with him.”

Oh, great, Gabe thought. That’ll get the gossip going. What the hell kind of personal business could he have with a woman he didn’t know? And he was certain he didn’t know her. She didn’t sound at all familiar.

“Well, he’s right there, but he’s relaxin’, and he won’t thank you none for disturbing him.”

“I appreciate your warning.”

Well used to the soft thud of sneakers or bare feet on the wooden planks of the dock, Gabe almost winced when the clack of hard-soled shoes rang over the water. He ignored it, and ignored the woman he could feel hesitating next to his lawn chair. The breeze stirred and he caught a light feminine scent, not really perfume, but maybe scented shampoo. He breathed deeply, but otherwise remained still.

He heard her clear her throat. “Uh…excuse me?”

She didn’t sound so confident, and he waited, wondering if she’d shake him awake. He felt her hesitate, knew in his gut she was reaching for his naked shoulder…

And the fishing pole nearly leaped out of his hand.

“Son of a bi—” Gabe jolted upright, barely managing to hang on to his expensive rod and reel. His feet hit the dock and he deftly maneuvered the rod, going with the action of the fish. “Damn, it’s a big one!”

Rosemary, Darlene and Ceily all ran over to his side.

“I’ll grab the net!” Rosemary said.

Ceily, who usually worked the diner in town, squealed as the fish, a big ugly carp, flipped up out the water. Darlene pressed to his back, peering over his shoulder.

Gabe slid over the side of the dock to the smooth, slick, moss-covered concrete boat ramp, bracing his legs wide to keep his balance while he struggled with the fish. Rosemary, a fisherwoman of long standing, didn’t hesitate to slip in beside him. She held the net at the ready. Just as Gabe got the carp close enough, she scooped him with the net. The fish looked to weigh a good fifteen pounds, and she struggled with it while Gabe tried to reach for the net and hold onto his pole.

But then Rosemary lost her footing and Gabe made a grab for her and they both went down, splashing and cursing and laughing, too. The rod jerked out of his hands and he dove forward to grab it, barely getting ahold and soaking himself thoroughly in the process. The other two women leaped in to help, all of them struggling to keep the fish and the rod while roaring with hilarity.

When the battle was over, Gabe had his fish, and a woman, in his lap. Rosemary had settled herself there while Darlene and Ceily hung on him, both struggling to control their raucous laughter. He’d known all three of them since grade school, so it wasn’t the first time they’d played in the water; they felt totally familiar with each other and it showed. A long string of seaweed clung to the top of Gabe’s head, and that started the women giggling again.

Gabe, enjoying himself, unhooked the big fish, kissed it—making the women smack at him—then tossed it back.

It was then they heard the tap, tap, tap of that damned hard-soled shoe.

Turning as one, they all peered at the woman who Gabe only then remembered. He had to shade his eyes against the hot sun to see, and it wasn’t easy with three women draped over his body.

Silhouetted by the sunshine, her long hair looked like ruby fire. And he’d never in his life seen so many freckles on a woman before. She wore a crisp white blouse, a long jean skirt and black pumps with nylons. Nylons in this heat? Gabe blinked. “Can I help you with somethin’, sugar?”

Her lips tightened and her arms crossed over her middle. “I don’t think so. I was looking for Gabriel Kasper.”

“That’d be me.”

“But…I was looking for Gabriel, the town hero.”

Darlene grinned hugely. “That’s our Gabe!”

Ceily added, “The one and only.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That’s nonsense and you all know it.”

The women all started in at once, Ceily, Rosemary and Darlene assuring him he was all that was heroic and wonderful and more.

Little Red merely stared in absolute disbelief. “You mean, you are the one who rescued those swimmers?”

He gently lifted Rosemary off his lap and cautiously stood on the slick concrete. The women had gone silent now, and Gabe could see why. While they looked downright sexy in their colorful bikinis, loose hair and golden tans, this woman looked like the stern, buttoned-up supervisor of a girls’ prep school. And she was glaring at them all, as if she’d caught them having an orgy in the lake, rather than just romping.

Gabe, always the gentleman, boosted each woman to the dock, then deftly hauled himself out. He shook like a mongrel dog, sending lake water flying in cold droplets. The woman quickly backed up two steps.

Rosemary plucked the seaweed from his hair and he grinned at her. “Thanks, sweetie. Ah, would you gals mind if I talk to…” He lifted a brow at Red.

“Elizabeth Parks,” she answered stiffly. She clutched a notepad and pencil and had a huge purselike bag slung over one shoulder, stuffed to overflowing with papers.

“Yeah, can I have a minute with Ms. Parks?” He had the sneaking suspicion Ms. Parks was another reporter, and he had no intention of chatting with her for more time than it took to say thanks but no thanks. “I won’t be long.”

“All right, Gabe, but you owe us for rescuing your fish.”

“That I do. And I promise to think up some appropriate compensation.”

Giggling again, the women started away, dragging their feet every step, sashaying their sexy behinds. But then two boats pulled in and he knew that would keep them busy selling gas and bait and whatever other supplies the vacationers wanted. He turned to Red.

“What can I do for you?”

Now, without the sun in his eyes, Gabe could see she had about the bluest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They stood out like beacons among all that bright red hair and those abundant freckles.

She flipped open her bag and dragged out a folded newspaper. Turning it toward him, she asked, still with a twinge of disbelief, “Is this you?”

She sounded suspicious, but Gabe didn’t even have to glance at the paper. Buckhorn, Kentucky was a small town, and they looked for any excuse at all to celebrate. The town paper, Buckhorn Press, had used the changing of a traffic light for front-page news once, so it was no wonder they’d stuck him in there for a spell when he helped fish a few swimmers out of the path of an unmanned boat. It hadn’t been even close to an act of heroism, but if changing traffic lights was important, human endangerment was outright momentous.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Gabe reached for his mirrored sunglasses and slipped them on, then dragged both hands, fingers spread, over his head to smooth his wet hair. He stuck his cap on backward then looked at the woman again. With the shades in place, he could check her over a little better without her knowing.

But the clothing she wore made seeing much impossible. She had to be roasting in that thick denim and starched cotton.

She cleared her throat. “Well, if it’s really true, then I’d like to interview you.”

Gabe leaned around her, which made her blue eyes widen, and fetched a can of cola from the cooler sitting beside his empty chair. “You want one?”

“Uh, no, thank you.” She hastily stepped back, avoiding getting too close to him. That nettled.

After popping the tab on the can and downing half of it, Gabe asked, “What paper do you write for?”

“Oh. No, I don’t—”

“Because I’m not interested in being interviewed again. Every damn paper for a hundred miles around picked up on that stupid story, and they blew it all out of proportion. Folks around here are finally about done razzing me, my damn brothers included, and I’m not at all interested in resurrecting that ridiculous business again.”