Ever After at Sweetheart Ranch (8 page)

“Lyndsay's going to ask Will out.”

Lyndsay rolled her eyes.

Kate went on with enthusiasm. “Did you see them together Friday night, sparring adorably?”

Tony grimaced. “I'm not sure Will knows how to spar adorably.”

“Lyndsay was adorable. Will was charming.”

“I did see you dancing,” Tony said, frowning.

“I was drunk.” Lyndsay couldn't meet his eyes.

“And you left with him.”

“He walked me home, we said good night, and he did not come in.”

“Yeah, well, it's probably for the best,” Tony agreed.

“Says the person who forbid her from dating his friends,” Kate pointed out.

“When did I do that?” he asked Lyndsay.

“High school. You said it would be ‘awkward' for you should we break up. The reverse didn't exactly work, though, did it?”

“So, okay, I didn't follow my own rule. Our situation is the
exception
to the rule.”

“Double standard,” Lyndsay pointed out.

“I don't know if this is a good idea,” he said, as if he hadn't heard. “He's a serial dater. You'll only get hurt.”

“Hey!” Kate said. “We don't know that at all. You should have seen them flirting together.”

“Will flirts with everybody,” Lyndsay and Tony said at the same time.

They all laughed.

Tony sobered first. “But honestly, Lynds, I know you're looking for a long-­term relationship, and I don't think Will has that in him.”

“You don't think he'll ever get married?” Kate asked curiously.

He hesitated. “He never talks about it at all, and he's thirty-­three.”

“That's just because he hasn't met the right girl,” Kate insisted.

“I don't think so. Even guys sometimes talk about eventually settling down or ‘when I have kids,' but not Will. He's pretty happy the way he is.”

“It's about having a little fun,” Lyndsay said.

Kate nodded. “Tasting the forbidden fruit.”

Tony frowned.

Laughing, Lyndsay gave his shoulder a push. “I just need to know what's there—­and what isn't. Then we'll all move on.”

He opened his mouth as if he had more to say.

“Time to change the subject,” Lyndsay said cheerfully. “Want to see the author website I learned how to build?”

Kate threw an arm around her shoulder. “Of course! I'm so proud of you!”

They spent a fun half hour looking at her website. She showed them her preorder ranking at online bookstores, and the first early—­and good!—­review her publisher had gotten for her. As she was discussing the blogs she'd written for reviewer websites, she remembered the interview question she'd received, asking if she'd based the hero on someone. And she couldn't imagine telling Kate and Tony what had happened.

O
n Thursday, at Sugar and Spice, the Main Street bakery owned by Emily Thalberg, Lyndsay dropped in to meet Kate for a quick dessert after lunch. She'd been able to sneak a few extra minutes away from school so she could indulge her sweet tooth with a fellow devotee.

Kate was already there, sipping coffee at one of the little tables in the corner, when Lyndsay arrived. On the opposite wall was a long glass display case with all the goodies that so lured Lyndsay. In the back, next to the kitchen door, was a refrigerated cooler with cheesecakes and other temperature-­sensitive desserts. There were flowerpots on every table, and vases of them heaped in the display windows out front, surrounding the cakes and cookies, reminding a visitor that it was spring. With only a wave toward her friend, Lyndsay went to the counter to browse and salivate.

Kate joined her. “Well hello to you, too.”

“I knew you'd come over,” Lyndsay said.

Steph Sweet leaned her arms on the counter. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she looked younger than her college age. “I swear, you two are our best customers.”

“And we run a lot to make up for it,” Kate said. “I ate a healthy salad before I got here, I promise.”

“I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” Lyndsay said, distracted by all the deliciousness.

Kate threw her hands wide. “How do you do it? It makes me just sick, what you can eat while the rest of us suffer.”

“You don't have to suffer,” Lyndsay said, not taking her eyes off the chocolate ganache cake.

“I know, I know, I measure my portions. It's just unfair.”

“You don't want to meet here anymore?” Lyndsay asked, her smile fading.

“I didn't say that . . . Steph, I'll take a piece of carrot cake and iced tea unsweetened.”

Lyndsay relaxed. “I'll take a red velvet cupcake. And coffee. By the way, where's your sister?” she asked Steph.

“Em's in back, getting a ­couple pies ready for Tony's.”

“You want me to drop them off?”

“Naw, Will is due any moment to pick them up.”

Lyndsay inwardly winced. She pretended not to notice Kate perk up like she had bunny ears.

Steph grinned. “It's nice to have brothers for the occasional errand. Mom was supposed to do it, but something came up.”

They paid and carried their goodies to a table, where Kate said in a low voice, “Isn't that a lucky coincidence.”

“Uh-­huh,” Lyndsay answered, then took her cup to the coffee station for sugar and creamer. Back at the table, she removed the foil lining of her cupcake.

“So, have you asked Will out yet?” Kate asked, then took a bite of her carrot cake.

“Keep your voice down.” Lyndsay moaned as the first bite of velvety chocolate hit her tongue. “Can't a girl enjoy her dessert in peace?”

Kate crossed her arms over her chest. “Not if the girl is being cowardly.”

Lyndsay leaned over the table and said in a low voice, “We shouldn't be discussing this in his sister's bakery.” She glanced at Steph, who was thankfully distracted by an elderly gentleman.

“I just think you should go for it.”

“I will, I promise. But I haven't found the right moment yet.”

“Do you think he'll turn you down?”

“I don't know, and I'm not exactly worried about it. But asking over the phone seems . . . impersonal, and I won't be able to see his expression.”

“I'm glad you're not worried. And when you do date, if it doesn't work out, it'll be okay. The girls he dates always seem to remain friends with him. They might as well start a little Facebook group of Will's exes, they all get along so well. I don't remember you getting all that depressed when you broke up with a guy. You don't seem depressed over the dentist. But then, you weren't in love with him.”

“No. I honestly haven't been in love since John broke up with me just when I thought he was going to propose. Maybe I have that in common with Will, that I've always been wary since then.”

Will entered, magically summoned by his name, and the door jingled as if angels had announced his presence. Two middle-­aged women at the counter smiled and waved. Everybody loved him, Lyndsay thought, shaking her head with fond exasperation.

Using her finger to pick up a crumb on her napkin and eat it, she eyed Will. He met her gaze, and she felt a charge of awareness, as if a lightning storm had just passed. Was it her imagination, or did his smile fade a bit into intensity before he tugged his Stetson with his thumb, nodded, and turned toward the counter? Lyndsay shook herself and refocused on her friend, who thankfully hadn't seemed to notice anything unusual.

“Okay, now that we can't talk about him,” Kate said in a reasonable tone, “let's discuss your writing.”

“Shh!” Lyndsay hissed a little more forcefully than she should have.

The ladies at the counter looked right at her, but luckily Will was saying something to his little sister.

Kate's mouth briefly fell open. “What has gotten into you? I said nothing in a loud voice, and I just mentioned writing, not—­something specific.” She looked suspiciously from Lyndsay to Will, then whispered, “Why would you care if he heard that word?”

“I don't want anyone to hear that word, not right now. I'm not ready, and my students' parents need time to digest it before fall. I've explained all this.”

“Yes, and those excuses made sense. But I think there's something else going on.”

“Kate—­”

“Just tell me now, because you know I'll figure it out.”

Lyndsay took a sip of coffee and ignored her.

 

Chapter 7

W
ill kept his back to Lyndsay and Kate, trying to ignore his feeling of confusion. His awareness of Lyndsay was undergoing some kind of shift, and he didn't know what to make of it. She'd seemed to stiffen when he'd walked in the door. Maybe she was still embarrassed about being drunk the other night, but he didn't think that was it. Too many times this week, he'd thought back to standing outside her door Friday evening, reliving the moment when she'd asked him in, all warm and sweet and hesitant. He'd turned her down. Idiot. But if he'd gone in, what did he think would have happened?

Emily came out of the kitchen, carrying three pie boxes neatly stacked, turning his thoughts away from things he couldn't change. She was cuter than normal, wearing her
BEST BUNS IN TOWN
apron, so clean it was as if she never baked. It was still strange to think that just three years ago, he hadn't known he had an older sister, but now he couldn't imagine it otherwise. Emily had been through a bad divorce; her husband had left her partly because she couldn't give him a biological child. Any man who wasn't a fool could realize that kind, gentle Emily would make a wonderful mother, regardless of how they had children. And Nate was no fool.

Emily stepped behind the counter and came to the far end where the cash register was, placing the boxes in front of Will. He started to pull out his wallet.

“Tony has an account with us,” Steph said, then glanced at her sister with amusement. “A hefty account we bill monthly.”

Will put away his wallet. “Far be it from me to interfere between bakery and client.”

Since meeting Emily, Steph had done some growing up. She'd been a much-­loved—­and spoiled—­only daughter, and at sixteen, she'd found it tough to discover she had a sister. After a slow and rocky start, they now planned to go into the bakery together when Steph graduated from college.

“So, when's the move-­in date to the new apartment?” Will asked her. “I assume you'll need your brothers to help carry stuff.”

Steph gave a little squeal, and Em rolled her eyes good-­naturedly.

“I just signed the papers,” Steph confided. “Mom kept trying to talk me out of it—­said I should save my money—­but Monica is giving me a really good deal. No security deposit or last month's rent or anything. She and Travis have been moving stuff out already. I'll need some help this weekend.”

“You got it.”

Steph looked past him, gestured subtly with her chin toward Lyndsay and Kate, then spoke in a low voice. “I hear you guys danced a ­couple songs last Friday.”

“With Kate or Lyndsay?”

Steph spoke with exasperation. “The available one.”

Will exhaled slowly and arched an eyebrow at his other sister.

“Word gets around,” Emily whispered innocently.

“And why should word get around?” he asked with disbelief.

Emily spoke with calm patience, as if he were dense. “Because you never dance with her.”

“I don't?” He glanced at Lyndsay, who was eating one of his sister's sinful desserts. He admired the little dress she wore, which came to her knees in a teacherly fashion but bared her toned arms and dipped toward her breasts, as if teasing him.

Teasing him? Where had that come from? She wouldn't dress to affect him.

He'd noticed her looks and her intelligence and how funny she could be, but he'd kept his distance, figuring that, regardless of Tony's rules, she was just out of his league.

He left the counter and approached the two women. “Ladies, how are you this rainy afternoon?”

Lyndsay's bangs were haphazard across her forehead, but they couldn't hide the touch of chagrin in her brown eyes.

“Will, I have to apologize for getting drunk Friday night,” she said. “I hope I didn't embarrass you or myself too much.”

He pulled up a chair and straddled it. “Don't worry about it. You were hardly drunk, just talkative.”

Lyndsay ran a hand down her face. “I think I remember letting you get a word in edgewise.”

“You know I don't have a problem speaking up.”

He glanced at Kate, who was pointedly eating the last of her carrot cake as if she didn't want to disturb them. That was unusual. One dance with a woman seemed to be giving the whole town ideas—­him, too.

Lyndsay abruptly rose to her feet. “Thanks for accepting my apology. I've got to get back to school. See you later, Kate, Will.”

He watched her nod to his sisters and leave, walking quickly. Then he glanced at Kate. “Does my breath smell bad?”

She smiled. “Nope. She really does have to get back to school.” And with only the slightest pause, she added, “And I have to get back to the office. See you later!”

When she'd gone, he returned to the counter, ignoring the grins Emily and Steph exchanged. “Guess I'll take this to Tony before heading back to the ranch.”

“You do that!” Steph called cheerfully as he walked away.

Because of the pies and the rain, Will drove the half mile to Tony's Tavern. The lunch rush had passed, and the bar was settling down to its usual few guys and their sports on TV.

Tony was behind the bar, hanging up the last of the clean wineglasses. When he saw Will and the pies, he gestured with his head to the kitchen, and Will delivered them. Chef Baranski glanced up with a scowl on his unshaven face, tattooed arms bare above his sanitary gloves. His dark ponytail was shot through with gray beneath a faded ball cap. When he saw Will, he only grumbled, then nodded to the stainless steel counter.

“Put 'em there,” he said in a gruff voice, then “Thanks,” as if it were torn from his flesh.

Will went back to the bar and took a seat on a stool. “I don't know if I'd want to accidentally run into Chef out back at two a.m.”

Tony nodded. “He'd kick your ass.”

“But he makes a mean shepherd's pie.”

“Is that what you want for lunch?”

“You bet.”

Tony punched the order into the computer, then went back to refilling beer in the reach-­in coolers beneath the bar.

Will thought about Lyndsay, and how apparently he'd caused gossip by dancing with her and walking her home. Should he apologize to Tony? He'd probably be apologizing more for his recent thoughts than his actions . . .

“Oh, I meant to tell you.” Tony straightened up and leaned forward on the bar. “I hear the middle school 4-­H project leader had to drop out because of a badly broken leg.”

“You mean Gonzalez?”

“Yeah.”

“Works for the Circle F. Nasty break. He'll be out for a while.”

“Yeah, well, now Lyndsay tells me they need another cowboy. She's the school advisor for the club. It's a monthlong unit, once a week, about caring for horses, riding them, whatever.” Tony eyed him, wearing the faintest smile. “Know someone who'd be interested?”

Will didn't say anything for a moment, trying to decide if the gossip had gotten to Tony or not. And then Tony's daytime server, Rhonda, brought him his salad. He forked it around a bit and made his decision. If it was selfish, tough. “Yeah, if she needs help, I can do it.”

Tony arched a dark brow and said nothing.

“What's that expression for?” Will asked.

“You're defensive.”

“Do I need to be?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. I'll help the 4-­H.” But he'd be helping Lyndsay, and he knew that was the main reason he was going to do it.

“You're good with Ethan,” Tony said. “Guess you can handle a group his age.”

“No problem.”

“It's almost time for the hay harvest. Lynds was concerned she'd be interfering with a cowboy's work.”

“It's just a ­couple hours once a week. I can handle it.”

“Okay, then. Want me to tell her I found a volunteer?”

“I gotta stop at the feed store on my way home. I'll swing around to the school and let her know, find out details.”

His expression neutral, Tony said, “Okay, thanks.”

Will glanced at SportsCenter on the nearest TV. They were showing baseball highlights, but he didn't really pay attention. He was thinking about how he'd just seen Lyndsay, yet was still eager to see her again.

L
yndsay stood in the doorway of her classroom, turning off the lights, when she happened to look up—­and see Will Sweet. He was walking slowly down the hall, glancing from room to room, his cream-­colored Stetson shadowing his eyes, emphasizing the cleft deep in his square jaw. His sandy blond hair curled a bit behind his ears. Her mouth went dry, and she saw other women doing a double take as he strode past. His long arms swung loosely, veins from hard work meandering up them, the same faded rodeo t-­shirt tight over his biceps. His jeans were faded, too, low on his hips, tight across his thighs. He controlled a horse with those thighs, she thought with a shiver. His cowboy boots made a distinct, clipped sound on the wood floor.

When he saw her, his smile widened, his dimple deepened, and his eyes twinkled at her from beneath the shadow of his brim. “Just who I'm looking for,” he called, raising a hand.

What
was
he doing here?
she thought, pulling herself together. “Hi, Will,” she said, a bit more weakly than she'd hoped. “What can I help you with?”

He stopped right in front of her, and she had to angle her head back to see his face. She was too close to the tanned hollow at the base of his throat, and she could see the raindrops moistening the shoulders of his t-­shirt.

“Can we talk?” he asked, glancing past her to nod pleasantly at someone.

“Sure.” She turned the lights back on in her room and led the way to her desk. She seated herself behind it as if for protection—­from herself, of course—­and gestured to the chair beside it.

Instead, he sat on the edge of the nearest desk. “Tony told me about the 4-­H club needing a project leader. Will I do?”

She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but it hadn't been that. “Sure. That's really generous of you to offer.”

He leaned back on both hands and grinned, his head cocked. “You don't sound all that enthused.”

“No, no, really, I am,” she said, wishing she could kick herself. “I guess I was thinking it would be someone's dad or uncle or—­”

“Nate and Em are doing their best to make me an uncle,” he answered.

She briefly closed her eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense. You'll do a great job with the 4-­H. I really appreciate your help.”

She'd been waiting for some time alone to ask him out, but hadn't imagined it being at school. She stared at him, and he was studying her just as intently.

She took a deep breath. “Will, would you like to get a drink with me some evening? And I don't mean to talk about 4-­H.”

His smile faded, then something changed in his eyes. All that heavy-­lidded smolder she'd seen directed at other girls switched on. His gaze moved down her body, leisurely, intently, and she felt it like a physical caress, her nipples hardening, her belly clenching, her thighs tightening, and between them—­no, she wasn't letting herself go there, not now.

“I've found myself thinking the same thing lately,” he said in a husky voice.

The sound alone made her trembling increase. My God, she was in her middle school classroom, and she was worried about losing control.

“I think we could have some fun,” she said. “I know we usually orbit around Tony, you and me, as friends.”

“What's changed?” He straightened then, leaning forward, forearms braced on his thighs. His hands were loosely clasped together, and she studied them, wondering how it would feel to be touched intimately by him.

She shivered. “I—­I don't know.” That was a lie. But how could she tell him that her recent realization that she'd based Cody on him made her want to bring her feelings out in the open and put it behind her? “Maybe I just need to start taking chances, have some fun, even if I risk being hurt.”

“You think I'd hurt you?”

“Not deliberately. Maybe I'd hurt
you,
” she teased. “Not deliberately, of course.”

His faint smile deepened again. “I'm only hesitating because of your brother.”

“We're not in high school anymore.”

Suddenly he rose to his feet and came toward her almost nonchalantly, removing his hat and setting it on her desk. Her mouth went dry, her neck arched and arched, and then she couldn't take it anymore and had to stand up, too, though she felt as if her legs would buckle.

“I'm not sure we have any chemistry at all,” he said softly. “We should check.”

He kept coming, and she would have fallen over the chair if she'd backed up that way. The door was wide open; anyone passing could see them, but she didn't make that protest. Instead she found her back up against the whiteboard.

His body didn't touch hers at all, although it was a bare inch away. The heat of him was almost more than she could take, from her breasts to her hips down her legs. And then he touched her chin with his fingers, tilting her head until her wide eyes met his heavy-­lidded ones.

“I think . . . this will do the trick,” he whispered.

And then his mouth covered hers in a hot, passionate kiss. He explored her lips with his, and she met that exploration gladly with her own. He braced both hands on the board on either side of her head, yet still didn't let their bodies touch. She slanted her head and boldly thrust her tongue between his lips, lost in the taste of Will. His kiss was everything she'd imagined, forceful, knowledgeable, yet restrained, as if he had even more to give but couldn't show her unless they were naked.

And then he lifted his head and looked down at her with eyes that betrayed passion, yes, but . . . something else, something he was keeping hidden. It gave her a moment of uneasiness, but she pushed it away. She let her hand cup his face, felt the faint coarseness of stubble, the lean hollows of his cheeks. For just a moment, she let her thumb dip to the corner of his damp mouth.