Christyne Butler - The Sheriff's Secret Wife

Whoa, back up!

The waitress with the full tray turned. Gage registered her trim figure and long dark hair, but missing was the usual ponytail and glasses. That was no waitress. That was his sister.

“Wow, look at you!”

Racy felt more than heard the voice over her shoulder, thanks to the rocking country music. She turned and found her best friend, Maggie Stevens, soon to be Maggie Cartwright, standing behind her.

She shot a quick glance down at her outfit while moving to the end of the bar. “Yeah, look at me.”

Maggie reached out, her fingers brushing at the fringe. “I love this! I’d never be able to pull it off, but on you …”

“Looks can be deceiving. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“What’s up with you behind the bar? You usually let the girls run the show.”

“I’m trying to stay warm.”

Confusion filled Maggie’s eyes for a moment, then she smiled. “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?”

“Oh, come on. Tell me you’re not wearing that for a certain hunky sheriff.”

Thankful when one of the bartenders called her name, Racy ducked back behind the three feet of wood. She tossed the requested bottle of whiskey to Jackie, confident her assistant manager would catch it. She took an extra minute to ensure her face was devoid of any expression before she turned back.

“What sheriff?”

Maggie leaned in. “Look, I know I’ve been distracted with the wedding—”

“And you have every right to be.” Racy cut her off. “You waited a long time for the right man to come along. You deserve to be distracted … and happy.”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time to listen.”

“To what?”

“You’ve been quiet—too quiet—about Gage since you two got back from Vegas.”

“You sound like we were there together.” It took all Racy’s strength not to look up to the balcony. She knew he was there. Never mind the fact she hadn’t seen him. “Besides, I told you we ran into each other a few times in the hotel. That’s it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you have other things to worry about?” Racy latched on to the topic most likely to be on her best friend’s mind, her upcoming wedding. “Like my bridesmaid’s dress?”

Maggie smiled. “You haven’t read your mail today?”

Racy shook her head. The only letter she’d had time to read today was the one Gage had given her. A lot of legal double-talk that came to the same conclusion.

She and the sheriff were still legally man and wife.

The date on the notice was over two weeks old. She’d fumed that he’d known about this mess for that long and only told her today, after he’d found out about his sister taking a job here.

“No, I was working with a new waitress and one emergency after another happened in the kitchen this afternoon.”

“I put a note in your wedding invitation. The dresses are all set except for the final fitting. You’re going to knock him for a loop when he sees you.”

“Knock who?”

Maggie grinned then said, “Of course, it doesn’t quite have the flair of this outfit. I think something’s brewing—”

“The only thing brewing is a wicked headache,” Racy paused when the band announced it was taking a break. She hit the switch on the bar’s stereo system and recorded music filled the air. “And a good case of frostbite.”

“Okay, I give up. You got any plans for tomorrow?”

Racy shook her head. “Nope. What’s up?”

“How about getting with Leeann for lunch around noon?”

“Are you sure the good deputy is going to show? She’s blown us off more times than I can count.”

Maggie nodded and Racy read worry in her gaze over their best friend. “She’s the one who suggested it. Did you know whoever bought her family’s land last year finally tore down the remains of the house?”

“There wasn’t much left after the fire.”

“And still Leeann held on to it. I think selling was the best thing she’s done in a long time. But to know someone is building there again …”

Racy frowned as Maggie’s voice faded. Their friend’s childhood home, an antebellum-style mansion, was situated on the side of a mountain surrounded by acres of land. When a fire had destroyed the house five years ago, many had been surprised Leeann didn’t sell outright, or rebuild when she’d finally moved back to town.

“Maybe the corporation that bought it is going to make it into some kind of resort. Anyway, count me in.” Racy noticed the arrival of Maggie’s fiancé, Landon Cartwright, as he strolled through the archway leading from the main entrance. “Hey, your honey just walked in. Who’s the cowboy with him?”

Pure joy filled Maggie’s expression before she looked over her shoulder. Racy was happy for her friend. If anyone deserved to be loved by a good man it was Maggie.

“That’s Chase, my future brother-in-law.” Maggie turned back. “He’s here for the wedding.”

Racy took in the man’s tall frame and wide shoulders. He was a few inches shorter than Landon, but shared the same sharp facial features and dark skin, even in the dead of winter. He filled out his cotton shirt and jeans nicely, drawing more than a few feminine glances his way.

She waited for the zing of attraction. Nothing. Why was it no man stole the air from her lungs? Or made all the interesting parts of her body turn to mush?

Nowadays, only one man made her feel anything, and at the moment it was pure loathing. And to get back at that man, Chase Cartwright would be perfect for what she had in mind.

“Do you think he’d be up for a little fun?”

“Why? What are you planning?”

She nodded toward the bar. “I think it’s time for another Racy Special.”

“Are you serious? You haven’t done one in months after that last guy—e www! That was not fun to watch.”

“I swore that one was going to be my last, but something’s come up—anyway, my tip jar is getting low.” Racy slipped a folded bill into Maggie’s hand. “Here, give this to your brother-in-law and explain how it works, okay? I don’t want to take his money.”

“Why do I get the feeling this has to do with Gage?”

“Because you’re too smart for your own good.” Racy grinned. “Go on, your family’s waiting. And be nice to your waitress. She’s new.”

Maggie eyed the young girl at their table. “She looks familiar.”

“That’s Gina Steele.” Racy grabbed the microphone from behind the bar.

“Gage’s sister? The whiz kid?”

“That’s her.”

“First his sister—” Maggie waved at the bar “—and now this? I thought you said Gage hasn’t been inhere in a while.”

“I said I haven’t seen him here.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I’m going to ply you with margaritas at my bachelorette party to get the whole scoop on this,” Maggie whispered, then turned and headed for her fiancé.

Yeah, like she was going to spill how too much booze and an old dream had caused her to make the biggest mistake of her life.

Racy locked down any Vegas memories before they could surface. A trick she was getting pretty good at lately.

She brushed a hand against the trophy, a physical reminder of what really mattered. A quick yank on a few well-placed bobby pins, and her hair fell past her shoulders. She whispered her plans to her fellow bartender and, thanks to a step stool and the vertical cooler, stood on the L-shaped bar.

A piercing whistle got everyone’s attention. She rarely got up here anymore, preferring to stick to choreographing the Belles’ dance routines.

Tonight was different. With her back to the balcony, she couldn’t see the man who technically had been her husband for the last five months, but her skin tingled.