by Amberlee Day
Thursday was another book signing. Thankfully, Freddie had brought plenty more cases of signed Love at Home books, so all Kate had to do was take pictures with fans holding her book. Well, Brenda Lee Mitford’s books. Really, every morning when she woke up, she was beginning to expect she’d be playing Brenda Lee again. And except for the makeup and wig, she didn’t really mind. When the real Brenda Lee showed up, Kate would be disappointed to say goodbye to this new persona, and definitely sad to be saying goodbye to working with Freddie. If there wasn’t already a real Brenda Lee, she’d consider applying for the job, and not just to stay around Freddie—though that was a major perk.
Once he’d delivered her and the merchandise to the bookstore, Freddie had left her alone at this event. The reason wasn’t clear, but apparently, he had something to do other than watch Kate schmooze it up with the locals. Of course, Pumpkin was there, though the dog made it clear she didn’t want to be. Her brief affection induced by Kate sharing her cinnamon ice cream had ended quickly when it made Pumpkin sick, and she didn’t seem to have forgiven Kate for it. Oh well. The dog was as stuck-up as ever, too. As a lot of fans brought their own labradoodles to meet Pumpkin and pose for pictures, Kate was sometimes asked to not pose in the pictures, as Pumpkin apparently had more fans than the author.
The shop owner offered to buy the remaining signed copies, and Freddie hadn’t shown up yet, so when the signing that wasn’t really a signing was over, Kate made her goodbyes even though the store was still crowded, slipped out the back door, and walked home to the Cornucopia with Pumpkin. She couldn’t wait to see Freddie, find out what he’d been up to, and make him laugh when she told him all the funny little interactions with Brenda Lee’s fans.
The bookstore sat practically across the street from home, and the inn’s lights shone around it like a halo. Well, a halo with a neon sign out front. Freddie had suggested she get rid of the sign, but she loved it too much. Her parents would definitely miss it—although, if they were thinking of selling the place, maybe they wouldn’t care so much anymore. But Kate suddenly realized she couldn’t think of anyplace more beautiful than Harvest Ranch and her Cornucopia Inn.
“You know,” she said aloud to the dog, “you don’t know how much you really love a place until you realize you could lose it.”
Pumpkin didn’t respond, but at least she wasn’t pulling the leash to get away from Kate. That was a nice change.
Back at the Cornucopia, Kate’s musings almost made her forget not to go in the revolving door. She stopped just as she put a hand on it. “Whoops! Don’t want to do that, do we?”
But Pumpkin didn’t respond to that either as Kate led her around the side of the building. Maybe they were getting to be friends, after all. Or maybe she had some new plot up her frizzy fur to embarrass Kate some more.
Passing through the alley, Kate ducked under the hickory branch. Even before she reached the courtyard, she could smell that someone was barbecuing.
Between the fountain and her favorite maple tree, Freddie stood next to a smoking grill. She couldn’t tell from there what was cooking, but it smelled like heaven. “What’s all this?”
Freddie turned around, and she laughed out loud. For some reason, he was wearing her mother’s old apron. He grinned and looked down at the pink-polka-dot getup with its ruffled sleeves. “What’s the matter? Does it need a pocket square?”
“Absolutely,” she laughed. “That’s all you’re missing. How did you get all this? That’s my dad’s grill, isn’t it? I haven’t seen it out in forever.”
“Your cousin Dora helped me. She said she couldn’t find a more manly apron, but I think she just wanted to see if I’d put this one on.”
“Now she knows.” Kate chuckled.
“She does at that.”
Some inn guests passed through, smiling at them, but when they were gone, Kate moved closer to Freddie so she could see the grill better. “Chicken breasts? I thought we taught the people that thighs are better.”
“White meat’s an exciting grill challenge. It can be dry, and the trick is to make it mouthwatering. I had all afternoon to work on it.”
“My mouth is already watering.” She went to smile at him, but her eyes landed on Freddie’s lips, which were also mouthwatering. She bit her lip. Keep it together, Kate.
“Good, then I’m doing something right,” he said, but with his gentle, intimate tone, the longing inside Kate loosened up. Was he drawing closer to her, or did she do that?
“I guess you are.” Yes, it was definitely him moving closer. Must be.
“Tell you what, next time I’ll grill you up some steaks. Sound good?”
She caught her breath when his nearby scent became headier than the grill’s. “Sounds like a promise.”
“It is.”
Who kissed who first? She couldn’t tell, didn’t care. The thing about having a long string of brief relationships meant Kate had experienced a good number of first kisses. This, however, was nothing like them. Kissing Freddie wasn’t just lips meeting each other; it was caressing the place where those tantalizing smiles and teasing words lived, touching noses with someone who had quickly become her best friend, and finding places along his back and around his muscular shoulders and in his hair, just so she could find out everything she could about him. But it was also his lips on hers and hers on his, stirring and igniting all kinds of feelings from the top of Kate’s head to the tips of her toes, and more spots than she knew she had in between. She was falling for Freddie Prescott, in a big way.
Sounds from around the corner reminded them where they were, and that Kate was still dressed in costume. A scuff of shoe on the pavement, then a voice. “Ow! Sheesh ...”
McGee appeared from around the side of the building, walking backward, facing away from them. Fear jumped in her throat like a toad from Tortoise Cove, and she stepped away from Freddie even faster than he did from her, which was fast.
When McGee turned around, Kate could see the camera hanging from his neck. A cold shiver slid down Kate’s spine. That was a close one. McGee had almost caught “Brenda Lee” and Freddie kissing.
A warm flush sent the shiver running. Oh, yeah. She’d just kissed Freddie. What was that going to mean? She made herself not look at him.
“What’s up?” Freddie asked, and she wouldn’t have noticed the slight hitch in his voice if she didn’t know him so well. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. A whole week’s worth of knowing him well.
McGee looked miffed and rubbed his head. “Someone should do something about that old tree, cut it down.”
“The hickory?” Kate asked, suddenly fighting down a little panic fluttering in her chest. If her parents did sell the inn, would the new owners cut down the glorious old tree? “That tree’s been there for a hundred years. It’s a local landmark. The whole landscape of Harvest Ranch would change without it.”
McGee screwed up his eyes at her, and she suddenly realized how close she stood to him, and how light it still was outside. “How would you know the tree’s a local landmark? You’ve only been here a week, if that.”
She hiccupped down the panic. “I would think it’s obvious, such an impressive old hickory. Excuse me.”
The only thing to do was make a quick exit. She headed toward the residence via the lobby, then remembered who she was supposed to be and pivoted back toward the cabins. Only she didn’t have a key, so halfway there she spun mid-step back around to where Freddie and McGee stood watching. Freddie anticipated her and held out the cabin keys.
“Thank you,” she muttered as brightly as she could manage, and she escaped into Brenda Lee’s cabin.
McGee’s words followed her, asking once again about that exclusive interview with Brenda Lee. She kept the door open long enough to hear Freddie’s reply. “Soon, McGee. I know this has been kind of a pain, but it will be worth it when the time comes.”
She closed the door and headed in to change out of the costume. She’d come to not mind it so much
, but at the moment it felt heavy and false, and she couldn’t wait to get out of it. Beelining it straight to the bathroom, she removed the wig and stared in the mirror. The bright lipstick had gone un-smudged, but not for lack of trying. She’d have to buy that brand herself, though definitely a different color than look-at-me red.
Remembering Freddie’s kiss, Kate touched her lips. It probably didn’t mean much, sharing a moment with a man she’d known less than a week, especially since he’d be leaving in a few days. Hopefully, this wasn’t the beginning of another disaster relationship, even if hoping felt as false as Brenda Lee Mitford’s heavy, black eyelashes.
Still, she could enjoy it while it lasted.
***
Half an hour later, Freddie turned off the grill in time to see Kate coming down the cabin eight steps. If he didn’t already know he was falling for this woman, the relief and excitement he felt at seeing her should have told him so.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, keeping his voice as light as he could manage, but kicking himself that it came out so smarmy. “Here I was thinking that cabin belonged to that famous writer, what’s her name?”
Kate smiled, and the gentle curves of her lips without Brenda Lee’s over-the-top lipstick struck him as one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. “Danielle Steele?” those lips joked now. “She was there, but now she’s gone. Big rush, something about wanting to put the Cornucopia in her next book.”
“I see. Then I suppose I’ll have to tell Brenda Lee that the cabin is now available, but that she’d only be copying Miss Steele so her new book should not include the inn.”
Kate gently punched his shoulder. “Don’t you dare! I’m counting on that, you know.”
He pretended to rub a sore spot where she’d hit. “I’m well aware. And don’t you want to know what your friend McGee wanted?”
Kate bit her lip. Oh, those lips, and it didn’t help that her expressive eyes were no longer hiding beneath their disguise. His arm muscles twitched as if he was already pulling her close to kiss her again. “I heard what McGee said. He’s itching for that interview. What did you say?”
“Just for him to be ready because it could happen at any time.”
When Kate was quiet, he looked up to see worry in her eyes. What was that about? The twilight lit up her face in a way that somehow made her even more lovely, more complex. “Have you heard from Brenda Lee, then? Is she coming?”
Conflicting feelings gnawed at him, though he couldn’t have completely named them if he tried. “I had a call from her this afternoon. She’s ... well, she’s wrapping up her business.”
“I see.” Though it didn’t look like she did, and of course she didn’t know a thing about Lester and Las Vegas. Was he wrong in keeping that from her? He hadn’t said a word to Kate about it, but then it wasn’t his secret to tell. Plus, wasn’t it a big part of his job to keep that information from getting out? He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Kate said, “Then she’ll be coming here.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, and he should have felt happier that he finally had an answer, but he did not. “She should be here Saturday.”
That little crinkling formed at the corners of her eyes. Was she thinking of their time together ending? That discomfort grew, burned his chest. He shifted his weight to his other foot. Kate had to have known this would come eventually. What did she expect?
What did he expect was more the question. He’d gotten his foot caught in the door here in Harvest Ranch, which was the very last thing he’d expected to have happen.
“Then there’s just tomorrow.” To hear her voice, you wouldn’t have thought she cared a whit. That wasn’t an encouraging thought either. “Is she scheduled for any appearances tomorrow?”
“Um, there was a pig agility show, but I hear that’s canceled?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “On account of the high school ethics for animals club worrying that it was making light of the pigs, kind of a playing-with-your-food thing.”
“Weird. So that’s it, there’s nothing else on my schedule tomorrow.”
The weight of that hung between them, until Kate added, “Except the dance.”
Freddie’s interest perked. “Dance? I hadn’t heard there was one.”
“Yes. This is the first Friday of the Festival, but we have a barn dance each week.”
“Is this barn far from town?”
Amusement brightened Kate’s features, making her so pretty that Freddie thought he wouldn’t be able to resist taking her in his arms again, and soon. “Not far at all. It’s not actually in a barn, though, just across the street in the cultural hall. That big red building that looks like a barn.”
“Can’t get much closer than that.” Dancing with Kate in his arms suddenly sounded like a good idea. He stepped closer. The growing warmth and twinkle in her eyes didn’t escape him. “Then I think I might have to check out this barn dance. I’ve never been to one.”
“No?”
That invisible string drew him nearer, and without thinking to stop himself, he reached out and moved a strand of her hair away from her face. Her eyes widened, and he had to swallow down the feelings filling his throat. He leaned closer until only a few breaths separated the two of them. No reason not to kiss her now, no Brenda Lee costume or worry what people would think. Even if there was, he wasn’t sure it would change his mind. “No, but now you mention it, I don’t know how I could miss the chance to go.”
“No, I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said in a voice that wasn’t much more than a breath. “Everyone should go to a barn dance at least once.”
“Should they?”
“It’s a must.”
His lips brushed hers, sending out electric sparks that begged to be repeated. “A must.”
Their earlier kiss had been a how-do-you-do, I’ve-been-wanting-to-do-this-for-a-while kind of kiss, and it had been the best he’d ever known. This one was better. Just as the sky had deepened into rich velvet above them, so their kiss deepened. Each brush and gentle touch they shared told of need and desire, but tender feelings too, budding affection and inviting sweet intimacy. Freddie tasted both Kate’s gentleness and her sassy ways on her lips, and from deep in his gut, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.
A loud clatter broke the spell, rattling through the perfect kiss like a bull in a harvest-themed china shop. Freddie kept her close in one arm as they turned to see what had caused it.
“Oh, no,” Kate said, and despite his entire being wanting to ignore whatever it was and keep kissing her, he frowned at the sight before them.
“Ah, no. Pumpkin. How could you?” The dog hunched over a piece of the chicken he’d so carefully grilled, gnawing it and smacking loudly. The rest of the meat lay nearby, next to the pear-shaped platter he’d put it on. “That was for our dinner.”
Kate giggled—not out loud, but he could feel her chuckle—and leaned against his chest. “At least she’s enjoying it.”
“Wonderful.”
“But it does look delicious,” she laughed, turning to him until they were only inches away again. “Promise me you’ll cook for me again sometime?”
“Promise,” he said, glad she wanted him to and letting her nearness soothe the disappointment.
She kissed him again and slid a hand over his back. He almost completely forgot about the chicken, and about every other thing in the world, until something suddenly struck him as not quite right. Reluctantly, he let the kiss end.
Kate’s eyes sparkled until she saw the look on his face. “What?”
Freddie squeezed her arms and looked back at the dog. “It’s just that Pumpkin’s never gotten into things like that before. I’ve seen Brenda Lee leave out all kinds of things, and she’s never bothered with it.”
They both studied the dog. She had finished eating one piece and moved on to another. Her head bobbed manically as she wolfed it down, the courtyard lights bouncing around on her light brown head as she moved.
“Pumpkin?” Freddie said, but the dog didn’t look up. He whistled to get her attention and bent down for a better look. Bent way down. “Pumpkin.”
She finally looked up, and he could see her square nose that was normally narrower on the bottom, the brownish curls around her face. The clincher was the rest of the view he could see from down there.
Pumpkin wasn’t a she.
“This isn’t Pumpkin.” How had he not noticed? This was a labradoodle, alright, but not the right dog, not even the right gender. He’d lost Brenda Lee’s dog. A list of problems and consequences scrolled through his head like ticker tape. Brenda would leave the agency. She loved that dog. She’d sue him, and Freddie’s career would be over. His father ...
A lump stuck in his throat. He’d almost forgotten Kate was there until her voice came out in a squeak.
“I brought home the wrong dog.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not her. That’s ... that’s a boy dog! Did you see?”
“I ...” He looked again, just to be sure, since his head was starting to spin. “I saw.”
“It’s the wrong dog, because I must have brought home the wrong labradoodle.”
Fear for his own situation dissolved—he’d figure that out later. The look in Kate’s eyes spurred on something else in him: She was upset, and he had to fix this.
Freddie grabbed Pumpkin’s leash with one hand and Kate’s hand with the other. “Come on, we’ll figure this.”
Since the bookstore was literally a two-minute walk from the Cornucopia, it didn’t take long to get there. It took even less time to see what had happened to the real Pumpkin.
Even though the sun had gone down, the bookstore was still open and packed full of customers. The store had used a backdrop Freddie brought from Brenda Lee’s publisher, a nine-foot-tall plastic sheet with pictures of the whole Love at Home series, plus a larger-than-life picture of a smiling Pumpkin, who starred in Brenda Lee’s otherwise fictional books. During the book signing earlier, Kate and Pumpkin must have posed for pictures with fans there.
