Three
“You gave me a ten out of ten, Cade. You didn’t have one thing negative to say about the casserole,” Harper said as she walked beside him along the path leading away from the cabin.
“I ate two helpings. That should tell you something.”
“So, you think it deserves to be in my book?”
“Your unnamed cookbook? Yeah, you should put it in there. What’s it called anyway? Quiche Dawn?”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t name it after myself. My ego isn’t that big, Cade,” she said, walking past him to master an incline.
He wasn’t far behind. And every so often, when she turned unexpectedly, she’d catch him checking out her legs. He’d avert his gaze immediately, but she knew. Now, that was good for her ego, and it proved that maybe he was coming out of his grief a little bit.
When Cade had suggested they have lunch on the hike, she’d loaded his backpack with a few items, and now he looked like a bona fide hiker with the pack on his back. Both wore sunglasses and hats, which served her well, adding to her disguise.
As she reached a plateau at the top of the incline overlooking a field, she waited for Cade. “You have to see this,” she said.
Cade was beside her instantly, their shoulders nearly touching as they gazed out upon an array of brilliant pastel wildflowers. It stretched on for acres, it seemed, and it was Harper’s favorite part of her hike.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked Cade.
“It is. It’s called Manta de Flores Silvestres, blanket of wildflowers.”
She turned to face him. “You know about it?”
He nodded. “I’ve been here once, a long time ago when I was a boy. I guess I’d forgotten about it. But it’s something you don’t see every day.”
“It’s breathtaking. Aside from the bluebonnets, which are in abundance, there’s so many other varieties out there. I wish I had my camera. And I keep forgetting my phone.”
“Well, hold on. I’ve got mine.” He took his backpack off and grabbed his phone. “Smile.”
“Oh no. I don’t want to be in the picture. I’ll ruin it.” She backed up, getting out of camera range quickly, and stumbled on a rock behind her. She lost her footing and began falling backward.
He grabbed her immediately, pulling her up, and the momentum from his strength landed her right smack up against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, securing her body.
“Whoa, there,” Cade whispered. “Are you okay?”
His lips brushed her forehead, and her heart raced much faster than when she was falling. He was hard all over, his chest a piece of granite, and being held in his strong arms made her feel amazingly safe. She hadn’t felt this safe since, well, before she became a star of One Last Date. “I—I think so.”
Yet she clung to him, closing her eyes, relishing the security of being in his arms. He held on to her without moving, without trying to back away. They were locked in place and time, and neither of them seemed to want to move.
“Dawn,” he whispered, his voice tight.
She was well aware that she was plastered up against his body, chest to chest, hips to hips, thighs to thighs. “Hold me just a little longer, Cade.”
He tightened his grip on her, and she relaxed against him. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of this little slipup. She didn’t want to have to explain what she was doing. She only wanted to feel sheltered and secure, and Cade was providing that.
It was beautiful up here, the air fresh, the peaceful solitude of the moment calming her. But then, things began to change. She felt the pounding of Cade’s heart, the tightening of his body. The calm that she felt disappeared, and suddenly her body reacted in kind, heat swarming her, sensations of desire gripping her. She didn’t mean to do this to Cade, to herself, but now that it was happening, she couldn’t find the means to stop it.
And so, when Cade put a finger under her chin and she lifted her eyes to his, she found hunger and want reflected back at her. “Cade,” she whispered.
“I’m gonna kiss you, Dawn. Fair warning.”
And when she didn’t protest, didn’t back away, he tenderly cupped the sides of her face and brought his mouth down on hers. It was a beautiful, soul-searching kiss, his lips firm yet gentle. A deep moan rose from her throat. Her body tingled, and everything female about her stood at attention. Cade kissed her and kissed her, and in the kiss she felt him casting aside those months of grief and solitude while she was forgetting about her own demons, at least for the moment.
“This is crazy,” she said softly between kisses. “We barely know each other.”
Cade didn’t disagree or try to explain their actions. “I know,” he whispered.
And then they heard voices; a group of hikers were coming up the path. Both of them backed off at the same time, and they stared at each other. There was regret in Cade’s eyes, in his expression, but silly her, she couldn’t figure out if it was because he was sorry the kiss had happened or he was regretting the interruption.
Either way, Harper wouldn’t want to change a thing. She’d needed the comfort Cade had given her, and she’d needed his kisses, too.
“Hey, folks,” one of the male hikers said, coming up the incline. “Is this the right place? Is this Manta de Flores Silvestres?”
“This is the place,” Cade answered.
“Thanks,” the man said, waving on his group. “It’s up here, guys.”
Cade picked up his backpack and took Harper’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, don’t let us chase you away,” the hiker said.
“It’s okay, we’re done here,” Cade answered.
He led her away from the wildflowers and then stopped when they reached a tall Ashe juniper tree, the thick grass underneath lush and green. “Let’s sit.”
She didn’t argue. She had no idea what was going on in his head.
“Okay.”
Both of them sat down on the grass. He removed his backpack and took out a small, thin cloth to serve as a tablecloth. She helped by taking out the sandwiches she’d prepared: turkey and bacon on Italian bread with an aioli dressing, accompanied by homemade potato chips. There was bottled water in the pack, and she handed him one. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
He shook his head and unscrewed the cap, looking away from her. Then he finally asked, “What was that about back there?” Then as if he realized it was a bit presumptive to put all the blame on her, he added, “I didn’t see any of that coming, did you?”
“No.” Although she was extremely attracted to him. “I didn’t see it coming, either. But just know, I’ve had a rough few months lately. I don’t like talking about it, but my last breakup was bad and I was deeply hurt.” She shrugged. “I guess I needed some comfort, and having you hold me made me feel safe for the first time in a long time. But I didn’t mean to start—”
“You’re not to blame, Dawn. I didn’t mean to imply that. It just came out of left field. I haven’t so much as touched a woman, much less kissed one, since Bree died. I guess I needed the comfort, too.”
But there’d been desire, too. She’d felt it. It was hard not to notice his body tightening, hardening, reacting to hers. If those hikers hadn’t interrupted, who knew where it might have led. Yet if they both refused to acknowledge it, then maybe they could go on as intended. Pretending that they didn’t have a physical attraction to each other.
Only now, Harper knew for certain that Cade wasn’t going to be an easy man to ignore. He was terribly appealing and boy, did he know how to kiss.
* * *
If a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, then Cade was in trouble, because Dawn’s meals were delicious, and his waning appetite was gradually coming back. Maybe his mother had been onto something when she’d hired Dawn to cook for him. But that was all Dawn was to him, his chef. Period.
He finis
hed his sandwich, both of them eating quietly, deep in their own thoughts. It was now weird between them after that prolonged embrace and the kisses that shocked his system and stirred his body. Once he’d started kissing her, he couldn’t seem to stop. What had started out as innocent had changed into something more serious, a hunger that he didn’t know existed within him. A light had turned on, and as long as he could shut it off, all would work out. But could he do that? Could he forget about the way her body felt pressed to his, the soft, exciting crush of her breasts to his chest, the sweet smell of her hair, the delicious taste of her lips? Those few minutes had been heaven, an awakening that went beyond his Daisy Duke fantasy.
Both of them had been hurt, injured in a way that made them wary and cautious, and it wouldn’t be fair of him to pursue her. It wouldn’t lead anywhere, and he didn’t want to add to her obvious pain. He surely didn’t want to add to his.
He balled up the foil his sandwich had been in and looked at Dawn. She had barely touched her sandwich. “Do you want to finish the hike?” he asked. “Or go back?”
Her eyes downcast, she gathered up the remnants of lunch and quietly said, “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
He held back the urge to sigh at her indifference. “I’m up for finishing our hike. Are you?”
Finally, she looked at him. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Okay, then.” He helped her repack his backpack, and they moved on. But there was no more small talk, no more easy teasing between them. For Cade, it was life as he knew it. He should be glad of it, going back to his sullen ways. Only, he wasn’t. For a few minutes back there, he’d felt more alive than he had in eighteen long months.
An hour later, they were back at the cabin. “Thanks, that was a good hike,” he told Dawn. “We must’ve gone at least four miles.”
“Yeah, it really was,” she said as he opened the door for her. This time she didn’t berate him or give him an eye roll. No, she simply walked through the opened door and headed for her room.
“Dawn? Are you okay?”
She turned to him. “I’m fine. Just have some work to catch up on.”
“All right. I guess I’ll see you at dinner later.”
“Yes, you will. How do you feel about fish?”
“I love all kinds.”
She nodded. “Good to know.” She turned and disappeared into her room.
Cade ran a hand down his face. He wasn’t looking forward to being alone the rest of the afternoon. What he really wanted was company, preferably Dawn’s company. He felt lighter when she was around, less burdened. And he hoped he didn’t blow it with her. He’d offered her casual friendship and wondered if they could still attain that.
He climbed the stairs slowly and went into his bedroom. Taking out his cell, he called his mother, but it went straight to voice mail. “Hi, Mom. Just checking in on you. Wondering about the progress of the Able Brothers merger. Call me when you have a minute.”
Next, he called his sister, Lily. Funny, but that call also went to voice mail. He left a short message on her phone, too. Gage was impossible to get a hold of, and his best friend, Rory, was out of the country right now.
After showering and getting dressed, he walked over to the window to take in the view, and his eyes drifted downward to the yard below. “Holy crap!”
What was that woman doing? He raced out of his room, taking the stairs quickly, and dashed out the back double doors, reaching Dawn before she took her first swing of the ax. “Hang on a second,” he called to her.
The ax firmly in her grip, she lowered her shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m chopping wood.”
“Not like that you’re not.”
“Why not? Don’t you think I can do it?”
“I thought you had work to do.”
“I do. I did. I couldn’t concentrate.”
He cursed under his breath. “It’s because of what happened before, between us, right?”
She averted her pretty blue eyes, gazing out on the lake. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Do you want me to apologize?”
“No. That’s not necessary.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m just as much to blame.” Judging from her expression, she really believed that.
“You were antsy so you came out here to chop wood?”
“I wasn’t antsy, for heaven’s sake.”
“Restless? Bothered?”
She did her adorable eye roll, and he tried his hardest to keep a straight face. Otherwise she’d be swinging that ax at him. “Cade, don’t you have something to do inside the house?”
“I do have something to do, right here. To keep you from injuring yourself.”
“I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Dawn, you’re not wearing eye protection. That’s your first mistake. A splinter can fly up and take your eye out just as easily as I’m standing here.”
He walked over to the shed and grabbed a pair of safety glasses. “Here, put these on.”
She took them grudgingly. “Okay, I would’ve remembered that on my own.”
“Before or after you took your first swing?”
“Am I getting a lecture?”
“Do you want to keep all your limbs? Because you’re standing all wrong. One miss and there goes your leg.” He touched his hand to her leg, just above her knee to make his point, but the contact had him momentarily speechless. Soft skin, firm thighs. From that single touch, his body tensed up, and he was reminded of how good her kisses were, how good she’d felt pressed up against him.
He cleared his throat and backed up a step. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I am the one holding the ax, remember?”
Cade shook his head. “Okay, fine.” He took hold of her shoulders and positioned her, making sure all body parts were out of harm’s way when she brought the ax down. “Okay, now, stay focused. Keep your eye on the center of the log—that’s where you want to hit. And you have to keep the head of the ax straight to make the cut worthwhile. Ready?”
She nodded. He stood directly behind her, holding the handle along with her. “I’ll help you raise it. All you have to do is come down straight.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He had one hand on her shoulder, holding her taut, while his other hand helped guide the ax up. “Ready, now.”
The ax came down in the center of the wood, only splitting the log partway.
She turned to him, her face inches from his, and their eyes met. He breathed in her scent, something akin to sweet vanilla. He swallowed, feeling the full force of her gaze. “How was that?” she asked. “It didn’t go all the way through.”
Something bubbled up inside him. Her raw determination mingled with her nearness rattled his nerves. She wasn’t a wilting violet, that was for sure. She was a woman who enjoyed the outdoors, someone who liked a good challenge. She was also extremely appealing in this setting. And he was beginning to like her a bit too much. Which wasn’t a good thing.
“That was a good try,” he told her, helping her yank the ax from the wood. “You needed a little more power to finish the job. Now, just do it again. You don’t have far to go and you’ll finish the log off.”
“By myself?” she asked.
“Unless you want my help?” He pretty much knew the answer to that.
“No, no. I can do this.”
This time, Cade stood back and let her take the swing on her own.
She followed all of his earlier suggestions and aced it, the two halves of the log falling to the ground. She turned to him, took off her safety glasses and grinned. “I did it.”
Her joy was contagious, and he smiled along with her. “Yes, you did. Though I wouldn’t call you a lumberjack just yet.”
Sh
e didn’t take offense; instead her expression softened. “Thanks for your help. I guess I needed the instruction.”
He didn’t gloat. Well, not outwardly. “Any time, Dawn. Just promise me that you won’t come out here to chop wood without telling me.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’s for my sanity, okay?” He realized he was beginning to care about her, more than he’d cared for a woman since Bree. “You’re still a novice.”
“All right. But since you’re out here now, how about I do another?”
“Another?” He rubbed his chin, feeling the rough stubble there. “I thought we’d go in and have dinner. I’m getting hungry.” It was a ruthless lie, but one he knew would work. If Dawn was anything, she was dedicated to her profession.
“Oh, right. Sure.” She put the ax down. “I’ll get right on it.”
“You go on in, and I’ll clean up here.”
“You sure?” she asked.
He patted his stomach. “I’m absolutely sure.”
* * *
Dawn was happy with the way her whitefish tacos turned out. She’d used cod, eight cloves of garlic and half a dozen herbs to give the fish added flavor. She’d shredded cabbage and made a light salsa for the dish. Rice pilaf and fresh cherry tomatoes complemented the dish. Cade had eaten three tacos, raving about the meal, and when they were through eating, he’d lent a hand in the cleanup.
After he left the kitchen, she put on a pot of coffee and waited while it brewed. She’d wanted to bake some sort of dessert, but between the hike, the wood chopping and being totally distracted by Cade and the way he’d kissed her today, she’d run out of time.
So she dug into the pantry, coming up with a box of shortbread cookies. They were perfect to dunk into coffee. She arranged a little tray of them, setting them on the table. Once the coffee was ready, she went in search of Cade. She found him in the main room, sitting on the sofa, a fire blazing in the fireplace. He was shuffling cards and barely noticed her walking in.
The sun was just setting, and there was a briskness in the air. The fire sure looked inviting. “Cade, coffee’s ready. Want me to bring it in here?”
Craving a Real Texan--A Western romance Page 5