by Julie Benson
He’s always taken a long time to trust people, but now it’s even worse. Aubrey had said that.
He’d had more than his share of losses. Was that why life was either black or white to him? Once he let people in, they got one chance and if they messed up, they were gone.
And yet when she needed him, Ty stepped up to help. Like now with the cooking lessons. That said a lot about him. He might drive her crazy, but his character ran deep and true. As did his strength, and she’d started to suspect the good sized heart beat within that broad chest of his.
“Mom has a great recipe for quiche.” He reached for a small handmade wooden box on the counter, pulled out a card and placed it in front of her. “If you add some fresh fruit, you’ll be set for breakfast.”
She let the change of subject pass, but his reluctance to open up to her stung. “You sure that’ll be fancy enough for the Johnson’s when they’re used to Chloe’s gourmet breakfasts?”
“As long as the food’s good, people will cut you some slack. They won’t expect you to do everything exactly the way she did.”
Good thing, but just in case she’d add mimosas, light on OJ, for extra insurance.
Her mother’s voice rattled in her memory. If you’d apply yourself more and focus like Chloe, you could do so something more substantial with your life other than playing artist.
You were wrong about me, Mom. While you might not approved of me being an artist, I’ve got more drive, more stick-to-itness than you realized, and it will serve me well raising your granddaughter.
“You’ll find what works for you. Like I did when I took over running this place. I had to do things in a way that worked for me.” Ty walked across the kitchen to the refrigerator, opened the freezer, and pulled out a pie pan. “Mom keeps a couple of pie crusts in the freezer. While this thaws we’ll make the filling.”
A short time later, they’d cooked bacon strips she was sure contained enough cholesterol and fat for half the town, baked the crust and measured the remaining ingredients.
Ty turned out to be a good teacher, tossing out tips as they went, such as cooking went smoother if she located and measured everything first thing. After lining the crust with Texas size bacon, they started on the filling.
The eggs and half and half in the bowl, she checked the recipe. Beat together. She glanced at the mixer, located the beat setting, noting it seemed pretty high, but if that’s what the recipe said. The mixer whirred to life at a frantic speed. Egg and milk jumped out of the bowl, dotting the counter and backsplash.
“Turn it down!”
Cassie reached for the controls, but her hand slipped and she tipped the mixer backward, pulling the beaters out of the bowl. Still whirling at cyclone speed the beaters spewed the mixture in a wider arc, hitting them in the face and splattering their clothes before Ty yanked the cord out of the outlet.
“Woman, haven’t you ever heard of starting slow and giving things time to come together?”
She swallowed hard, and all she could think about was she’d been right with her earlier assessment. He was the kind of guy who’d take his time in bed. “I’m a kind of a jump right in kind of gal.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He grabbed the dish towel off the counter and swiped it across his chiseled features, wiping away the bits of egg and cream. Then he glanced at his shirt. “What a mess.”
“It’s not that bad. You’re overreacting.” She wiped her hand over her face, slid it across his red plaid shirt that stretched tight over his broad chest. Muscles tightened under her palm as she rubbed the goo in and patted it for good measure. Now Mr. Perfect didn’t look quite so perfect. “Now that’s a mess.”
Once Ty’s shock wore off, a gleam filled his warm brown gaze. “You’re in trouble now.”
She squealed in mock protest and darted across the kitchen. He followed, determination evident in his strong strides. She outmaneuvered him for all of a minute, before he cornered her between the counter and the back door. “You want to see a mess?”
“Not really.” But she enjoyed viewing him up close view. He had the most mesmerizing eyes. All coffee colored with flecks of gold, and right now his piercing, hypnotic gaze zeroed in on her with an intensity that could drive a woman to sell her soul for a wooden nickel. And give him change.
She squirmed, trying to escape. Her hips rubbed against his pelvis, and he sucked in his breath, while electric awareness shot through her. She closed her eyes savoring the tingles. The heat warming her in intimate spots as her body responded to him. How long had it been since she’d felt this overwhelming need?
Ty towered over her. His gaze drilled into her, but instead of the mischief she seen earlier, his eyes glowed with desire. “I’ll teach you to mess with me.”
His husky voice wrapped around her. She stared at him, her breathing coming hard and fast.
Then he grinned. A sexy, you-asked-for-it-and-I-intend-to-deliver smile that made her shiver in anticipation. His lips touched hers. His tongue flicked over her lower lip as he cupped her bottom and pulled her closer. The evidence of his desire throbbed against her. A groan she barely recognized as hers echoed around them as she clutched his shirt to keep from collapsing in a liquid puddle at his feet.
She tilted her head back to give him better access and ground her pelvis against his rigid flesh as her hand slid slipped inside his shirt to explore the hard planes and angles of him. This time his hoarse groan swirled around them.
“Ty? Cassie?” His mother’s voice reached them from somewhere outside of the kitchen.
Cassie jumped. Talk about a rude awakening. She’d been so far gone in a haze of feminine, happy hormones she’d completely forgotten they weren’t alone.
The man rots my brain. That’s the only thing that explains making out with him while his mother and my niece were in the next room.
Her hand shook as she smoothed out her T-shirt. Then she noticed her skirt was twisted funny. How had that happened? She finished straightening the garment as Ty’s mother walked into the kitchen.
The older woman glanced between the two of them with a knowing look, and Cassie blushed.
“Is there something you needed?” Ty asked. His voice calm and detached, revealing none of the heat he’d shown a minute ago. How could he turn his emotions off like that?
“Ella, Aubrey, and I are going to play Monopoly. We wanted to know if you two wanted to join us. If the cooking lesson is over, that is.” Wanda glanced around the kitchen. Her gaze lingered on the beaters and the egg mixture pooled under them on the counter. “How’s it going? It looks a little messy in here.”
“Cassie had trouble with the mixer. She didn’t realize there was a low speed,” amusement filled Ty’s voice. Maybe a little too much. As if he was trying to distract his mother from what they’d really been up to. Then Cassie noticed he kept his back to his mother and his hands clutched the edge of the granite counters.
Maybe he wasn’t detached after all.
Unable to resist the chance to tease him, Cassie said, “Seeing how you were in charge as the teacher, aren’t you ultimately responsible for your student’s mistake?”
“You got me there.” He grinned, and some of the tension in his features eased, despite the fact that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What was I thinking turning a woman who set an oven on fire loose with a loaded a mixer?”
His mother shook her head and grinned. “As my father used to say, you two would argue about whether you should walk to work or carry your lunch.”
Cassie stared at his mother in confusion. The blood flow being diverted from her brain to more intimate parts of her body had left her completely scattered. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Exactly, dear. Now you can join us or not. Just make sure you clean up the kitchen.”
Ty nodded, but he didn’t meet his mother’s twinkling gaze. “Give us ten minutes, and we’ll join you.”
Once the door swung shut behind his mother, Cassie
said, “What about the cooking lesson? I still need something for breakfast on Saturday.”
“Call Joann at The Lucky Star Cafe,” Ty snapped as he stalked to the sink, grabbed a sponge and swiped it over the mess on the counter. “She makes a great quiche. Order one and while you’re at it, ask her about cooking lessons.”
“After the lectures I got from you about cutting back on expenses when I first arrived? No way.”
“Just do it. I’ll pay for the damn classes.” His biceps flexed from the force he used on the counter. Any harder and he’d put a hole in the granite. “Now help me clean up this mess before my mother comes looking for us again.”
*
Saturday as Ty worked to clear out a space in the barn for Cassie to set up her artwork, he felt as if his well ordered life was spinning out of control and he didn’t have a clue how to stop the free fall.
The problem was the women in his life. His mom retiring and moving into town. Aubrey changing her career plan and thinking a college degree wasn’t necessary because she’d start at the top with her own business. Lauren thinking she didn’t have to pay her bills. And Cassie.
She threw him off more than the others combined. The woman had a knack for bringing chaos with her. Even when doing the simplest of things such as making quiche. He still couldn’t figure out how they went from him teaching her to cook to a hot and heavy bout of necking.
The scary thing was who knew how far they’d have gone if his mother hadn’t walked in on them. That hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. But the minute he touched Cassie, no matter where they were, he forgot everything but her.
How would he face her today? He’d pretend nothing happened and pray she did as well.
Then he groaned remembering who was on today’s schedule—a bunch of romance authors from Dallas wanting a ranch/horse research and riding session followed by a tour of the wishing well. Throw Cassie supposedly helping and taking pictures into the mix, and all the estrogen might push him over the edge.
No, he insisted, his stubbornness coming to the forefront. This wasn’t the first all women tour he’d done, and he’d survived those. He’d get through this one.
Then Cassie arrived. His first thought when she walked into the barn, a briefcase slung over one shoulder and a large camera case over the other, dressed in skin tight jeans, a white blouse and simple, serviceable cowboy boots, was that hiding her magnificent curves under those loose flowing skirts ought to be a crime. “I see you’ve been shopping.”
She twirled in front of him, and he smiled at her enthusiasm. He had to give her credit. No matter what she did, she went all in. What if she was the same way in bed? Swallowing hard he tried to remember what they needed to do before the guests arrived, and came up blank. Right now if someone asked him his name, he wasn’t sure he’d get the answer right.
“Would you help me unload the car?” Cassie asked, unaware of his discomfort. “I’ve got a box of artwork, some easels and a card table.”
“You don’t need the table. I moved one into the hallway by the tack room.” Then he nodded toward his office door. “You can put your laptop on the smaller desk in the office.”
“You made room for me in your office? Wow. That’s like being given the key to the Bat Cave. I’ll try not to get in your way too much.”
Too late.
Suddenly sharing his office, his private haven, with Cassie seemed personal. Too personal.
Hell, when he and Lauren were engaged they hadn’t spent as much time together as he and Cassie did in a week. He frowned. He was sure it said something important, but about what, his relationship with Lauren or his current predicament with Cassie? Forget it. Not knowing was safer.
“Don’t make a big deal about it. For your idea to make decent money you need to project the right image. That’s all it was about—business.”
“Still, I appreciate what you did.” Cassie flashed him a blinding smile as she flitted toward his office.
Had Lauren ever shown him that genuine appreciation? He’d helped her organize her business, find retail space, and obtain funding. Had she ever thanked him? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was she sure as hell hadn’t thanked him when he offered to share his office.
The type of client I want to appeal to, the ones who will buy the jewelry I intend to create, will not want to come to a barn to discuss the pieces they want designed.
He still could hear her icy tone and the way she’d looked around his office as if he had hay bales stacked in one corner and piles of cow manure in another.
“Your office is wonderful. Rustic and comfortable, but professional. Does that make sense?” Cassie’s excited voice floated out to him.
“Oddly it does,” he said when she rejoined him. “I know the desk is small.” He’d gone into the attic and found the delicate desk his grandfather made for his grandmother as a wedding present. The one she used to sit at to write letters to her family and friends. “You can bring in your own if you’d rather.”
“I love the desk. It’s perfect for the space, and thanks for thinking of the extra chairs. It’s like I have my own little viewing area.”
The fact that she liked what he’d done pleased him way more than it should.
As he helped Cassie retrieve her artwork and unpack the items, he vowed to treat her like any other business associate. In the boxes were framed pictures of the lake, his lands, and the wishing well. Simple stuff that should’ve been like the numerous photos he’d seen over the years, but they weren’t. He couldn’t explain it, but Cassie had a different way of looking at every day things. She focused in to highlight details where other people would take a wide shot. Then other times she’d taken wide shots where most people would zoom. “These are good. Really good. I’ve seen these places and things a thousands times, but you’ve made me see them in a new way.”
“Thanks. Coming from you that means a lot. I hope tourists feel the same way.”
“You have to have gotten compliments on your work before,” he said as he pulled out a water color of the lake.
“I have, but these new pieces are different from anything I’ve ever done before. If I can impress a local that means I’m bringing a fresh perspective, and that will help set my work apart.”
He scanned the artwork displayed on the table. “You’ve done all this work since the day at the lake?” She nodded. “I guess you broke through the creative drought, huh?”
“Thank goodness. I was really getting worried, but after that day it’s been like the flood gates have opened. I’ve never created this much work so fast. That day at the lake awakened something inside me. Something special.”
That day stirred something to life in him, too. Memories of her in his arms washed over him, pulling blood away from his brain to send it rushing to another part of his body. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore his body’s suggestion that he pick up where they left off in the kitchen.
“Maybe it’s because of the communing with nature I did. Either that or the dunk in the lake cleared my head and washed out the cobwebs.” She chuckled as she arranged the artwork on the table, unaware of how the images of them together haunted him. Had he been wrong about her reaction? Wouldn’t be the first time he’d misread the signs with a woman. Reading tea leaves was a more exact science than reading a woman’s emotions.
“That’s great.”
“Whatever the reason, I’m grateful,” she continued. “I spoke with Maddy at Wishes and Dreams. She’s agreed to carry my art on consignment, and thinks it will appeal to her clientele. She also said if she hears of anyone wanting commissioned art she’ll send them my way. I know it’s not much, but it’s a start toward getting a consistent income. I’m hoping it’s a good sign.”
By the time she finished she was talking so fast he could barely understand her.
“Maddy’s is a sharp businesswoman.”
“She told me she had a successful art gallery in Houston before she moved to W
ishing. But even before she said that I could tell she knows what she’s talking about.” Cassie lifted the last piece out of the box. “This one’s my favorite.”
He stared at the sketch of a horse and rider near the lake, a sea of bluebonnets around them. While the rider was in the distance and his face wasn’t visible, he suspected it was of him.
As he stared at the drawing he thought about the picture and her nervous chatter. Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected as she seemed. The need to know gnawed at him, warring with his common sense. Ignoring the little voice in his head insisting he quit looking a gift horse in the mouth because he might not like what he discovered, he said, “The drawing’s of me, isn’t it? Was this what you were working on that day at the lake? The one you wouldn’t let me see?”
“My, what a big ego, you have,” she teased as she stepped away. “You’re not the only cowboy in these parts, you know, but any resemblance in my artwork to real people is unintentional.”
He moved closer. “So, in your free time you’re out watching other cowboys ride around the country side?”
“Free time?” She giggled in a nervous feminine way as she straightened a drawing. Was he imagining it, or were her hands shaking a little? “Between working two jobs and caring for a child? If I gave up sleeping I’d have some free time.”
“My point exactly.” He inched forward until he stood close enough to see the blue flecks in her green eyes. If he inhaled deeply his chest would brush hers. Need rocketed through him, shocking him with its force. She wasn’t his type. Not by any stretch of the imagination but something about her drew him as surely as the night brought out fireflies.
“Keep your fingers crossed.” She stepped back putting distance between them. “The online part of my website goes live tomorrow. Everything I brought today and all the urban art I created before will be for sale. I really need it to take off.”
