Red Hot

by Cat Johnson

“Not much. Just restocking.”

  I noticed the steaks in the crate he held. “Those frozen yet? I need something for dinner tonight.”

  Grabbing fresh steaks would save me having to defrost them before tonight’s dinner.

  “Nope. You need one?” he asked.

  “Uh, two actually.”

  “Hungry? Or are you having company?” he asked, one brow raised.

  When did Stone become such a conversationalist?

  He used to be the king of one-word answers. Now, when I was trying to avoid telling him about Cash coming over, he was suddenly all chatty?

  I chose to blame Harper’s influence on Stone for this new inquisitiveness as I scrambled to come up with an excuse. “I might have company.”

  “Not Harper, right? Because I was planning on having dinner with her tonight.”

  “No. Not Harper. Uh, Bethany. She’s been feeling kind of down in the dumps lately. You know, with you and Harper all paired off.” I lifted one shoulder, nonchalantly throwing my friend under the bus with the lie.

  Stone frowned, apparently not liking the imaginary blame I’d thrown on him.

  Good. Maybe his displeasure would keep him occupied until I grabbed two steaks and a quart of milk and got the heck out of here. Hopefully before Cash walked in too. Or, just as bad, their youngest brother Boone, who always did like to chat and ask a lot of questions.

  Stepping forward, I grabbed the top two steaks from Stone’s box, while fumbling for the cash I’d shoved in my pocket after my haircut.

  Meanwhile, Stone had gone silent. Perfect. I grabbed my milk and scribbled my purchase on the list before shoving the bills into the box.

  After a quick goodbye to Stone, I headed out the door.

  Mission accomplished. I’d made a clean getaway.

  Starting the truck, which actually turned over right away without any hesitation, my next stop was home.

  But crud! I still needed dessert. Lucky for me Bethany’s was still open. This impromptu dinner was a lot of work.

  I pulled up along the curb on Main Street and parked in front of her bakery, prepared to face one more challenge. Was she in there or one of her employees? Bethany might ask questions if I was there buying a bunch of desserts.

  Afraid I’d used up my good luck for the day at Morgan’s, I held my breath and pushed open the door.

  “Hey!” Bethany greeted, happy to see me. I wished I could say the same about me seeing her.

  “Hey. Um, so what’s good?” I asked, approaching the glass case.

  “Everything is good, but if you’re asking if there’s anything special today, then yes. I’m trying out these new individual -sized red velvet cheesecakes and they came out amazing. And I’ve got heart shaped butter cookies dipped in white chocolate. I stenciled fun messages on them, like those candy message hearts people buy. They’re going to be perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Yeah. They will be. That sounds good. I’ll take a couple of both.”

  “Okay. Should I wrap up one of each for you to go or are you going to eat here?” she asked.

  Here we go. More lying. “Uh, can you wrap it? And actually, I’ll take two of the cookies and the cheesecake.”

  She glanced up at me. “Two of even the cheesecake? They’re pretty big.”

  “Yeah. That’s okay. I’m gonna, uh, bring one back to Gretchen.” I was weaving myself quite the web of little white lies today and I had a bad feeling it was going to all come back and bite me in the butt.

  Hopefully, Stone wouldn’t tell Harper that I’d said I was having dinner with Bethany. If Harper brought it up to Bethany, I’d be caught. And I’d be just as caught if Bethany came into the shop and asked Gretchen how she’d liked the new red velvet cheesecake.

  I sighed. I really was a horrible liar. But it couldn’t be avoided if I didn’t want anyone—make that everyone since news traveled fast in this town—to know I was having dinner with Cash.

  But really, why did it matter?

  I knew the answer to that. Harper, Bethany, even Stone, would make assumptions about us having dinner together. I was too confused about what Cash and I were or were not to each other already.

  If my friends knew I liked Cash that way, they’d keep asking questions and harping on it. Looking too deeply into every time I even talked to him or about him.

  It was too much pressure.

  Yes, I wanted more with him. But if he didn’t want that too, and we ended up just staying friends, I’d deal with it. I’d rather do that privately. Without an audience, even if they were my best friends.

  Bethany handing me the white bakery box tied with red and white string interrupted my inner dialogue. “Anything else?”

  “Nope. That’s it. Thanks. I’d better get back to the store.”

  Please don’t ask what I’m doing tonight. Please. Please. Please. I chanted that plea silently as I handed her the money.

  Bethany smiled and said, “Okay. Enjoy.”

  Phew. That was it. No questions. I could go.

  “Thanks. I will.” I might have sprinted out of the bakery, making my escape a bit faster than necessary, but my adrenaline was running on high.

  Good thing I’d forgotten to order a coffee to go. I obviously didn’t need the caffeine.

  But so far, so good. My errands were done and my secret was still intact.

  Now I could move on to my next worry. What the heck was I going to wear tonight for my possible but most likely not-a-date date?

  I had no idea and probably nothing in my closet.

  Good thing I owned a store.

  NINE

  Cash

  “Where are you going?”

  I stopped at the sound of Boone’s voice, my hand on the doorknob of the kitchen.

  Crap. So close.

  I’d almost made it out of the house without encountering either of my brothers. You’d think they’d have something better to do than hang around the kitchen catching me sneaking out.

  Morgan Farm didn’t run itself. Though sometimes it seemed that way with the amount of time Boone and Stone had free to butt their noses in my business.

  “Out,” I said, hoping my little brother would accept that answer.

  “Out where?” Stone walked into the room, obviously hearing the conversation from the hallway.

  I got a look at the odd, almost amused expression on Stone’s face. He looked like more of a smart ass than usual. Not at all like his regular grumpy self.

  In fact, he was acting a bit like me. What the fuck?

  “What does it matter where?” I asked.

  “Well, Mom made a nice dinner and it’s gonna be on the table in about half an hour, so I thought it would be nice if you stuck around to eat it,” Stone informed me.

  “I told Mom I’m going out, so don’t worry about it.” I narrowed my eyes at Stone.

  He was in his good clothes. And his hair was damp, like he’d just showered. And he smelled like cologne.

  Mother fucker. He was going out too. Yet he was giving me shit about doing the same thing?

  I folded my arms and glared at him. “Looks to me like you’re going to miss Mom’s dinner too.”

  Boone frowned and turned to sweep Stone with a full body glance. “You’re going out too? Am I the only one not going out tonight?”

  “Looks like.” Stone nodded to Boone and then turned to me. “And for your information, I have a zoning board meeting.”

  “You got all dressed up for Mayor Picket and the old biddies in town?” Doubtful.

  “No, I did not. I’m having a late dinner with Harper after the meeting’s over, but we’re talking about you now.” Stone folded his arms across his chest.

  “What about me?” I scowled.

  “About where you are going without me.” Boone cocked up a brow, looking most unhappy to be the only one left home with Mom and Dad.

  “I think I know.” Stone grinned. “At least I have a good guess.”

  “Oh, do you now? What do
you think you know?” I asked, cocky and confident he didn’t know shit.

  There was no way Stone knew where I was going. I hadn’t mentioned a word to anyone. I’d gone about my chores for the day without saying a thing about dinner or anything else.

  “You’re having dinner at Red’s.”

  I almost choked at his eerily accurate guess.

  It didn’t help my discomposure when Boone turned to me grinning. “Now that makes a whole lot of sense.”

  Recovering enough to respond I asked them both, “Why does it make sense? And why in the world do you think I’m doing something with Red tonight?”

  “Do you need me to remind you about how you looked when she walked into the bar to have dinner with Carson the other night?” Boone asked.

  “Oh really? You’ll have to tell me all about that, Boone.” Stone lifted a brow. “As for tonight, Red came in and bought two huge steaks and told me she was having dinner with Bethany. But Bethany told me she’s going to be at the zoning meeting and hadn’t heard anything about dinner but that Red had been in today to buy a bunch of desserts from her.”

  That was quite a steaming pile of circumstantial evidence my brothers had. But no actual proof as far as I was concerned.

  “When did you take over Mary Brimley’s duties as town gossip?” I asked Stone.

  “He is dating a romance novelist,” Boone pointed out.

  That earned Boone a quick glare from Stone before he turned to me. “I don’t hear you denying you have a date with Red tonight.”

  I sighed. There might be only one way to shut them up. The truth.

  “It’s not a date. I did some work for her at the shop. She’s thanking me with dinner. That’s all.”

  Stone smirked. “Yeah. Harper thanked me with dinner after I did her a favor once too. Look where that led.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “I’m not as susceptible to a pretty face as you are.”

  “Now he’s calling Red pretty.” Boone grinned. “No doubt about it. Cash has a crush on Red.”

  Jesus. Things had gone from bad to worse. I turned toward the door and said, “I’m going.”

  “Night, Cash. See you in the morning,” Boone said pointedly.

  “Walk of shame should happen around dawn. I’ll make sure I’m up for it,” Stone added.

  “Cool, I’ll join you. Make the coffee if you get down here before me,” Boone added.

  My fucking brothers . . . I swear. Sometimes it was like they were twelve.

  I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood to stop from answering them. Responding would have only added fuel to the fire.

  They didn’t need any encouragement to be juvenile. And I needed to get out of there before I lost the tenuous hold I had on my cool.

  It was early to be leaving for Red’s but fuck it. I’d rather hang out on her block in the truck than stay here for more abuse from my sophomoric siblings.

  I heard their laughs and continued jokes behind me. Being the stronger man, I kept walking, selectively deaf when it came to idiots. Call it a skill I’d perfected from a lifetime of having brothers.

  It was the time of year that the sun set early, so it was dark when I pulled down Red’s side street at five-thirty.

  The shop was still open for business, but I assumed Gretchen was closing tonight since I could see Red’s lights on in her apartment above the carriage house. She must be home getting ready for our . . . our what?

  Dinner felt like a nice safe generic description for tonight’s activities.

  A dinner could be anything. There were friendly dinners. Business dinners. Thank-you dinners.

  There were any number of reasons for two people to have a friendly meal together that didn’t have anything to do with it being a date.

  No doubt, Red and I were friends.

  We had been since kindergarten when the teacher had sat us alphabetically. Having the name Morgan put me right behind Rebecca Meyer, though I don’t think I ever heard anyone except that teacher on the first day of class call Red by her given name.

  The little strawberry blonde fireball had stood up, planted her fists on her hips and corrected Mrs. Parson on day one with enough attitude the poor woman never made the mistake of calling her Rebecca again.

  I smiled at the memory of a young fiery Red as I glanced at the time on the dash.

  Yup. Still too early to knock on her door.

  I sighed and glanced at the shop—the answer to how best to kill half an hour or so would be to check out if Red had gotten in anything interesting lately.

  Yeah, that was a good plan. The really good stuff sold fast so it never hurt to keep checking.

  I usually did my checking when I knew Red was working, but today a little shopping while she wasn’t around would serve my purposes of killing time nicely.

  But as I stepped through the entrance, I heard Red before I saw her. She was talking to someone upstairs. Or rather she was complaining, loud enough for me to hear downstairs. Something about inconsistency in sizing.

  “Jeepers. Even boots in my usual size don’t fit me anymore in the calves. It’s not like I gained fifty pounds. I swear I only gained like five—maybe seven pounds. And that’s all Bethany’s fault for making me taste all those recipes for her blog—”

  I knew she’d been coming down the stairs just from the sound of her stomping and her voice getting progressively louder. But the sight of her coming around that corner and seeing me standing there was priceless.

  “Red.” I grinned.

  Her big blue eyes flew wide. Her porcelain skin colored with a pretty blush and she froze on the bottom step. “Cash. Um, hi.”

  “Hi.” I took a step closer, realizing her position put her eye level with me now, when she was usually a head shorter.

  Perfect height for kissing . . . if she and I did that sort of thing.

  And why didn’t we do that sort of thing?

  With her looking so tempting, I couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

  Did that big pink sweater she was wearing over faded jeans and knee-high tan suede boots feel as soft as it looked?

  I knocked the image of wrapping Red in my arms and kissing that shocked little mouth of hers out of my head, for now, saving it to be reconsidered later.

  “Sorry, I’m a little early,” I said.

  Gretchen came around the bend in the stairs, loaded down with an arm full of clothes and shoes. Her face lit with a smile when she saw me. “Early for what? Your date?”

  “Dinner,” Red and I both corrected Gretchen at the same time.

  Red continued, “It’s just a dinner.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or not that she was making the extra effort to make sure it was completely clear to this high schooler who worked for her part time that we were not on a date.

  Of course, maybe that was my fault. I sure as hell wasn’t acting like this was a date. I should have brought something. At least a six-pack, or even a bottle of wine.

  I restrained an eye-roll at myself. A six-pack of beer from the gas station was not exactly romantic.

  But this wasn’t supposed to be romantic. It was a thank-you dinner.

  How many times had I repeated that same thing to myself? How come it wasn’t sticking?

  My head was spinning with it all. I decided to do the one thing I’d wanted to since I saw her walk into view. Tell her how great she looked.

  “You look really nice. Cozy. Which is good. It’s getting pretty cold out there.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got the heater on over at my apartment.”

  Shit. I’d insulted her.

  I didn’t want her to think I was assuming eating dinner at her place would require extra sweaters just because she lived above the carriage house.

  She only lived there because she’d chosen to turn her entire house into retail space. I had huge respect for her opening the shop all on her own.

  My family ran a farm stand an eighth of the size of hers and
there were a whole bunch of us who shared the duties. She was doing this alone.

  I scrambled to correct her misconception. “I’m sure it’ll be real toasty. You ready to head over?”

  I did not tell her that I was in such a hurry to get to her place partially because I wasn’t a big fan of heaters running when nobody was home. From volunteering for the Mudville Fire Department since I was sixteen, I’d responded to too many fires caused by space heaters.

  “Uh, yeah.” She glanced at Gretchen. “You going to be—”

  “I’ll be fine.” Gretchen tossed the things she’d been holding on the counter and physically grabbed Red’s shoulders to turn her toward the door. “Go. I can close up here alone. I’ve done it before.”

  “I know. Just making sure.” Red hesitated as her gaze shot from Gretchen, to me, then back again.

  Was Red nervous? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  But truth be told I was feeling a little out of sorts about tonight too. All the more reason to get the night started. We could probably both use a drink to relax.

  With that thought in mind, I asked, “You have beer? I can run and pick up some.”

  “You’re good. I bought some,” she said as she walked out the door ahead of me.

  “Okay. Great. Still, I should have thought to bring some.”

  “Stop. This is a thank-you dinner. You did the work. I provide the dinner. That includes beer.”

  Independent to the core, she was.

  I smiled. “All right. I accept. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Hope you’re hungry. I’ve got steak with fried mushrooms and onions and mashed potatoes. And I picked up dessert from Bethany’s.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  And it did. That was no lie.

  But as I watched Red climb the stairs to her apartment ahead of me, I had to admit something. While I was definitely looking forward to tonight, I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the food.

  TEN

  Red

  The night was going well, I guess.

  It would have been better if I wasn’t a nervous wreck, but what could I do about that?