by Teri Wilson
She’d deal with that later, though. First she needed to apologize for her lack of basic social skills when it came to the opposite sex. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Ryan wanting to kiss her again. The fact that she hadn’t heard from him was a pretty good indication that he’d gotten over that particular urge.
She gave the coffee a final stir and fastened a to-go lid on top of the paper cup, but the moment she looked up, she found herself face-to-face with her parents.
“Mom.” She glanced back and forth between them. Her mother’s smooth, dark skin always contrasted so beautifully with her father’s fair complexion. “Dad. What are you doing here?”
Her mother lifted a brow. “Hello to you too, dear.”
Amanda shook her head. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you. Aren’t you supposed to be on a cruise? I thought you were leaving this morning.”
Her mom and dad regularly took the grandkids on a Disney cruise this time of year. Of course Alexis and Paul went too. Josh and Amanda routinely got invited, as well, but Amanda couldn’t imagine leaving the Grille. Nor could she picture her bachelor brother on a cruise full of children and cartoon characters.
“Little Teddy came down with the chicken pox last night so we had to postpone,” her father said.
Amanda gasped. “Oh no! Is he okay?”
“He’s cranky as can be. Thank goodness the other five children have already had the chicken pox, or Alexis and Paul would have really had their hands full,” her mom said, glancing around the restaurant and frowning slightly when her gaze landed on the specials board. “Since when do we serve a fried green tomato caprese salad?”
Busted.
Inspired by Ryan’s positive reaction to the dish, she’d impulsively added it to the menu without consulting her mother. She’d even somehow managed to convince herself she’d done nothing wrong, since she ran the place. But it was still a family-owned establishment, not a sole proprietorship. And Amanda’s mom wasn’t ready to change things. Amanda’s grandmother had written the menu way back when Main Street first got car traffic. Why tinker around with tradition?
Maybe because I’m dying of culinary boredom.
“The customers seem to like it.” She lifted her chin. This was it—the moment she’d been preparing for. She needed to convince her parents to let her change things up a bit. She could live without getting into catering if she could at least switch up a dish or two. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you both...”
Her voice drifted off as she caught sight of a flash of gray through the window behind her dad’s head.
The stray dog!
She’d had her eyes peeled for days and hadn’t spotted the animal at all. Now there it was, trotting down the sidewalk as if it were heading to Andy’s Antiques to browse through stacks of old china and homespun quilts.
“Just a sec. I’ll be right back.” She dashed out of the Grille and sprinted after the dog.
The scruffy little pup glanced over its shoulder and picked up its pace, clearly up for a game of chase.
“Stop,” Amanda yelled. “I’m trying to help you.”
She should have grabbed a handful of meat loaf or something so she could lure the dog closer, but she’d been in such a hurry to bolt after it that instead she’d grabbed the cup of to-go coffee she’d prepared for Ryan. It sloshed in her hand as she rounded the corner toward the Granary in pursuit of the stray.
And then suddenly she was no longer running. The paper cup in her grip seemed to explode, drenching her in Appalachian Breakfast Blend from head-to-toe. Dazed, she wiped the warm liquid from her eyes.
When she opened them, the scruffy gray dog was nowhere to be seen.
But Ryan Carter was gripping her shoulders and looking down at her with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He was holding her exactly the same way he had when he’d plowed into her on the sidewalk last week. In fact, they were standing in almost exactly the same spot where they’d had their previous run-in.
The only thing different was the smile on his lips—and the fact that she’d kissed those lips just days ago.
His smile broadened, and the coffee cup slipped from her fingertips. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
* * *
“Oh my God. I just ran straight into you, didn’t I?” Amanda blinked up at Ryan, clearly stunned to find herself in a second coffee collision with him in just a matter of days.
Ryan knew how she felt. He was tempted to believe fate had thrown them together again, but he reminded himself he didn’t believe in the notion.
Still, what were the odds?
“Look at your chest.” A flush crept across Amanda’s cheeks, turning her complexion from tawny to scarlet. “I mean your shirt. Look at your shirt. It’s a mess.”
She dabbed ineffectually at the growing stain on his blue oxford with the cuff of her cardigan sweater while Ryan let his gaze travel over her now-familiar features. God, it was good to see her again. In the days since he’d kissed her, he’d had to stop himself from contacting her at least ten times a day. But he knew staying away was for the best. She’d obviously considered the kiss a mistake, and he wasn’t sure he could look her in the eye and pretend he agreed.
Yes, the timing had been terrible. But the kiss itself?
Perfection.
“I think I’m making it worse.” She quit trying to sop up the mess and her palms came to rest on his pectoral muscles. She bit her lip and stared at his drenched torso for a few long seconds until she seemed to realize she was touching him, and then she took a backward leap and nearly tripped over the curb.
Ryan righted her before she fell. “Easy there.”
“Thanks.” She straightened, crossed her arms and then recrossed them.
Why did he get the feeling she was trying to stop herself from touching him again?
He bit back a smile. Amanda Sylvester wasn’t acting at all like a woman who regretted kissing him. Maybe he’d misconstrued the reason for her hasty departure and her avoidance of him. Then again, what difference did it make? The surprise lip-lock had been a one-time thing. It had to be. As if his plate hadn’t already been full enough with Dillon and the new dog, now he had the visit from Finch and Annabelle hanging over his head. He sure as hell didn’t need to be kissing a woman he barely knew.
Even if meeting that woman had been the nicest thing that had happened to him a long, long while.
“Your eggs were delicious,” he blurted.
Smooth. Real smooth.
“Oh.” He watched as her lips curved into a surprised smile, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d tasted. So warm. So decadently sweet. “I’m glad you liked them.”
“I did, and Dillon devoured them.” Ryan shrugged. “I can’t get him to eat any of my cooking, other than hot dogs and frozen pizza.”
She winced. “No offense, but frozen pizza doesn’t qualify as cooking.”
He held up his hands. “None taken. That’s why I usually stop by to get dinner for us at the Grille.”
“Right.” Her smile faded. “I noticed you haven’t stopped by in a few days, and I know it’s my fault. Believe it or not, the coffee I just dumped all over you was supposed to be an apology of sorts.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. Not at all. But as peace offerings go, throwing it at me like that was certainly a memorable tactic.” He grinned, picked the paper cup off the ground and tossed it into the nearby trash can.
“I was chasing a dog—a stray I’ve seen here a few times. Did you see it? Small, gray, scruffy?”
“I didn’t.” He looked around, but there wasn’t an animal in sight. Just people drifting in and out of the quaint local businesses that made up Spring Forest’s downtown area. “But speaking of dogs...”
She pulled a face. “Oh no. Is Tucker still eating your shoes?”
“No, I’ve managed to nip that in the bud. But the crate training isn’t going so well.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Let me guess—you caved and started letting him sleep in Dillon’s bed?”
“Guilty as charged. How did you know?”
“Because you’re a good dad, that’s why.” She shrugged, oblivious to the fact that her words made his throat close up.
He actually felt weepy almost, all over a silly compliment. Damn it, what was wrong with him?
You’re a good dad.
No one had ever called him that before. Not Maggie. Certainly not Annabelle and Finch.
“You’re a good dad, but a pushover of a dog owner. I should have checked in on you sooner. It’s just...” She took a deep breath.
“I get it. It’s okay.” He held a hand to his heart. “If you keep helping me with Tucker, I promise I won’t kiss you again.”
What was he saying?
Her smile froze in place. “Great.”
“Great.” He nodded.
This isn’t what you want.
No, it wasn’t. He also wasn’t completely convinced it was what Amanda wanted. But it was for the best.
“Can I ask you another favor?” he said before he could stop himself. For crying out loud, he’d just about lost control of the things coming out of his mouth. “My former in-laws are coming to visit, and they don’t seem to share your high opinion of my parenting skills. Maybe you could stop by while they’re in town?”
She stared at him for a beat, because of course she did. She was practically a stranger, and he’d just asked her to meet his late wife’s parents.
“Never mind.” He raked a hand through his hair and did his best to pretend he hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth in such a major way. “It was a crazy idea.”
“You really want me there?” she said quietly.
Yes. Very much. If just one person in the room believed in him, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible.
“I do,” he said, then hastily added, “as friends, of course.”
A flicker of relief passed through her gaze, and for some strange reason, Ryan felt a stab of disappointment deep in his gut.
Friends.
She nodded. “Sure, if you think it would help.”
“Great. Thank you. I know I seem to be asking you for a lot of favors lately.” He swallowed. “But I don’t know many people here yet and...”
And he liked her. He liked her a lot. He just wasn’t sure how to articulate his feelings or if he even should.
Amanda nodded and glanced across the street where Birdie and Bunny Whitaker were walking toward The Gilded Rose Tea Room. The wide-brimmed hat on Bunny’s head was so large it bordered on comical. They waved and Amanda waggled her fingers in return.
Then she swiveled her gaze back to Ryan. “I’m going to need a favor in return.”
“Anything.” After all, he was in no position to argue.
“I need a judge for the barbecue cook-off.”
“That’s it? You want me to gorge myself on barbecue for a day?” He grinned. “I think I can manage it.”
“Good. It might be a nice way for you to get to know the townspeople a little more. Plus, I’m kind of desperate.” She stuck her hand out for a shake. “So it’s a deal?”
“It’s a deal.” He took her palm in his, but once they’d shaken hands, he kept holding on, so that their fingertips were loosely interwoven.
That’s what friends were for, right?
Ryan ground his teeth together. He wasn’t sure why that word irritated him so much all of a sudden, especially since he was the one who’d first uttered it.
He just knew that it did.
A lot...probably more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.
Chapter Eight
The days leading up to the barbecue fundraiser passed in a blur. Amanda could have mentally tallied the time any number of ways, but for some ridiculous reason she calculated it in the number of breakfasts she’d delivered to Ryan and Dillon.
She pretended it wasn’t weird to keep cooking for them since they’d firmly established the boundaries of their relationship. They were friends, nothing more. Of course they’d somehow ended the conversation about being “just friends” by accidentally holding hands on the sidewalk for all the town to see. And sure, a casual friend might not drop by at seven in the morning with a batch of homemade cinnamon sticky buns, but Amanda couldn’t quite help it. Dillon’s sweet little face lit up every time she showed up before he left for school. He was talking almost every day now, especially to Tucker. Amanda was teaching him how to give the dog simple commands, like sit, down and roll over. The boy and the dog were adorable together, like two peas in a pod.
And Ryan...
Well, Ryan was beyond adorable. But in the name of self-preservation, she pretended not to notice. Just like she pretended she wasn’t thinking about their kiss every time she stood in his kitchen. Or that she didn’t catch him looking at her sometimes when he thought she didn’t notice.
In short, she was doing a lot of pretending. A scary amount, actually. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it because there were a million details to take care of if the barbecue cook-off was going to raise enough money to fix the tornado damage at Furever Paws.
So a mere seven breakfasts after Amanda collided with Ryan on the sidewalk for the second time, she found herself standing in the Granary parking lot alongside Birdie and Bunny on the night before the fundraiser, unloading a pile of boxes containing supplies for the following day from the back of her red pickup truck.
“This is unbelievable, dear.” Birdie planted her hands on her hips and took in the white tents lined up in neat rows along the empty lot. “I’ve never seen this space look so good.”
The old grain factory had been converted years ago into an open shopping area for local vendors, and on weekend mornings between April and October, they hosted a farmer’s market. Amanda had managed to convince the owners of the lot to let her use it for the barbecue fundraiser on Saturday afternoon, starting exactly one hour after the farmer’s market closed for the day.
Sure, she could have used the land out at Furever Paws for the event. Between the shelter property and Whitaker acres, there was plenty of space. But she figured the fundraiser would draw more people if it was located smack in the center of town, and more people meant more money for the rescue mission.
Bunny spun in a circle, taking it all in. “The tents are a particularly nice touch. Where did they come from? I always have to wear my sun hat when I come out here for the farmer’s market.”
“A hardware store in Raleigh is loaning them to us. They sent a few people down here last night to set them up. I thought people might want to stay longer if we have shade, plus now we can have a booth for some of the adoptable pets and we won’t have to worry about them getting too hot.” While they were raising money, they might as well find homes for some of the animals at the same time. It was a win-win.
“I don’t understand how you’ve had time to get all of this together so quickly.” Birdie arched a brow. “Plus, haven’t you been spending a lot of time over at Ryan Carter’s house lately?”
Amanda bent to rummage through one of the boxes and re-count the red gingham tablecloths she’d packed so she wouldn’t have to meet the older woman’s gaze. “I’ve been helping Ryan with Tucker. You know how impossible that dog can be. We don’t want him to get returned to the shelter again, do we?”
“Of course not. It’s very sweet of you to go the extra mile like that.” Birdie’s voice carried an unmistakable hint of innuendo, which Amanda ignored. With all of the pretending she’d been doing lately, she was becoming frighteningly good at keeping a poker face.
Birdie and Bunny exchanged a glance, clearly waiting for her to admit there was more to her early morning
visits to the Carter house than just dog training. When she refused to elaborate, they sighed and moved on.
“But how have you managed to do all of this and run the Grille at the same time?” Bunny slid one of the boxes into the Granary’s storage shed, where they were keeping the cook-off supplies until they could set up after the market closed tomorrow afternoon.
Amanda slid another box in behind it. “Believe it or not, I have a temporary comanager.”
Birdie crossed her arms. “It’s about time. Who is it?”
“My brother-in-law, Paul.” Amanda reached into the bed of her truck for another box.
“How is that possible? Doesn’t Paul work full-time in Raleigh? And don’t he and your sister have six kids at home? Paul might be the only person in North Carolina who has more on his plate than you do.”
“Not right now, thank goodness. My nephew Teddy came down with the chicken pox the night before Paul and Alexis were supposed to take the kids on a cruise with my parents. They’ve had to postpone the entire trip, but Paul had already arranged to take vacation days from work. He’s really not happy with his office job, so when I asked if he could lend a hand at the Grille until I could get this taken care of, he agreed.”
Amanda still hadn’t gotten up the courage to tell her parents about her dream of branching out into catering, but when she’d returned to the Grille after dashing after the scruffy stray dog the other day, they’d still been there waiting for her. As soon as they’d told her Paul had some time off she’d called him and begged him to help for a few days. Miraculously, he’d actually liked the idea.
