The Grand Opening Read online

  The Grand Opening

  When Peggy McBride moves to Dare Valley, Colorado, the last thing she wants is to meet a man. If she’s learned one thing from her divorce, it’s that love is a messy business, and as a single mom and the new deputy sheriff, she has her hands full. But when hotel magnate and poker player Mac Maven moves to town, she becomes enthralled by the very last man she would ever consider dating…

  Mac Maven has come to Dare with ambitious plans for his new project, the restoration of The Grand Mountain Hotel as a boutique poker venue. Only one person offers him a less than warm welcome: Deputy Sheriff Peggy McBride, who is dead set against gambling. But although Peggy’s a fierce opponent, Mac senses a tenderness and passion within her that he longs to free. Having helped his sister raise her teenage son, he understands Peggy, and can see past her tough–as–nails exterior.

  When a threat to Mac’s hotel surfaces, he and Peggy must join forces to find out who’s responsible. Working together ignites the white–hot connection between them, and their cooperation takes a decidedly personal turn. But can Mac convince Peggy to set their differences aside and take a gamble on love?

  PRAISE FOR AVA MILES AND NORA ROBERTS LAND

  “It {NORA ROBERTS LAND} captures the best of what I love in a Nora Roberts novel…”

  —BlogCritics

  “Debut author Ava Miles combines small–town romance with big–world issues in a full–bodied romance fiction in the first of the Dare Valley series…and paints a wonderful idyllic setting for this small–town series with great characters.”

  —USA Today, Happily Ever After

  “Ava Miles’s debut novel is warm, funny, and wholly entertaining.”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “Ms. Miles does a great job in creating a story that shows how much the heroine loves Nora Roberts books and how determined she is in finding her own small town hero of her own ala Nora Roberts. The writing is tight, story flows smoothly and the few twists and turns left me on the edge of my seat, waiting for baited breath for what happens next.”

  —Love Romances & MORE

  “For fans of Nora Roberts, this is an enjoyable book.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “I have read enough Nora Roberts books…to be drawn in…”

  —TBR Pile

  Those who resist always fall the hardest…

  He pressed his palms against the door, caging her in. Even though her eyes narrowed, he didn’t stop, didn’t step back. He wanted to touch her, smell the clean scent she wore on her hair and skin. He was taller than she was, something she probably hated. He brushed her shoulder with a finger and made sure it lingered long enough for her to know it wasn’t accidental.

  “I want you to use my name.” She never did, and it bothered him way more than it should.

  “Maven works for me.”

  “I like Mac better.” His light tone was a contrast to the war inside him. His heart beat in strong pulses.

  She lifted her hand—almost like she was going to flick away a fly—and then let it settle on her waist. “Good for you. Mac’s something you’d call a friend. We’re not friends.”

  “Perhaps not, but your resistance makes me think you’re not as immune to me as I thought. I wish things were different between us, Peg.”

  “Don’t call me Peg, and don’t make this personal.”

  He dipped his head so he could meet her gaze. She had a caramel–colored ring around those chocolate eyes. The tense line at the corners told him she wouldn’t put up with too much more, but in for a penny, in for a pound, as Cince always said.

  “I wish I could stop, but it is personal, Peg. As personal as it gets.”

  To my parents, Mike and Julie, for giving me life, always taking me to the library, letting me buy books even when money was tight, teaching me life lessons, and helping me learn ones on my own. I love you both dearly.

  And to my divine entourage, who has the best sense of humor and makes me laugh loudly and frequently.

  Acknowledgements

  For the abundant help that continues to support my writing journey:

  The earth angels of Team Ava, including my incredible assistant, Maggie Mae Gallagher; my editor, the amazing and insightful Angela Polidoro; Gregory Stewart for the updated Dare Valley map, the Don’t Soy With Me logo for my Swag, and his tremendous support in tons of other things; the Killion Group for the cover art; my copy editor, Helen Hester–Ossa; my eformatter, Meredith Bond; and Bemis Promotions for continuing to add to the brilliance of my website.

  My former agent, Jennifer Schober, and her real love for Peggy and Mac’s story.

  To my sister, Tabitha, and my brother–in–law, Mark, for their incredible help on the poker scenes. Here’s to seeing you with the gold bracelet someday, Mark.

  To my Aunt Janie and Uncle Alan, for their professional insights on all things law enforcement.

  T.F. You know why.

  To my readers, whose outpouring of love and support awe and humble me. Thank you for reading!

  Lastly, just a note to say I’ve played with time regarding the hotel being up and running to make this story come together. That’s the fun about fiction. So enjoy.

  Chapter 1

  Deputy Sheriff Peggy McBride didn’t care what conventional wisdom said about men, meat, and fire. Barbecues had been invented by women.

  Some mother had come up with the idea of setting up in the backyard and throwing meat on the grill. Where else could kids run around and howl like banshees with other children while their mothers enjoyed adult beverages, conversation, and chow?

  Add in the fact that you didn’t have to dress up like you did for a stuffy inside party, and BBQs pretty much ruled Peggy’s universe. Too bad she lived in the Colorado Rockies now, or she’d do this year round.

  “Mom, why didn’t you let me bring my new baseball?”

  “We don’t want anything to happen to another window, do we?”

  Her seven–year–old son gave a mulish scowl—so like her own. “Gosh, Mom, it was an accident. Really! Uncle Tanner says things like that happen when you’re learning to play ball.”

  Usually her brother was on her side. She frowned. Maybe his wife, Meredith, would back her up on this one.

  “You can play baseball at his house then. Not at Jill’s.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask Jill. Meredith’s sister spoiled Keith rotten. Peggy loved that she’d gained an extended family through Tanner, but she hoped Jill would become more of a disciplinarian when she had her twins in a couple of months. Maybe her new husband, Brian, would help with that.

  “But Mom…”

  She tuned out the whining. If she could tune out a suspect spewing curse words, then she could certainly tune out her own son. And thank God for that. They were less than a month into school vacation, and the whines like I’m so bored, Mom were making her crack. She’d mostly gotten over the guilt.

  Being a single mother, there wasn’t anyone else to share it with.

  Keith tugged on her shirt, startling her. She gripped the pie in her hands a little tighter. Walking down Dare Valley’s small–town sidewalk carrying a dessert couldn’t have embarrassed her more. Did she look like someone from the Colorado Welcome Wagon? Thank God for frozen pie crusts. All she had to do was dump in condensed milk and lime juice, freeze it, and wham, she had a key lime pie. Keith went nuts for it.

  His disgruntled symphony finally made her eyelid spasm. “Enough, please. We’re going to have a great time today. Jill and Brian know how to throw a party.”

  “I like her new name. McConnell. Tanner says she’s like him now. A ‘Mc.’”

  Leave it to her brother. McBride and McConnell. Like they were Irish ancestors or something.

  “Is Grandpa Hale g
oing to be there too?”

  She smiled. Jill and Meredith’s grandfather treated Keith like he was his own flesh and blood. They played checkers and went out for ice cream. It warmed her heart.

  “Yes, Arthur will be there.”

  “What about Mr. Maven?”

  Her lips twitched into a scowl, and her BBQ giddiness faded. The answer was yes. Jill’s boss would probably be there. He was her arch–rival in the community—a poker–playing, hotel–building slickster nicknamed Maverick—but he made her traitorous feminine parts squeal. She’d tried to stop him from building his new boutique poker hotel in town and lost. He’d taken it personally. Who could blame him? They’d basically ignored each other since the city council had approved the plans for the hotel six months ago. Come to think of it, it was pretty impressive that she’d managed to go that long without uttering a word to him, especially since Jill worked for him. He was around all the darn time, making her feel at once guilty and achy.

  “Yes, he’ll probably be there.”

  “Okay,” Keith muttered, kicking a rock on the street.

  Her guilt spiked. Keith loved Maven, so her ‘Cold War’ with him had her son confused—he was loyal to her, but didn’t understand why she had taken such a dislike to his buddy.

  How could she explain it to a kid? It was hard enough explaining why she and his dad had broken up and why Frank never seemed to remember Keith’s birthday.

  “There’ll be other kids to play with. You’ll like that, right?”

  He picked up a stick and heaved it across the street. “Great, ‘cause I’m never going to have a baby brother or sister of my own. It stinks. Why can’t you just find one when you’re working and bring it home?”

  Her eye spasm tapped like a telegraph. “Because it’s illegal, Keith. We’ve discussed this before. You’re my number one guy.”

  “I’d help you, Mom. I would, I would.”

  She wasn’t stupid enough to miss the beginnings of a common negotiation. The whole If I can’t have a baby, can I have a puppy? routine.

  The kid was devious. She did the same thing to suspects all the time. The famous McBride genes ran in his veins. It made her proud.

  Except when it made her nuts.

  “Keith, we’ll go home for a time–out if you don’t stop this. “

  “But the pie will melt.” He pointed, his determined chin thrust out. “See, there’s already water on the sides. That’s consdenforum.”

  “Condensation,” she automatically corrected.

  A loud clatter on the sidewalk made her ears cock back. Who was wearing high heels to a BBQ? Someone looking to get laid, but the shoes didn’t sound right. More like horse hooves. She looked over her shoulder and froze.

  There was a freakin’ moose behind them.

  She almost dropped the pie. None of her experiences as a cop had prepared her for this Northern Exposure moment. God must have had an off–day during Creation Week. It had to be the ugliest, weirdest thing in the animal kingdom. It looked like a tall buffalo with the hump back and sweetheart–shaped face. The ginormous head bounced as it clicked along on legs that looked too spindly to support its massive body. It could have used a serious wax and trim with all that mangy hair sticking out.

  Those eerie brown eyes stared at her. Goosebumps skittered across her skin. She’d seen the same look in criminals. This thing wasn’t going to leave them alone. He wanted something. Or was it a she? It didn’t have any of those horn–thingies. What were they called? Oh, antlers.

  Moose didn’t eat people, did they?

  Why had she moved to the Colorado Rockies again?

  She tucked the pie in the crook of her arm and took Keith’s hand. “Okay, let’s pick up the pace.”

  She vowed never to walk to Jill’s house again. Who cared about gas prices and fluorocarbons when they lived in Wild Kingdom? Heck, she’d heard about bears in people’s backyards, but this…

  This was nuts. They were on foot with a determined moose in hot pursuit.

  Ever attuned to her emotions, Keith tugged on her grip. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “We need to walk faster. There’s a moose behind us.” She’d always been honest with him. Plus, he was bound to look back and see the freakin’ thing. How could you miss a seven–foot ball of hair?

  He jerked his head around. “Holy crap!”

  She didn’t correct his language. Just tugged him along as she snuck glances at the moose over her shoulder.

  “What do we do?”

  “Umm…” She realized she wasn’t sure. She’d heard people talk about deer and bears, but never moose. Or was that mooses? Meese?

  Well, except for one thing…Don’t get near one. Her blood ran cold.

  Keith’s hand trembled in hers. “It’s really big.”

  Understatement. They turned right. The clip–clop increased. She watched as the moose increased its pace, brown eyes gleaming.

  “Mommy, it’s walking faster.” Keith darted forward, almost jerking her arm out of the socket.

  The moose tossed its head. Jeez, that couldn’t be good.

  Keith was onto something.

  “Let’s run,” she said.

  The moose snorted, sending a jolt of pure terror down her spine. Clutching Keith’s hand in a vice–like grip, she started sprinting.

  The clip–clop shifted to the thundering of hooves. Peggy scanned Juniper Street, looking for options. The tree branches were too tall to climb. The houses in this part of town were tucked back from the street. Plus, what if the owner wasn’t home? She and Keith would be cornered.

  The moose was gaining on them, even with that weird, lumbering body. The head dipped.

  All the saliva drained from her mouth.

  If they couldn’t make it, she’d have to distract the dumb thing so Keith could get away. Like judo was going to work on this thing. Maybe running in a different direction would keep its attention focused on her? Cold sweat broke out under her clothes.

  They were about four blocks from Jill’s when the moose halted, stomped its feet like a flamenco dancer, and lowered its head. She could almost hear it yell Charge! Its pounding hooves echoed in her ears.

  “Run, Keith, run! Don’t stop! Get Uncle Tanner.” Her brother would know what to do. He always did.

  She stopped and turned around, clutching the pie. Maybe she could use it as a shield. Right.

  The moose stopped when she did, watching her. Its floppy ears curled back. The grunts issuing from its mouth made her think of the deranged sex offender she’d arrested last year.

  She braced her legs, prepared to spring to the side at the last minute if it charged.

  A car revved, racing down the street. She was in the middle of the road. God, what a choice—she could be hit by a car or a moose.

  A red Ferrari screeched to a halt between them. The beast tossed its head and charged, hitting the car with a resounding thunk. Glass cracked. Metal bent like Superman had put his fists through it.

  Shock rolled through her at the sheer destructive power of the thing. The passenger side door swung open as the moose ambled around the side dazedly. “Get in, Peg.”

  Magically, miraculously, it was Mac Maven, staring at her with his stoplight green eyes, which always made her think of a traffic light telling her, Yes, go, nothing’s stopping you. She darted for the vehicle as the moose headed her way.

  Keith stopped halfway up the block. “Mommy!”

  “Run! Get Tanner!”

  She jumped into the car and slammed the door, watching Keith run off. Thank God.

  The moose circled back and hit Maven’s side again, shaking them like clothes in a dryer. Metal whined with the impact. Glass splintered into spider webs.

  Her nemesis gripped her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “There’s a moose chasing us!” she sputtered.

  He was all but leaning into her lap to evade the shower of glass. “Right. Stupid question.”

  “Okay, let’s get out of
here.”

  The moose stood in their path. Mac revved the engine. “Move, dammit!

  “Go!” she yelled. This was not the time to be a granola–loving tree hugger.

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel as the animal landed a crushing blow on the hood like a pro–football linebacker. Something popped, and smoke rolled out from the engine, making her nose twitch. The moose stumbled to the side.

  The path clear, he hit the gas. The engine sputtered and died, lights flashing on the dashboard.

  “You’re kidding me,” she heaved out.

  “Oh, shit! Must have blown something.”

  “Try again!”

  He turned it over. It didn’t even fire. “It’s like an elephant sat on my car. That thing’s gotta weigh close to a thousand pounds.”

  “How can you joke around at a time like this? Where’s your gun?” She dug into his glove compartment.

  “I don’t have a gun.”

  The moose circled the car. Tossed its head. Its wild, eerie eyes peered through the shattered windows.

  Maven’s eyes swept across her, following the moose. “Great, it knows it has us cornered.”

  She slammed the glove compartment shut. “Why don’t you have a gun?”

  “I don’t like them.”

  “How unmanly of you.” The moose fogged up her window as it peered through the web–like glass. Yuck, moose breath. She hit the window to make it go away, causing more spider cracks.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Maven cautioned.

  It darted back.

  “See, it moved! Just needed to show it who’s boss.”

  It lowered its head and charged her side of the car.

  Maven tugged her body over the partition between the seats, his strong arms encircling her as he pushed her head against his chest. “Shit. Now you’ve really pissed it off.”

  Pie covered her front, its wetness spreading through her shirt. The smell of citrus blended with the smell of burnt car parts hanging thickly in the air.