“You have the most self-control of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know about that,” he muttered and pulled out of the burger joint parking lot, heading for the highway.
She’d changed her mind about dinner after she’d gotten the text from Rachel. Matt and Trace McAllister had offered to meet them at her place to help unload the truck. She hadn’t told Landon about the plan, but it was the sensible thing to do. He’d promised not to go overboard and she was just helping him keep that promise.
They ended up spending the drive discussing the pros and cons of upholstering the benches. By the time they reached Blackfoot Falls, she’d officially vetoed any upholstery. If people wanted cushioned butts, they could go hang out at the diner.
“What’s this?” Landon asked, as he slowed down at her house. A truck was parked in her driveway off to the left.
“Matt and Trace are here to help unload,” she said.
“Trace?”
“Rachel’s brother.”
“Why?”
She waited until Landon had backed up to the garage. “Because it’ll take half the time and they volunteered.”
“I’m not crippled, Kylie.”
“Yeah, but who has the patience to watch you carry one board at a time? Come on. Let’s get this done.” She jumped out of the truck, hoping he’d drop his objections.
Trace, whom she didn’t know well—only that he liked apple fritters more than was healthy—opened the garage door, and turned on the lights.
She saw the guys hadn’t come empty-handed. “What’s all this?” she asked, nodding at the stuff that hadn’t been there that morning.
Matt walked out of the shadows. “Workbench, miter saw, jigsaw, router. If you need anything else, I’m sure someone around here has it.”
Landon moved in next to her, without his crutches. “That’s so nice,” she said. “Landon, you know Matt Gunderson.”
“We met at the San Antonio Stock Show a couple years ago.” Landon stuck out his hand and the men shook.
“Sorry about your leg. Man, you’ve been flying up the ranks. Think you’ll be ready for the finals?”
“If he doesn’t hurt himself building all this furniture.” Kylie went to the back of the truck and put down the gate. “Okay, guys, looks like I have to get up extra early to make you donuts and fritters. You’re totally awesome. Oh, and Trace, introduce yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Trace said, as he walked up to Landon and shook his hand. “Trace McAllister. Nice to meet you.” Then he pulled four 2x4s from the truck bed and walked them into the corner of the garage while Matt moved the worktable out of the way.
Kylie’s heart was pounding crazy fast. Landon had said he’d been doing well, but hearing Matt ask him about the finals? Somehow that made it seem more real.
“You know I could have taken care of this tomorrow,” Landon said, leaning down so only she could hear.
“Yes. You could have. But you didn’t need to do it on your own. Honestly, if this is about you being all macho, I swear I’ll tell everyone about that electric scooter.”
His frown was exactly what she’d expected. It didn’t help that it made him look brooding and sexier than it should have. She slipped a wood panel out of the truck bed before she let her imagination run away with her, and carried it to the spot she’d cleared earlier. She’d also made sure the built-in utility shelves were mostly empty so Landon could keep his tools within easy reach.
After she unloaded, she returned to the truck and grabbed two more boards and slid them out until she could hoist them under her arms.
“Hey, hey,” Landon said. “Let me do that. Those are heavy.”
“I lift fifty-pound bags of flour on a regular basis. Don’t sweat it.”
“Yeah, Landon,” Matt said, lifting three times the number of boards. “You should have seen her when she opened the store. No one messes with the cake whisperer.”
“Sounds about right,” Landon said, then passed her, no crutches, but with his arms full of trim molding.
After putting them in the corner, he looked around the garage while she watched him. He exhaled heavily and lost the furrowed brow. From then on, things ran like clockwork, and before she knew it, Matt and Trace were saying their goodbyes.
“Don’t forget,” she called after them. “Free donuts and fritters for a week.”
“Thanks,” Matt said, looking serious. “But none for Rachel.”
“I’ll take care of her share of the fritters,” Trace said, grinning.
“Okay, I’ll be sure to let your sister know about your kind offer.” Kylie laughed at his stricken expression.
She and Landon stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched Matt back his truck onto the street. After a final wave, Landon ran his fingers softly up her arm. It was a wisp of a move, nothing that would have meant a thing if it had come from, say, Kevin, but it gave her goose bumps.
“That was nice of them to help. But I can tell you did a lot of prep before we got here. You always did like a clean work space,” he said, almost as if he were talking to himself. “It used to piss me off how those guys that hung out at your place were such inconsiderate jerks.”
“Remind me to thank your mother, should I ever meet her,” Kylie said. “You were always very polite.”
“It was both my folks, really. We learned our manners straight off, and while we each had our minor rebellions during our teens, it was never anything crazy.”
Somehow they were standing even closer to each other. So close, she had to look up to meet his gaze. She wanted him to touch her. To give her that little electric charge. But he didn’t.
“You should get inside. It’s getting late.” His gaze roamed over her face, as if he was mapping her from the top of her head to her lips, to her eyes, then her lips again.
Turned out his touch didn’t need to be physical.
“How about you come in and I give you a drink before I kick you out?”
“A quick one would be good,” he said. “You really have to get up at four every morning?”
“Yep. Curse of being a baker.” She smiled and led him into the house, his uneven steps, one foot, one crutch, right behind.
After flipping on the kitchen light, she went straight to the fridge. “Beer? I have some wine that I haven’t tried, orange juice and, uh...” She shifted the milk to the side “...coconut water.”
“Coconut water?”
“It’s good. Want to try some?”
“I’ll take your word for it. A beer sounds just right.”
“Chicken,” she said, handing him a bottle, and taking one for herself. She knew she wouldn’t finish it, but that was okay. Just a little would help her fall asleep. Maybe stop her overactive thoughts from going to unhealthy places.
He opened both beers, and followed her to the living room. She turned on the side table lamps, which gave the room a soft glow. The couch was something she’d found at an estate sale, and it had become one of her favorite things. It was a beautiful sea green, well built and curved so one side was long enough to be able to stretch out for a nap.
Landon had walked over to the bookshelves, where she also had placed a few pictures. There were a couple of her grandparents, some of the friends she’d made since moving in. Nothing much from her old life.
She sat on the smaller side of the couch, so he could stretch out his leg easily.
Instead, he sat next to her, leaning the crutch to his right.
The smart thing to do would be to move over. Keep her distance. For now, anyway. He’d certainly given her enough to consider before she put her heart on the line. Plus her impulses weren’t all that trustworthy when it came to Landon.
Stupid hormones. Stupid handsome cowboy.
So why wasn’t she
turning away from his darkening gaze? In the quiet room, she could hear his breathing as he leaned toward her, the warmth from his thigh breaching the denim of her jeans.
“Kylie...”
The whisper was just as potent as his touch had been. Only worse, because his breath teased her lips and heated her cheek. Or maybe that was just the blush of want that was making her forget herself.
She blinked. And that split second was enough to remind her of what was at stake. She stiffened and pulled back.
Landon sighed. “Okay,” he whispered. “I waited a whole year. Guess I can wait a little longer.”
Chapter Ten
After three mugs of strong coffee, Kylie was still foggy. Last night had consisted of too much tossing and turning, and far too little sleep. Again. As if that weren’t enough, the smell of her own baking was making her slightly nauseous.
The thing was, she’d been so disappointed when Landon had told her he wasn’t sure about his future. The hurt had spread through her like wildfire as the realization that somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d wanted Landon to be the one. When had that happened? Since before she’d left Iowa, or since he’d walked back into her life?
There was a chance that he could end up quitting the rodeo in a year, build himself a fine ranch, and check all the boxes on her list. But that would mean taking a flyer on maybes.
On the other hand, he’d truly listened to her back in Iowa, understood what she’d needed and he’d waited a year before coming to find her. With the way she’d left, that was pure consideration. Just like Landon. He thought before he acted, considered the consequences, and not just for himself.
She remembered many times when he’d been there for her, whether it was helping her make dinner, or, more importantly, how he’d known to back off when she was confused or hurt by Gary. He’d been a real friend, and she’d taken advantage of his sincerity and kindness, even though she’d known he wanted more.
But what if she decided to explore what they had between them and ended up shattered? Again. It was possible. Maybe she was being too cynical, but would he have even bothered to seek her out if his broken leg hadn’t kept him from competing?
Although, that didn’t sound like the Landon she knew. Had known. Of course, she would never have imagined he’d become so cavalier about his plan.
So, she could take a risk, even with him not being certain about...things, and it might surpass her wildest dreams. Possible? Perhaps.
But she wouldn’t know if she didn’t try.
The mix of fear and excitement that swept through her at the thought was far more intense than anything she’d ever experienced before. Even starting The Cake Whisperer, which was still a pretty big deal for her. The only thing that would allow her to make this giant step was that it was for a short time. Two weeks. At the very least, at the end of it, she’d be wiser.
Of course, that would mean letting Landon know where she stood, which made the fear outweigh the excitement. At the ripe old age of twenty-six, she had literally no experience to fall back on. Gary had been it, and oh, that just made her want to weep.
The oven timer went off, and for a while, all she could concentrate on was getting the cakes to the cooling racks.
Kylie rubbed her throbbing temple and sighed.
Only nine-fifteen and she already needed to restock the display case. Evidently Landon was good for business. Folks in Blackfoot Falls loved their routine, yet customers who normally didn’t come into the bakery on Thursdays had shown up the second she opened. Everyone had questions about him.
She’d played down their relationship, ignored the raised eyebrows, even as she imagined she could still feel the way his warm breath had brushed against her lips.
They’d almost kissed. But this time, it had been different. Maybe they should’ve gone for it, but no. She hadn’t been ready last night.
“Hey, how about one of your specialty coffees to go?”
Landon’s voice made her jump, and she bumped her hip hard against the counter.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she muttered, rubbing her hip.
“The bell rang when I came in.”
She took in his worn jeans and faded blue shirt, the sleeves rolled back, exposing his muscled forearms. He certainly looked like he was ready to get right to work.
“Why are you eyeing me like that?” he asked, laughing. “I didn’t scare you on purpose.”
“Where are your crutches?”
“Don’t need them for this distance.”
“Did you do your PT exercises?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m a man of my word.” He sounded chipper. It was awful.
Dragging her gaze away from him, Kylie wiped her hands on her apron. “You had a lot of physical activity yesterday. Don’t feel as though you have to start right away. We haven’t found you a helper yet.”
“That’s okay. I need to swing by the hardware store. Maybe the owner will know someone.”
Kylie turned to get a tray of fritters she’d set on the back counter. “Oh, I should give you money.”
“Nah, not yet. I’ll keep the receipts. You left the garage open?”
“It’s never locked. Another great thing about living here. I feel so safe.”
Landon frowned. “Better not get overconfident. Even small towns have crime. And I heard you’re having more tourists visiting town.”
“That’s true. Hopefully, that will also help my coffee bar business.”
“You’ll make it a success, Kylie. I have every faith in you.”
The dark blue of his eyes tugged at her, drawing her into the place where logic disappeared. She almost wished the counter wasn’t between them.
He glanced around, and said, “I really could go for a good shot of caffeine. Just skip all the frothy stuff.”
“Well, you’re welcome to the regular coffee, which I made on the strong side. But I’m not set up to make espresso or anything like that. Not until Joe finishes.”
Landon gave her a patient smile. “How long have we known each other?”
“What does that— Four years. Why?”
“You think I don’t know you? I bet you already have one of those fancy coffee stations. You ordered it a minute after you came up with the coffee bar idea.”
“Are you implying I’m impulsive?”
“Nope. Enthusiastic.” Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Am I right?”
Kylie sniffed. “I just got it yesterday. I haven’t even had time to take it out of the box or read the instructions yet.” She’d glanced at them, though, and the operating manual looked intimidating, probably because she was tired.
“Hey, I was just teasing.”
“Smart-ass,” she muttered under her breath.
Landon cut loose a surprised laugh.
“Oh, be quiet. The stupid instructions are longer than War and Peace. Try reading them with little sleep and a giant headache.”
He cocked his left brow at her. “Trouble sleeping, huh? Any way I could be of service?”
She figured her glare was answer enough.
“Listen, I have some time,” he said, just as someone opened the door. “Let me have a look at it.”
Frowning slightly, Shirley entered with the binder of birthday cake photos she’d borrowed.
“Good morning,” Kylie said.
The woman darted a look at Landon, who turned and nodded at her, before he stepped to the side.
“I came by yesterday afternoon but you’d closed early.” She laid the binder on the counter, clearly annoyed.
“I apologize for that,” Kylie said, and grabbed a to-go cup. “I put a sign out in the morning but next time I promise to give more notice.” She poured the coffee and grabbed some cream. “Here you go, S
hirley, on the house.”
“Mornin’. We met the other day.” Landon cranked up the charm. “I must say, you look mighty fetching today.”
“Oh, for pity sake...” Fighting a smile, Shirley waved him off. To Kylie she said, “You look out for this one.”
“Oh, I do. Believe me.” Kylie met his eyes. The flutter in her chest made her turn abruptly to Shirley. “So, did you decide on a cake?”
“I have it narrowed down to two. They’re all wonderful. You’re very talented.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Landon said as he came around the counter. “Excuse me, ladies. I’ll get out of your way.”
Kylie watched him continue into the kitchen. “Wait. Are you going to—”
“Yep.”
“You don’t know where—”
“I’ll find it.”
“Of course you will,” Kylie muttered, rubbing her left temple.
Shirley stirred her coffee, but her gaze was on Kylie. “That young man sure is sweet on you.”
Kylie felt her cheeks heat, and she eloquently said, “Uh...”
Shirley just smiled.
Kylie held her tongue, opened the binder and saw the two marked pages. “Ah, these cakes are both very popular, especially for large parties,” she said, and went on to list the options.
Shirley listened, asked a few questions, and thankfully, dropped the subject of Landon.
If only Kylie could be so easily distracted. He wasn’t making too much noise but she could hear him moving around in the kitchen and she had to force herself to concentrate on Shirley’s order. Before they were squared away, Patty from the motel dashed in to pick up a box of cherry turnovers to take home.
After the women left, Kylie made her way into the kitchen. The espresso machine was set up on a small out-of-the-way section of the counter near the sink. On the floor was the box it had been shipped in, all the wrapping material stuffed neatly inside.
Landon’s nose was buried in the manual, but he looked up the second he realized she’d joined him. “This is some contraption,” he said, and returned to scanning the instructions. “It has a built-in grinder with five settings, an auto-cleaning and descaling feature...”
Stealing the Cowboy's Heart Page 9
