She set her plate on the counter. And after that, she had no idea what to do next. Pretend he wasn’t standing right behind her? Whirl and demand that he back off?
But that was the problem. She wasn’t sure she really wanted him to back off.
The past few days, when it came to him, she wasn’t sure of anything.
“Um. Ethan?” She spoke to the window over the sink that looked out on the side yard.
He touched her. He put his hands on her shoulders, clasping. And it felt so good. “You’re trembling…”
Why deny it? “Only a little.”
“Come on, Lizzie, turn around.” He tugged on her shoulders, urging her to do as he asked.
And she did. She turned to face him. And she was way too aware of the warmth of him, the just-showered scent of him. His eyes found hers. Caught.
Held.
He clasped her shoulders again. “Every thing’s changing.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been lying to you, Lizzie, saying I accept that you’re leaving. I don’t accept it. I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” Tears filled her eyes. Of all things. One got loose and dribbled down her cheek.
He said her name, so softly. With such beautiful tenderness. “Lizzie.” And then, “Don’t cry.” He touched her face with his thumb. He wiped that tear away.
“I’m not,” she lied.
And that was when he pulled her closer.
That was when his warm, firm mouth closed over hers for the very first time.
Chapter Six
Kissing Lizzie.
Ethan couldn’t believe it. But it was happening.
And it felt so good.
He gathered her into him and he deepened the kiss. Enough to taste coffee and strawberry jam, to breathe in the warm, clean heat of her breath. She was…just Lizzie. Special and important and different from any woman he’d ever known. Firm and strong and tall in his arms. Substantial. And yet, soft, too.
Womanly in all the ways he had known she would be.
He framed her obstinate face with his hands, his fingers at her temples, brushed by her wildly curling, ill-behaved hair. Had he known her hair would be so soft? “Lizzie…”
And he kissed her some more.
She made a low, sweet noise in her throat, and she kissed him right back. Eagerly, with the same sweet, passionate enthusiasm she gave to everything—from baking a six-tier wedding cake for his brother’s wedding to arguing with him over whether he might have been flirting with her lately.
Their noses bumped. They both laughed.
And then the laughter faded. She pulled back a little. They stared at each other.
He held her by the waist then. And she had her capable hands on his shoulders.
“Oh, Ethan,” she whispered. “What is happening here?”
He thought about all the reasons he shouldn’t be doing this. All the ways getting intimate with her would ruin everything.
And then he thought that if she really was leaving, well, it was ruined anyway. That he would have to learn to get along without her. That August, after she left him, when she went back to Midland, was going to be hell.
Might as well have something really good to remember when she was gone. But would she want that? Something temporary? Something they would both walk away from when July came to an end?
Somehow, that didn’t seem like Lizzie, to have a temporary fling. Especially not with him.
Because, seriously, he wasn’t her kind of guy. Lizzie went more for the solid-citizen type. She went for the guy who was looking for the right woman to settle down with, to raise a family with.
Ethan liked his life the way it was. No strings. No commitments, lifetime or otherwise.
He said, “I don’t know what’s happening.” And he realized he meant it. One moment, it all seemed so clear to him, that he should keep his hands off her, that getting intimate with Lizzie was the kind of uncharted territory he had no right to explore.
And then the next moment, he found himself thinking that he’d go nuts if he couldn’t touch her, if he couldn’t find out what it would feel like to kiss her.
“So…what should we do?” Her eyes were so green right then. So wide. And her mouth was soft, perfect for kissing.
And then he was thinking, well, why not? He’d already kissed her once.
And he really, really wanted to kiss her again.
“Ethan?” Her eyes searched his face. “I—”
“Shh. Don’t talk. Not right now.”
“Ethan…”
He took her mouth again. He simply could not resist. And she didn’t pull away. She made a soft, surprised little sound. And then she surrendered—to him. To the moment. To…this thing between them that had always been one thing and now was becoming something else altogether.
Something magic. Something scary. Something he had never in a thousand years expected to happen with her, with Lizzie, who was the finest damn assistant he’d ever had, his favorite all-time cook and housekeeper. And most important of all, his best friend.
She kissed him back, reluctantly at first, and then with a lost little sigh as she gave in to him, to the moment. She parted her lips for him so he could taste her more deeply.
He could have gone on like that into next week. Holding Lizzie. Kissing her…
But too soon, she put her hands against his chest. She turned her mouth away from him. “Ethan…”
He knew he’d pushed her about as far as she was going to go. “All right.” He loosened his hold, but couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.
She did that for him, taking his wrists and peeling them away from the firm curve of her waist. Cradling his hands between hers, she held his gaze. “The more I think about this, the more I think it’s not a direction you and I should be going.”
“So don’t think.”
She laughed then, a wry sound. “Of course that would be your advice on the subject.”
“I like to live in the moment.”
“No kidding. But I really do think we need to…forget what just happened, forget it and move on.”
He stepped back, giving her the space he knew she needed right then. And she let go of his hands. He echoed glumly, “Forget it and move on…”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “That’s what I said.”
He didn’t like the turn things were suddenly taking. He didn’t like it at all. “Oh, come on, Lizzie. I kissed you. You kissed me back. We can’t un-remember that.”
“We can pretend to. We can behave as though it never happened.”
He wished she was joking, but he knew that she wasn’t. “That’s what you want, really? To pretend it never happened?”
“That’s what I want, yes.”
He realized he was furious with her. So he spoke very softly, with cold, precise care. “Well, all right, then. Fine with me. You got it. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
About a half an hour later, they went up to the resort in their separate cars.
The morning was similar to the day before. They met with Grant. Ethan had questions and Grant answered them. There was more in-depth study of the accounts, more discussion of what areas needed more investment and where corners might be cut.
Lizzie did her job and wished she were anywhere else but there, near Ethan. She was just too…aware of him now. She kept thinking of how lovely it had felt, to be held in his arms. How tender and perfect his kisses had been. She kept doing exactly what she had told him she wouldn’t do: remembering in aching, perfect detail, every sigh, every touch, every word that had passed between them at breakfast.
He’d been right, of course. She couldn’t un-remember that she had kissed him. And it was going to be close to impossible to pretend that nothing between them had changed.
Plus, he was seriously pissed off at her. Oh, he was civil enough. He treated her with calm professionalism, just like any good boss would. But she knew that closed-off look in those dark eyes of his.
He was angry at her for wanting to put the events of the morning behind them.
At least Grant didn’t seem to notice that anything was different. Lizzie was grateful for that.
The morning seemed to last forever. But finally, at 11:30, she had her chance to escape. She left the men in the conference room and drove back down the mountain into town.
In town, she found a parking lot tucked into the corner where Thunder Canyon Road turned sharply and became Main Street. The lot serviced both a motel called the Wander-On Inn, and the Hitching Post, the bar where Ethan had attended Corey’s bachelor party. Lizzie parked in the lot and walked to the restaurant.
It was a cool, sunny day. Perfect for a stroll. The buildings were old, mostly of brick. They’d probably been there since the turn of the previous century, and then refitted to make the current shops and stores that lined the cute, old-timey street.
She found the restaurant a couple of blocks down from where she’d left the car. It had The Tottering Teapot painted in green-and-pink flowing script on the wide front window, which was hung with old-fashioned lace curtains on café rods.
Inside, the tables were all different sizes, covered in antique lace tablecloths, no two the same. Even the chairs were all different shapes and styles, as though the place had been furnished from any number of yard and estate sales.
Petite, pretty Allaire Traub sat at a table for five near the far wall with one other woman, a brightly dressed strawberry blonde, at her side. Allaire signaled Lizzie over.
“You made it.” She jumped to her feet and pulled out a chair. “Lizzie, this is Tori McFarlane.”
Lizzie greeted Tori and took the chair Allaire had offered. A few minutes later, Haley Cates joined them. Haley ran a youth program called ROOTS in a storefront Lizzie recalled passing on her way to the restaurant. The women explained that they usually met Mondays for lunch. But this week, Allaire couldn’t get away until Tuesday, so here they were.
“You’re welcome to join us,” said Haley, “right here at the Tottering Teapot, most Mondays at lunchtime.”
“Consider it an open invitation,” Allaire added with a glowing smile.
They ordered from the hand-lettered menus, and their sandwiches arrived on beautiful old plates in floral-and-blue Delft and gold-leaf patterns. The dishes and flatware didn’t match any more than the tablecloths or chairs did. Every piece was different. The place was cozy, friendly and unpretentious. Lizzie felt instantly welcome there.
She liked the three women, too. She learned how Haley had married a former town bad boy, Marlon Cates. She also found out that Allaire was an art teacher and Tori taught English. Tori and Connor planned to stay in Thunder Canyon through the next school year so that Connor’s son, CJ, could finish high school at TC High.
“But McFarlane House headquarters are back east,” Tori said. “We’ll probably make Philadelphia our home base as soon as CJ’s in college.”
Allaire and Haley swore they weren’t letting Tori go. But Tori only smiled at them and said she loved them dearly and would be back to visit often.
Rose Traub had told Allaire about Lizzie’s plans to open a bakery in Midland—and Allaire had turned right around and told all her friends.
“And we’ve been thinking…” Allaire announced with a knowing grin.
Haley finished for her “…that you ought to stay here and open your bakery in Thunder Canyon.”
Lizzie laughed. “You know, Erin said the same thing Saturday afternoon, when I delivered her wedding cake to the resort.”
“Well, you ought to listen to Erin,” said Haley. “We really need someone like you, someone approachable and easy to get to know. Someone we like.”
“Someone dependable,” added Allaire.
Tori said, “The guy who owns La Boulangerie—the bakery a block down, at Nugget and Main?—he’s a great baker. Croissants you would kill for, no kidding. But he’s not a friendly guy. And then look what happened last week? He just up and vanished without a word to anyone. Luckily, you were here to save the day for Erin. But the bakery’s been shut up tight ever since. That leaves the doughnut shop in New Town, the one Starbucks on North Main and that other chain bakery in the mall. Old Town needs a real artisan bakery.”
“He’s French, the runaway baker down the street,” said Haley with a frown—and then caught herself. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being French.”
Lizzie laughed. “I’m glad you qualified that. My dear maman was French. And my dad was of French extraction.”
“Well, the baker down the street was not a happy Frenchman,” said Tori. “I think he had a girlfriend for a while, though, didn’t he? He seemed a little happier then.”
“That’s right,” said Hayley. “That pretty, dark-haired woman. French, too, as I remember. I wonder if she went with him….”
“No clue,” said Allaire. “But you, Lizzie, you’re fun and talented. And clearly super-dependable, too. Everyone knows that Ethan is going to be lost without you. You’ve totally spoiled him, and that’s a fact.”
Ethan. Just the mention of his name made her feel sad and tense and worried. And a little bit breathless, too. The swirl of emotions was pretty overwhelming.
Oh, what was she thinking to let him kiss her—and then to go and kiss him right back?
She said, rather feebly, “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Allaire made a low, disbelieving sound. “Corey once said that Ethan couldn’t keep an assistant until you came along. They all ended up falling in love with him, pining over him all day instead of doing their work.”
“I’d say that’s something of an exaggeration.” Hah. And now she was just like all the others. Feeling breathless and tortured at the very mention of his name.
“Well, I know he’ll miss you,” Allaire said. She went on, “And I mean it. If you decided to stay here, you would never regret it. Your bakery would be a success from the first day you opened the doors for business. You can count on us to make sure of that.”
Tori and Hayley both nodded enthusiastic agreement.
Of course, Ethan’s cousin and her friends were just being welcoming. But still, Lizzie found the wild idea kind of appealing. She did like Thunder Canyon. The country was spectacular and everyone was so friendly and easy to get along with.
But no, her plans were already made. “Sorry. I’m flattered, but I’m a Midland, Texas, girl through and through.”
“Think it over,” said Allaire. “That’s all we’re asking.”
“Yeah.” Tori sipped her tea. “There’s no law that says you can’t change your mind.”
After she said goodbye to the others outside the restaurant, Lizzie had half an hour before Ethan would expect her at the resort. She was not in a hurry to spend the rest of the day at his side valiantly pretending nothing had changed between them.
So she dawdled a little. She wandered farther down the block to get a look at the Frenchman’s deserted bakery.
What could it hurt, after all, to look?
La Boulangerie had a storefront much like the one that housed the Tottering Teapot: an old brick building with wide showcase windows in front and a glass-topped door of heavy dark wood. Lizzie pressed her face against the window glass to see inside.
It was nice in there, with wide-planked floors, a few tables so people could eat their treats right there, lots of shelving, the usual long glass-cased counters. She admired the gorgeous old espresso machine and a quality bread slicer. She’d really love to get a look in the back, see what the prep space was like….
Just out of curiosity, she took the alley between the bakery and the building next door. Through a window on the side wall, she got a limited view of steel tables, of rolling racks, of a couple of handsome-looking proofers—sealed steel boxes that kept yeast dough at optimum warmth and humidity. She saw two high-capacity ovens and the shiny steel doors of refrigeration units. The floor mixer was a Hobart and there was a nice, big counter mixer as well, also a Hobart, which
was arguably best of the best when it came to professional mixers.
She went on to the back, where she found parking. Plenty of it. There was a rear entrance with a steel door. No windows back there, not on the ground floor. But double-hung windows gleamed high up the brick wall. An iron fire escape zigzagged down from the roof, with a landing under the windows.
Was there an apartment up there? She smiled to herself. A baker got up early. Life would be easier if she lived above her shop.
And what would that be like, to live above her very own bakery on Main Street in Thunder Canyon, Montana?
Was it possible that the runaway French baker might be planning to sell? If he hoped to come back to town and pick up where he’d left off, she wished him a whole lot of luck. People weren’t happy with the way he’d behaved.
And if he did end up selling, well, she could probably get the business and all the equipment at a really good price. Quality equipment was so expensive. The Hobart Legacy floor mixer alone would cost her upward of fifteen-thousand dollars, new….
And then she shook her head.
It was just a pleasant fantasy, really, nothing she would ever actually do. In Midland, she had her eye on a couple of locations. She had to admit, though, that neither of those was quite as attractive as this one.
But still, the whole idea was to re-create the family bakery she had lost. And that bakery belonged in Midland, Texas.
Plus, if she did decide to relocate here, she’d be living in the same small town as Ethan. That would be difficult. She’d been kind of counting on cutting it clean with him, on giving them both some serious distance while they each grew accustomed to life on their own.
Life on their own.
Sheesh. As if they were an old married couple or something—an old married couple calling it quits.
She glanced at her watch.
Yikes. Time had gotten away from her. She was going to be late getting back to the resort. So much for daydreaming—and trying to put off being around Ethan again, to delay the upcoming afternoon of playing it as if everything was business as usual.
Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan Page 8
