Wyoming Cinderella

by Melissa Senate

  “Sounds like a great plan to me,” her mom said. “I’m so excited about my new role!” Molly’s mother had been a math teacher for years before she retired, and she was taking on the business and financial end and “window gal,” since she was so naturally friendly and patient. Molly’s dad was a chitchatter, too, but he’d always been the chef of the family and wanted to focus on the food. And Molly would serve as sounding board and taco tester.

  Her cell phone rang and she grabbed it. Please don’t be Zeke canceling tomorrow, she thought. She wanted that day—needed that day.

  It was Danica. “Hi, hon. I owe you one. Your boss just called to set up a meeting with me for Monday morning. He’s looking for a house in town. Thanks for sending a new client—especially one with that kind of budget—my way!”

  Molly’s heart dropped straight to her stomach. Except I didn’t. And wouldn’t. First of all, Zeke already knew his dream woman was a Realtor and his own brother had been a satisfied client. So it wasn’t like Molly was a bad friend for not handing over her BFF’s card and suggesting he call her. But Danica thought Molly did. Which her friend would take as Molly giving her blessing for the two of them to date.

  Oh, foo. This was where it would start between Danica and Zeke. A meeting. Extending to lunch. Then dinner. Then bed. Then an excited call from Danica in the morning. Then Molly, crying.

  “How was last night’s date?” Molly asked.

  “Another no,” Danica said on a sigh. “A few things jumped out at me that wouldn’t have until you gave it to me straight.”

  Molly smiled. “Like what?”

  “He was telling me that his dad has a riverfront cabin and that the two of them love to go ice fishing but then he referred to his stepmother as a ‘royal bitch’ who was always throwing roadblocks into their trips. I mean, maybe the stepmother is a terrible person. But who refers to his father’s wife that way?”

  “Ugh. And on a first date?”

  “Next!” Danica said on a laugh.

  Please, please, please, don’t let Zeke be next.

  “You’re doing great, Danica. You’ll find your dream guy.”

  “We both will. Oh, there’s my two o’clock. Talk later.”

  Now Molly felt like she had tomorrow and only tomorrow to make Zeke fall madly in love with her before Monday, when he’d meet with Danica and end up proposing to her by week’s end.

  She pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to her parents and the taco menu. If only she could change her own life as easily as she could erase a whiteboard.

  * * *

  At home that night, Molly was trying one of the black bean tacos her dad had sent her home with when her phone pinged with a text.

  Zeke.

  Your dad texted that he had the menu board ready to go and wanted me to look it over. Said it’s with you because you have the best handwriting in the fam. Good time to stop over?

  Score one for Dad.

  She texted back: Yes! And be hungry. Lots of trial tacos here.

  Always hungry for tacos. See you soon.

  Her heart soared and she raced into her bedroom and stared at herself in the full-length mirror. Bye, grubby jeans and blah long-sleeved T-shirt. She pulled on what Danica referred to as her long “slinky black sweater” and heather-gray leggings, then dabbed on a tiny bit of light perfume and put her hair up in a loose bun. Better.

  She checked on Lucy, who was fast asleep in her crib, then headed downstairs, fluffing the sofa pillows and grabbing a few of Lucy’s toys off the living room rug, and then just waited, so aware of her heightened expectations that she had to sit down.

  I have tonight. I have tomorrow. Anything can happen. Anything is possible.

  There was a rap on the door, and Zeke came in with yet another bakery box.

  “Tres leches cake,” he said, holding up the white box with the red ribbon. “To keep with the Mexican theme.”

  She could barely drag her eyes off him. He wore a black leather jacket, dark jeans, cowboy boots and a black Stetson. “Tres leches,” she repeated, trying to remember her high school Spanish. “Three...” she prompted, closing the door behind him.

  “Milks. With a delicious-looking frosting.”

  “Thanks, Zeke. You always come bearing gifts.”

  “It’s the uncle in me. Like I’d ever show up without toys for my nieces and nephews when I visit any of my siblings? Well, except Ford.”

  “Ah, yes, the other holdout,” she said, recalling him describing himself and Ford that way on the topic of marriage and children—within five minutes of his arrival the morning of her interview.

  That was how strong the I-don’t-want-to-be-a-father force was in him.

  He didn’t respond as she led the way into the kitchen. She wanted to pepper him with questions. He’d said the right woman could turn him around but she wasn’t so sure about that. Wanting kids needed to come from the inside out, not the outside in. Ms. Right might change his mind about children because he was in love, but how would that make him less conflicted about being a father?

  A heavy topic for another time. Not that she could imagine it coming up.

  The whiteboard listing the menu was propped up on the kitchen table. She’d used multiple colors and very readable handwriting to make the board appealing and easy to read. It would definitely catch the attention of those walking along the main drag of Prairie City, deciding about lunch.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He walked closer, standing right beside her as he took in the menu board, reading the descriptions. He was so tantalizingly close. “Just perfect. The menu itself, the board itself. Who could resist any of this?”

  Who indeed? she thought, the faint scent of his soap in the air. “I’m so glad to hear that. My parents will be so relieved.”

  “Now I’m dying for a taco—any one of them.”

  She grinned. She just adored this guy. “I have shredded pork and chunky chicken,” she said. “One of each?”

  “Sold.”

  Molly sighed inwardly. She wanted him sold on her.

  You have all day tomorrow, she reminded herself. And if Lucy’s presence makes him realize he’s right about his take on being a dad? Fine. Then he wasn’t the man for her. His long hold on her would finally be over. Not that it would be so easy to get over giving up hope. But she was a package deal.

  She got out the ingredients, heating up the chicken and pork in little saucepans on the stove, then warmed up the taco shells in the toaster oven. “I’ll make them for you just as my dad would. Shredded lettuce, a combination of Monterey Jack and cotija cheeses and his medium slightly chunky secret salsa.”

  “Smells so good,” he said, sniffing the air.

  “I know! I can’t resist—I’m about to have my third sampling.”

  He smiled and leaned against the counter, looking so sexy she almost dropped the plate of tacos as she brought them to the table.

  She grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge and then sat down. He took a chair across from her, a vase of short red tulips between them. Almost like a date, she thought, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  “To Tim’s Tasty Tacos,” he said, holding up a taco.

  Molly laughed and held up hers, too. They clinked them with a little flourish.

  He took a bite, his expression letting her know he loved it. “Perfection. I can tell your dad clearly loves to cook. The seasoning and flavors—really delicious.”

  “Agreed,” she said, finishing her bite. “So good!” She took a sip of her beer, then another bite. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for my parents. And me.”

  He looked at her with those gorgeous blue eyes and she almost swayed again. “My pleasure, really. Your parents are both great.”

  Her heart was about to overflow. “My mom tol
d me she sees going into business with my dad as their thirty-third anniversary present. Originally it was going to be just his thing, but now that they’re partners, they’re both so excited. They were partners in life and now they’re partners in business and can barely stop hugging each other in happiness.”

  “Thirty-three years,” he repeated. “That’s something.”

  Molly nodded. “They’re high school sweethearts—met as freshmen. My dad saw my mom standing at her locker one day, chatting to a friend, and suddenly couldn’t breathe or move. He worked up the courage to talk to her and they’ve been together ever since.”

  He held up his beer with a rueful smile. “That was my downfall—not working up the courage to talk to Danica. It was the same for me—I remember seeing her for the first time, also chatting with a friend, and I felt like I was zapped by lightning. I had to know this girl. But she had a boyfriend, then I had a girlfriend, then she had a boyfriend and we never got past hellos in a few classes.”

  Great to know, Molly thought, her heart plummeting to her toes. She’d completely forgotten her parents’ story would remind him of his own experience. Why had she brought it up? Why, why, why?

  “Funny to think that the friend she was talking to was probably you,” he said. “But there you have it. You’ve been there for two major events in my life. Seeing Danica for the first time. And opening Dawson Solutions.”

  “I’m sure it was me. Believe it or not, Danica didn’t have a lot of friends in high school because she was too pretty. Isn’t that crazy? People decided she was this or that solely based on how she looked.”

  He tilted his head, taking that in. “I guess I did, too. I decided she was meant for me just because of how she looks. Now that I think about it, in those terms, that’s pretty shallow. But I guess that’s how love at first sight works, teenager or adult.”

  “I know,” she said before she could catch herself.

  She could feel him watching her, the curiosity radiating off him.

  “So you’ve experienced love at first sight?” he asked. “I guess everyone has at some point. Even those who seem more...”

  She narrowed her eyes. “More what?”

  “Practical. You don’t seem like someone who’d get all wrapped up in looks—you’d go for personality, character.”

  “Well, I hate to burst your good opinion of me, but it was love at first sight for me with someone in middle school.” She felt a warm flush start in her stomach and trickle up to her face. “Not that he ever knew.”

  “Oh, yeah? Captain of the Mathletes?”

  She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “What makes you think my crush wasn’t a jock?”

  “I can see you having a mad crush on someone really smart and focused. A student. Polite. Friendly to everyone. Am I right?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t get to know him well enough to even know if he was any of that.”

  “To love at first sight,” he said, holding up his beer bottle.

  No, no, no. To love at real sight. To love once you’ve gotten to know someone. Surely at this age, with the experience that came with it, he had to see that he didn’t have real feelings for Danica just because she was gorgeous. She was in love with Zeke because he was gorgeous and wonderful.

  “Well, I don’t know about that toast,” she said, keeping her bottle firmly on the table. “I mean, back then, of course you figured Danica was your dream girl just because you were wildly attracted. But now you must know the two of you could have zero chemistry, nothing to talk about, stilted conversations and zilch in common. You could talk to her for five minutes and feel absolutely zippo.”

  “Well, I know that,” he said. “But I doubt it.”

  “Because of the love-at-first-sight thing.”

  “It worked for your parents. And decades later, they couldn’t be happier.”

  He had her there. “I guess you’re more of a romantic than I thought, Zeke. I mean, I’d call you pragmatic and driven by reality, by what’s what, not fantasy. It’s how you approach your work, I’ve noticed. You deal with the facts of the situation.”

  “True. All I know is that my crush on her has gotten me through some hard times in life.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Back in school, when things with my father were bad and they usually were, I’d see Danica in the halls at school and I’d forget life at home. And now, having just been burned by an ex and needing a fresh start somewhere else, I learn Danica is single. Seems meant to be.”

  She bit her lip. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Over the years, if she was feeling down in the dumps and saw Zeke somewhere, her mind would go from her troubles to how blue his eyes were, how broad his shoulders, how completely dreamy he was. That went for fifteen years ago and more recently—when she’d heard he was moving back to town.

  “Sorry about the ex,” she said. “I know what getting burned is like.”

  He nodded. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? A lot of heavy stuff in common.” He popped the last of his taco in his mouth. “I can talk to you about anything. It’s like the universe decided I’d had enough bad for a while and gave me a gift—a good friend and a terrific administrative assistant in one.”

  She did like being referred to as a gift. The friend part, not so much.

  Though of course she treasured being his friend. His good friend. She just wanted much more.

  “You know how my parents met?” he asked.

  “How?”

  “Because of tacos.”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “Yup. Tacos clearly have deep meaning for us, Mol.”

  She grinned, waiting for him to continue, practically floating that he’d given her a nickname.

  “My dad used to hang out at Margarita’s Mexican restaurant,” he said, “because Mondays through Wednesdays they had tacos for three for five bucks and draft beer was cheap. He fell in love with a waitress—Diana. My mom. She wouldn’t give him the time of day at first because she’d seen him flirt with everyone—and how much he drank. But he wore her down by coming every day and working overtime to be her knight in shining armor.”

  “Three kids later...” she said with a smile.

  “Yup. Marriage didn’t last but I did get Rex and Axel out of it. Always had Ford, of course. Then along came Daisy and Noah when my dad remarried. And then there were six.”

  “I wish I had siblings,” she said. “I have a great bunch of cousins, though, and we get together often.”

  “I know I’m lucky in the sibling department,” he said. “Every one of them is the best person you’ll meet.”

  “That’s really nice, Zeke,” she whispered, leaning a bit closer to him.

  He smiled, looking at her intently, just inches separating them.

  Kissable distance.

  Her heart was beating—fast.

  Her lips went dry.

  The butterflies were flapping furiously.

  Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me...

  Suddenly the hair stick wedged into her bun came loose and her curls fell down, tumbling and springing everywhere.

  “I love your hair,” he whispered, moving a long spiral from her cheek. He tucked it behind her ear. “It’s so wild.”

  “Out of control,” she whispered back.

  He leaned closer.

  She leaned closer.

  And then their lips met and his hands were on her face, her mouth parting and his pressing harder. Zeke, Zeke, Zeke. Oh, God, this is amazing. I’m dreaming. Someone pinch me. No, don’t. Ohhh, Zeke...kiss me forever.

  Except he was pulling away. Dammit.

  She opened her eyes to find him clearly upset, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know why I did that,” he said, sitting very straight. “I assure you it’ll
never happen again. Just got carried away in the moment. I apologize, Molly.”

  It’ll never happen again? Oh, yes, it would!

  He bolted up. “Again, the menu is great and the reopening is right on target. I’d better get going. About tomorrow—”

  “The petting zoo barn at one p.m.,” she said fast. Please don’t cancel. Please. “I’m so excited to show Lucy the baby goats and all the animals.”

  She was. That wasn’t a lie.

  He seemed about to say something, then nodded as if realizing that maybe she was saving the day for him, getting them back to the way things were two minutes ago, when a day trip to his ranch as his assistant was perfectly okay, perfectly platonic. “See you then,” he finally said, and quickly put on his jacket and hat.

  He glanced at her with an awkward smile and then left.

  Molly did a little dance, spinning around and throwing her hands up in the air.

  He kissed me. Zeke Dawson kissed me.

  He’s attracted to me. He’s falling for me.

  He called me a gift!

  No matter that he said the kiss would never happen again. That was the shock talking—at least she thought so, anyway. He’d surprised himself and beat the ole hasty retreat. More evidence that he’d been caught very off guard by his undeniable attraction to her. Molly Orton. The dependable plain Jane in pantsuits and floral scarves.

  He’d kissed her because he wanted to. And that was all she needed to know.

  And they’d be spending the fifty-degree afternoon together tomorrow, with her baby girl. Just like a couple.

  This could actually happen, she thought. I love you, Danica Dunbar, but this one is mine.