Born to be My Baby: A Canyon Creek Novel (Canyon Creek, CO Book 1)

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Born to be My Baby: A Canyon Creek Novel (Canyon Creek, CO Book 1) Page 8

by Lori Ryan


  Maggie scooped the thing up in her arms and snuggled him close. “This is Lucky. He’s been here for years.”

  Ben studied the animal. He appeared to be missing an eye, and half an ear. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He was protecting an old barn dog from a coyote.” Maggie said, nuzzling the thing. “I didn’t think a cat would go up against a coyote,” she explained, “but he did. Your dad and I got there just in time. Lucky was almost dead, but the dog had gotten away safely.”

  “Huh,” Ben said, mustering a little more respect for the cat.

  “Your dad scared the coyote off with a gunshot and we got him to Kayleigh Montgomery, the local vet.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand lovingly along the mottled fur of the cat’s back. His gray coat was littered with spots making him appear like a bobcat. “Lucky paid a high price for his bravery. He lost his eye and part of his left ear,” she said. The cat leaned into her touch.

  “His name is Lucky?” Ben laughed.

  “Yes,” Maggie answered through clamped teeth. “Kayleigh nicknamed him that during his stay at her clinic and the name stuck.”

  “Maggie, he’s got one eye and a chewed-up ear.”

  Maggie and the cat glared at him. “What part of, fought off a coyote do you not get?”

  “He looks more like Rooster Cogburn.”

  “Who?”

  “Rooster Cogburn. John Wayne?”

  She shook her head, like she had no earthly idea what Ben was talking about.

  “The one-eyed marshal from True Grit, he always looked perpetually pissed.”

  “Like you.” Maggie rolled her lips into her teeth, like she was willing herself to stay silent.

  Was that really how people saw him? Perpetually pissed?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “that was rude.”

  The cat hissed at Ben.

  “Do you really think you should have such a vicious animal around the lodge? Don’t we have kids stay here?”

  Maggie looked at him like he’d gone mad, and leaned to let Lucky jump from her arms. He stalked into the woods like he wasn’t used to having people criticize him and wouldn’t stick around for it. Maggie watched the cat disappear then turned to face him. “Everyone at the lodge loves Lucky. He’s a sweetheart.”

  Ben let his raised brow answer her, but she didn’t seem to care what he thought. She continued down the path as though she hadn’t just let a mangled hellcat loose to torment and possibly traumatize their guests.

  “So, here’s cabin number one.” Maggie held out her hand to a free-standing cabin.

  “This one looks nearly complete.” Ben hadn’t known they were this far along on any of them. He needed to forget the cat and do a full-on assessment of the build out. This was worse than he thought. Construction was already well under way, which meant it would be difficult to stop and do line item cuts.

  “It’s almost done on the outside,” Maggie said. “Come on, I’ll show you the inside.”

  Ben stepped up on the small porch and turned to look behind him. The majestic Canyon Creek Mountain range stood strong in the distance. Ben could picture sitting out on this porch, staring off at the wilderness.

  “Ben,” Maggie called from within the open door. He heard a hint of amusement in her voice, as though she knew he was picturing exactly what she’d wanted him to see. Their vision.

  It wouldn’t matter. He could see her dream and it wouldn’t change a damned thing. Cuts had to be made. Maggie and his mother could live with their heads in the clouds—or the mountains. He needed to keep his eyes on the numbers so his mother didn’t lose the whole damned place.

  Ben walked over the threshold of the small cabin, finding a nearly complete interior, as well.

  “This is one of two efficiency cabins, with no walls to separate the bedroom.”

  Ben studied the small space as he walked to the fireplace in the corner and ran his hand over the stone front.

  Maggie laughed. “Your parents argued about that for weeks.”

  “What?”

  “Fireplaces versus wood stoves or a gas stove. The small gas stove made more sense economically I’ll admit. But…”

  “But, my mom got her way?” He didn’t need a response.

  “She said a fireplace was more romantic.”

  Ben shook his head.

  “Your Aunt Sally agreed with Valerie, for reasons you don’t even want to know about.”

  “Oh brother, I know I’m going to regret this but now you have to tell me.”

  “No,” Maggie shook her head, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks. “Trust me.”

  “Come on.” Ben brushed a hand over Maggie’s arm.

  She glanced down at the spot he’d touched. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Ben backed up and leaned against the opposite wall.

  “She said,” Maggie cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room, “that her naked body looked better from the glow of a large fireplace than an itty-bitty stove.”

  Ben froze, mouth gaping.

  Maggie placed a hand on her chest and raised the other in the air. “Hand to heaven—her words, not mine.”

  Ben stood silent, trying to figure out a way purge his brain of that image.

  “I know,” Maggie said, as if she could read his mind. “You want to undo the last thirty seconds of your life, don’t you?” She laughed wickedly.

  “That’s just…wrong.”

  “I warned you,” she said. “Next time, maybe you’ll listen to me.”

  Ben studied her and wondered how she wasn’t gagging, too.

  “Your dad reacted the same way and not another word was said about the stone fireplaces. I’m pretty sure your Aunt Sally and your mom planned the whole thing, but I’ll never ask.”

  Ben scrubbed a palm down his face. Nope, didn’t work. The image was still etched in his brain. “Those two are a mess.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Their strategy was actually brilliant.”

  Their strategy may have worked on his father, but it wouldn’t on Ben. He made a mental note to be sure the rest of the cabins were outfitted with the stoves instead of fireplaces. It might be too late for this cabin, but they could charge a premium for it.

  Maggie didn’t seem to realize he was rearranging her plan in his head. She pointed a finger behind him. “The kitchenette is where you’re standing.”

  Ben looked behind him and noticed plumbing pipes protruding from the wall.

  “There’ll be a small sink and a cook top stove along with a mini-fridge. And on that wall,” Maggie turned and pointed, “we’ll have a small sofa, and over there,” she motioned toward the wall that faced opposite the fireplace, “that’s where the bed will go.”

  Bed. Images of Maggie, spread-eagle across a bed in the fire-light had Ben silently groaning. Maybe Aunt Sally had been right.

  “And that’s the back porch.” Maggie’s voice broke through his lurid thoughts.

  Ben shook his head and focused.

  Maggie pushed open a sliding glass door and stepped out. “We chose these doors so you could see the trees from the bed.” Maggie’s head turned, her gaze roaming up Ben’s body, slowly, lazily, until her green eyes collided with his. Again.

  Or maybe he had imagined it. His fantasies were probably running away with his sanity in tow.

  Holy hell, she looked incredible, her auburn curls blowing in the small breeze, mouth parted, breasts rising and falling. He wanted her panting and breathless under him. Ben was no longer semi-aroused, he was well on his way to full-blown wood, hard as the trees in front of him.

  He broke their gaze and headed back into the cabin. “It all looks good Maggie.”

  Deep breaths, deep breaths.

  Ben searched his mind for any image other than Maggie, laid out in front of the fireplace, body bare, hair tousled from their—Shit.

  He ran code in his head. Ones and zeroes, symbols and letters that looked like gibberish to most, but to him it had the effect
of baseball stats and cold water to his libido. He stepped back toward the kitchenette, putting as much distance between them as he could. Given the size of the cabin and his physical desire for her, it wasn’t nearly enough space.

  “Maybe we should talk about what’s really going on here, Ben. Get it out in the open.” She moved forward.

  “No!” he stumbled back out of her reach. This was turning from bad to worse. Get it together, Ben. His gaze caught the fireplace. Suddenly images of Aunt Sally baring herself in front of the stone fixture replaced those of Maggie’s sexy body. He felt the blood drain from his mid-section and was finally able to drag in a shaky breath.

  It was a hell of a way to snap out of the fog, but he’d take it.

  How the hell had he gotten here? One minute he was thinking about budgets and line items he could strike and the next he had his crazy aunt doing a naked cha-cha through his head.

  Maggie stepped back, hurt etched on her beautiful face. “I just think we should be open, be honest about our feelings.”

  He couldn’t think of anything worse. Talking about how hard he got whenever she came close? Why the hell would he want to do that?

  Maggie shook her head at him. “Ben, I can see you’re still out here making cuts, tallying dollar amounts you can save if you slash and burn your way through every project. You still refuse to see the dream your parents built. It’s only about numbers and figures to you.”

  “What?” What was she talking about?

  “I just think—” Maggie abruptly stopped.

  He didn’t ask her to continue. He wasn’t about to talk to her about the cost of his parents’ projects right now any more than he’d talk to her about his wayward dick. He’d made up his mind. He’d seen enough. They might have a “vision” for the lodge, but it would have to wait. Right now, costs had to be cut, hard choices had to be made. And he didn’t need their input for that.

  His mother’s and Maggie’s emotional ties to their vision of what they wanted the lodge to look like would only complicate things if he asked for their input. The more he thought about their frivolous spending, the angrier he got. And the angrier he got, the less he thought of Maggie naked. Which was a good thing.

  His parents and Maggie meant well. All they’d tried to do was follow their hearts, but their ignorance of how much they could lose baffled him. It was one thing to chase your dreams but not at the expense of possibly losing everything.

  Despite their pipe dreams, Ben liked Maggie. He liked her passion. He liked the way she fiercely stood up for his mom. He could see them becoming friends. The truth was, they were both trying to do the same thing: support his mom. They just had very different visions of how to do that.

  Maggie followed him out onto the porch. “Listen Ben, you need to understand, your mom and I love taking care of this place. It’s not a burden. We can make it work.”

  “But you don’t have to.”

  Maggie’s green eyes cut to his. “What does that mean?”

  He didn’t share that his idea of helping would include cutting some of the frivolous expenditures. He’d hold on to that information until he could make her see the bottom line. They could be friends. If he could make her see he wasn’t the enemy, maybe he could make her see that he was right. That he only cared about doing what was best for his mom, the lodge, and ultimately, Maggie.

  “It means I’m here to help, Maggie Mae.” He used her old childhood nickname on a whim, but realized this was the best way to get what he wanted.

  She snorted. “Well that’s nice of you, Benji.”

  Ben groaned. He abhorred his nickname. “What do I have to do so you never say that name again?”

  She grinned, that wicked glint returning to her eyes. “Come look at the wedding barn with me. I want you to see the whole vision. What your mom and I are working so hard on.”

  He grumbled but she laughed, smacking him on the arm. Excitement radiated from her entire being and Ben had to admit, he loved seeing Maggie happy.

  Where had that stupid thought come from? He shouldn’t care how she looked.

  Maggie bolted down the stairs. “Come on, Benji.”

  “Ugh, Benji?” he groaned as he stumbled down the steps. “You said if I looked at the barn, you wouldn’t call me that.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, a small smile showcasing soft, rosy lips. “I lied.” she winked.

  Heaven help him.

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie stood in the middle of the barn, waiting for Ben to catch up to her. He’d stopped to take a call from someone at his office. For some reason, she found herself hoping he wouldn’t have to leave to deal with something back at home. The thought was silly, really.

  Ben was the enemy. She could see him doing budget cuts in his head every time she tried to show him something about the lodge. She needed to keep her eye on the prize and protect Valerie from the hatchet job he was clearly planning to do on their business plan.

  As much as she wanted to keep her distance, Maggie found herself enjoying Ben’s company more than she should.

  Maggie shook off the thoughts and stared up at the new beams that stabilized the barn. Their intricately patterned design was truly a work of art, dreamed up by John in his original restoration plans. He had been a masterful architect.

  Had been.

  Maggie swallowed down the lump that threatened to break her and tucked away the memories, focusing on the here and now instead. And the here and now was Ben Sumner.

  He’d grown up since high school. No more shy nerd, he’d ditched his glasses and pocket protector for well-worn jeans that fit snugly in all the right places and T-shirts that stretched taut across his broad chest.

  If Maggie were being honest, she’d admit that she’d always seen the potential of Ben’s hotness perpetually hidden under his quiet exterior in high school. He’d always intimidated her too much to do anything about her attraction back then. She would bet most people saw her as the cool girl who wasn’t afraid of anything in high school, but they would have been wrong. She never could have approached him in anything more than friendship.

  Despite the cool air blowing through the open barn doors, Maggie fanned herself at the images his hardened body had elicited last night in her dreams.

  “Hey, Maggie.”

  Maggie jumped and glanced up at the voice, laughing when she saw Shawn Braddock, their general contractor, hanging from the rafters. He was able to build almost anything she, Valerie, or John had asked of him.

  “What are you doing up there?” she asked.

  “Just finishing up the joist work.” He pointed to the beams intersecting the roof. “I finally sheered up all the seams on the roof yesterday.”

  Maggie watched as Shawn shimmied down the side of the barn and jumped, his booted feet landing with a thud on the packed dirt. He brushed back his shaggy dark hair, revealing a cover-model-worthy face and blue eyes that could outshine any Colorado sky. As Maggie studied Shawn’s long lean form, she was surprised to feel nothing, no stirring of arousal, no longing for his embrace. Nothing like the unease and unwarranted desire she felt anytime she was around Ben.

  Maggie focused harder on Shawn and wondered why she couldn’t fall for a laid-back, easy guy like him. She knew women found Shawn outrageously gorgeous. Aunt Sally had even encouraged him to make a “Hot Men with Wood” calendar. Her daughter, Lily had nearly choked on her coffee when her mother had come up with the idea. But all the other women in town were on Aunt Sally’s side of that particular debate.

  Shawn had unfortunately declined.

  He straightened the tool belt around his waist, the weight of it pulling his already low-slung jeans to dangerous levels.

  Nothing. Maggie felt nothing as she stood staring at this man. Although she could appreciate Shawn’s male form, it was another man she pictured. A man she didn’t even consider a friend, yet.

  “So, how’s it going with the Sumner boys?” Shawn asked sarcastically. It was no secret that he wa
sn’t a fan of the Sumner brothers. Shawn lived and breathed loyalty and didn’t approve of the absence of the boys over the past few years. “Have they put a ‘For Sale’ sign in the front yard yet?”

  “Surprisingly, no.” Maggie smiled.

  Shawn stepped closer. “Are you for real? I’d kind of slowed down my men’s work, half expecting the guys to swoop in and sell the place after their father’s death.”

  Maggie side-stepped Shawn and surveyed the barn. The walls were redone, the roof patched and solid. It was all coming together. She sighed. “I’m taking Ben on a tour. I showed him the cabins. I wanted him to see what we’re doing here instead of just the numbers on a computer screen.”

  “And?”

  Maggie grasped one of the posts and swirled around to face him, smiling bright. “And…he agreed.”

  “Shit, are you kidding me, Maggie?”

  “Nope.” She said no, but she didn’t want to put too much assurance in her tone. She honestly wasn’t ready to believe Ben herself. It seemed a little too good to be true. “I don’t know if I’m ready to believe him, but he’ll be here to look at the barn soon.”

  Shawn advanced, scooping her up before she could protest, and swinging her around. “That’s awesome news, Maggie. This barn has really become special to me.” He released her and set her on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t explain it.”

  Maggie steadied herself on his shoulders. Broad shoulders, muscular shoulders.

  Nope. Nothing.

  Shawn leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  Still nothing.

  “Way to go, Maggie girl.” Shawn’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Zilch. Zero. Nada.

  Maggie’s stomach didn’t dip like it did when graced with one of Ben’s rare smiles. Her heart didn’t race, her hands didn’t sweat, her lady parts didn’t pulsate and beg to be stroked like they did when Ben Sumner was around. Dammit. This attraction was so inconvenient.

  “Hey, Maggie! You here?” A familiar female voice rang from outside the barn door just as one of Sally’s six daughters, Lily Sumner, stepped inside.

  Maggie turned, still balanced against Shawn’s shoulders, and smiled at Lily. “Hey girl.”

 

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