Second Chance at the Sugar Shack (15 page)

She didn’t have a single prospect to hire for the bakery. The girls had barely begun to paint the furniture they’d found for the dress shop and the racks were in boxes on the floor. Her dad still wasn’t sleeping in bed at night. She had to find the puppy’s parents. And her brother and sister were incommunicado.

How the hell could she walk away from all that?

An even bigger question had started to poke its dirty little head into her conscience . . . did she even
want
to walk away?

She’d just begun to feel like she had a handle on things. Well, mostly the relationship with her mom. They’d chipped off a piece of the barrier between them and Kate couldn’t help but be optimistic that good things were in her future. It honestly felt like someone had pulled a dark shadow off her heart and replaced it with a sprinkle of some kind of happy dust. Like she was in the process of reinventing herself. Again.

It was one level of crazy to admit to mending the relationship with her mother from beyond the grave, but that she would even consider walking away from the career she’d worked so hard to build? Anyone who knew her would call her a certifiable wacko.

She’d be the first in line.

But the longer she stayed, the more she began to care. And the more she began to care, the more she could see herself staying put. Who knew?

Humming with the song on the radio she pulled the muffin pan closer, slathered peanut butter over the brownies in the half-filled baking cups then added the ice cream. After she smoothed the ice cream down, she sprinkled toffee bits, iced the tops with buttercream, drizzled them with caramel and sprinkled on slivers of dark chocolate. Then with a sense of creative satisfaction she stuck the entire pan into the freezer.

Finally done for the day, she went back to the prep table and began to gather up her tools. A loud creak came from the back door. Kate turned just in time to see the knob twist. Heart pounding in her throat she picked up a chopping knife and held it in front of her as the door swung open.

“Burning the midnight oil?”

Breath whooshed from her lungs when she saw Matt standing there in his deputy uniform and the jacket she’d handed off to James Harley earlier that day.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, taking a deep breath to bring her racing heart down to normal. “You scared the heck out of me.”

“You plan to use that thing?” He took a few steps closer. Humor flashed in his eyes as he gave a nod to the sharp implement in her hand.

“Got a good reason why I shouldn’t?” she asked.

“Probably.” He gave her a rare smile that made him even more handsome than normal. And that was really saying something. “But I figure I could disarm you faster than it would take to make up a story.”

“Oh yeah?” Her fingers tightened around the wooden handle.

The words had barely left her mouth before he pulled the knife from her hand, wrapped his arms around her, and held her hands behind her back.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Wow.” She looked up at him. “You work fast.” With her breasts mashed against his big solid body, breathing became impossible. In this case, she didn’t mind suffering. “What are you doing here? I thought I irritated the hell out of you.”

“Among other things.” He looked down at her. His cool gaze searched her face. Lingered on her mouth.

Trapped within his arms she felt the heavy pull of desire and a hot tingle spread across her chest. Only a slice of air separated their mouths. The scent of his aftershave filled her head with images she had no business thinking. Matt was a part of her past not a part of her future.

Too bad her body had other ideas. “Well, you irritate the hell out of me too.”

“Bet I can change your mind.”

His cockiness triggered her temper. “You know, Deputy Ryan, this is the second time you’ve shackled my wrists. Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re into bondage?”

A slow sensual smile curved his lips. “Would that shock you?”

“I live in Hollywood. Nothing shocks me.”

His quiet humor curled around her. “You sure about that?”

H
er eyes widened.

Her lips parted.

And Matt lowered his head.

He hadn’t intended to walk in the bakery and kiss her, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He didn’t even have the sense to be appalled at his behavior. He was too busy drowning in the savage lust beating through his veins, pounding in his chest and grinding through his groin. From the moment she’d curled her hands into his shirt and he’d surrendered to what he thought was one last taste of her, he’d thought of nothing else than tasting her again.

He savored the sugary scent of her skin while he fought the urge to back her up against the counter, slide those jeans down her legs, and bury himself inside her slick, hot body.

Her mouth tasted sweet like rich chocolate, and by the way she had her body pressed up against him, she was as hungry for him as he was for her. He let go of her hands and she brought them around to cup his head. Then those exploring fingers glided across his shoulders and down his chest. The touch of her palms spread fire across his skin, lighting him up with pleasure and pain.

He cupped the back of her neck and her silken hair draped over his hand. He imagined how it would feel fanning across his bare chest and the kiss delved deeper. She moaned into his mouth while his opposite hand snuck beneath the hem of her sweater. Her skin was warm and soft as he slid his palm down the small of her back and tucked his fingertips between worn denim and soft skin. He pulled her tight against him. He ached for her. Needed her. While his tongue plunged into her mouth, her hands walked down his chest and she reached for the buttons on his shirt.

His mouth found the curve of her neck. In total submission, she dropped her head back to give him access.

Sanity roared back and popped him on the head. As much as he ached for her, he set her away from him. Their eyes met. With ragged, uneven breathing she stared back.

“Still think nothing can shock you?”

A slow smile curled her lips. “You’re pretty good at that, Deputy.”

“Thanks.”

“But you’ll have to do better than that to upset my banana cart.” She reached for a muffin pan and began sticking frilly paper cups inside the molds.

“That sounds like a challenge.” One he definitely wouldn’t mind taking her up on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m creating.” She poked a finger in the center of a cup and pressed it into place. “I figured as long as I’m here I had better keep myself entertained. So I’m coming up with some new items to add to the menu.”

He planted a hip against the counter. “You always were the ambitious type.”

She looked up at him and frowned. “Is that another dig?”

“No.” He laughed. “I just remember you were always up to something. Like the time you hauled me to that old blow-me-down barn to salvage wood. Then you had me helping you build dog houses for the next three weeks so you could donate them to the animal shelter.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“That’s because you were wearing short shorts and a tank top and bending over all day. I’m a guy. Of course I didn’t mind.”

“Well, my idea kept some poor homeless doggies warm.”

And for weeks afterward, thoughts of her pounding nails had kept him warm too. But it had always been more than just sexuality with Kate. For a long time she’d been the only person he’d been able to count on when his world had been a total bag of shit. They’d spent hours and hours together talking, laughing, dreaming. She’d listened to him and never judged him for the life he’d been born into or the way he dealt with his mother.

She’d loved him. Or so he’d thought. And she’d given him the one thing no one else had been able to. She’d given him hope for a better life.

He watched as she went to the freezer, yanked open the steel door and pulled out a tray. Her movements were almost musical, like inside her head she was dancing and her arms and legs followed the rhythm. He remembered that about her too. She’d always been an inspiration to watch whether she’d been scooping up chili for the walking tacos they sold at the FFA booth at the fairgrounds or cleaning out the stalls for her summer job at the Clear River Lodge. She put her heart and soul into everything she did, even if it meant she ended up smelling like donkey dung.

“Here,” she said, lifting a cupcake from the pan and handing it to him. “Try this and tell me what you think.” She leaned back and folded her arms.

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

The overhead lights hit her eyes and he could swear they sparkled with mischief. “Would that shock you?”

“Not at all.” He bit into the cake and flavor exploded across his tongue. The rich chocolate and caramel were the same he’d tasted when he’d kissed her. He closed his eyes, savored the smoothness, the passion of the dessert. He heard himself moan.

“You like it?” Excitement danced in her words.

He moaned again. “I think you’re onto something here, Hollywood.”

She clapped her hands and gave a little jump of pleasure that landed her right in his arms.

Without hesitation she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. It took everything he had to keep from wrapping his arms around her and holding her there, right against his heart. He’d been in love with Kate over ten years ago, when neither of them knew much about anything except they liked being together. And even now when he knew better, even now when he was a thirty-two-year-old man established in the community and well in control of his life, chances were he was still probably a little in love.

Now
that
would shock her.

Because it sure as hell shocked him.

C
HAPTER
T
EN

T
he following morning, Matt stood at the kitchen window looking out over the lake. The cup of coffee in his hand had grown cold while he berated himself for giving in to the urge to stop at the Shack last night where he’d proceeded to kiss Kate. God. Why did he continue to torture himself? Hadn’t he learned his lesson? When it came to Kate, obviously not.

To make matters worse, he’d enjoyed himself. Over coffee and her mouthwatering cupcakes they’d laughed about old times. They’d talked more about her career and he’d gained a better understanding of what she actually did to be paid such a high salary. He’d been impressed, even proud of her. But the conversation they’d had did nothing to disprove she was anything more than a temporary fixture in Deer Lick. She loved what she did. And once she finished up here, she would leave. She made it clear that this town couldn’t hold her. What made him think
he
could? He hadn’t been enough for her then. Why would he be enough for her now?

Little had changed. He was still the same man. A little more mature. A little rough around the edges. But he still had the same soul. He still had his pride. And as much as he wanted the woman who’d set his soul on fire years ago, he would never let her strip him of his pride. At least, never again.

He sipped the cold java and frowned. He’d best take his own advice and stay away from her. He’d set his life in motion. He wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to stand in his way.

Prepared to take action on getting back on track, he strolled into the kitchen, dumped the coffee in the sink, and poured himself a fresh cup. Then he sat down with his To Do list and picked up the phone. He punched in the numbers to call Emma Hart and ask her out for a date. He’d take her someplace special. Someplace dark and romantic. Someplace where he wouldn’t be tempted to think of Kate. Or her soft mouth. Or how much he wanted her. Body, heart, and soul.

K
ate sighed with relief as she locked the back door to the bakery and headed toward her mother’s car. Matt had not made an appearance for his tuna sub today. Apparently the gods had been listening last night when she’d prayed herself to sleep. She had no control when it came to that man. He was like an inviting tropical pool on a hot summer day. And she’d be smart to remember her lack of swimming skills.

She opened the car door and the pup jumped in. Or he attempted to. His back legs just weren’t long enough or strong enough to complete the process. With a chuckle, she picked up his hindquarters and gave him a little help. As she started the engine, he sat beside her on the bench seat, his pink tongue lolling happily from between his tiny teeth.

“Day’s not over, pup. We still need to put in some time at the dress shop.” His warm brown eyes sparkled up at her and her heart melted. She stroked his head. “I’m sorry your parents haven’t come to claim you yet. I put an ad in the paper and dropped some flyers around town but . . .” She hugged him and ruffled his soft fur. “I guess I can’t keep calling you pup, can I?”

Kate shifted the car into drive as he gave a little whine and wagged his tail. A chill engulfed the interior of the car and from the radio, Tom Jones began to sing.

“Why don’t you call him Tom?”

“Mom!” Kate hit the brakes and swung around in her seat. “Where have you been?”

“Tom’s a good name.”

“He doesn’t look like a Tom,” Kate said, stroking the puppy’s soft fur.

“Rover?”

“No.”

“Fido?”

“Come on, Mom. You can be more creative than that.”

“He’s
your
dog.”

Kate glanced down. “He’s not
my
dog. He belongs to somebody.”

“Yeah.” Her mother chuckled. “You.”

“I can’t have a dog. I’m never home.” A niggling misery squeezed her heart when she thought of all those times she
was
home. And alone. And lonely. “He’s going to grow up and be huge. I couldn’t take him to red carpet events like Paris does her dog-of-the-month. He’d never fit in a purse. He needs a place to run, chase squirrels and be who he really is. He wouldn’t be happy in Hollywood.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Happy in Hollywood?”

“Well . . . of course I am.”

Her mother let go a long sigh. “You sure about that?”

Kate pulled the car to the curb in front of the shop. “Are we back at this again? Why does everyone keep questioning my life?”

“Why do you keep feeling the need to defend it?”

Good question. Why did she? Her life in Hollywood was like a giant Scrabble board where she had too many missing pieces to complete the game. All the wham-bam-snap-and-sizzle was there, but too little of the warm and fuzzy. She stroked her hand across the pup’s soft fur. She’d kind of grown fond of warm and fuzzy.

Kate put the car in park and turned in her seat. The shadows clouding her mother’s eyes knocked the breath from her lungs. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to back you in a corner. Old habits die hard, I guess.” Her mother swept her finger across the empty place where her wedding ring had sat for thirty-six years. “It’s just that . . . I love you, Katherine. And I’m worried about you.”

Kate closed her eyes, letting her mother’s “I love you” settle into her soul. She let it curl around her heart. When she opened her eyes to respond, her mother had disappeared.

K
ate snapped the last clothes rack into place and grumbled to the pup stretched out on his side, watching every move she made.

“Other than Hollywood, you name one other place I could have had all those opportunities.” She crossed the room to fluff the creamy satin curtains that framed the front window. “I’ve been living the life I always dreamed of. I make tons of money. I have friends in high places and . . .”

The dog sat up and cocked his head.

“What?”

He whined.

She propped her hands on her hips. “You don’t believe me?”

He sneezed.

“Fine. Jump on the bandwagon.”

He gave a little bark as if clarifying he already had one paw onboard.

“Excuse me. Kate?”

Kate turned. In the doorway stood the pretty blond who’d been with Matt at her mother’s funeral. Her straight hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. The gray overcoat she wore looked two sizes too big for her. “Can I help you?”

The blond smiled, extended her hand, and stepped forward. “I’m Emma Hart. I’m sure you don’t remember me since we’ve never really met . . . properly. I was in the same grade as your sister. I just wanted to say I’m so sorry about your mother. She was such a wonderful woman.”

“Thank you.” Kate shook her hand and returned to her curtain fluffing, if only as a distraction from the pity in Emma’s eyes.

“Cute puppy,” Emma said, kneeling to the ground. Obviously she didn’t care if her gray slacks became a dog hair disposal. “Is he yours?”

Kate shook her head, gave the curtains a final tug, and turned. “I found him out by Ma—” Not knowing the extent of Matt and Emma’s relationship, Kate quickly corrected herself. “By the lake. I’ve been trying to find his parents.”

Emma scratched him beneath his chin and his hind leg twitched. “He’s adorable.”

“He likes you. Maybe you’d like to give him a home.”

“I’m afraid he wouldn’t get along with my cat, Oscar. He’s old and cranky and a little possessive.”

Kate moved behind the front counter and began to sort through the inventory photos she’d taken of each gown after they arrived that afternoon. “What can I do for you, Emma? I’m sure you didn’t come in here just to talk about my stray dog.”

“You’re very perceptive.” Emma bit her bottom lip, approached the front counter warily, and set her black vinyl purse on top. Her hands shook. “Actually I can’t believe I even got up the nerve to come here in the first place.”

The way Emma rushed her words, Kate realized she was making the woman uneasy. And that she was probably coming off as a bit bitchy. Even if it didn’t matter to Kate who this woman was or her involvement with Matt, she had no right to be rude. Kate gave her a comforting smile. “Take your time. No need to be nervous. The dog doesn’t bite and neither do I.”

“I’m glad.” Emma laughed, then her smile faded. “Okay. Here goes . . . I’m a schoolteacher and I’m totally fashion blind. The only sense of style I have is enough common sense not to wear the hideous teacher sweaters my colleagues give me for Christmas. You know, the patchwork kind with mice and rabbits and ABCs on them?” She shuddered. “I don’t want to hurt their feelings, but those sweaters are dumpy and frumpy. For heaven’s sake, I’m only thirty-two, not sixty-five and ready to retire.”

Kate laughed.

“At work I do need to dress appropriately. And since my work is the biggest part of my life, well . . . in my off hours I’m afraid of venturing beyond jeans and sweatshirts.”

“And that gets a little boring, right?” Kate said, wondering where this conversation was headed.

“Yes.” Emma’s eyes widened and she nodded. “And as much as I hate to ask for help, I’m desperate. I admire your work—your style, so much. Kate Winslet looked absolutely stunning at the Golden Globes this year.”

The compliment flowed over Kate and made her smile. Too bad all she’d really done was to match a vintage Valentino with the right chandelier earrings to accomplish the look. The actress really didn’t need any help when it came to adding the gorgeous factor. “Thank you.”

“Which is why I need to ask for your help.”

“
My
help?”

“Yes. For the first time in my life I need to look fabulous.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. The name of this shop is Cindi Rella’s Attic.”

“Perfect.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I’ve been asked out for a very romantic date. Actually, it’s our first date and I’d love to look stunning. Maybe even a little bit . . . sexy.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “Nothing like my usual self.”

“Wow.” Kate could feel Emma’s anticipation all the way across the counter. “Sounds exciting. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Emma smiled. “Matt Ryan.”

Kate’s heart took a little sidestep.

Of course it was Matt.

Who else in the world did Kate think would ask Emma out?

The
first
date thing had thrown her. And now, what would she say? She couldn’t say no. Emma seemed like a really nice woman, someone she could picture as a friend.

But last night Matt had had his lips on
hers
.

So why did he keep kissing her if he wasn’t interested?

Was it some kind of perverse payback?

And why the hell had she enjoyed it so much?

T
he following Friday night, to keep her mind from speculating how Emma and Matt’s date was going, Kate threw herself into completing the final touches on the shop. Cindi’s Attic would soon open to the darlings of Deer Lick. She hung the last gown on the rack and adjusted the hangers until they were all separated by the exact same width. A lump of pride clogged her heart as she stood back and took it all in. The pink-and-white striped curtains that hung from a PVC pipe frame her father made to create two dressing rooms. The chandelier’s sparkling crystals that glittered across the ceiling. And the two wicker chairs and table that highlighted the front window.

Her girls had put some amazing details into the place that made it look more like a chic Manhattan boutique than a former craft supply shop.

Her young celebrities had really come through as well. Not only had they supplied her with a myriad of elegant creations, but the sparkly accessories to complete the look. Even a few tiaras.

Each dress had come with the name of the celebrity who donated the item as well as the background of where it had been worn. For these local girls to know that they were stepping into the same designs that had been displayed by the likes of Taylor Swift, Kristen Stewart, Selena Gomez, or a number of other popular celebs would only add to their overall experience.

Anxious to complete her To Do list, she stepped over the dozing pup to arrange the costume jewelry in the glass case. The bell above the glass door chimed and Kate looked up.

In the heart of Girly Central, looking as though he would fit in anywhere, stood Matt. Though Kate could tell the fabric wasn’t designer quality, the charcoal suit he wore fit him as though it had been tailored specifically for his broad shoulders and trim waist. The royal blue tie accented his piercing eyes.

A silent sigh pushed from her lungs.

GQ
really didn’t know what they were missing. Deputy Matt Ryan was drop-dead spectacular. Aside from the scowl on his face, of course. Whatever he was pissed about this time, she really didn’t want any of that action. He ran more hot and cold than the natural springs that fed into the creek behind Shoreline Lodge.

“Go away.” She turned her back to him and resumed her work. The pup rushed for protection behind her legs and gave a little growl at their intruder.

“Not until I find out what the hell you’re up to.”

She waved a hand over the glass surface. “Clearly I’m arranging jewelry.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His strong jawline clenched and Kate had to admit she’d never seen him quite so tweaked. Well, except for the moment he’d discovered she’d come back to Deer Lick. And when Josh had called and interrupted their kiss. And, oh, about a hundred other times she could think of.

She exhaled a hard breath. “Then why don’t you tell me what you meant,
Deputy Ryan
.”

He closed the door behind him, stepped closer, and towered over her. The spicy scent of his cologne and his blatant masculinity stroked every drop of estrogen humming through her body.

“What the hell did you do to Emma?” he demanded.

Great. Just what she needed, a small-town critic. She stared at him. “You didn’t like what you saw?”

“I didn’t like that you took a nice girl and turned her into one of your Sin City harlots.”

“A harlot?” she sputtered. “Are you kidding me? Who even uses that word?” She studied him—the glare speared in her direction, the twitch in his jawline, the stiffness to his broad shoulders, the clenched fists hanging at his sides. What was all this animosity really about? Emma? Her? Or him?