Should've Said No (24 page)

But it turned out that she had. One good hit could’ve tied it, but the Rockies’ bats stayed quiet, and they ended the ninth with the whimper of a strikeout looking. The Rockies had gotten shut out by the Nationals.

Carden had lost the bet.

“I don’t like to lose,” he said as they left the stadium and headed to the hotel. “Just ask Travis or Gran.” He kissed Lindsey’s cheek and gave her a sly grin. “This might be the happiest I’ve ever been about getting my ass kicked.”

She squeezed his hand, her fingers laced with his. “I’m pretty happy about it myself.” She winked.

Carden led Lindsey into the historic Brown Palace Hotel, hoping she would love the grandeur of the place. They checked in, as Lindsey marveled at the eight-story atrium lobby with its stained-glass skylight. Dramatic Florentine arches surrounded the atrium, and intricate cast-iron grillwork panels fronted six stories of balconies.

“Wow,” she said. “This place is swanky.”

Carden was pleased that she was impressed. He remembered the feeling from years ago, when he’d longed to give Amanda the world. At the time, he hadn’t had the means. Now he did. He was more mature, and much more realistic, but he wanted to share everything with Lindsey.

As they headed toward the elevators, she glanced self-consciously at her outfit—Nats T-shirt, white jeans, denim jacket. “I’m not sure these clothes meet the dress code.”

“You look great,” Carden said. “Except for the Nationals logo on your T-shirt. Not sure that’s allowed.”

She nudged his biceps playfully. “Neither are sore losers.”

The bellman escorted them to their expansive suite, where everything had been prepared exactly as Carden had requested. Lights low. Champagne cooling on ice. An array of fresh fruits on a platter. A selection of beautiful chocolates. And a dozen yellow roses in a crystal vase—extra petals strewn on the bed.

“Oh my God,” Lindsey said. “This is crazy.”

And it was. Just a month ago, Carden never would’ve imagined himself here, with a girl like Lindsey, falling so hard there wasn’t any saving himself.

She stepped over to the vase of roses displayed on a nearby table, and smelled one of the flowers. “Mmm…”

“Thought you might like yellow,” he said.

She faced him with a small smile. “I do,” she said, but her eyes glistened with tears.

Carden’s heart pitched. He took her in his arms and asked lightly, “Should I have gotten red?”

She shook her head, her eyes shimmering. “It’s just…Thank you. I’m overwhelmed by all of this. It’s like some kind of fairy tale and I’m the princess. When I left D.C., all I could think about was how I could get back there.” She drew a deep breath and sighed. “But you make me want to stay in Thistle Bend. You make me believe that things I’d given up on are possible.”

Carden pressed his forehead to hers, and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”

Wrapping her in his arms, he kissed her, slow and easy, knowing they had all night ahead of them, a bottle of champagne, and a bed strewn with rose petals. He melted into her kiss, eager to give her the world, ready to give her all of him.

Chapter 23

Lindsey returned to Thistle Bend on a high. Carden hadn’t been gone five minutes and she was already immersed in the memories of their fantasy trip to Denver. The baseball game. The hotel suite. The flowers and chocolates and champagne. And the massage she’d won from their bet. Her knees went weak just thinking about the feeling of his strong and raspy hands all over her body—and hers all over his. To be fair, the poor guy had deserved a consolation massage.

All had been quiet regarding her revised exhibit proposal for the museum—at least as far as she knew. She’d changed it at Stella’s request, and submitted it to the board last Wednesday. Aunt Tansy and Uncle Oscar had been strangely quiet, perhaps having heard about the initial proposal and being pleased, but not about the correction.

Lindsey went out to check the mail, and walked back toward her Lemon Cream cabin.

It fits you…It’s bright. It’s happy. It makes people want to stop and look.

She’d think of Carden’s words every time she saw the little yellow cabin. Even the house numbers were freshly scrubbed and firmly attached. Things were looking up in Thistle Bend. She stepped inside, and opened the windows, the early evening breeze ruffling the curtains.

Lindsey had decided that resolving the issue of her being related to the Karlssons needed to start with Aunt Tansy and Uncle Oscar. She’d explain to them that she appreciated what they’d done for her, and she regretted that they’d been disappointed, but she wanted to be free of their secret so she could live her life to the fullest in Thistle Bend…hopefully dating Carden out in the open without fear of being caught by her relatives.

For now, she needed to unpack and get ready to go back to work tomorrow. She glanced at the counter where Carden had left the keys after he’d opened the door for her—always the gentleman. If she didn’t put them in her purse, they’d get misplaced, for sure. She picked them up and went into her bedroom, where he’d put her suitcase on the bed.

No purse.

Lindsey searched the small cabin, feeling a little frantic when she didn’t find it, and trying to remember the last time she’d seen it. She’d been so focused on Carden that everything else seemed like a blur. At least she had her phone in her pocket. She pulled it out and texted Carden.

Loved our unforgettable trip. Thank you! Did I leave my purse in your truck?

She got more nervous when he didn’t respond immediately. Maybe he was driving. Maybe she’d left her purse in Denver. What if she had to cancel her credit card, replace her IDs? She pinched her eyes closed.

Her phone pinged, and so did her heart.

Behind my seat. I’ll swing by with it later. Trip was my pleasure.

Lindsey breathed a sigh of relief. The trip had been her pleasure too, and she looked forward to all the others she and Carden might take in the future. She got busy unpacking, hoping they’d plan something else exciting soon. Her heart fluttered when she came across a yellow rose petal that had somehow made it into her suitcase.

She rubbed the velvety petal between her fingers, and sank onto her bed. It had been hard for her to tell him the things she had last night—how he made her want to stay in Thistle Bend, how he made her believe that the things she’d given up on were possible. He seemed too good to be true and, as he’d promised her that night in his workshop, things were only getting better.

Lindsey smiled and set the rose petal on her nightstand just as someone knocked on the door. True to form, Carden must’ve dropped everything and brought her purse right away. She hurried to the door and opened it.

Her heart plummeted.

“Aunt Tansy, Uncle Oscar. What a surprise.” Lindsey forced a smile, but neither of them smiled back. “Come in.” She moved aside, they stepped into the cabin, and she closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“We won’t be staying long,” Tansy said.

Lindsey’s nervousness had returned and multiplied. She bolstered herself for a showdown about the exhibit proposal. Stepping behind the kitchen counter, she left them facing her from the tiny dining area.

Oscar crossed his arms. “Tell us about you and Carden Crenshaw.”

Lindsey blinked a couple of times, totally blindsided by the question. She had to switch gears, and fast. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act coy,” Tansy said. “We knew he’d been hanging around here, doing work for Dean.”

“Exactly.” Should Lindsey dare feel a little relieved? “He did some work on the lights and the plumbing when I first arrived, then he scraped, sanded, and primed the cabin. One of his ranch hands did the painting last week.”

“He did exactly what Stella put him up to,” Tansy said. “Sounds like he found all kinds of reasons to hang around. Stella told him to make sure you gave the Crenshaws favorable treatment in the museum, but we thought you were too smart to fall for his game. You proved us right when you turned in your exhibit proposal asking for more time to look into the land deal.”

Lindsey felt a little light-headed. Stella had put Carden up to making sure she favored the Crenshaws in the museum? She clutched the lapis bracelet he had given her, wondering if there was an ulterior motive behind everything he’d done and said. He hadn’t pushed her about the museum—he’d donated the model town, and only talked about the Karlssons and the land deal when she’d brought up the subject. Had he tried to get her to fall for him so she’d ostensibly be on the Crenshaw’s side? Her stomach twisted and she pressed her hand over it.

“But it turns out he fooled you after all,” Oscar said. “We figured that after you changed the exhibit proposal last week.”

“It’s not like that,” Lindsey said, her voice and her defense a little shaky. “The board wouldn’t sign off on the proposal unless I changed it. If something else materializes—ever—the exhibit can be changed. I couldn’t let one detail hold up work on the entire museum.”

Oscar narrowed his gaze on her. “You don’t have to tell us what it’s like, Lindsey. We saw you and Carden on television—kissing.”

Lindsey shook her head. “What?”

“At the Rockies game,” Tansy said.

Lindsey’s pulse thrummed in her ears. She hadn’t even thought about the television angle. About being recognized in a crowded stadium. About her and Carden’s kiss being captured on TV. She hadn’t even thought…

“At first we couldn’t believe it was you,” Tansy said. “But then we rewound, and paused, and sure enough.”

Lindsey nodded, so completely busted. “Sure enough.”

“You’re our niece, Lindsey. You’re related to the Karlsson family.” Oscar’s tone was stern and vehement. “What in the hell could you possibly see in a Crenshaw? We told you about the museum job here so you’d come and fight for our side.”

“But there doesn’t have to be a fight,” Lindsey said, “And I can’t live with the secret. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and I see that you’re frustrated. I’ve done the best I can for you, but I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m just trying to do a good job, trying to build a life. How do you expect me to do that when I always have something to hide?”

Outside, a door slammed and an engine revved—too close.

Carden?

Lindsey’s heart surged. Had he been outside and overheard her conversation with Tansy and Oscar? She ran to the door and threw it open in time to see the taillights of Carden’s truck as it sped away.

No!

Her gaze fell to the porch. He’d left her purse next to the door—and a long-stemmed yellow rose.

—

Carden fled to his workshop. He wanted to throw something. To hammer something. To put his fist through a wall. His heart had been stuck in overdrive ever since he’d heard Oscar Karlsson’s unmistakable voice from inside Lindsey’s cabin.

You’re our niece, Lindsey. You’re related to the Karlsson family. What in the hell could you possibly see in a Crenshaw? We told you about the museum job here so you’d come and fight for our side.

And there Carden had stood with a yellow rose in one hand and Lindsey’s purse in the other. As if she hadn’t made him feel like enough of a fool. How could he have been so blind? That first night in her cabin, he’d seen the return address on a card the Karlssons had mailed her before she’d even gotten to Thistle Bend. Shouldn’t that have been a clue?

Carden slung a scrap of a 4x6 onto his workbench, grabbed a hammer and a box of nails. Teeing one up, he slammed the hammer onto the nail head, burying it with one strike and leaving an imprint of the hammerhead a quarter-inch deep in the wood. He did the same with another, then another, lost in his anger, pounding it out nail by nail.

“Carden?”

Son-of-a-bitch. Now he was even hearing Lindsey’s voice in his head. He slammed two more nails into the 4x6, drawing in a deep breath before each strike. Ready to knock the hell out of the next one, he inhaled, catching the scent of her perfume.

“Carden.”

He turned to see Lindsey standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the darkness, looking like an angel. His heart wrenched. No one could blame him for being tempted by her, but he had known better. The second he’d started to lose control was the second he should’ve walked away.

“I’m sorry.” She stepped inside tentatively and closed the door. “I’m not sure what you heard, but—”

“I heard you’re related to the Karlssons,” he said, his tone low and intense. He tossed his hammer on the workbench but held on to the nail, pinching it between his fingers and rolling it back and forth. “That you’re Oscar and Tansy’s niece.” He shook his head, his lips pressed together tightly. “But you know what? I really don’t care. It doesn’t change who you are as a person.”

She gazed at him, her head lowered, a crease between her eyebrows that was rarely there.

“You’re not accusing, mean-spirited, and bitter.” He pinched the nail so hard his fingers throbbed. “But you did lie to me.”

She blinked a couple of times but, to her credit, she didn’t deny it.

“Every minute we were together and you didn’t mention it. Each conversation we had about the stupid feud. Every time you kissed me, knowing what you were hiding.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, still stunned by the turn of events. “But you know what was the worst?”

Lindsey shook her head, eyes wide.

“When I confided in you about Amanda. How she led me to believe she was one person, and turned out to be someone else. Someone manipulative, deceitful. You acted sincerely upset and sorry. And the whole time you were just like her.”

Lindsey flinched. “I’m not like her, Carden. Amanda used you. She was acting on behalf of her family and she stole from you.”

He leveled his gaze on her, his gut clenched. “You don’t see yourself in that?”

“I wasn’t acting on behalf of my family,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Tansy and Oscar Karlsson are distant relatives, not even blood relatives of mine. In fact, I hardly know them. They have nothing to do with my relationship with you.” She shrugged her shoulders weakly. “And I would never steal from you.”