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He chuckled, and several puffs of air hung in front of his nose. "Do I look like a Mormon missionary?"

No. He looked like a guy who liked to sin, but he wasn't. She didn't know anything about him at all. Other than the fact that he was a jerk and drove a HUMMER. What kind of person drove an array assault vehicle? A jerk with erectile dysfunction, that's what kind. "Why don't you drive a human-sized car?"

He straightened. "I like my HUMMER."

A cold breeze lifted the tails of Kate's wool scarf, and it danced on the air between them. "It makes people wonder if you're overcompensating for something," she said.

Lines appeared in the corners of his eyes, and he reached out to tug at one end of her scarf. "Are you standing there wondering about the size of my package?"

She felt heat rise to her already heated cheeks, and she was grateful they were already red from the cold. She pulled her scarf out of his grasp. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't wonder about you at all." She walked around him and added, "Let alone the size of your package."

He tipped back his head and laughed. Deep, satisfied male laughter that chased her all the way to the front of the store. She mumbled a "Have a nice day" to Paul Aberdeen and Hayden Dean as she passed them on their way out of the M&S. Inside, Regina still hovered near Stanley, going on about the library where she worked, her thick glasses bobbing on the end of her nose as she nodded her head. Stanley busied himself with impulse items near the checkout.

Normally Kate would have rescued him from Regina's chatter, but Stanley had sicced Rob on her and she wasn't feeling charitable at the moment.

"I'll be in the back," Kate told her grandfather as she walked past. She pulled off her gloves and hat and unwound her scarf. She tossed them on the worktable and hung her coat on a hook. An overhead vent blew warm air on the top of her head. She lifted her face and closed her eyes.

He remembered everything about the night she'd propositioned him. The knowledge settled in her stomach like a lead ball. Her hope that he was a blind drunk had been in vain. She'd moved to Gospel for a little break from her life. A little rest, relaxation, and reevaluation.

Kate opened her eyes and sighed. Could her life get much worse? She was lonely and, outside of the M&S, the only conversation she'd had with anyone her own age was with the six-foot-three-inch, green-eyed a-hole from across the parking lot. And what had just taken place between them couldn't really pass for conversation.

She had to find something to do. Something other than working in the M&S and watching Friends reruns at night. The problem was that there were only two things to do in this town—join the Mountain Mama Crafters and knit toaster cozies or hit the bars and get toasted. Neither held the slightest appeal.

The bell above the front door rang, and Stanley called for her to come out front. She wondered if Rob was back and feared yet another transparent matchmaking attempt by her misguided grandfather. But when she moved out front again, thankfully Rob was nowhere to be seen.

Stanley stood at the end of the counter talking to a woman who looked to be in her late fifties, early sixties. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and brushed into a perfect bob. She stood only a few inches shorter than Kate's grandfather, which made her about Kate's height. Between the open zipper of her thick coat hung a red stethoscope. Regina stood with them, and the two women were telling Stanley about their poetry social.

"I hope you'll change your mind," the taller woman said. "Our monthly social group could use a few men."

"What about Rob?" Regina asked.

As Kate approached, the taller woman shrugged and looked up at Stanley. "I saw you put Rob to work shoveling your walk."

"He volunteered." Stanley looked up at Kate, and the corners of his handlebar mustache turned up. "Grace, I don't believe you've met my granddaughter, Katie Hamilton."

"Hello." Kate stuck out her hand, and the other woman took it into hers.

"It's nice to meet you, Katie." Grace turned her head to the side and looked at Kate for a moment. Age lined her green eyes, and her fingers were still a little cold. "Where did you get your red hair? It's beautiful."

"Thanks." Kate dropped her hand to her side and smiled. "My father's family has red hair."

"Grace is Rob's mother," Stanley told her. "She works down at the Sawtooth Clinic."

Kate felt her stomach drop, and she forced her smile to stay in place. Had Rob told his mother about the Duchin Lounge? Did the nice lady with the stethoscope know that Kate had propositioned her son? Did Kate need to explain that she'd been a little tipsy that night? That it had been the one and only time she'd propositioned a man in a bar? That she really wasn't a drunk slut? Not that she didn't have sluttish thoughts sometimes. She'd just never had the nerve to act on them before that night.

Good grief! She was rambling inside her own head. "It's nice to meet you, Grace." She took a few steps back before her rambling could make its way out of her mouth. "I'm going to finish stacking the paper towels," she said and took off for aisle three. Why should she care what Rob Sutter's mother thought of her? Grace had raised a rude and obnoxious son. She obviously wasn't perfect either.

Just as Kate picked up a roll of Bounty and set it on the top shelf, Grace walked down aisle two, Regina following on her heels.

"I need to talk to you, Grace."

"I really don't have time to chat. I'm just here long enough to get some sugar cubes for the clinic," Grace said.

"It won't take but a minute," Regina insisted as the two women stopped on the other side of the row of paper towels. "I was at the Cozy Corner just yesterday, having the lunch special, and Iona told me that your son Rob is gay."

Kate moved her head slightly to the left, and between the rows, she watched Grace's eyes widen and her lips part. "Well, I don't think—"

"Now the reason I bring it up," Regina interrupted, "is because my son Tiffer is coming up for the Easter weekend. I don't know if you've heard, but Tiffer is a female impersonator down in Boise." Even Kate had heard that, but she couldn't recall when and where. "Tiffer doesn't have a partner right now, and I thought that if perhaps Rob is single, we should introduce the two of them."

Grace fingered her coat collar. "Well, I don't believe Robert is gay."

Kate didn't believe so either, and she wondered who'd started the rumor and why anyone would believe it. Not that she felt bad for "Robert."

"Sometimes us mothers are the last to know," Regina assured the other woman.

"He's thirty-six." A frown pulled Grace's brows together. "I think I'd know by now."

"Being a hockey player, I can understand him wanting to keep quiet about his sexuality."

"He doesn't play hockey anymore."

"Maybe he's still in the closet. Some men never come out." Hockey player? Kate had heard quite a bit of gossip about Rob, but no one had mentioned that he'd played hockey. Although it did explain the knee injury he'd complained about the first night they'd met. It also explained his nasty temperament.

"I assure you, Regina, my son likes women."

The bell above the door rang, and all eyes turned to the man in question as he walked inside and stamped snow from his boots. He pulled off his cap and shoved it in his coat pocket. His cheeks were red, and his green eyes shone. The overhead light bounced off his silver ring as he combed his fingers through the side of his hair. Somehow, he managed to look big and bad and boyish all at the same time.

Regina leaned in close and said just above a whisper, "You be sure and talk it over with him. Tell him Tiffer's a good catch."

The corners of Grace's lips slid up. "Oh, you can be sure I'll tell him."

Five