The_Cupcake_Cowboy

by Lissa

  “I…ah…”

  Sam poked him in the shoulder. “Invite her in, Jacks,” she urged from behind him.

  “Right. Sorry,” he said to Cass, chagrined that he had to be reminded. “Please come in.” He gestured for her to enter, then closed the door.”

  “I really am sorry to barge in like this. Today has been completely unlike me.”

  “You’re not barging anywhere. I’m glad you stopped by.” He stood back and watched as she glanced into the U-shaped kitchen. It wasn’t large but there was a fair amount of counter space. Sam and Jackson had removed the upper cabinets and replaced them with open shelving. It made the room look more spacious than it actually was. The appliances weren’t commercial grade they’d upgraded to a dual oven range when he’d moved in. It was the next best thing to having a double oven in the wall.

  Cass’ nod was nearly imperceptible, but Jackson saw it. He was glad of her approval even if he hadn’t thought he would want or need it in his personal space. Sam skipped ahead and Cass followed behind at a slower pace into the combination living/dining room.

  The layout was open and comfortable, sporting a farmhouse dining table which was used more for cooling cupcakes and his sister’s sticky buns than eating. There was enough surface space for them to spread out and not crowd each other.

  He tried to see things the way a stranger would. The colors were warm and rich. They seemed inviting enough to Jackson and Sam, but would Cass feel at home?

  “Hi.” Sam fairly bounced to a stop in front of Cass.

  “Hi.” Cass’ tone was wary and Jackson bit back a smile. Sam was anything but shy.

  “I’m Samantha. Jackson’s sister.”

  “Oh. It’s very nice to meet you.” Cass studied her for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “You look familiar. Didn’t I read about you in the paper recently?”

  “Yes.” Sam’s eyes brightened. “Yes, you did. I’m the —”

  “You’re The Sticky Cowgirl,” Cass finished, though they both started speaking at the same time.

  “I am.” Sam giggled as they talked over each other. “I’m embroiled in a thing with a company trying to buy my shop space and there was a big write up about it. Seems I’m the hitch in their giddy-up. Have you ever been in?”

  “No, but one of my students is a daily customer and brought me a sticky bun for my birthday several months ago. It was incredible. I’d never tasted another like it.”

  “Thank you. That’s so sweet. You know, I’ve heard some good stuff about you from Jacks. He —”

  “He says it’s time for little sisters to go to bed because four in the morning comes very early,” Jackson interjected.

  “You’re no fun,” Sam pouted at him. “You’re right, but you’re no fun.”

  “Bed.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the stairs.

  “Going. Goodnight Cass. It was nice to finally meet you. We’re going to get to know each other very well. We —”

  “Go,” Jackson nudged.

  “Goodnight, Same.” Sam waggled her fingers at him and took off upstairs. He shook his head.

  “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “You’re protective of her,” Cass remarked. There was humor in her voice, a bit of pride too.

  When Sam was up the stairs and out of earshot, he turned to face Cass. “I am. Especially right now with all she’s going through.”

  “It can’t be easy against a company like Turner Acquisitions. Seems they’re buying up everything lately.”

  “She’s having a tough time of it.” The small talk made Jackson nervous, uneasy. He couldn’t explain why. He just knew they needed to clear the air instead of beating around the bush. “Cass, I… I was glad to see you today. It’s been a long time. Longer than it should have been.” He wasn’t good at apologizing and wondered if he should finish off the bottle of wine before he continued. “You’re a better person than I am.”

  “I’m not a better person. I’m just a different kind of person. You came to me looking for advice and for help. I told you what I thought was best, not what you wanted to hear. I should have phrased things in a way that didn’t make you think I was rejecting you or your ideas. It’s for that and only that, that I’m sorry.”

  Jackson stepped close, crowding her. “Cass,” he said her name softly and her gaze met his. Being near her like this reminded him of the few stolen kisses they’re shared in her office before he stomped out. He’d memorized the scent, the taste, the feel of her against him. Lush with such a beautiful smile.

  She’d come to him, not once, but twice in the same day and he’d been a dick the first time. Jackson knew women like her didn’t exist for every man. This one was his. “I’m a jackass and I should’ve seen that you were only trying to help. You’re a good woman and you’re good for me. I’m not letting you go this time around.”

  “Jackson, we haven’t seen each other in a while. We —”

  He cut whatever she was about to say off by swooping in for a kiss from her stunned mouth. She tasted like cupcakes, like sugar and cream, vanilla and butter. She tasted rich and sweet and just the way he remembered.

  Questions lit her eyes when they parted. “What was that for?”

  He ventured for the truth. “I couldn’t help myself?”

  Cass smirked. “Are you asking or telling, Mr. Dawson?” Her tone was all teacher and Jackson laughed. Cass’ cheeks colored immediately and she dropped her gaze for a split second then focused on him again. “I didn’t know you were looking for my support.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I had Sam.”

  “But you needed more and you didn’t have it. I’m sorry. I guess I should have…” She shook her head.

  “You’re right, okay? I wanted your support, yes. Sam accused me of being rash and impatient and she’s right. I am. I always am. I’d work the ranch from morning to night so I could get ahead of what needed to be done. I wanted to be ahead of the game with everything I did. Look, c’mon. We can sit and talk rather than standing in the entry. I’ll be lucky if my mama doesn’t reach down and smack me silly if I make you stand here much longer.”

  Cass smiled. “Thanks. Can I ask how long she’s been gone? I remember seeing something in your school information about her having passed away.”

  “’Bout seven years. Cancer.”

  “Oh, Jackson. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been.”

  He wouldn’t deny it. “It was awful. C’mon,” he urged again. “Let’s go into the living room. Can I get you something to drink? Wine?” He held up the bottle he still had in his hand. He’d all but forgotten it. “Beer? We might have a soda. Definitely have several bottles of rum, tequila, vodka.”

  “No. Thank you, but I’m driving. I won’t take up too much more of your time. I’ve said most of what I had to say.”

  Jackson motioned for her to have a seat on the couch, which she did. On the edge of the cushion. He lounged back on the one next to her. “You’re not taking up my time. I was awfully rude today at the truck and I want to apologize. I wasn’t raised that way and I’m really sorry.” He felt both at home and nervous around her. She seemed a little skittish and he didn’t want to do anything that would run her off. He liked being with her, even if he didn’t like to admit it sometimes.

  “Why baking Jackson? I mean… That’s not what I came to talk to you about, but I am curious.”

  His brow scrunched low over his eyes. “You said I had a gift.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Why did you come to cooking school and not even stay to graduate?”

  Jackson groaned inwardly. She was asking about his shortcomings. “I’m a cowboy. I grew up roping and mucking and fixing and riding. I… Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “I am.”

  “Okay uh… My mom got sick my junior year in high school and passed away my sophomore year in college. She wanted me to finish and get my degree. She also wanted me to be happy.”

  “Did you finish?” />
  “I did. I have the degree. Agricultural studies. Learned a lot about how to make the ranch better in the coming years, learned how to streamline our cattle operations, but my heart wasn’t in it.”

  “Why not?”

  She seemed genuinely curious about him and he while he loved it, he found it made him uncomfortable. No one had ever poked and prodded at him the way she did now or the way she had in class.

  “I got into the city and was overwhelmed. I had a different upbringing than some of the kids I hung out with. The kids in my classes grew up on ranches and farms and couldn’t wait to get back home. Me, I didn’t want to go back, not to live or work. I wanted something different. Strange, I know, but I wanted food. I ate everything I could get my hands on. American. Fusion. Asian. French. Italian. I ate all the damn time and when I’d come home for break, Sam would be baking with our grandmother. I devoured it all. Sam grew up baking. First, our mom, then our grandmother taught Sam all they knew. I didn’t know I wanted to do anything like it, didn’t know there was another option, or could be another option until I heard Sam talking one day about having her own bakery. Dad was so supportive about it. And there was something so interesting about maybe making people feel the way I always did when I came in from being out all day. It smelled so good and it all tasted even better.” He wondered if he sounded like an idiot. “I’m a big, bumbling cowboy, but somehow food made sense.”

  “You’re a big softie.” She said it with a smile, with a little light in her eyes. He could live a long happy life with her looking at him just like that every day.

  “Whatever. I can throw a punch with the best of ‘em though. I can get rowdy too so don’t go thinkin’ you know me just because I bake better cupcakes than anyone else in town.”

  “You’re also cockier than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  Jackson winked. “I take that as a compliment.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Were you close growing up? You and Sam?”

  “We were. There’s a two year age difference. When our grandmother died, I asked her to teach me how to make the sticky buns.” At Cass’ surprised look, Jackson laughed. “I know. Believe me, I was worse than what you saw in your classroom. Sam was the one who suggested it. Cooking school, I mean. That maybe I would be a better chef than baker. Dad didn’t agree. He said my place was to apply the education I already had to run the ranch. I didn’t want it. I wanted something different. I mean, I’m proud of my family. Our ranch is known all over the world for our beef and Longhorn cattle, but it’s not for me. I still help out when I’m needed and Sam and I buy all our dairy products from a parcel of land my dad gave my mom for a dairy farm. After she died and I went back to college, Sam worked to get it turned into a co-op. She thought it was important for the ranchers and the small rural communities around us to have the access. Not everyone had dairy cows. Mama was one of the most humane and kind women I’ve ever known and I’m glad she passed the dairy down to Sam.”

  “Local dairy is incredible. I imagine she’d be proud of you both.”

  “Yeah. It was important to Sam to use dairy from the cows raised on our land, and when I went into business, I followed suit.”

  “I’d have never pictured you for a follower.”

  “Eh. Me either, but Sam was a good example. My mom told me, and Sam, to do whatever we wanted. To just be happy. The city did that, first. Then, food. Sam was my inspiration to go for it.”

  “And you chose baking?”

  “It’s odd, yeah? Rough and tough cowboy baking light and fluffy cupcakes.” He winked. “I loved sweets best of all. I agreed with Sam about cooking school. I never really thought I could own a restaurant or bakery. I never really imagined I’d do more with what I learned than help my sister make a go of her business idea and maybe learn to cook so neither of us starved. She can make sticky buns but burns toast. Dad helped Sam buy this place and I bought him out with the money our grandmother left me. The rest of it, I used for school. When I decided I wanted to bake for real and quit cooking school, Sam blessed me out up one wall and down another. Once she calmed down, she put her share of what Mama left us in with mine We outfitted the truck and got me started. It’s not been easy, but we were luckier than most who start businesses. I’ve struggled quite a bit since and have poured most everything I’ve made back into it. My boots have holes even…” To make his point, he lifted his foot from the floor. In the sole, right under his big toe, there was a small hole being worn in. Cass laughed and swatted his foot away.

  “I believe you. You haven’t talked about your dad much, but I get the feeling something happened there that drove you to be so rash. But that’s not what I came to talk to you about. It was just…easier.”

  He might have been hearing things, but her soft tone encouraged him to edge closer. “Easier than what?”

  “I’ve always lived by rules, Jackson. I’m in a very creative profession but I have rules, boundaries. I guess I’ve always liked the structure, but in the classroom, they were there to protect me as well as my students.”

  “So I wasn’t different? I was just another student?” Jackson slanted her a disbelieving look. “Cause we both know that’s not true.”

  “You’re right. It wasn’t true, but that’s why the rules applied so heavily to you. I couldn’t let what I was feeling show. You were several years older than half of my other students and even though you’re younger than me, you’re closer to my age than any of them. That made it even more imperative that I try to remain objective and professional. You were also more charismatic, openly opinionated. I was drawn to that part of you. I wasn’t prepared for the attraction to go beyond the first day of class. I wasn’t prepared to feel what I felt each day after.”

  Jackson moved and crowded her into the arm of the couch. He leaned against her, his nose just inches away from hers, his breath mixing with hers, her scent invading his senses. God, she was special, so fucking real, and she was there, on his couch. “And what were you feeling, Cass?”

  “I…” She licked her lips and when Jackson captured the tip of her tongue in his teeth and tugged, she whimpered and gripped his shirt. He let go just as suddenly and he watched, interested, as she tried to pull herself together. Emotions flit through her eyes, giving her away.

  “What did you feel for me?” He pressed for an answer. “Lust? Love? Hunger?” As he spoke, his voice dropped until it was little more than a rumbling sound in his throat. Her eyes were wide and he stared into the crystal blue orbs. Something about the color of them captivated him and had since the moment he met her. His blue velvet cupcakes were as close as he could come to the color of her eyes and he’d created it in honor of her even though she didn’t know it. “Well, Teach?”

  She seemed to melt right in front of him and then her hands were on his shoulders and she pushed. He fell back into the couch cushions and she followed him down. “All of it,” she whispered into his mouth. “All of it.” She nipped at his lips. “And…more. So much more.”

  Chapter Three

  Cass had taken a little control with Jackson. And she was on his couch, in his arms, on top of his body, looking down at him. She’d come to talk to him, to apologize again, and hopefully erase that hardness in his eyes.

  With his hand on the back of her head, he pressed her toward his face. She put up no resistance and when he lifted and their lips met, she welcomed it. Mouths opened, tongues clashed, and her body lit up. Her blood heated, and raced through her system as she cataloged everything she could about him.

  Hard beneath her, from head to toe. Not counting his boots. Broad chest, strong arms. She could see him with a hat on his head, a t-shirt soaked through with sweat, a kerchief hanging out of his back pocket working on a ranch as easily as she’d seen him earlier in the day taking cupcake orders and as she’d seen him months before piping designs and creating icing roses, one after the other, each one more perfect than the last.

  He tasted like cake,
too. Rich and decadent on her tongue. His fingers gripped her tight around the waist and tangled in her hair. His hips thrust upward into the vee between her legs and with each move, she wanted to widen her thighs, straddle him, feel the length and breadth of his cock, naked.

  He tilted his head and their kiss deepened. His tongue slid in farther and when he pulled back, she mimicked the action with her tongue sliding alongside his. She wondered if he could feel the heat from her pussy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on. Okay that wasn’t true. Every time she saw him and every time he’d cornered her in her office after everyone had left. Whether he kissed her or confronted her, wondering why she kept her cool when she so obviously wanted him… Everything about him aroused her and she was unable to hide it now, in private with him, unable to keep it buried inside. The butterflies in her belly flit and fluttered and she couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up.

  And he knew how much the term Teach got to her. He used it when he was trying to push her, trying to goad her into a response. It was effective and she couldn’t fault him for using everything he had against her to get what he wanted because when all was said and done, he wanted her and she wanted him.

  “Anything more?” Jackson whispered as he trailed kisses along her chin and jawline.

  “Was that not enough?” Another moan escaped her when he tugged on her earlobe.

  “Never. It’s not ever going to be enough.”

  “What else is there?” She knew what she wanted him to say and when he shifted under her, eased one of his hard thighs between her legs and bent the knee, pressed against her sex and shoving the seam of her pants into her panties and into the smooth folds of heated flesh. “Oh,” she gasped.

  “There’s that.”

  “Oh yes, yes there is,” she replied, shameless in her need. “I…I didn’t come here for this, Jackson.” Even as she said it, she rocked on the hard ridge of his thigh muscle.