Chapter 10: John

Chapter 10 – John

Monday morning, I meet up with Gabrielle in the restaurant. While she’s helping out with breakfast, I grab a quick bite and a cup of coffee. “Have you eaten?” I ask her. “It’s a long drive. You should eat first.”

“I’ve eaten,” she assures me. “I’ll be ready to go in just a sec. I just need to grab my purse.”

As we head out to my truck, I say, “You sure look nice.”

Gabrielle’s dressed up in a black skirt, a white silky top, and a cream-colored jacket. Her hair is up in some type of complicated bun, and she’s wearing those gold hoop earrings again.

“Very professional,” I add.

She looks pleased by the compliment. “Thanks,” she says as I help her up into the truck cab. She lays a slim black leather purse with a long gold chain strap on her lap. “I want the sales person to pay attention to me. They won’t if I look like I don’t have a big enough budget to work with.”

“I see.” Not really. But damn, she looks amazing. How can she look like a fresh-faced goddess and a polished career woman at the same time?

It’s an hour-long drive to Denver. We chat the entire time about everything from the lodge to horses to Gabrielle’s life back in Chicago.

“Do you miss it?” I ask. “Chicago? And your friends?”

She nods. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But I’m also really enjoying the lodge and meeting new people. I’m excited about the restaurant. It’s a blank slate, and I get to shape what it turns into.”

We arrive at our destination and cross the parking lot as we head for the entrance. As I stare up at a huge warehouse building, I realize we’re here for more than just pots and pans. “So, what’s on your shopping list?”

“Pretty much everything,” she says. “I need to bring that kitchen into the twenty-first century.”

I rush forward to open the door for Gabrielle.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but the moment we enter the place, we’re swarmed by two salesmen, both vying for her attention. I wonder if they work on commission or if they’re just waiting on her because she’s pretty.

Another man, dressed in a suit and tie, shows up and shoos the first two away. “I’m Kyle, the sales manager here. How can I assist you today, Ms—”

“Hunter.” She pulls a small notebook out of her purse. “I’m renovating a restaurant, and I need pretty much everything.”

Kyle’s dark eyes widen. “I can help you with that, of course. Where do you want to start?”

She reads from her list. “Industrial sinks with sprayers, dishwashers, refrigerators—both for the kitchen and for customer self-serve—a glass top display freezer, a bakery case, stainless steel food prep station, four gas ranges, three griddles, four deep fryers, two commercial ovens, mixers, and meat slicers.” She grins. “I warned you—it’s a long list.”

The sales manager’s eyes are round as saucers, and I imagine he’s calculating his commission. “It sounds like you’re starting from the ground up,” he says.

Gabrielle nods. “Pretty much.”

He gestures for us to follow him. “Let’s get started, then.”

I follow Gabrielle through the showroom as Kyle shows her the appliances she’s looking for. Of course she doesn’t need me, but I don’t want to leave her alone. “Kyle, do you work on commission?” I ask.

Sheepishly, he nods.

As he makes note of everything she picks out, I’m thinkin’ he’s gonna make bank on today’s transaction. Based on these prices, he’ll probably pocket enough to buy himself a new car. It’s his lucky day.

As I follow them, I listen to her talk. She clearly knows what she wants for the kitchen. She’s assertive and confident, and I can’t help but be impressed.

By the time we’ve been at it for a couple of hours, my left leg aches something awful. Standing around on these hard concrete floors isn’t doing it any good. I try to stretch my leg muscles when Gabrielle’s not looking.

Finally, she says she has everything she needs. We return to Kyle’s desk, and he writes up the order. When he reads her the total, I about crap my pants. Damn.

Gabrielle writes him a check for the deposit. The balance will be paid upon delivery and installation.

“Outfitting a restaurant sure is expensive,” I say as we exit the building.

“It sure is,” she says. “I’m just glad it’s not my money. Hannah’s brother, Shane, is funding the renovations, and well, he has very deep pockets.”

Once we’re on the road, I realize I’m starving. And if I’m hungry, Gabrielle probably is, too. “How about we stop for lunch?” I ask. “There are plenty of nice restaurants in Denver. I thought you might like to try one.”

She grins at me. “I’d love to. Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“Not really. Since you’re new here, why don’t you choose?”

She pulls out her phone and starts searching the reviews for local restaurants. “How about tacos? I could really go for some good tacos. I found a promising place nearby. It’s just fifteen minutes away.”

“Sounds good,” I say. “I can always eat tacos.”

She calls up GPS directions. Fifteen minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of what looks like a real dive.

Gabrielle frowns as she studies the exterior of the building. Then she glances down at her phone and reads one of the reviews aloud. “Don’t be deceived by the crappy appearance of the place. It may look rundown, but the food is guaranteed epic. And, they offer a ton of local craft beers. Five stars all the way.”

Just as she says that, a group of six guys walk into the restaurant. “Good enough for me,” I say as I shut off the engine. It looks like we’re staying.

My leg protests angrily when I step out of the truck, and I have to grit my teeth. Maybe I can sneak in some over-the-counter pain pills along with my lunch. I refuse to take the prescription stuff.

We arrived at the perfect time—just after the lunch rush—so we’re seated pretty quickly at a table for two next to a window.

A server brings us a basket of warm tortilla chips and a bowl of fresh, homemade salsa. “Do you folks know what you want?” the young man asks. When he catches a glimpse of my face, he does an obvious double-take. Gabrielle must have noticed, too, because I see her wince.

I turn my head slightly so the kid can’t see the left side of my face.

An awkward silence follows as we order our food—two taco platters and two Cokes.

“Why don’t you take off your hat?” Gabrielle asks as our server walks away. “You have nothing to hide.”

Is she nuts? “I don’t need folks starin’ at me like I’m a freak from a horror movie.”

“You’re not a freak,” she says, clearly offended by the thought. “You’re actually a very handsome man.” She picks up a chip and dips it in the salsa. “Very.”

“Are you blind?”

She chuckles. “No. I’m a woman, and we know these things. You should trust me. You’re a very attractive man, John.”

I find myself grinning as I reach for a tortilla chip. When she’s distracted by a baby crying two tables over, I pop a pain pill.

“Does your leg hurt?” she asks. “I noticed you were limping earlier.”

I nod. “From all that walking on concrete.” I stretch my leg out beneath the table and wince at the tightness. Despite the added pain, I run the heel of my palm up and down my thigh, pressing firmly into the sore tissue. “I haven’t been stretching enough lately.”

“You should have told me you were in pain. I could have cut the trip short.”

I grab another chip. “No, it’s all right.” I can feel her gaze on me.

“You don’t have to be a tough guy, you know,” she says. “My dad was forced to retire from medicine after he had a stroke. He was in a wheelchair shortly after that. I know it’s not the same thing, but I understand.”

I look away, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t need your pity, Gabrielle.”

“It’s not pity,” she says. “I care about you—your discomfort. Have you tried massage? It helped my dad a lot.”

I shake my head, but before I can answer, our server brings us our food, putting a quick end to an uncomfortable conversation.

The food is indeed epic, just as the reviewer claimed. The soft tacos are flavorful, as are the refried beans and the rice.

Our server stops by to hand me the check. “I’ll take that whenever you’re ready,” he says. “No rush.”

Gabrielle leans forward and holds out her hand after our server walks away. “I’ll buy lunch. It’s my way of saying thank you for driving me all the way out here.”

I reach into my back pocket for my wallet. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

She sits back in her chair and frowns. “I really wish you’d let me pay.”

I meet her very determined gaze. “The man should pay.”

“This isn’t a date,” she says.

“No, it’s not. But still—”

“You’re not being sexist, are you?” She sounds serious, but I see amusement in her eyes.

“No, it’s just—the man pays. That’s all.”

“Fine,” she says. She finishes her soft drink. “The next one’s on me.”

The next what? I wonder. The next meal? “This isn’t a date, Gabrielle.”

Her smile falters. “I didn’t mean to imply it was.”

After I pay, we head out to the truck. She’s unusually quiet on the drive back.

When we arrive, I pull up to the front doors of the lodge. She reaches for her door handle.

I reach out in her direction, stopping short of touching her. “Gabrielle, wait.”

She pauses. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry if I was an ass earlier. I spend most of my time with horses or the guys. I’m not used to being around women. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

She stares at me for a moment, as if considering my words. As if she’s weighing my apology. I think she finds it lacking.

“Thanks for driving me to Denver.” Her voice is coolly neutral. “I appreciate it.”

I withdraw my hand as she steps down from the truck, closes her door, and walks away. “It was my pleasure, sweetheart,” I murmur, but she’s well out of hearing range.

She’s been here only a few days, and already my life is more complicated. And I can’t even pinpoint why. It’s not like I have a snowball’s chance in hell with her. My mind knows that. But for some reason, my heart hasn’t caught up. The voice-over in my head won’t shut up. Forget it, Burke. This isn’t a Disney movie, where the beauty falls for the beast.

Just as I’m about to pull away, the sheriff’s car pulls up beside me.

Chris gets out of his cruiser. “Hey, Burke.”

When he steps up to my door, I lower the window. “Chris. How’s it going?”

“Fine,” he says.

He’s in uniform. “Is there a problem?”

“Nah. I just thought I’d stop in for a quick bite to eat before I have to get back to work.” He glances toward the big doors. “Was that Gabrielle I just saw gettin’ out of your truck?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Nothing. I just wondered—” He cuts himself off.

“I drove her to Denver on a supply run. That’s all.”

Chris nods. “Good. Okay, good.” He checks his watch, and then he looks to the door. “I’d better get in there and grab some food before it’s all gone.” He takes a couple of steps toward the entrance, then stops and looks back at me. “Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, is there anything going on between you and Gabrielle? Anything I should know about?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

“Good.” He nods again. “I just wanted to ask, you know—to be sure. I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” And then he jogs up to the entrance and disappears inside the building.

No. There’s nothing going on. Nothing at all.

I catch myself rubbing the center of my aching chest. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never wanted someone like I want Gabrielle.

Chris Nelson is Prince Charming. Why would Gabrielle be interested in the beast when she can have the prince?