“Told you you’d be surprised what your type is,” Max said with a grin.
Logan threw a rolled-up napkin at his dad and shook his head with a laugh. But last month, Xander had caught wind of some of his father’s arguments with Logan about dating a single mother. Max had hinted that if the relationship didn’t work out, there would be three sad hearts—including a child who didn’t ask to get dragged into the muck. Xander had known his father had to be thinking of his ex-wife and how she’d abandoned them all. Times like that, he forgave his dad for being such a busybody.
Still, Xander was sticking to his type, but this time, there was no way any woman was getting inside. These days, he was only interested in a good time and he always made that clear.
Except that hadn’t been clear to Lily Hunt. Oh hell. She’d thought she was going on a date in good faith, that had gotten all messed up, and then he’d stepped in to save the night—and had ended up making it worse. He shook his head at himself. Now he really did want to call her and doubly apologize, but how would that sound?
Uh, hi, Lily, sorry for making your night go from bad to worse when you actually thought I was leaning in a for kiss.
Getting stood up by Knox might have been more fun.
He sighed.
But maybe Lily was just out for a good time herself? Could it be? She seemed a little too focused and serious-minded for that, though. Still, with her life so set on track, perhaps she just wanted a nice night out and some laughs. It was possible.
He tried to imagine Lily Hunt, with her freckles and big dreams and flashing green eyes, so full of life, out for a good time, giggling and whispering about what she was going to do to him while raking her nails up his thigh. Frankly, he couldn’t. First of all, her nails had been bitten to the quick. And honestly, he didn’t want to think of her in any way but as a new friend.
“Well, I need to do some research on the cattle we want to add to the Ambling A,” Xander said. “See y’all in the morning.” He took the steps two at the time, wanting to get away from this conversation.
Lily wasn’t his type. Plain and simple. And even if she were, he wouldn’t be interested in a relationship. Not anymore. Besides, he had the ranch to concentrate on and a new state to discover, not to mention a new hometown to get to know. That was enough.
Just let the night go, he told himself.
Upstairs in his bedroom, he sat at his desk and opened his laptop, fully intending to research local cattle sales. But he found himself going to the website for the Maverick Manor and looking at their lunch menu—just in case he wanted to drop in tomorrow after a hard morning’s work.
“French dip au jus on crusty French bread and a side of hand-cut steak fries” was one of tomorrow’s lunch specials. He’d just eaten and his mouth was already watering for that meal. Yeah, maybe he’d go to the Manor for lunch and even pop into the kitchen to say hi to Lily.
That was what friends did, right? Popped in? Visited? Said a quick hello? He’d do that and leave. That would make things good between them, get rid of all that awkwardness from tonight. They could truly be friends. Everyone could always use another friend.
But damn if he wasn’t sitting there, staring at the list of the Maverick Manor’s decadent desserts and thinking about feeding Lily succulent strawberries, watching her mouth take the juicy red fruit.
What the hell? The woman wasn’t his type! They were just going to be buddies.
He clicked over to the cattle sale site, forcing his mind onto steers and heifers and far from strawberries and twenty-three-year-old Lily Hunt.
* * *
“Ooh, Lily, that hot Crawford cowboy was just seated at table three,” whispered AnnaBeth Bellows, a waitress at the Maverick Manor and Lily’s good friend. Lily had told AnnaBeth about her date with Xander so Lily knew the hot cowboy had to be him.
She almost gasped yet kept her focus on her broiled shrimp, caramelizing just so in garlic, olive oil and sea salt. She added a hint of cayenne in the last few seconds, and plated it the moment she knew it was done. Sixth sense.
According to Mark, table eight’s waiter, the group was from New Orleans originally even though they lived in Kalispell now. Lily always had the waiters find out where her diners were from so she could add a tiny taste of home to their dishes. It was just a little thing Lily did that her diners seemed to appreciate, even if they didn’t know why they reacted so strongly, so emotionally to their food. The other cooks thought it was a lot to deal with, but Lily enjoyed the whole process. Food was special. Food was your family. Food was home in a good way, the best way, and could remind people of wonderful memories. Sometimes sad memories, too. But evoking those feelings seemed to have a good impact on her diners and on her. So she continued the tradition.
She placed the gorgeous shrimp, a deep, rich bronze, with its side of seasoned vegetables on the waiter’s station and raced to the Out door to the dining room. She peered through the little round window on the door, looking for the sexy cowboy.
Yes, there he was. Sitting by himself, thank God, and not with a date set up by Viv Dalton, which was her immediate fear when AnnaBeth had whispered that he was here.
Of course, he could be waiting on a date.
“Dining alone,” AnnaBeth said with a smile.
Lily couldn’t help grinning back, her heart flip-flopping. “Could a man be more gorgeous?”
“Yes—my boyfriend,” AnnaBeth said, “even if Petey-pie has a receding hairline and a bit of a belly. He’s hot to me.”
Lily laughed. “And Pete’s the greatest guy ever, too.” Yes, indeed, Lily should aspire to a wonderful guy like AnnaBeth’s “Petey-pie.” Kind. Loyal. Full of integrity. Brought her little gifts for no reason. Called her AnnaBeauty all the time. Making Lily wistful.
Lily bit her lip. “Okay, why is Xander here after that awkward moment from hell last night on our not-a-date?”
“The almost kiss,” AnnaBeth suggested, watching for the other two cooks plating, which meant she’d have to rush off to pick up. “I’m telling you, Xander was just caught off guard. He wasn’t even expecting to have a date last night, right? But then he did, a wings picnic, and he fell madly in love with you but didn’t expect to and now he’s here to ask you out again.”
Lily laughed. “I love you, AnnaBeth. Seriously. Everyone needs one of you. But life is not a Christmas movie. Even though I wish it were.”
“Listen, my friend. You have to make your own magic. Just like you do with your food.”
Lily watched Xander close the menu. She wondered what he’d decided on.
“Ah, time to take the cowboy’s order,” AnnaBeth said. “Back in a flash.”
Lily watched them until she noticed her boss, Gwendolyn, eyeing her and then staring at her empty cooking station. She darted to her stove, working on another batch of au jus for today’s French dip special.
In a minute, AnnaBeth was back with Xander’s order. The special.
She smiled and began working on it and four more for other tables. But to table three’s sauce she added just a hint of sweet, smoky barbecue sauce, a flavor that would take Xander Crawford back to Texas where he’d lived his whole life until a month ago.
Could he be here to see her? If he wasn’t interested in her—and he sure hadn’t seemed to be last night with that not-kiss thing—wouldn’t he avoid where she worked?
But then she thought of him and the reaction he must get from women, and she was flooded with doubts. There was no way Lily of the hoodie and sneakers would be Xander Crawford’s type. When she was young and girls at school would make fun of her for being a tomboy, her mother would always say, You’re exactly as you should be—yourself. That had always made Lily feel better. And maybe Xander liked a down-to-earth woman with flour on her cheek and smelling of onions and caramelized shrimp and peppercorns.
Anything was possible. That was the na
me of the game.
She smiled at the thought, adding a pinch of garam masala to table twelve’s sauce since they were honeymooners who’d just returned from India. For table fourteen, visitors from Maine, she added a dash of Bell’s Seasoning, a famed New England blend of rosemary, sage, oregano and other spices.
Lily worked on five more entrées, her apron splattered, her mind moving so fast she could barely think about Xander in the dining room, eating her food right now. Was he enjoying it? Did it hit the spot? Did it bring a little bit of Texas to Montana today?
“Five-minute break if you need it,” Gwendolyn called out to her. “Your tables are all freshly served so you’re clear.”
“Ah, great,” she said, grabbing her water bottle and taking a big swig, staring out the long, narrow window at the Montana wilderness at the back of the Manor.
“I just had the best French dip sandwich of my life,” a deep voice said from behind her, and she almost jumped.
Xander! Standing right there.
“Craziest thing,” he said. “I took two bites and started thinking about the ranch I grew up on in Dallas, my dad teaching me and Hunter how to ride a two-wheeler. I was a little mad at my dad earlier, and now I’m full of good memories, so he’s back out of the doghouse.”
“You can’t be in here,” she whispered, trying to hide her grin. She shooed him out the back door, the breezy August air so refreshing on her face. “So you loved the French dip?”
“Beyond loved it. It tasted like...home. I know this is home now, but that sandwich reminded me of Texas in a good way. And I left behind some things I’d like to forget.”
Huh. Like what? she wondered. A bad relationship? His heart?
“It’s a little trick my mother taught me when I was young,” she said, making herself keep her mind on the conversation. “My maternal grandparents moved to Montana from Louisiana, and my grandmother would add just a dash of creole seasoning to everything she cooked here because it reminded her of the bayou. My mama was a little girl when they left the South, and she never forgot that taste, so she taught me about it. Now I try to add a little taste of home in all my orders. It’s easy for the waiters to get a personal tidbit about where they’re from or have just been.”
He stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. What was he thinking? “You’re not an everyday person, Lily Hunt.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that. “Uh, thank you?”
He smiled. “I mean that in the best way possible. I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone like you. You have a bit of the leprechaun in you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Aren’t leprechauns supposed to be the worst kind of mischievous?”
“Magical. That’s what I meant. You’ve got a bit of magic in you.” His voice held a note of reverence, and she was so startled by it, so overwhelmed, that she couldn’t speak.
“I have to have another French dip,” he said. “For the road. It was so good I feel like I should get seven to go for my brothers and dad. In fact, can you take that order?”
She grinned. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Maybe they’ll get off my case about last night’s date and stop asking me all kinds of questions. I tried to tell them we’re just friends, that it wasn’t really a date date, since you were fixed up with Knox. But you know how brothers are.”
Her heart sank to her stomach, so she wasn’t capable of speech at the moment. All she could manage was a deep everlasting sigh of doom.
Why had she let herself believe a nutty fantasy that this man, six foot two, body of Adonis, face of a movie star, a man who could have any woman in this town, would go for the tomboy with red hair who smelled like onions? Why? Was she that delusional?
I love how passionate you are, he’d said more than once in the very short time they’d known each other.
She wasn’t delusional. She was passionate about life—and love, even if she’d never experienced it. She sure knew what incredible heart-pounding lust felt like, though. Because she felt it right now. With Xander Crawford.
This is what it feels like to fall in love. And it was impossible to stop, like a speeding train, even if the object of her affection just told her “it wasn’t a date date” and they were “just friends.”
Just friends.
Get back to earth, she told herself. Go make his seven French dips to go.
“Well, back to work!” she said too brightly, and dashed inside, then realized she’d left him high and dry in the back and he’d have to find his way around to the front of the hotel to return to the dining room.
He’ll manage, she thought as she got back to her station to prepare his order. She saw him sneak and dart through the kitchen, her heart leaping at the quick sight of him. Sigh, sigh, sigh.
“Lily, you’re amazing,” her boss said. “Seven French dips to go for table three?” Gwendolyn was beaming at her, so at least she had big love at work if not in her personal life.
Forget Xander Crawford and focus on where you want to be next year: owning your own catering shop or little café, whisking your customers away to home.
Sure. As if she could forget Xander for a second.
Chapter Three
“Am I right?” Xander asked his brothers and father as they sat on the backyard patio of the Ambling A, gobbling up their French dips. “Is this incredibly delicious or what?”
The Crawfords were so busy eating they barely stopped long enough to agree. Knox held up his beer at Xander. Hunter said he wanted two more.
“I’ll tell you what I’m right about,” his father said, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. “That you went to Maverick Manor for lunch just so you could see the pretty chef again. Admit it.”
“Yeah, admit it,” Finn said with a grin.
What was that old line? No good deed went unpunished? No way would he ever bring these gossips a good lunch again! “I went because I was hungry. So how’s the roof on the barn coming, Logan?” he asked his eldest brother, hoping the others would shut the hell up.
“Logan, tell Xander instead how wonderful married life is,” his dad said. “Someone special to come home to at the end of a long, hard day.”
Oh, brother. Literally.
Logan laughed, finishing the rest of his French dip and taking a sip of his beer. “First, that was damned good. Compliments to your chef, Xan.”
“She is not my chef!” Xander shouted.
Six Crawfords laughed. One stewed in his chair.
“Second, Dad is right,” Logan said. “Finding Sarah changed my life. Nothing beats coming home to her every night, waking up to her every morning. And raising that cherub Sophia with her? I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”
Huh. Xander eyed his brother. He was dead serious, heart-on-his-sleeve earnest.
“All of you are going to be that lucky, too,” the Crawford patriarch said. “You know, I had to be both mother and father to you boys. I didn’t always get it right. I guess I want just to see you all settled down and happy. I want you to have everything you deserve. All the happiness.”
Logan put a hand on his dad’s shoulder.
“To happiness,” Finn said, raising his beer. “I’m into it.”
“Even Knox can’t not toast to that,” Hunter said.
Xander eyed the always-intense Crawford brother. Knox raised his beer again with a bit of a scowl. Knox had thanked him for going out with Lily in his place, then had grimaced when Max Crawford said, “Now that you’re over being stubborn about it, there are a hundred more single beauties out there, Knox, ole boy.”
“First of all, I’m still not going out with anyone,” Knox had said. “Secondly, there probably aren’t a hundred people in this town, Dad,” he’d added, and had made himself scarce until he smelled the French dips.
Rust Creek Falls was tiny, less than a thousand residents
, but nine hundred fifty of those had to be single women. Or at least that was how it had felt ever since Max Crawford had announced—erroneously!—that his six sons were looking for wives.
“Xander, you should probably make a reservation at the Manor for dinner now, just in case,” Max said with a grin. “Find out if your chef is working first, though.”
Xander got up, tossing his wrappers in the trash can. “I think I hear one of the calves calling for me.” He headed for the barn, the too-familiar sound of his brothers’ laughter trailing him.
His chef. Hardly!
“Mmm, mmm,” he heard his dad say as he rounded the barn. “This roast beef takes me right back to Texas. Coulda ordered it from Joey’s Roadhouse, am I right?”
Xander smiled. Told you. He’d been taken by surprise as bits and pieces of memories had popped into his mind while eating at the restaurant. Just flickers that he thought he’d forgotten: Logan threatening a bully on his behalf. Knox telling their dad off when he thought their dad was being unfair with Xander about something. The constant runs to the grocery store for milk since six growing boys could finish a gallon after one cold-cereal breakfast. Christmas after Christmas, each boy picking a brother’s name from the Santa hat to buy for, the three years in a row that he got Hunter.
His mother in a yellow apron.
Now it was his turn to scowl. He didn’t often think about his mom. He didn’t remember much about her, just maybe the thought of her. There were few pictures of Sheila Crawford in the family photo albums; he had no idea what his dad had done with the rest of them. Max had probably stored them up in the attic, leaving just a few for the boys to have some idea what their mother had looked like. Logan, Xander and Hunter remembered her the most but even they had been too young to hold a picture of her in their minds. Somehow, Xander did remember the yellow apron. And long brown hair.
A calf gave out a mini moo and he shook his head to clear his mind. All this thinking of home and his family’s ribbing him about “his chef” nicely contradicted each other. Thinking about his mother reminded him that marriage didn’t work out. That even the people you could count on to love you, by birthright, could leave. Just walk away without looking back. Between that and finding his girlfriend and best friend in bed, he gave a big “yeah right” to happily-ever-after.
Rust Creek Falls Cinderella (Montana Mavericks: Six Brides For Six Brothers Book 2) Page 3
