Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(6)
Damn Hawk. The ex-spook could read minds.
Gabe shifted his focus to scrubbing down the surface of the bar and pretended he hadn’t been completely obvious in his mooning over the gorgeous pilot. “It’s getting close to dark. I hope they’re not searching for some idiot driver who thought using chains was optional in the mountains.”
“I hear you.” Hawk delivered a couple burgers to a table, then rounded the bar. “That pileup at Loveland Pass during last weekend’s storm sure was a mess. She had her chopper do things that shouldn’t be possible, and she refused to leave until she could get everyone to the hospital. She must have nerves of steel.”
“She’s something all right.” Gabe took another look at his watch. He hoped Deb wasn’t doing anything crazy tonight. She didn’t seem to care what chances she took. He didn’t know what her demons were, but nobody flew like that without a monkey on their back—or something to prove.
Just like Gabe. Of course he knew exactly why he’d put himself in the potential crosshairs of organized crime. But why did Deb take those kinds of risks? If he had the freedom, he’d love to peel off those layers, but he couldn’t do it. Not now.
Hawk pulled another couple of drafts. “Didn’t Seth tell me she rescued you?”
“My brother talks too much.” Gabe swiped some peanut shells from the counter. “She’s probably rescued half of Denver since she arrived, but yeah. If not for her, I’d be dead.”
“That’s got to count for something.” Hawk’s grin was guileless. “Sounds like you owe her a date.”
“Right. I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking.” There was no doubt Gabe owed Deborah Lansing big-time. After the knife had sliced his femoral artery, she’d flown him to the ER in record time. The doctors couldn’t believe he’d survived the blood loss, much less walked again given the leg’s muscle and nerve damage.
When Gabe had taken over Sammy’s, he’d offered her dinner and free drinks for life, along with his thanks. If not for her, he wouldn’t be on the op, and he wouldn’t have come to know her a bit, but she’d said his gratitude was enough. He wished all he felt for the pilot was gratitude, but he noticed a few too many little things about her. Like how she gave as good as she got with her Search and Rescue colleagues. Like how she was partial to the longneck bottle and potato skins. Or that occasionally she’d choose the chef salad and joke she needed a few veggies during the week. And once a month she’d go for a hot dog. All the trimmings. A woman who liked hot dogs—and ordered them—that was a woman Gabe could respect.
For months, whenever he brought her that plate, the urge to ask to join her grew stronger. Lately, though, she’d inspired more than just the desire for a meal and conversation. His subconscious had been working overtime, disturbing his dreams with some very interesting nighttime fantasies.
Yeah, Gabe was in trouble. He liked her too much. He noticed too much, and he really shouldn’t be thinking about her. Not during the investigation.
“So, boss, when are you going to ask her out?”
Gabe whipped his head up and glared. “You know, they say that only the good die young, but in your case, an exception can be made.”
“You wuss, Montgomery. Stop hiding behind your bar apron strings. Man up and ask her out.”
Gabe wished he could, any other time he would have, but Hawk knew the risks. What was he thinking? Then again, his bartender didn’t pretend to play it safe. Which was why he was behind this bar in the first place. Gabe didn’t need Hawk needling him as it was. He couldn’t get the auburn-haired helicopter pilot out of his head. Not during the day, and sure as hell not during the night.
Especially when she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
The woman worried him.
Gabe shouldn’t care, but he did. For months he’d tried to pin down the answer. Was it that sexy-as-hell challenge in her eyes when she smiled? Or maybe the pensive look that she couldn’t hide, that made him want to know more? Gabe fought not to rub at the scar tissue that still seized up his leg muscles, particularly after he’d been on his feet all day. Was it because she still lived the life he could no longer have? Did he seriously have thrill envy?
On cold nights like this, Gabe had to wonder. The painful limp was all too real. He could use an evening out of this bar, to stretch out on his couch with a double dose of ibuprofen, a hot dog with mustard, and a longneck bottle.
“Nothing to say? Oh, then you won’t mind if I make a move on her?” Hawk’s brow quirked.
Gabe slammed down a shot glass. “I see a firing in your immediate future, Hawk. I don’t care if Seth got you this job or not.”
Hawk just laughed, clearly not worried at all. “Have I ever mentioned that your brother is a whole lot nicer than you?”
Gabe shot him his best zip-it-or-die glare.
“Shutting up now, boss.”
Gabe’s gaze lingered on the bar stool once more. He’d made the right choice. Before long Ernie would be lurking nearby, hopefully waiting with some concrete intel on the Gasmerati crime syndicate, the group Gabe was convinced had engineered the threats against his brother.
A tin wind chime sounded outside the entryway and a group of laughing men pushed into the bar, followed by a woman with striking auburn hair. Deb Lansing.