Cupcakes and Cowboys (Sunset Plains Romance Book 1) (4 page)

“So, Jase,” Mama said, handing him the bowl of potatoes. “Tell us about yourself.”

“Not much to tell,” Jase said.

“It must be very exciting to live in Hollywood,” Mama said. “We went on a vacation to Southern California when Cassidy was still in pigtails and spent a few hours at the walk of fame.”

“It’s a nice area.” Jase handed Cassidy the salad and she took it, careful not to let her fingers brush his. “But I’m not home very often. I spend a lot of time on location when filming. We’re setting most of the western in Texas, so I’ll be there for a few months. I’m not sure what role I’ll take on after that—I’m keeping my options open.”

Cassidy remembered all too well the erratic schedule of an actor. Even though Drew had only done indie films while they were together, he’d still traveled to location—on his own dime. It had been a constant source of contention between them, especially once they found out about the baby.

“I always thought it would be nice to travel,” Mama said.

“There’s still time.” Jase passed the bowl of potatoes. “I bet you’d love Australia.”

“It’s hard to find someone to take care of the ranch for more than a few days at a time.” Randy took a bite of roast, chewing slowly. “That’s your first lesson in ranching—the ranch always comes first. Vacations are few and far between, and when they do happen, they’re not very long.”

“Ranching sounds like a demanding profession,” Jase said.

Cassidy rolled her eyes, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Mama’s fork clattered against her plate, and her eyes narrowed in a glare. “Cassidy.”

“No, she’s right.” An easy grin split Jase’s face, making his dimples pop.

Focus on his bad qualities,
Cassidy thought.
Arrogant actor. This whole thing is a game to him. He’s playing me, like I’m a character with a script.

“I’m fascinated by ranching,” Jase continued. “Not just the ranch itself, but the family values ranchers have.”

“Family is very important,” Randy said. “Both the family you’re born into and the one you choose.”

If family was so important, then why had her parents put her in such an uncomfortable position? And why hadn’t Tanner, her dear older brother, at least warned her? Cassidy pushed back from the table, no longer hungry. “I’ll be in my room. Somehow, I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You’ll have to excuse Cassidy,” she heard her mom say as she climbed the stairs. “She has some personal stuff going on, and this is hard for her.”

Cassidy quickened her pace, taking the stairs two at a time. Yes, this was hard for her. Not that anyone cared. Her parents had brought a wolf into the family and told Cassidy to treat him like a king.

She spent the rest of the evening in her room, flipping through television channels and playing the guitar while trying to take her mind off the handsome man relaxing in the bunkhouse. At nine o’clock she turned out the lights and tried to fall asleep. But the wind howled outside, battering against the windows. Cassidy tossed and turned as the wind faded into pounding rain. Around eleven o’clock, she knew the power went out—could tell when the hum of the air conditioner stopped. Slowly the temperature rose to a muggy and uncomfortable level. She worried about the bakery, but even if the power was out there, the food should keep until morning. Cassidy tossed the blankets aside as the rain continue to roar outside.

What was Drew like in Hollywood? He’d always acted different when she visited him on set than he did when they were alone. She should’ve been concerned, but instead had been vaguely annoyed by his attitude. It never occurred to her that Fake Drew was the one she knew, and Real Drew was the one she encountered on set.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by thunder she felt clear down to her bones.

The house groaned and creaked as the wind continued to abuse it. Cassidy shifted again, rolling onto her side and trying to find a comfortable position. If she fell asleep now, she’d get almost five hours of sleep before she had to wake up. That was the only thing she didn’t like about owning a bakery—starting her days at four a.m.

She finally managed a few restless hours of sleep before dragging herself out of bed. She took a cool shower in an attempt to wake herself up, then threw on some clothes and drove to the bakery. Once there she unlocked the back door and stepped inside the kitchen, flipping the light switch.

Nothing happened.

She flipped the switch again, then again and again. The power was on at the house, so why was it still out here? “Not today,” she moaned, striding to the freezer that held a week’s worth of ingredients. But she already knew what she’d find. There was no buzz from the appliances. She pulled the door open. The light remained off, but the air inside was still cool.

She slammed the door shut and wrenched open the fridge, only to discover the same thing.

She shut the door, trying to decide what to do. Maybe the power was on, but the breakers had flipped during the storm. She headed back outside and around the building. She noticed the black scorch marks on the siding first. They trailed in a line from the roof down to the breaker box.

She bent down, her heart in her throat, and slowly opened the box. The inside was blackened, a few of the switches partially melted.

Lightning had struck the building.

Despair welled inside her, and she shut the door, slumping against the wall. Repairing the damage to the building and breaker would thankfully be her landlord’s responsibility. But had the lightning fried the circuits in the ancient fridge and freezer? And how long would it take to repair everything? She had hundreds of dollars worth of ingredients in those two appliances, and it would all start defrosting in a few hours. Between the poor insulation in the old appliances and the Oklahoma heat, it wouldn’t take long. For most businesses, losing ingredients would be inconvenient. But only four months in, with a tiny client base and slim profit margins, it was devastating.

Cassidy pushed herself off the wall and walked back inside. With a lot of grunting and groaning, she pulled the fridge and freezer far enough away from the wall to inspect the backside. There were a few blackened areas, but she couldn’t tell if they were a result of the lightning and didn’t remember if they’d already been there.

Hatred welled within her for Drew. This was all his fault. If not for him, and the wedding bills he’d stuck her with, she wouldn’t have had to buy the crappy, unreliable used appliances, making this setback a much smaller problem. Drew, who was continuing to invade her life in the form of his best friend, Jase. She imagined discussing today’s disaster over the dinner table tonight. Jase would lean back in his chair, a haughty smirk on his criminally attractive face as he told her how ridiculous it was to even try to run a bakery in a town as small as Sunset Plains. That’s what Drew had always told her when she brought up her dream. It was why she’d dropped out of culinary school and turned down the internship.

She regretted telling Anabeth “no” now more than ever.

Slowly she rose to her feet. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths.
I can do this,
she thought. It was a setback, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought, and the fridge and freezer—and the ingredients inside—were salvageable.

She pulled out her phone, ready to get to work.

One month, or he’d lose the part.

Jase stared at the ceiling that was only a few feet from his face and took a deep breath. The air was hot and muggy, barely cooling back down after a night with no power. Rain had pounded against the window panes all night as thunder shook the building clear down to the foundation. He’d tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable in the too-short and too-narrow bunk. His thoughts had paraded in circles for hours.

Feet shuffled against the wood floor, bringing him back to the present. A moment later he heard the bathroom door open, then a click as someone switched on their phone. Soft snores still filled the space, but he heard cowboys stirring in their beds as well. Jase illuminated his cell just enough to see the time. 4:49. Mason said most men woke up around five.

Jase shouldn’t be surprised his mother had weaseled her way onto the production and was trying to take control of his career—she’d been doing it since he was a baby. Her entire life revolved around Hollywood, and by extension so had his. Only recently had he stopped to consider whether it was what he really wanted.

One month. His chest tightened. He’d been at Star Ranch for less than twenty-four hours, but already he didn’t want to leave. His thoughts drifted to Cassidy and the way she’d stormed off at dinner. Her tantrum went beyond someone who simply didn’t like actors. Would he be able to figure out her story in only a month?

What he hated worst of all was the fact his mother was right—it was irresponsible to delay production for four months of research. No one loved their job one hundred percent of the time, and he certainly wasn’t exempt from that. This film might just be the one to help him regain his spark. He would throw himself into research, and return to Hollywood when the time came without a backward glance.
Time to pony up, cowboy,
he thought, and grinned wryly at how country the phrase sounded. He was here to research a role so he could hopefully do a performance worthy of an Oscar win and not just a nomination. Intriguing women like Cassidy weren’t part of the plan.

The men didn’t say much as they got ready for the day. Jase took a quick shower in one of the empty stalls in the communal bathroom, then made his way to the dining room. The food was spread out buffet-style on the counter. Jase grabbed a plate and eagerly loaded up—hash browns, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and gravy blended together in a perfect balance of scents that had his mouth watering and stomach rumbling. Dinner last night had been uncomfortable, killing his appetite, despite Sara’s excellent cooking. He’d kept watching Cassidy. Her shoulders had radiated tension, her brow furrowed in agitation.

Jase sat down at the dining room table, one of the last to arrive. The other men ate in relative silence. A few of them flicked glances his direction. Jase wondered if they were usually this quiet in the morning, or if his presence changed the routine. He turned to the man beside him and stuck out a hand. “I’m Jase.”

“Brighton.” The man took his hand and shook it firmly. A youthful face suggested he was right out of high school.

“How long have you been working here?”

“Only a few months. Trying to save up money so I can go to college in the fall.”

Jase opened his mouth to respond, but a hand landed on his shoulder. Mason glared down at him.

“Are you ready for today?” Mason asked, the words a growl.

Jase glanced at Brighton, who quickly turned back to his plate of food, as though eager to avoid Mason.

“More than ready,” Jase said. “I can’t wait to dive into ranch life.”

“It’s hard work that a city boy like you isn’t used to. We’ve got a lot to get through today. I hope you can keep up.”

Jase blinked, surprised at the accusatory tone. “Don’t worry about me slowing you down.”

Mason grunted. “That storm last night took out a huge section of fencing and some of the cattle got loose. Some men are already out rustling them up. You and me will be repairing a section of fence in the north field.”

Jase nodded, excitement thrumming through him like an electric hum. “I didn’t realize a storm could do so much damage.”

“The weather is a rancher’s worst enemy.” The tone clearly suggested Jase should already know this. “Every time we get a thunderstorm—and there are a lot of them in this part of Oklahoma—we end up spending a few days cleaning up the mess. We’ll head out as soon as you finish eating.”

In other words, eat quick or get left behind,
Jase thought. But no, he was reading too much into it—Mason was just stressed about the storm, and eager to get to work. Which suited Jase just fine.

He quickly finished his bacon, told Brighton goodbye, and followed Mason outside. He hoped he’d get to do more than just observe today. He needed to
be
a rancher and immerse himself in this lifestyle.

I guess a storm is as good a chance as any,
he thought. Because he would make this his best performance yet—it wasn’t in him to give anything less than one hundred percent. Besides, while he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his career, he wanted the decision to be his own, and maintaining his reputation as a professional was part of that.