“It’s so quiet…and clean.”
Angela laughed. “We have a chore list. Everyone has their own responsibilities to keep things ship-shape.”
“Callum didn’t tell me much about what you do.” She smiled down at the tiny bundle in Angela’s arms. Not long ago Nell had been that small. “And he’s adorable, by the way.”
“We think so. Though I could use a little more sleep.”
“I hear you.” Avery relaxed, noticed Angela’s hips were rocking back and forth instinctively in a soothing motion. It was neat to be talking with another mom, someone with a baby so close in age to Nell. It wasn’t something Avery had experienced much. Her boss’s kids were teens now and most of the girls at the bakery were still single or dating.
“Butterfly House is kind of a step-up home where victims of abuse get ready to start a new chapter in their lives. We help with housing, employment counseling, budgeting…that sort of thing. The kids will be along soon to mow the grass and do the weeding and stuff,” Angela continued. “During the summer the after-school program in the area kind of drops off. This gives some of those kids a place to be, even if it’s only for an afternoon a week. We get our yard work done and my contribution is snacks. Well,” she amended, “not my contribution. I oversee the whole foundation now, and we have a local director. She’s got the day off today, so I’m here instead. And you’ve kindly provided the snacks.”
Avery grinned. “Honestly I was going a little stir-crazy out at Callum’s. It felt good to bake again, but the problem is finding enough bodies to eat it. I’m used to baking dozens at a time where I work.”
Angela’s gaze turned speculative as she reached for a cupcake, keeping it away from Ryan’s curious fingers. “So, you and Callum. What’s that about?”
Avery deliberated and then figured the truth was probably easiest. And Callum trusted the Diamond family, which she knew was a big thing for him. He had to have known there would be questions today—and trusted her to give the answers.
Hmm. She hadn’t quite thought of it that way before. He trusted her. Considering how their relationship began, it was a nice feeling.
“Callum is Nell’s father,” she said simply. “And my niece. We’re just figuring everything out for now.”
“He’s a pretty private guy.”
“No kidding.” Avery smiled. “Private, stubborn…”
“…strong and handsome…” Angela continued, smiling.
Avery flushed. “It’s not like that.”
“Are you sure? I was positive I sensed something between you before he left.”
A little jolt ran through Avery at the observation. It was bad enough that she felt this sizzle of chemistry whenever she was with Callum, but heavens, was it noticeable to everyone else, too?
“I’m sure,” she lied, swallowing hard. “Here, why don’t you try one?”
Angela took the bait and accepted a cake. “Oh, my gosh, this is delicious.”
“Thanks.”
“This is what you do? You’re a baker?”
Avery nodded. “I do cakes and cupcakes for a bakery back in Ontario. I get the precision of following a recipe with the creativity of decorating and developing new flavors.”
“These really are good.” She bit into the cream cheese filling and closed her eyes. “Hey, you’ve met my sister-in-law Clara, right?”
Avery recalled the bubbly blonde who was Angela’s sister-in-law. “Yes, we met at Callum’s.”
“Clara was my first resident here. That first summer, she and some of the women had a chili cook-off at the Cadence Creek Rodeo, and it’s become an annual event. It’s coming up next weekend. We’re planning on using it as a fundraiser for the foundation, but it would be awesome if we had something a little different. How do you feel about making some special cupcakes for the tent?”
Avery thought Angela might be reading more into her involvement with Callum than she should. The last thing Avery wanted was to get too involved with either Callum or the town—nice as it seemed to be.
On the other hand, it was a good cause, and a chance to do what she did best.
“You did say you were bored,” Angela offered, an innocent expression on her face.
“How many are we talking?” Avery asked. “Seven, eight dozen?”
“Oh, at least that many. Big men, big eaters around here. What do you say, are you in? If not, I guess I could hit up the girls at the bakery in town, but they’re usually pretty busy.”
And completely unimaginative. Avery would never say so and insult Callum’s neighbors but it was true. Already she was picturing something neat in her mind, something new she hadn’t done before. This was her favorite part of her job—coming up with something fresh and fun.
“Does everyone in town go to these things?” she asked.
“Pretty much, at one point or another during the weekend. It’s the main event for the summer in Cadence Creek, other than Canada Day and the parade. Friday night there’s opening ceremonies, then all day Saturday is the rodeo and fireworks after dark. Then on Sunday afternoon it’s the rodeo finals.”
It all sounded like a lot of fun, and Avery had never been to a rodeo before. Plus it would give her something to occupy her time—and maybe think a little less about Callum. “You’ve got a deal. Just tell me when and where to deliver them.”
“I’ll call you midweek with the final details. Thanks so much for helping out.” There was a knock at the door and Angela grinned. “Looks like the crew’s here. What do you think, cupcakes before work or after?”
The house got loud and busy as half a dozen teens came in, chatting and laughing. As Angela gave them instructions, Callum drove up and—to her surprise—came to the door to fetch her.
“I’ll see you next Saturday,” Angela called after her with a wave.
Callum took the car seat from Avery’s hands. “What’s that about?”
Avery fought against the feeling that this all seemed so normal. It wasn’t. She was still a guest. She was not part of this town. She knew where she belonged and it wasn’t here.
But why shouldn’t she enjoy herself in the meantime?
“Oh, I agreed to make some cupcakes for the foundation fundraiser next weekend. I hear the rodeo’s in town.”
Callum paused by the truck. “You want to go to that?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never been to a rodeo before. It might be fun.”
“It’ll be hot as Hades. And what about Nell?”
Belatedly she realized she might be putting Callum in an awkward position, especially as he remained oddly silent. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Of course. I never thought…it’s rather public, isn’t it?” And despite this morning, obviously he didn’t want to appear as a family to the town in general.
He opened the door to the truck. “A bit,” he answered.
Her bubble of excitement popped. Well, she could still do the baking. It just meant that she would take the cupcakes to the grounds and drop them off, that’s all. She was disappointed, but she understood that Callum kept things private. It had all happened so fast; there was bound to be awkward questions. Explaining the situation could be both difficult and uncomfortable for him. He probably wasn’t even planning on going at all.
They drove home through the summer afternoon with only the radio providing any noise inside the truck cab.
And when they got home, Callum took off for the barn and afternoon chores, leaving Avery and Nell to fend for themselves.
It was nearly dark when Callum made his way inside. No lights were on and he wondered briefly if Avery had already put Nell to bed.
He’d been hiding out in the barn, plain and simple, using the exertion of physical labor to try to banish the odd feeling in his heart. He knew that feeling and he didn’t want it. It was hope. It was, he’d realized with quite a start, happiness. All because of the simple mention of Avery making stupid cupcakes for next week’s rodeo, like she was already a part of this town and a part of his lif
e.
She wasn’t. And the ache, the hope, all of it, had hit him like a ton of bricks because he’d suddenly realized that on some level he was going to miss her when she left. Not just Nell, but Avery, too. Her smile, her pretty eyes, the way her cheeks flushed when he looked at her a few seconds too long.
And that was frustrating because he’d never wanted to feel those sorts of emotions again.
But it was hardly her fault, was it? Instead he’d discouraged her and run off without another word. Like a coward.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he stepped inside the living room and realized she was sitting on the sofa, Nell cradled in her arms. Her eyes glowed at him in the pale light, still wide-awake despite the late hour. Still with the power to hit him square in the gut with their honesty.
“You’re still up,” he said, his voice low.
“She fell asleep a while ago, but we were so comfortable I didn’t want to get up.”
“Not brooding in the dark?”
He saw her lashes blink. “That’s more your style, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he admitted, and the confession took the sting out of the words.
He went to the room and perched on the arm of the wing chair. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”
“You could have spent time with her tonight,” Avery pressed. She wasn’t letting him off easily, and that was one of the things he truly liked about her. He knew he wasn’t an easy man to be around, but she didn’t let him get away with his moodiness. And she was right. He’d missed out on time with Nell. Truth be told, he’d also missed out on time with Avery. Which was probably good considering the direction of his thoughts, but unfortunately she and Nell seemed to be a package deal.
“I know. Could I take her in to bed?”
“I suppose.”
He’d washed up at the sink in the barn and so he went straight to her. Carefully he moved to take the baby, but when he did the backs of his fingers slid along the inside of her arm, skimming dangerously close to the side of her breast.
He swallowed tightly as he paused, then came to his senses. As gently as possible he lifted Nell into his arms…a feeling that was growing more natural each time he did it. It was hard to believe he was just getting used to her and she’d soon be gone. How much would she change until he saw her again? Would she be walking? Talking? She certainly wouldn’t remember who he was…
He placed her in bed and pulled up the light covers, staring down at her for a few minutes. Ontario to Alberta was no way to run a family.
But this wasn’t a family unit, was it? It was coparenting, a whole different dynamic. And he was completely at sea—with his feelings about being a dad, for Nell—even what he felt for Avery.
She was still sitting on the sofa when he went back out to the living room. He reached for a lamp on the end table but her soft voice stopped him. “Leave it,” she said in a light whisper.
He pulled his hand back.
“You want to sit in the dark?”
He barely saw the tiny nod. “It’s quiet,” she said, “and peaceful.”
And intimate. That didn’t escape him, either. He should probably leave her be and get out of there. Instead he found himself asking, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“Of course not.” He heard the slight hesitation anyway and felt guilty for interrupting her privacy. But there were things he felt he should say. Sorry, for one.
Callum perched on the sofa cushion beside her and braced his elbows on his knees, linking his hands loosely in front of him. “I’m sorry for my reaction this afternoon,” he said. “If you want to go to the rodeo, you should go. I don’t want to stand in your way.”
“I understand your need for privacy,” she murmured. “Really, I do.”
“It’s not that.” It was, but not entirely. It had more to do with how he chose to live than people finding out he had a daughter. He liked to keep his demons to himself.
“I’m not ashamed of Nell, Avery. I want you to know that right off the bat.”
She turned a little, putting her knees closer to his thighs. “But?”
“But going there…together…”
“You’re worried people will get the wrong idea.”
Her voice was flat and he closed his eyes, trying to find the right way to say what he needed to. “Not the wrong idea. There are things about me I just don’t want people to know, so I keep to myself.” He sighed. “Whatever is, or isn’t, going on isn’t anyone’s business but ours.”
“What is going on?” she asked.
And just like that the air in the room changed, grew heavier, charged.
“Avery…”
He shouldn’t have said her name. It hovered between them, full of unspoken possibilities.
“There’s something,” she murmured. “I see it when you look at me. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“God.” He exhaled sharply. He hadn’t expected her to come right out with it, not after the way they’d been tap-dancing around each other the whole visit.
“It’s not just me then, right?”
He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to have feelings at all. It was better to stay dead inside, avoid all the pain that came from disappointing people. From losing them. He considered lying to her, denying that he was in any way attracted to her. But maybe they needed to get it out in the open. Deal with it and put it behind them. “It’s not just you,” he confessed.
The tension multiplied, humming between them.
He swallowed. “It’s awkward considering the circumstances. I mean…Crystal…”
She seemed terribly close to him on the sofa. Close enough he could reach out and touch her if he wanted. She smelled like baby powder and some sort of fresh floral scent that drove him crazy.
“Of course,” she said, her voice resigned. “I’ve never quite been able to measure up to Crystal.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he could see that was how she’d taken it. She’d made a few similar remarks during her time here, giving him the impression that she considered herself somehow lacking in comparison to her sister when it couldn’t be further from the truth. “That’s not it at all. Just…don’t you kind of find it weird? That I…” He hesitated. Choosing the right words was so important and he was stumbling over everything.
“That you slept with my sister?”
It sounded horrible when she put it like that.
“Callum,” she finally said, when he remained silent. “She’s gone. None of it matters anymore.”
He wanted to believe that. And yet he knew that she still felt the differences between herself and Crystal. And she shouldn’t.
“Just because you are different than Crystal doesn’t mean you are any less attractive. You’re just as beautiful as she was, just in a different way. A quieter way.”
In a way that was the difference between a weekend fling and a lifetime. In a way that went far beyond skin-deep and right into the heart of her. He knew what it was like to feel ugly. Unworthy. There were good reasons for him to feel that way. But not her. She was the most honorable, unselfish woman he’d ever met.
“You’re the most amazing person I know,” he said quietly, but when he looked into her shadowed face he saw the glimmer of tears on her cheeks.
Shaken, he reached out to wipe them away. Her cheek was warm beneath the pad of his thumb and for a second he held his breath.
He knew he shouldn’t be touching her. Knew it would confuse everything and mix it up. And yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from easing forward, closing the distance between them. Her hand touched his forearm and her fingers tightened on his skin.
“Callum,” she said, a little breathlessly. The simple sound of his name on her lips toppled him over the edge of what was prudent. He could see her eyes clearly now, glowing at him in the darkness of the moonlit room, could see the full curve of her lips as they parted slightly, heard the way her breath seemed to hitch and her lashes fluttered shut as he closed t
he gap between them…
And then he touched his lips to hers.
Avery’s heart pounded what felt like double-time, which was disturbing since her lungs seemed unable to get enough air. Callum’s gaze held hers as he leaned closer and she felt herself moving to meet him. They shouldn’t do this. It would be a horrible mistake to make the situation more complicated than it already was.
But he was here, and he was strong and masculine and handsome and he’d called her beautiful and amazing and how was a girl supposed to have any defenses at the end of all that?
Besides, she really, really wanted to know what it was to kiss him. If his lips were as warm and soft as they looked. If the sexy stubble that always seemed to shadow his jaw was rough or soft.
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks by sheer instinct as her fingers dug into his muscled forearm.
The first contact was soft, a featherlight test that left her hungry for more. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth more firmly to his. His body tensed beneath her fingers and she realized that he was holding back. She didn’t want him to. Just once she wanted to feel like the subject of unbridled passion. Like a man was dying of thirst and she was cool, lifesaving water. She slid her hand from his forearm over to the hard, warm wall of his chest. His heart beat through the soft cotton, hammering against her palm. For a moment their lips parted and the only sound was the rush of their breathing as decision hung in the balance.
“I shouldn’t,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t.”
But she twisted her fingers in his T-shirt and held on. “I’m so tired of being the responsible one. The good one. The boring one,” she confessed. Whispering in the dark added to the sense of excitement. It almost felt…illicit. “Please, Callum. We don’t have to go any further than this. Just kiss me again, please.”
She’d set the boundary, had taken the unusual step of actually asking for what she wanted. Would he give it to her, or would he walk away?
Could she bear the humiliation if he turned her away?
Little Cowgirl on His Doorstep (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Cadence Creek Cowboys - Book 3) Page 10
