Something Sweeter

by Candis Terry

  “You should. It’s fabulous, and I’m sure your grandma will love that.”

  “She’s passed.”

  Allison had barely known either of her grandmothers before they passed on, and she’d regretted not knowing them better. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Fiona gave her a smile of sincerity. “She was a real live wire and lived an amazing life. At the age of sixty, she even learned to fly a plane. When she passed two weeks after her ninetieth birthday and we all gathered, it was a true celebration.”

  “I never knew my grandparents. They’d all passed before or shortly after I was born.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Fiona patted her hand. “Grandparents are so special. My parents live on the East Coast. That’s why I’m so glad Izzy has Jana. She’s the best.”

  Allison nodded. With each passing day, Allison’s respect for the woman grew in leaps and bounds.

  “But I don’t think you came all the way to San Antonio to talk about my grandmother,” Fiona said. “Even as wonderful as she was. So what’s on your mind?”

  “You’re very astute.”

  “I like to think so.”

  For whatever reason, Fiona gave Jesse a curious glance, and Allison had to wonder why. What had they been discussing before she’d joined them at the bench?

  She reminded herself that she’d come here to help out a friend. Not to worry about what Jesse and Fiona talked about when she wasn’t around.

  “I know you plan to open your cupcake shop soon,” she said. “How do you feel about making cakes?”

  Fiona pushed her hair behind her ear and shrugged. “I work in a bakery, so I make them all the time. Why?”

  “I need you to create the most beautiful wedding cake you can imagine.”

  “For who?”

  “Charli and Reno.”

  “What?” Fiona leaned back, a look of astonishment on her face. “They ordered their cake over a month ago from a baker in Austin. Charli asked me first, but I declined. I was too afraid I wouldn’t give her a cake that was good enough. She’s my friend but . . . she’s a designer. It was too intimidating.”

  “The bakery in Austin burned down last night.”

  “Are you serious?”

  At Allison’s nod, Fiona’s blue eyes widened. Her hand lifted to cover her mouth. “My gosh, what else can go wrong with this wedding?”

  Allison didn’t even want to think about that. “Your friend needs you, Fiona. She needs you to make her a cake to celebrate the love she found with Reno.”

  “Of course.” Fiona glanced away. “Whatever it takes, I’ll make it happen.”

  Allison hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “Charli deserves a happily-­ever-­after,” Fiona said as she glanced wistfully at Jesse, who was busy pushing Izzy on the swing. The little girl’s delighted giggles carried like music across the playground. Then Fiona’s insightful gaze came back to Allison. “We all do.”

  Late that evening, Allison held the phone away from her ear as her sister unleashed a few F-­bombs and more than one threat of bodily harm.

  “I promise, Danielle. I’ll be on a plane next Sunday. The wedding will be over, and all catastrophes will have been resolved.” After a few more rants and implosions, Allison grabbed the bottle of pain reliever.

  Danielle also expressed her discontent with the long hours her husband Andrew had been working on the massage-­parlor-­prostitution-­ring case. Apparently, he came home too exhausted to do anything more than shower and go to bed. And now that Lily had recovered from the flu, it was Angeline’s turn.

  Allison loved her nieces and felt horrible that their mother had to work so hard while they were sick. But Danielle had Andrew’s mother to help out and a load of friends who shared playdates and were always watching each other’s kids. So as much as guilt tightened around Allison’s neck, it wasn’t like Danielle was on an island.

  By the time Allison got her to calm down, they went over the details for Benjamin Braunstein’s bar mitzvah, which, though an entire three months away, was turning out to be a huge shindig with a celebrity guest list. The original and fun candy buffet table and human hamster balls at the Seattle Center were now being relegated to a more traditional dinner at the posh Sunset Club.

  Once they’d put that discussion to bed, Allison hung up with another promise of no more delays to go home. With her father at dinner with Jana and some friends, Allison had the house all to herself. And while it was difficult to focus on anything other than Jesse or Charli and Reno’s wedding, she changed into her sleep tee and boy shorts, then grabbed her laptop to write her blog for the following day.

  She tried to coerce Wee Man up onto the sofa with her, but he was more interested in sniffing corners he’d already sniffed a hundred times. With a glass of milk and a package of Oreo Double Stufs nearby, just in case she got writer’s block, she got down to work. Cookies always helped her think. And do housework. And plan events. Cookies helped pretty much anything that exerted her brain or her muscles. Sometimes, just trying on shoes brought on a cookie attack. So writing an entire blog? Definitely necessary to have them nearby.

  After she read the comments on her last gut-­spilling blog, she felt encouraged. No one slammed what she thought, and they all seemed to relate to how she felt. Not that she needed her readers’ permission to live her life, but it was always helpful when they didn’t tell her she needed to get her head examined.

  With only one thing on her mind, she typed in her new headline.

  FINDING HOPE IN A WORLD OF WHAT-­IFS

  Time—­and the Oreo Double Stufs—­dwindled as her fingers tapped at the keyboard. The content of the blog had her questioning the possibility of being wrong about her previous observations. It included her thoughts on meeting a family like the Wilders and how they all seemed to stick together through the proverbial thick and thin without anyone’s running off to indulge in retail therapy as her own mother would do. The concept was unique but one she found highly attractive.

  Describing her feelings for Jesse was much more complicated. How did a woman who’d spent the greater part of her life in denial about love suddenly look at the possibility of a forever kind of relationship through different eyes? The answer might not be clear, but she knew it had happened. She knew that the more time she spent with Jesse, he opened her eyes and made her want things she’d never wanted before. At least not consciously.

  She lifted her hands from the keyboard.

  The power and the fragility of those newfound feelings stole her breath.

  Even so, she had to face the truth.

  Jesse Wilder made her dare to hope that the fantasy of a happily-­ever-­after could actually come true.

  A knock on the front door sent Wee Man into a barking fit that shattered her concentration. She saved her file and closed the laptop before she went to see who thought to come knocking so late at night.

  She opened the door and found every woman’s fantasy leaning against the front porch post—a hot cowboy in a hat, jeans, and boots with spurs. Not to mention the snug white T-­shirt he wore beneath an open plaid button-­down that matched those bedroom eyes.

  “Evening, ma’am.” Jesse tipped his straw hat and grinned.

  “Oh. My. God. Get in here.” She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him inside.

  “Happy to oblige,” he said, maintaining the whole cowboy thing that was sending her girl parts into an absolute quivering mass of tingles.

  “What are you doing?”

  Before he could answer, Wee Man leaped into his arms and began furiously licking the whisker shadow on his chin. He gave the dog a rub over the top of his head and back. To her amusement, he called her dog “Buddy” the entire time.

  “You’re going to give him an identity crisis by calling him a different name,” she told him, suddenly aware that his eyes were
focused on the front of her skimpy little sleep tee.

  “Better than a masculinity complex.” He set her dog down and stepped closer. “I’ll bet you call him all kinds of girly names when nobody’s around.”

  She couldn’t stop a grin. “Such as?”

  “Baby boy, snookums, sweetie pie . . . shall I continue?”

  “I have never called him baby boy.”

  He glanced down at the little dog tap-­dancing at his feet, and said with disgust, “She calls you snookums, doesn’t she?”

  Wee Man barked.

  “I knew it. You’d better bring him into my office, so I can do a full psychological exam. Probably why he’s so pudgy. He’s eating away his emotional issues.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” And why did she like that so much? “Did you come over here just to evaluate my dog’s mental health? Or was there another reason?”

  “Actually, I came over to take you for a ride.”

  And didn’t that just set off all kinds of wicked thoughts.

  “No offense,” she said, “but it’s late, and I’ve already been in your truck all day.”

  His head tilted just slightly. “Now, did I say anything about my truck? And would I wear these”—­he pointed to the silver spurs on his boots—­“if I were going to climb up into a four-­wheel drive?”

  Good point.

  “So what are you saying? That you have a horse parked outside?”

  Crickets.

  “Oh my God! You have a horse parked outside?” She rushed to the door and yanked it open.

  “Two horses, darlin’. I brought you your very own.”

  “I’ve never been on a horse in my entire life.” She whipped around and speared him with an “Are you out of your mind?” glare.

  “Now’s a good time to start.”

  “Are you crazy? It’s dark out there. And those animals are huge. And—”

  Arms with expanded biceps folded across his muscular chest. “Do you honestly think I’d do anything to put you in danger?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve looked like you wanted to kill me a time or two.”

  He chuckled with three low huh-­huh-­huhs. “You’re imagining things.” He led her outside, where, untethered, two horses munched her father’s front lawn.

  “This is Bonnie,” he said, sliding his big hand down the blond horse’s long neck. “She’s as gentle as they come. She’s the horse Izzy rides, so she’s plenty safe enough for you. And this is Sonny. He’s a Tovero paint.” He made the same smooth motion of his hand down the big black-­and-­white horse’s neck. The animal tossed his head, and Allison took a step backward.

  “He’s new to the ranch and still a little green,” Jesse said. “But he won’t hurt you.”

  “Green?”

  “Means he’s still learning the ropes. Doesn’t have much training.”

  “Is he safe to ride?”

  “For me. I’ve been riding since I was about two years old. For you? He’d be risky.”

  “I don’t like taking risks.”

  “Yeah. I got that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That you don’t like taking risks.”

  “Avoidance of the question only makes me more curious.”

  He moved closer. Warmth, desire, and promise rolled off him in waves. “I’m sure I can take your mind off all those pesky questions.”

  The implications of that sent some really interesting signals down into the crotch of her boy shorts. “Oh really?”

  He nodded. “How about you go put on some jeans and take a little ride with me? I promise to keep the risks at a minimum.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” Her hands went to her hips. “Because I guarantee that is no way to get me to go with you.”

  “Is this better?” Before she could blink he swept her into his arms and planted a kiss to her mouth that made her bones just completely disappear.

  When he released her, she nearly fell. “That’s a better start,” she said.

  “Good.” He gave her a little pat on the rump. “Now go change.”

  “Are you sure? It’s really dark out here.” She glanced at the horses and hoped that would be enough to deter him from making her get up on that huge, scary animal.

  He pointed toward the sky. “Full moon is about to come out from behind those clouds. That will be enough to show us the way. You might want to bring a hoodie or something in case it’s cool by the creek.”

  “The creek?”

  “The one that runs through Wilder Ranch.”

  “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  He opened his arms, and that white T-­shirt settled nicely against the ripple of muscle down his stomach. “I’m willing to give it all I’ve got.”

  She knew that. He’d made love to her. And she could verify that he gave it all he had times ten.

  When Allison came back into the living room a few minutes later dressed in what she thought might be appropriate riding attire, she found Jesse sitting on the sofa with Wee Man in his lap, looking at her computer.

  She’d turned it off, right? She couldn’t remember.

  “Looks like you were busy before I got here,” he said.

  “Have you been snooping?” Panic tossed a bag of butterflies into her stomach. She grabbed the laptop and shoved it into the bag on the floor.

  “That’s not my style,” he said. “I just didn’t think you might be working or that I’d interrupt.”

  “Not a problem. I was done.”

  “You sure?”

  “That I’m petrified about riding a horse out into the dark forest?”

  “Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.” He held out his hand, and after she placed her palm in his, she realized she did trust him. And trust was not something she readily gave to anyone.

  “You promise you’re not taking me off somewhere so I’ll get lost and never find my way home?”

  “I promise.” He chuckled. “In any case, I contacted your father earlier and told him my plan. I also told him you might be home very, very late.”

  “Quite an assumption that I’d agree to go with you.”

  “Well, I’m just all hopeful these days.”

  Oddly, so was she.

  After Wee Man took a triple-­whiz tour of the yard, they locked him up in the house. Jesse gave her quick instructions on how to ride, and before she knew it—­or was ready—­they took off at a slow clop through the meadow that met up with the Wilder Ranch property line.

  It took a while to feel comfortable up on the big horse, but she quickly learned that Jesse had told the truth. All she had to do was hold on to the reins, and Bonnie would take her wherever she wanted to go. Her fear subsided, and her admiration grew as she watched Jesse ride and school his frisky young horse along the way.

  Moonlight illuminated a path as long as they stayed out of the shadows of the trees. Jesse kept up a conversation about growing up on the ranch and how he and his brothers gave their parents a run for their money. She’d met four of the five brothers, and she had to acknowledge that they probably did a good job of keeping their folks on their toes.

  What seemed like hours later—­at least to her rear end, which was not used to riding in a saddle—­he finally pulled his horse up beneath a cover of trees. Allison heard water splashing over rocks and figured they’d reached their destination. When he helped her down, she tumbled from the saddle into his arms.

  Not a bad place to be. Still . . . “You planned that.”

  “Nope.” His chuckle vibrated against her breasts. “Just reaping the rewards.”

  She could barely see him through the dark of the trees, but judging by all the tingling going on in her lips, she would swear his gaze lingered on her mouth. Yet he did not kiss her.

 
“You stand right here, and I’ll make us some light.” He let her go and walked away.

  Even in the darkness, he was sure-­footed and comfortable in his elements. Her? She was imagining hungry coyotes creeping up from behind. When an owl hooted nearby, she about came out of her skin.

  Jesse gave a low chuckle from a distance. “No worries there, darlin’, I’ll protect you.”

  She hugged herself and was glad she’d brought a hoodie. At least the coyotes would get a mouthful of cotton first. “You don’t get scared out here?”

  “Scared? Not much scares me.”

  Of course not. He was too alpha for that.

  “Being out here is like second nature to me,” he said. “Once the brothers and I got old enough, we’d pack up the horses and camp out for a ­couple of days at a time. We ended up building a tree house down a ways. That’s where Jackson and Abby are building their new house, so I didn’t take you there.”

  “That’s okay. Regardless of what you think, I’m always willing to experience new things. As long as I don’t get eaten by bears.”

  “You’re safe from the bears,” he said, then he was right in front of her again, his warm breath tickling her chest. “No guarantees about me though.”

  She heard the smile in his voice, and her thoughts went back to their night out by the pool, in the shower, and in the bed. She could attest to a great appreciation for his appetite, and she quivered at the memory of all that passion.

  His big hands clasped her arms and rubbed briskly. “Cold?”

  Turned on would be more accurate. “A little.”

  “Give me a second.” With that, he was gone again. Moments later, a small campfire roared to life. Golden light reflected off the ring of river-­washed rock and bathed him in a warm glow. She held back an appreciative sigh as he made a quick trip over to the horses, then returned to the fire with several blankets, a bottle of wine, and paper cups. You had to love a man who came fully prepared.

  He waved her over. “Cocktails by campfire. Cowboy style.”

  When he spread out the blankets and encouraged her to sit down with the promise that he’d keep away spiders, snakes, and other crawly critters, she realized how much trouble he’d gone through to bring her out here.