The Sheriff's Secret Wife by Christyne Butler Page A

that snow and sunshine? It's gorgeous even if it's barely above freezing. Don't tell me your ass is still in bed."

She kicked at the dark blue sheets that matched Gage's eyes and stood. "No, I'm up."

"Hmm, I'll bet. Did Maggie tell you about lunch today?"

She leaned across the bed and grabbed her clothes. "That's why I'm calling. I have to—"

"Hold on, someone's beeping. Let me make sure it's not my boss. I'm not on the schedule today, but when you work for the sheriff—be right back."

Silence filled the air. Racy doubted it was Gage calling Leeann. She strained, but didn't hear a sound coming from the living room. A glance at the thick log walls of his bedroom revealed the reason why.

She quickly pulled on her panties. Okay, jeans next. Damn, they were still warm. She blamed the sunshine. It was easier than thinking Gage had just removed them from the dryer. Easier than trying to pull the denim material over her hips while balancing the cell phone between her ear and shoulder. Ah, success.

"Hi, I'm back. Maggie's here, too."

"It's about time you woke up," Maggie's voice sailed over the three-way call. "Were you stuck at the bar due to the weather? You never picked up this morning."

Racy's stomach dropped to her feet, her fingers frozen on the undone zipper of her jeans. "You called the house?" Were her brothers still at her place? If so, was it brains or booze that kept them from answering the telephone?

"To see if you wanted a lift to church. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping in the back the last few weeks."

Spiritual renewal was the furthest thing from Racy's mind at the moment. Right now, she needed to keep her friends away from her place until she knew what was going on.

"I was going to suggest we move up our lunch and leave right from church," Maggie continued, "and pick up Miss I-Communicate-With-God-In-My-Own-Way together."

Leeann huffed at the nickname. "Hey, I get more from my runs in the great outdoors than from a preacher lecturing about the sins of man."

"Ah, guys, our lunch plans are why I'm calling." Racy grabbed her fringed top and shoved it in her backpack. Her sweatshirt would work fine, but first things first.

She headed for the window, determined to find a way to release the simple Roman shades. The reflection off the mounds of fresh snow jacked up what promised to be a whopper of a headache. "I'm sorry, but I have to bail."

"What?"

"Why?"

Her friends' voices overlapped. Racy prayed she could get out of this with the smallest lie possible. She reached for the shade's tension string when movement caught her eye.

Gage stood in the center of a plant-filled, glass-enclosed sunroom. Bright sunshine bounced off shiny green leaves and sweat-sheened muscles. Facing away from her, he bowed deep at the waist, his pajama pants tight across his backside.

Then he rose and started a series of fluid arm and leg movements, each pose moving gracefully from one into the next, as muscles flexed and stretched. She recognized it as a martial art called Tai Chi. And Gage did it with perfection.

"Hello?"

"Racy?"

"Ah, yeah…I'm still here." She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Her eyes locked on the controlled power of Gage's body, thankful he continued to face away from her.

"What's going on?" Leeann demanded. "You sound weird."

"Landon's pulling up to the house," Maggie said. "I'll kick the family out of the car—that's said with love, dear—and Lee, I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes. Racy, we're coming over."

"No, you can't." Panic filled her. "I don't want you guys at the house."

"Did you do something stupid last night?" Maggie demanded. "Chase was a perfect gentleman, but if you took your plan a step in the wrong direction—"

"Hey, what plan?"

"There was no plan," Racy said to Leeann, and before Maggie could counter her she pushed on. "I just had a rough night and things are crazy."

"How rough?" Leeann cut in again. "Are you in trouble? Do you need help, official or