Second Chance at the Sugar Shack (13 page)

“Doesn’t sound like it was easy.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted it. It taught me a lot about myself. I learned that I couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen; if I really wanted something, I had to make it happen. I learned that I’d never be happy stuck in a cubicle and pushing paper. And I learned that making things interesting or fun or beautiful is a big part of who I am. If I couldn’t do that . . . well, I’d be a pretty unhappy camper.” She glanced away from the intensity in his eyes. “That probably sounds shallow to someone like you who’s all about serve and protect.”

“Not shallow. Just different. I admire creativity. As a kid I could never even stay in the lines when I colored.”

“Staying in the lines is overrated. So what about you?” she asked, eager to sway the conversation away from herself. She might like styling for people who craved the spotlight, but she never truly felt comfortable there herself. Especially when the source of intimidation sat only two feet away. “How’s your mother?”

“Same story. Different day.” He gave a barely visible shake of his head. “She met husband number six last year. I’m not even sure she’s legally divorced from number five. She moved to Alabama. Still drinks. Never hear from her unless she needs money.”

“I’m sorry.” Kate reached across the table and placed her hand on his arm. Beneath her fingers his muscles tightened.

“Shit happens.” He moved his arm from beneath her touch and picked up his fork.

The action should have been a clear sign that he wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. She remembered differently. She remembered plenty of times when he couldn’t get enough of her hands all over him. But when times had been tough, when he’d had to deal with his mother’s public drunkenness, or when his mother would punish him for the misery she’d made of her life, Kate had just held him in her arms. Obviously he was still trying to tuck away those painful years and move forward. Time to change the subject.

“Soooo, now that you have your house done, what’s your next project?” she asked.

He took a bite of potato, chewed it thoughtfully. “Sheriff Washburn’s retiring. I plan to take his place.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s been my goal for a long time.”

“It’s a lot of responsibility.”

He nodded, sipped his beer and said, “I’m ready for it. A lot of changes need to be made around here. Deer Lick may be small, but it’s not without its problems.”

“Who are you running against?” she asked, a little impressed by his sudden enthusiasm.

“A guy from Wyoming. Small-town deputy.”

“Like you?”

“Nothing like me.” His brows came together. “His platform is to keep things operating the way they are. But drugs are creeping into the community and the situation can’t be ignored.”

She sipped her wine. “That’s pretty admirable.”

He glanced out across the lake. “I care about this town, the people in it. It’s a good place to raise kids.” His eyes came back to hers. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

Their conversation came to a halt even as they watched each other. The differences between them were enormous. He was focused on taking care of his community, making a family, and raising kids. She was focused on staying on top of her game and grabbing handfuls of happiness here and there.

For now, the beauty of the night surrounded her as she shared a delicious meal with a gorgeous man while sipping very good wine. Who could ask for more? With her plate nearly empty, she pressed the napkin against her mouth. “Dinner was really great. Thank you.”

“No problem. Thanks for catching it.” He stood to remove their plates.

“Let me help you with that.” She reached out her hand and accidentally brushed her fingers against his. The same spark that flew from their fingertips that day in the bakery ignited a warm tingle through her stomach.

Their eyes met and he shook his head, obviously dismissing the connection. “I’ve got it covered.”

She watched him disappear into the dark house. A single light came on followed by the sound of dishes being dumped in a sink. She strolled to the edge of the deck and looked out over the lake. The moon glimmered on the still water and the scent of pine filled her head. She breathed in, knowing she needed to leave, yet not being able to tear herself away. If only she could trap the moment in a bottle and take it with her.

His slow and steady footsteps approached from behind and a warm jacket draped over her shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves.

“Thought you might be cold,” he said. “You shivered a couple of times during dinner.”

The jacket smelled like him—warm, spicy, sensual male.

She turned, practically into his arms. “Thank you.”

He lifted the collar of the jacket and tugged the lapels together with his big, strong hands. His gaze moved over her face, slowly, caressing her with his eyes. Her breath caught in her chest and her heart thumped with wild anticipation. All the warm feelings she’d once had for him, all the memories of lying in his arms, kissing him, tasting him, came rushing back.

He stood close—so close the angles of his handsome face sharpened and his eyes flashed a deeper, more penetrating blue. The breeze ruffled his hair and carried the clean scent of his skin. Around them the air grew thick. Her stomach knotted with a familiar desire.

They stood like that for what seemed like hours before he said, “Everything sane inside me says I shouldn’t kiss you.”

His blunt words doused the flames that licked at her core.

“Then don’t.” She started to pull away.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, his voice husky. Instead of letting her go, he tugged the jacket lapels toward him, lowered his head, and covered her mouth with his.

The touch of his lips, the taste of him was new, yet recognizable. And nothing had ever felt more right.

Burning with desire and aching with emptiness, she leaned into him, rose onto the balls of her feet, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms surrounded her in one smooth motion and they came together—heartbeat to heartbeat. Their tongues touched, swirled, and caressed while time melted away. She ran her hands through his hair, gripped the soft strands between her fingers while he made love to her mouth. Her head buzzed and she felt weightless in his arms. His hand slid down the curve of her back and cupped her bottom, bringing her against the thick, hot bulge that conveyed his own urgent need.

As she tried to get closer, the
Sex and the City
theme chimed from the cell phone in her back pocket. On the second chorus her hands were holding nothing but air.

“You’d better get that,” Matt said, now standing an arm’s length away. “Might be someone important.”

Feeling a sudden emptiness in her gut, she debated on whether to throw the phone in the lake and finish what they started or . . . “Shit.” Kate yanked the cell from her pocket and thrust it to her ear. “Hey . . . Josh.”

Matt turned his back then moved farther down the deck to give her privacy.

“Tell me something good,” she said into the phone.

“Oh, it’s good all right,” Josh snapped. “Inara was just arrested at Club Bardot for indecent exposure.”

“What? How the hell did she manage that?”

“A combination of one too many Iron Butterflies and the bartender’s paring knife.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“She de-feathered the Marchesa mini in
very
conspicuous places.”

A headache the size of the Hollywood Bowl exploded behind Kate’s eyes. “I told you not to tell me.”

“Sweetie,” Josh said in an overly sympathetic tone, “Redneck playtime is over. You need to come back before that singing psycho destroys more than just your relationship with your designers.”

“I’ll . . . be back soon.” Chewing her thumbnail, Kate thought of her father, the chasm left in the bakery by her mother’s death, and the project she’d just started for her party gown–deprived teen girls. Not to mention the man who’d just kissed her socks off. She heard Josh’s not so subtle warning. Hollywood or Deer Lick. Career or family.

No contest.

Kate hit
end call
and looked up to where Matt stood with his shoulders unyielding and his defenses locked tight.

When she walked up behind him, he asked, “Boyfriend?”

“No.” She pressed her lips together where the taste of him still lingered and she laid her hand on the arm of his flannel shirt. “Can we get back to where we were?”

He turned and looked at her. Really looked at her. Like he could see deep beyond the surface and into the veins pushing the blood through her heart. “I don’t think so, Hollywood.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not here for your entertainment.”

“Excuse me?”

“You.” He pointed. “Me. Nothing in common.”

Before she could blink, he was walking toward the house. “Wait a minute.” Her hands slammed down on her hips. “
You
kissed me. You can’t do that, then just walk away and act like I don’t exist.”

He gave her a wave. “Drive safely.”

“Seriously?” she shouted. “If you’re mad because I got a phone call from another guy while you were kissing me, don’t be. Josh is gay. As in, has never been with a woman his entire freaking life gay!”

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m not mad.”

She followed him up to the door. “I thought we were having a nice time.”

He turned toward her. A cold mask of indifference marred his gorgeous face. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you. You irritate the hell out of me.”

“Then why did you kiss me like
that
, if I irritate the hell out of you?”

His pale eyes darkened ever so slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame and folded his heavily muscled arms across his chest. “Temporary insanity.”

“Bull. You want to know what I think?”

“No.”

She moved up onto the step, invading his personal bubble. He didn’t back up. He didn’t back down. And neither did she. “I think you’re remembering old times and how great we were together,” she said. “I think you liked me a lot then.” She paused. No response. “I think you still like me.”

“You should probably stop thinking so hard.”

Between a wicked heartbeat and a breath, she curled her fingers into the soft flannel covering his wide chest and pulled him toward her. She pressed her mouth against his.

He probably didn’t want to kiss her again, but hey, he was a guy. And when she slid her tongue across those chiseled lips, they softened and he kissed her back. In the quiver of an eyelash he had her melting in her Chucks. She leaned in, wanting more. Needing more. Not caring who was wrong or right or even what happened ten years ago. She wanted him. Bad. A slow moan rumbled in her chest.

His hands wrapped around her arms and he tugged her against him. Yes. Now they were getting somewhere.

Mid-kiss he set her away.

Before she could ask “What the frig?” she found herself staring up at him from the bottom step.

“Go home, Kate.”

T
he hike back to her car wasn’t long, but darkness fell around her like a thick blanket and made it difficult to see. The soles of her Chucks ground against the gravel road and the wind pushed at her back—almost as if steering her away from Matt. She shook her head. Even Mother Nature knew they were one hundred percent wrong for each other. She kicked at a stone in her path. “Impossible, stubborn shithead.”

As she approached her mother’s beast of burden, Kate heard a whine from a thicket of Silverberry. She stopped and her imagination flew into action. Wolves were always spotted in the area, but they rarely came close to town. Still, it would be her luck to end up on the ten o’clock news as a wolf snack.

The whine came again and Kate realized the sound had a pathetic ring to it, not an
I’m going to eat you
quality.

She squatted down and tried to look through the bushes, but it was too dark to see anything. Then the bushes moved and a dark shape came toward the edge of the road. It didn’t appear to be very large—or threatening. Most likely a dog. So Kate made a kissy sound and patted the ground.

“Come here, baby,” she said in a low, calm tone. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” It took her several minutes of coaxing before the animal crept through the brush and Kate found herself looking into the frightened eyes of a golden retriever puppy she guessed to be about three months old.

“Oh, you poor little thing.” She held out her arms and the pup slowly walked into her embrace. He quivered against her and she could feel his ribs as his tongue slipped out and licked her chin. Too thin. Scared. Obviously hungry. Kate’s heart broke. There was only one thing she could do.

She picked up the pup, held him close, and pulled the front of Matt’s jacket around him. She walked the rest of the way to the car with the dog tucked up under her chin. As she placed him on the front seat and slid in next to him, the pup crawled up onto her lap. She smoothed her hand over his head. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll find your parents and get you back home.” The puppy’s stomach growled and Kate’s heart shattered just a little bit more. “But first we need to get you something to eat.”

K
ate struggled through the front door, her arms filled with the puppy and a bag full of puppy supplies from the Gas and Grub.

“What have you got there?” Her dad chuckled and rose from his recliner to give her a hand. He took the bag and set it on the kitchen counter.

“Well,” Kate said, stroking the pup’s head, “I’m not sure if I found him or he found me.

“So you’re playing rescuer again? That didn’t take long.”

Kate put the pup in her dad’s arms while she withdrew the puppy chow from the grocery bag. “What do you mean?”

A smile split across her dad’s face as he held her new friend close. “Have you forgotten how many dogs and cats and baby raccoons you rescued when you were a kid? You were always bringing something home, begging us to let you keep it. Your mom and I thought for sure you’d end up being a veterinarian.”

Kate cut open the top of the puppy chow and wrinkled her nose. “I might love animals but I can’t stand to see them hurt. I would have made a terrible vet.” She poured the food into a cute dog food bowl she’d also bought. The matching water bowl had a design of red with purple paw prints and yellow dog bones. She set the bowl down and her dad released the puppy. The pup went straight for the bowl.