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Sarsaparilla Showdown (River's End Ranch Book 14)

Page 8

by Caroline Lee


  It felt good—right—to be sitting beside her on the piano bench, teasing each other. He smiled. “Show me.”

  She pulled out some sheet music, and Shawn saw a simple arrangement of Vivaldi’s Spring. “I played this for the wedding back in September.”

  “Jace and Dink’s?”

  “And Will and Ellie’s. It was a double wedding. Actually” —she paused in her set-up— “it was only going to be a regular wedding up until the day before, I think.” Puffing up proudly, she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “And I was the one who told Jace and Dink they should get married that day.”

  “So what you’re saying is, you’ve got some matchmaking tendencies?” He resisted the urge to bump his shoulder against hers, the way she’d done to him.

  “Absolutely,” she laughed. “But I’m not the worst around these parts. Why, I could tell you stories—”

  He wasn’t going to last if he had to listen to how people around him had found love. It was hard enough to realize he was falling in love with her, while she only thought of him as a friend, without having his nose rubbed in it. So instead he cleared his throat to interrupt her. “Are you stalling, Miss Mayfield?”

  “Yep, but I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  He chuckled along with her, but then she finally shook out her fingers, took a deep breath, and began to play.

  Sadie was pretty good. Not brilliant, but competent enough to tell him that she’d taken years of lessons without ever doing much with her skill. He watched her fingers for a minute, studying her technique, before closing his eyes to listen to the music. She missed a note or two, and they were slightly out of beat, but the music seeped in through his skin and into his chest in a way it never did when he played, or when he worked with a student.

  Unable to contain himself, he placed his fingers on the opposite end of the keyboard, and joined her in a whimsical accompaniment. It wasn’t from Vivaldi’s original score, but Shawn had always been able to improvise music easily. His harmony intertwined effortlessly with her careful notes, lending the whole piece a sort of playful joyfulness that reflected the way he felt, sitting beside her at a piano.

  When they finished, there was a hushed moment of waiting, and then the coffee shop erupted in applause and cheers.

  Truthfully, he’d forgotten they had an audience. In the time he’d been sitting beside her, he’d forgotten there was anything more to the world than just the two of them. He turned slowly, surprised to find her patrons actually on their feet, still clapping. That’s when she buried her face into his chest, her hands covering her cheeks.

  “Tell them to stop listening.”

  He chuckled at her embarrassment, and wrapped one arm around her, still twisted on the bench. Waving with his other hand, he remembered the rush that came from performing on stage. It was a long-ago feeling, one that had always made him feel good.

  Almost as good as holding her felt.

  Sadie was soft and perfect in his arms, and he forced himself to remember they were friends. She’d turned to him for comfort because she saw him as a friend.

  So he sent another grin to the patrons who were now milling around, chatting about the fare and the entertainment, and turned them both back towards the piano. Once he was sure their backs were firmly to the others in the shop, he gave her an extra squeeze.

  “You can come out now, if you want.” Although honestly, he’d be fine holding her for the rest of the day. For the rest of forever, he was beginning to suspect.

  “Are they all still watching?” Her muffled voice came from his chest, and he felt her hands shift to his shirtfront, as if she was holding on to him.

  A quick glance over his shoulder told him that most people had gone back to their business. “No,” he told her reluctantly, knowing he was going to lose her tingling warmth soon.

  Sure enough, he felt her take a deep breath, and she slowly sat up. Her hands, however, remained firmly gripped around the flannel fabric of his shirt, so she didn’t go far.

  “Sorry,” she said, her big chocolaty eyes meeting his with a hint of embarrassment. “I just didn’t expect…”

  When she trailed off, he tried to figure out what she meant. “The applause?”

  “No, I…” Another deep breath, and her gaze dropped to his lips. He felt his body immediately react, and had to tamp down the urge to pull her closer. “That was beautiful, Shawn. I mean, sharing that with you.” She licked her own lower lip nervously. “And then it was just a surprise to remember that we weren’t alone.”

  He lifted one hand to her cheek, forcing her to look up at him once more. Her skin felt so soft, so warm, against his palm, and more than anything else, he wanted to kiss her. To find out if she tasted as good as her ice cream. To find out if she was as perfect for him as he was beginning to suspect.

  “I thought it was beautiful too, Sadie. I loved sharing that with you.”

  “It was perfect, wasn’t it?” she whispered.

  “Pretty perfect,” he agreed, echoing the compliment he’d accidentally let slip earlier.

  From the flash of recognition in her eyes, she’d understood that too.

  “I knew you’d be a wonderful piano player, Shawn, but that was… That was special.”

  Their faces were so close together now that they were whispering back and forth. Shawn swallowed, forcing aside the constant feeling of failure and willing himself to take the leap to say what needed saying. “It’s probably because we get along so well. We’re well-matched.”

  “Why do you think that is?” If he wasn’t mistaken, she was holding her breath.

  He swallowed. “Because we’re such good friends?” And then he winced, because even to his ears the excuse sounded false, like he was blindly guessing.

  And when she straightened, sitting up a bit without dropping her hold on his shirt, Shawn was afraid he’d lost her. His hand was still clasped against her cheek, but her eyes flicked off to the side and she darted her tongue across that plump lower lip again.

  Shawn almost groaned.

  “The problem is, Shawn…” She still didn’t meet his eyes when she took a deep breath, which made her chest press against her apron in all sorts of interesting ways. “The problem is that I don’t think I can pretend to be just friends anymore.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “Wh—what do you mean?”

  Another deep breath. “I mean…” She finally looked up at him, and he saw something in her chocolate eyes that looked a lot like desperation. “That I thought I could lie to myself, thought I could pretend we could be just friends. But being around you is doing all sorts of things to my insides, and I really, really want to kiss you. I know that I’m probably not your type—”

  But Shawn had stopped listening after the word kiss. “Oh, thank God,” he murmured reverently, as he pulled her close enough to press his lips to hers.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  So, maybe she hadn’t been quite as embarrassed as she’d pretended to be. Maybe she’d taken their surprise audience’s applause as an excuse to touch Shawn, to bury her face against his firm chest and to breathe in his male scent. Maybe she’d been smiling against his flannel, until she’d realized she couldn’t contain herself any longer, and was going to have to confess her not-at-all-friendly feelings towards him.

  It had obviously worked.

  The kiss was everything she’d hoped it would be. Everything she’d suspected, in the days she’d spent thinking about the way his casual touches made her feel. With his hand still cupping her cheek, this kiss was the most incredible thing she could imagine.

  Better than ice cream, even. Better than triple-fudge dark chocolate peanut butter ice cream, if such a thing was possible. Ice cream certainly never made her legs go numb and her breath whoosh out of her lungs and her heart hammer madly in her chest the way his kiss did.

  When he pulled back, she almost went with him, following blindly like a little lost puppy. She may have even whimpered a bit, which was mortif
ying but completely understandable, she assured herself.

  “Sadie,” he whispered, his eyes closed as if in pain, his hand still cupping her cheek. “Sadie…”

  She searched his face frantically, wondering if he was regretting the kiss already. Wondering why his brows were drawn in, the little wrinkles between them so close she could kiss them. “Shawn, I…”

  No, she wasn’t going to apologize. Not for finally confessing what was in her heart.

  “Sadie, I don’t think I can be just friends with you either.”

  She exhaled, slowly and softly, as his words registered. He…he liked her. More than “just friends,” like she’d assumed? Well, that kiss had been an indicator, but she’d practically thrown herself at him, so it probably shouldn’t count. But he was gorgeous and special and the way he smelled did funny things to her insides. Why would he want to be anything more than friends with a plump bookaholic who spent all her free time perfecting ice cream recipes?

  “I don’t think I understand, Shawn.”

  Abruptly, he rocked back on the bench and whispered something that sounded like a curse word under his breath. When his stunning green eyes pierced her, the desperation she saw there took her breath away.

  “Come on,” he said, dropping his hand to hers and tugging her upright. “I can’t explain here.”

  “Wh—why not?” she asked as she stumbled slightly trying to get around the bench. He caught her in one muscly arm and pulled her up against his side. It felt so good, so right, that Sadie snapped her mouth shut.

  “Because there are too many people watching. Let’s go.” He reached the door and pulled down her coat from the hooks, holding it while she dazedly shoved her arms in and buttoned it up.

  There were people here, and too many of them were sending them sidelong glances and grinning. Had they all just watched her throw herself at Shawn? Had they witnessed that incredible kiss?

  Sadie groaned aloud when she noticed Julia standing behind the counter, grinning widely. When her best friend saw she’d claimed Sadie’s attention, she wiggled her fingers enthusiastically and mouthed, “Have fun!”

  Sadie stuck her tongue out at the exact moment that Shawn pulled her toward the front door.

  It was snowing outside. Sadie blinked muzzily at the street outside her Saloon, always liking the way the Old West Town looked with a fresh snowfall, but not quite seeing it today. She glanced at Shawn and saw him tugging down his wool cap with his gloved hands, looking impatiently out at the world. So she hurried to pull on her gloves and lift the hood that was attached to her wool coat.

  She’d just finished when he grabbed her hand and pulled her past her propped-up sign and off the boardwalk, his long legs eating up the ground so quickly, she had to jog to catch up. It was beautiful out here, and just as soon as she could catch her breath and slow down to enjoy the sights, she would.

  But he had other plans; still holding her hand, he practically dragged her along the main street, until she stumbled a second time. “Whoa,” she finally protested, dragging him to a stop. “What’s the rush?”

  “The rush?” He whirled around, and she was shocked to see frustration written all over his face. “The rush is that I am pretty da—” Shawn snapped his mouth closed on whatever he was going to say, and stared at her intently as he visibly struggled to calm his breathing. Finally, he inhaled deeply and continued. “I’ve passed the point of wanting to kiss you, Sadie. Now that I’ve tasted you once, I need to.” The intensity in those clear green eyes made her own breath catch. “If I don’t drag you someplace private in the next minute and a half and kiss you again, I’m pretty sure I’m going to explode.”

  Gosh.

  Sadie thought she might’ve nodded, but she was too shocked by his words—his wonderful, romantic, stupidly grandiose words—to know for sure. He needed to kiss her?

  Not as much as I need to kiss you, mister.

  Not objecting when he began to pull her down the street once more, Sadie glanced up at the sky, at the big fat snowflakes drifting down. Was this a dream? It kinda felt like a dream. The man of her dreams had just confessed to needing to kiss her, which was pretty incredible. She’d spent so long thinking of herself as…well, as someone who had to be outgoing and friendly and charming to convince people to like her. Someone who was good at being “just friends.”

  And now it turned out that Shawn McAllister—Mr. Hottie—was attracted to her?

  Sadie grinned at the clouds and skipped a little beside him.

  Finally, they reached the end of the row of buildings, near the newly occupied blacksmith shop, and he pulled her around the corner of the building. Out of sight of the dozen or so guests who’d been milling around the Old West Town, enjoying the fresh snowfall, they both slowed their frantic pace, and his fingers tightened around hers.

  Out here, the meadow stretched for a while, and there were copses of trees, already covered in a light dusting of white. Even the small amount of snow on the ground muffled sounds, and it was easy to believe they were all alone in the whole world.

  His steps finally slowed when they were out in the middle of the field, away from even the most-interested observer. Turning, he tugged on her hand, pulling her closer to him. She went willingly, eager to feel his strength—his warmth—around her.

  Tilting her head back, she stared up into his eyes, willing him to kiss her again. Willing it not to have been a dream, those words and his kiss. Willing it to be real.

  “Sadie…” he whispered, and brushed the back of his gloved fingers against her cheek.

  She tamped down the delicious shudder and smiled up at him. “Yes, Shawn?”

  He bracketed her face in his big hands, holding her cheeks tenderly under her hood. “I’m going to kiss you again. Is that okay?”

  Her gaze dropped to the lips she’d admired for so long. “If you don’t, I’ll probably explode,” she said, quoting his earlier amazing claim.

  “Probably,” he murmured, right before he claimed her lips again.

  It was every bit as good as their first kiss. Better, in fact, because this time, Sadie was less shocked and could lose herself in the feeling of his skin against hers, his beard tickling her cheeks, his hard chest against her palms.

  It was perfect. It was better than perfect. It was magical.

  When they finally pulled apart, after a million heartbeats it seemed, Sadie was weak-kneed. He was breathing heavily too, which was a good sign, she figured. Shawn didn’t loosen his grip on her cheeks, but just pulled her closer and dropped his forehead to hers. He wasn’t as tall as some men—the Weston brothers, for instance—but he seemed just perfect to her. They were perfect together.

  Whoa. If she kept thinking like that, she was going to assume a whole lot more about this kiss than he might be willing to give. She took a deep breath. “Shawn, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, but I don’t want you to think…you know…that you had to, or anything. I mean…” She stepped back, but grabbed his hand in hers. “You’re perfect and amazing and I’m…just me.”

  His harsh bark of laughter cut off whatever else she might’ve said. “Just you? Sadie, you’re incredible.”

  His grip on her hand ached, and he looked away, running his free hand across his wool-cap-covered head. She knew his habit of pulling at his overlong hair, and wondered if that’s what he was trying to do.

  He continued, “I’m the one who couldn’t even imagine kissing someone as wonderful as you, and I can’t believe you let me.”

  Smiling shyly, Sadie shrugged and tugged his hand to pull his gaze back to her. “I’d let you again, if you wanted.”

  “Oh, I want,” he growled, and yanked her towards him.

  When she fell willingly against his chest, his lips caught hers once more, and she blissfully surrendered to his touch.

  It was only later, when they decided to walk to the bus stop together, Sadie tucked comfortably up under his arm, that her heartbeat began to return to normal. Not completely no
rmal, of course, because he was absently running one hand up and down her arm, and her cheeks tingled from the way his short beard had tickled her. But she took a deep breath, and then another, and felt the air clear her head.

  She’d kissed Shawn McAllister.

  “Wow,” she said aloud.

  His shoulders jerked when he snorted in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Wow’.”

  “That was pretty special. I mean, I’d been hoping…”

  “You have?” He dropped a kiss to her forehead as they walked. “Probably not as much as I have.”

  “I still can’t believe it.”

  Shawn shrugged. “Well, I thought you wanted to be just friends.”

  “I’ve never…” she hesitated, then continued. “I’ve always been ‘just friends’ with anyone I’ve ever considered dating. They just weren’t interested in me.”

  He snorted again. “Were these guys blind, or just stupid?”

  She had to smile at his defense. “Well, this was high school.”

  “Really?” He pulled to a stop. “That was years ago, Sadie. How about your boyfriends since then?”

  It was her turn to shrug and not meet his eyes. “I guess I’ve just been too busy with the shop. I got pretty good at avoiding guys, I guess. Or at least, just having crushes. You were the first—” She had to bite down on her lip to keep the words from spilling out, but that didn’t seem to faze him.

  Shawn tucked a finger under her chin and lifted until she was looking straight at him. “I was the first to what?”

  “To get to know me,” she said in a small voice. “I really liked being around you. I thought being friends would be the best thing for you, and for Violet.”

  His smile was tender. “And this whole time you didn’t realize that I was desperate to be much more than friends, huh?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, or make you think that I was pushing you.”

  “Sweetheart, nothing you could think of could come close to the things I’ve been imagining about you, these last weeks.” He bent his head and whispered some things in her ear that made her eyes widen and her cheeks turn pink.

 

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