Tough Luck Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  “I get it,” she said softly.

  “Wait…what?” he asked, assuming he’d misheard her.

  She opened her bag—or as he would think of it from here on out, her weapon—and pulled out a sizeable book that must have been the planner. She opened to an interior envelope and pulled from it a piece of paper that she unfolded and smoothed out onto the coffee table.

  On it was a sketch of a storefront he could tell was a restaurant. And the sign above it simply read, Lily’s. The creases in the paper were soft, the pencil faded. She’d had the drawing for quite some time.

  He set the water bottle down on the table and ran a hand through his hair.

  “I thought you wanted out of the restaurant business,” he said. “I thought that’s why you let Tucker buy you out of BBQ on the Bluff, so you could do this catering thing.”

  She shrugged, then let her fingertips trace over the penciled lettering on the drawing.

  “Barbecue was his idea. He was the businessman, after all. And he said small town casual barbecue is what would make money over a more eclectic and changing menu…which is what I had suggested.” She laughed, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “He was right, obviously. I mean, the restaurant was in the black almost from the week we opened, and we never looked back. But that was Tucker’s dream. Not mine.”

  Well shit. She did get it. Didn’t she?

  “The catering gig requires little to no overhead, and you make a name for yourself, which will hopefully turn into your own restaurant someday.” It was a statement, not a question. Because he understood her now.

  She nodded.

  “That’s why Tucker’s wedding is so important. It won’t just put you on the map as a caterer. It can put you on the map if his famous wife likes what you do.”

  She nodded again, and her eyes got all glassy like she might cry. And dammit if he didn’t feel the urge to keep that from happening.

  “I guess we’re both willing to take risks to get what we want,” he said.

  She reached for his face, ran a thumb over his temple where she’d nailed him with the bag.

  “The bump’s already gone down.” She dropped her hand. “And yes, I’m willing to take risks, but I’m not putting my physical health in danger by doing so. You’re walking around with unhealed broken bones, Luke. And training barely two weeks after sustaining serious injuries?”

  Ah, yes. There it was. The scolding.

  He stood quickly. Too quickly, and a quick stab of pain shot through his side. He hissed in a breath before he could stop himself.

  Without another word, she stood, too, lifted up his T-shirt, and gasped at the bruises that still hadn’t cleared after those two weeks.

  “It’s nothing new,” he insisted, pushing her hand away. “I just overdid it my first night out. Lesson learned, okay? I don’t need you to tell me what I already know.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “You’re impossible. You should be resting, and you’re out doing God knows what instead.”

  So much for her getting it.

  “And you’re just as irritating as ever. Even more so when you’re occupying the space where I planned on resting.”

  “What’s wrong with your place?” she asked.

  “It’s easier for me to crash here, so I’m up when the crew arrives.”

  “What about your room at the ranch?” she added.

  “Walker’s been passed out there since he showed up on Jack’s doorstep piss drunk last night. You got any more questions that aren’t exactly your business you’d like me to answer?”

  Christ. He didn’t have to defend himself. This was his property. He owned a third of it. So why the hell couldn’t he shut up?

  She just stood there, fists clenched at her sides. They were at an impasse. If he wanted to catch even a couple hours of shut-eye, he’d have to kick her out of the room. And as much as he wanted to do just that, he knew he’d be sending her back to the place she’d been trying to escape in the first place. If she stayed, that meant the two of them would either continue like this or do what they seemed to keep doing whenever tensions ran high between them. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from wanting her like that if they kissed again. Because maybe she was right. Maybe he was willing to risk everything for what he wanted, even if that meant the only family he had outside his brothers and his aunt.

  Tucker.

  She looked at her watch. “Bakery’s opening in a few minutes. I’ll grab the paint swatches and head there for coffee and a predawn breakfast so you can get some sleep.” She started gathering her things from the table, including the restaurant sketch, which she carefully folded and put back in her planner. “I’m sorry again for—” She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and patted the so-called assault weapon. “I know it’s not my place and that you couldn’t care less what I say, but your family cares about you, Luke. And I don’t know what it is that makes you do the things you do. That’s something you need to figure out, I guess. But putting yourself at risk like you do? It puts them at risk, too. Of losing you. And as much as you pretend like nothing gets to you, I know your family does. Because you care about them, too. And I know Tucker’s a part of that.”

  She kissed him then, on the spot where she’d hit him, and somehow that floored him even more than if she’d pressed her lips to his.

  “We may be oil and water,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”

  That was all she said before walking out.

  Maybe she didn’t understand his need to push himself to the furthest limits, but she got the family bit.

  She didn’t want to see him hurt in the arena—or come between him and his family.

  He lowered himself onto his back on the futon, his legs dangling over the edge, and rested his head on his elbow.

  “Well, shit,” he said aloud. She wasn’t just giving him his space for the rest of the morning. She was backing off from whatever this was simmering between them. And dammit if he didn’t like that idea at all.

  Not one little bit.

  Chapter Eight

  The place was coming along. Not just the public part of the winery but also the production room. Even though they were several months from harvest, the Everetts were well on their way to having a living, breathing winery on their hands. Not to mention the cattle ranch they’d been running since birth. That was a hell of a lot of responsibility for three men under thirty.

  Thank the stars for Ava. Born and raised on a vineyard, she knew wine like the brothers knew cattle.

  Lily ran her finger along the wood cutout of the circular bar, one she knew would be covered with something beautiful like granite or flagstone. Even though the exterior was all straight lines and right angles, with the bar in place, the interior was a sort of circle, everything revolving around the round, central tasting area. Lily wondered what that would feel like, being the focal point of a room, the center of attention, and let out a sigh.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  She gasped and spun to find Ava standing just inside the doorway.

  “Sorry!” Ava added. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just figured you were maybe, probably, on edge a little and might want some moral support?”

  Ava’s eyes raked over the portable table that was now cloaked with a black tablecloth and set for a party of two, the center lined with silver-domed dishes resting above canned burners. The folding chairs were disguised with white covers, the chair backs tied off with a gold satin bow.

  “Oh, Lily,” she said, her hand flying to her chest. “It’s beautiful.”

  Lily grinned. “You haven’t even seen the food yet.” She strode to her friend, who welcomed her with a warm hug. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “You did scare the crap out of me, but not half as much as this tasting does.”

  Both women laughed.

  Ava stepped back and leveled Lily with her gaze. “Does the fear stem from being in the same room as your ex-husband and his
pregnant fiancée or from wondering whether or not you’ll please the palate of a Food Network star?”

  Lily laughed. “Yes,” she confirmed, knowing everything about this day had her on edge. But it was the bruised and battered man who’d knocked off with the crew for lunch who’d kept her there, teetering. “Can I ask you something?” she added.

  Ava nodded. “Sure. Anything. I told you—moral support. Think of me like a bra for your well-being, only without the pain-in-the-breast underwire.” She raised a brow. “So, how may I morally support you?”

  Lily hesitated for a few seconds but decided ripping the Band-Aid off would just get it all out there.

  “Do you think I’m a control freak?”

  Ava blew out a breath and ran a hand through her thick, red locks. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and her hands into fists, bracing herself for the response.

  “Just say it,” she said. “I can take it. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before from Tucker.”

  And Luke.

  It was his name she wanted to say. Because it was his perception of her that was burrowing its way under her skin.

  “Hey,” Ava said, and Lily felt her friend’s palm warm on her cheek. “Open your eyes, ya goof.”

  Lily laughed and did just that. Then the two women took a seat at the makeshift tasting table, both careful not to disrupt the place settings.

  “Do you remember when we met?” Ava asked.

  “I waited on you, Jack, and Owen at the restaurant. It was the lunch shift. That boy of yours almost ate me out of corn bread.”

  The other woman laughed. “You didn’t even hesitate with that answer.”

  Lily shrugged. “I don’t forget a face. Especially if it’s the first time I meet someone. And especially if they like my corn bread. But honestly, it’s just the way my brain works. I organize, compartmentalize.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I am a control freak. Even inside my own head.”

  Ava rested her hand on Lily’s. “No. That’s not what I was trying to show you. Ugh. Let me do this again.” She locked her eyes on Lily’s. “When I met you, I was way intimidated.” Lily’s eyes widened, and Ava gave her head a vigorous shake. “Let me finish.” She narrowed her gaze. “There I was—a single mom who’d kept the biggest secret from her son and his father. I loved Owen since the second I knew he existed, but my whole future changed that very same second. And I was lost. For a really long time.”

  Lily turned her hand so it was palm up and gave Ava a squeeze.

  “The day I met you was also the day Jack and Owen officially met. You walked over to our table with this bright, beautiful smile and knew exactly what each of us needed to make us smile. You made me feel welcomed when I was in so over my head. You were impossible not to like, even when I thought for a millisecond that you and Jack had a history.”

  Lily’s hand flew to her mouth, and she snorted. “Please. I knew as soon as I walked up to your table that that man was so far gone for you and likely had been for some time. How you didn’t know right then and there is beyond me.”

  Ava’s cheeks pinked. “I was way too scared to hope for it then. But I know now. The point is, Lil, that I could see you—this woman who had her head on straight, knew what she wanted, and knew how to get it. If that means wanting things the way you want them, then so be it. Don’t let anyone make you doubt how wonderful you are. You’re you, and that’s all that matters.”

  Lily’s breath caught in her throat, but before she could say anything, the winery door flew open, and Tucker Green and Sara Sugar strode in.

  Her breath caught a second time at the sight of them, and her heart squeezed inside her chest. Not because she missed him, and not because she was jealous. It was how right the two of them looked, like the last two pieces of a puzzle that made the final image complete.

  She didn’t miss Tucker. She missed what they’d never had—a perfect fit. Before their marriage fell apart, she’d resigned herself to the fact that maybe there was no such thing. It was easier than the alternative—believing there was such a thing but that she’d been unable to find it.

  But he proved her wrong. He found it. And she couldn’t hold that against him. The cheating? Yes. She could hold that against him until the end of time if she wanted. But she wouldn’t. No, siree. Instead, she was going to cater his wedding.

  “Tucker! Sara!” she said, springing from her seat. “You’re right on time. Come. Sit.”

  She and Ava both stepped back from the table, and Sara’s blue eyes brightened.

  “Oh, Lily. You’ve already outdone yourself.” She threw her arms around Lily and squeezed. Then she stepped back and clapped her hands. “I can’t even tell you how hungry I am right now. I swear, instead of morning sickness, I basically want to eat all the time.”

  Tucker laughed. “It’s true. I cannot keep this woman satisfied.”

  Immediate awkward silence ensued as the four of them stood there, eyes wide.

  Finally Tucker cleared his throat. “Wow, Lil. This is—this is amazing.” He pulled her into a hug as well. “Thank you,” he whispered before releasing her.

  “Should we get started?”

  Ava pulled out a chair and motioned for Sara to take a seat.

  “Oh, you don’t need to stay,” Lily started. “I’m okay—”

  “Bra!” Ava interrupted, and everyone’s eyes widened, Lily’s included. But then she shrugged and laughed, knowing what her friend meant.

  She gripped the back of the second chair and pulled it out for Tucker.

  After only six months, she’d grown closer with Ava than friends she’d known for years. Her friends who were married were all moving on to the next phase of parenting. She felt like every time she opened her e-mail there was an Evite for another baby shower. Her single friends were still into late nights of drinking and dancing, a phase she’d grown out of almost as soon as she’d entered it.

  She had friends. But she’d never thought she needed a support system. Yet without even asking, Ava had become that.

  Her bra.

  She snorted softly to herself and then cracked open a bottle of sparkling water, filling the crystal goblets at each place setting.

  “I realize the irony of sitting in a soon-to-be winery sipping sparkling water, but one—no vintage until next year, and two—well—pregnancy.”

  She expected her cheeks to flame or her throat to grow tight at the mention of Tucker and Sara’s unborn child but was surprised to find the words had no effect at all on her, other than reassuring her she’d made the right choice not to serve wine.

  Sara simply beamed. “You’re so thoughtful, Lily. Thank you. My midwife said a sip of champagne at the reception is allowable, to toast my marriage. But other than that, Tucker’s in charge of what will be served at the bar.”

  Tucker held up his goblet in Lily’s direction. “I defer to the caterer,” he said. “She’ll know what will go best with the menu.”

  Lily nudged Ava’s shoulder with her own. “And I happen to know the daughter of the couple that runs the Ellis Vineyard. I think we can find you some excellent vintages while the Everetts are still cultivating their own.”

  Sara and Tucker clinked their glasses and each took a sip. Everyone was all smiles. They hadn’t even started with the food, and she already knew the day would be a success. Their wedding would be a success. And then Lily would finally have a future to look forward to, one she’d put on hold for far too long.

  “Okay,” Sara said. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but I’m famished. What’s first?”

  Smiles turned to easy laughter as Lily uncovered the first silver-domed plate to reveal the first item.

  “Butternut squash ravioli with garlic brown butter sauce,” she said.

  Sara’s eyes fluttered shut, and she breathed in the escaping aroma. Almost as quickly, she opened them again, picked up her fork, and cut open one of Lily’s from-scratch pasta pockets. The three of them watched as the woman who was famous for her own kitchen creations tast
ed someone else’s.

  Sara dropped her fork and splayed both of her palms on the table as she closed her mouth and chewed.

  Tucker watched his fiancée with a bemused expression.

  Ava grabbed Lily’s hand.

  Lily held her breath.

  Sara’s head fell back as she swallowed, and for a second Lily thought she’d passed out. Or worse. Maybe she’d choked or something.

  But just as she was about to run to Sara’s side to make sure she hadn’t killed her, the woman’s head tilted up to reveal an expression of pure and utter delight.

  “Lily,” the woman said, like she’d just learned some big secret.

  “How—was it?” Lily asked.

  Sara slapped her palms down on the table, and Tucker crossed his arms and waited, like this was something he was used to.

  “How was it?” Sara repeated. “How was it? I almost climaxed,” she said. Then she turned to her husband-to-be. “We’re going to have tables of people having foodgasms if we’re not careful. Did you taste it yet?”

  She skewered another piece, fed it to Tucker, and that was that. Lily had impressed someone she’d thought near to unimpressible.

  Next came the shepherd’s pie and all the other autumn comfort foods they’d requested for their menu. With each taste Sara commended Lily on her expert cooking. With each taste Lily knew this wedding would be the launch of her new career.

  Finally, it was time for the cake. Lily tried to ignore what thoughts of cake tastings made her think of now, but it was too late. Her mind had already conjured the image of Luke Everett sprawled on the couch, her hand resting atop the ice pack that lay on his bare skin.

  Her lips on his.

  The way he drove her insides so crazy she lost all control of rational thought.

  And then the way that—when rational thought returned—she remembered how crazy angry he could make her, too.

  She lifted the dome from the last plate. Though everything had gone better than she’d imagined, she was now relieved they were at the end. The sooner they gave her the thumbs-up on the cake, the sooner she could clear out of here and get far away from thoughts of the man she vowed to stop thinking about.