Flirting with Love

by Melissa Foster

  “I’m not coming home, Mom. We talked about this. I want to make a go of it.” She pulled the cupcakes out of the oven and set them aside to cool.

  “Oh, I know, sweetie, but you know I have to ask. I miss having you in the same city.”

  She pictured her mother sitting in a pedicure chair, her Botoxed forehead as clear and smooth as Elisabeth’s. Elisabeth breathed a little easier being away from that pressure. She glanced down at her cutoff shorts and the work boots she’d picked up last week at Target. Her mother would keel over if she knew Elisabeth had shopped at Target, but Elisabeth had enjoyed it. There weren’t any click, click, clicks of stilettos on marble, and women were holding their children’s hands instead of cell phones. Trusty was exactly what she remembered from her summer visits. Well, everything except Ross. He was the best surprise.

  “I know, Mom. Guess what I did this morning?” She smiled, knowing her mother was rolling her eyes to go with her sigh. “Oh, Mom. It’s not that bad. I fed my baby piglet, Kennedy, with a bottle. Isn’t that a hoot?”

  “A hoot? You sound like you’re from that dinky town. Oh, honey, I hope you know I only kept you here in LA for your own good and that you don’t forget all of the cultured things you learned about the world.”

  Her mother had told her that often, and Elisabeth still didn’t know what to make of it. Cultured? She’d learned how to schmooze, live life on a hamster wheel, and that men treated women like trains—ride one after another and never look back.

  She breathed deeply. Don’t get caught up in her world. Let it go. She exhaled a long, calming breath, then drew her shoulders back and set her eyes on the boots she had quickly come to love with a smile.

  “I know, Mom.”

  “Are there even any good-looking men in Trusty, Colorado? The name itself has me conjuring up overalls and beer bellies.” Before Elisabeth could answer, her mother said, “Oh, sweetie, I have to run. They’re ready to do my nails. Love you.” She blew two kisses into the phone and ended the call.

  A minute later her phone vibrated with another text from Ross. BTW, careful saying you owe a guy big-time. We guys love big times.

  There were good-looking men in Trusty, and one of them was thinking about her right now. She wasn’t missing a darn thing.

  Chapter Five

  MID-MONDAY MORNING, donning a pretty summer dress and heels, with a TRUSTY PIES cooler and a stomach full of butterflies, Elisabeth went to deliver her first pie order. Aunt Cora had a list of standing orders, and Elisabeth was determined not to lose a single customer. They’d been gracious enough to give her a few weeks to unpack and get settled, and she hoped they wouldn’t be disappointed.

  Margie Holmes at Trusty Diner was first on her list. Elisabeth had already learned that the diner was the hub of Trusty. Everyone and their brother ate there. She’d gone in for coffee a few times, and she knew who Margie was—she also knew that Margie was quite inquisitive, as she’d asked her a million questions the first time she’d gone in.

  The diner smelled like eggs, bacon, and coffee. Every table and booth was taken, and two waitresses called out orders and hustled to deliver them. Elisabeth stood by the register and waited. The waitresses wore pink uniforms with white aprons, with their names embroidered above their left breasts. She spotted Margie filling up a coffee mug and chatting with an old man. She had a friendly smile that didn’t falter as she set the mug on the counter in front of him, then filled two more. A bell rang and the word “up” sailed into the air from a pass-through in the wall that Elisabeth could see led to the kitchen. Margie grabbed the plates, checked them against her order sheet, and smiled through the pickup window.

  “Thanks, Sam.” She delivered the coffee and food to a table in the corner and was back in an instant. Margie did a quick once-over of Elisabeth’s outfit. Her lips curved up in a way that could mean she thought Elisabeth looked pretty—or completely out of place.

  Elisabeth felt a little queasy.

  “Hi there, sugar,” Margie said. “You looking for a seat? Gonna be a few minutes.”

  “No, actually, I’m Elisabeth Nash from Trusty Pies. I have a pie order for you.” How could Margie not recognize her? Everyone else in this town seemed to know exactly who she was.

  A couple at a nearby table looked her over as Margie had and gave her one of those stink-eye looks that made her skin crawl. She held her head up high, remembering Ross’s words. To people around here, you’re a stranger, because you didn’t grow up here. They’ll come around. As much as it stung, he was right. They didn’t know her. She took a deep breath and smiled at the couple. All she needed was time for them to get to know her and they’d come around.

  She hoped.

  Margie’s eyes dropped to the cooler by her feet. “I’m sorry. I know who you are, but I missed the cooler.” She leaned in close. “Don’t let anyone know it got by me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Eagle eyes and elephant ears.” She winked and nodded to the door to the kitchen. “Take it right back there, sugar. Sam’ll get you all set up.”

  “Pies coming back,” Margie called into the kitchen.

  The kitchen smelled like a morning buffet: eggs, buttery toast, bacon, sausage, and pan-fried potatoes. Elisabeth had been so busy baking—and thinking of Ross—that she had totally forgotten to eat breakfast.

  “Set ’em on the racks.” Sam was a balding, big-bellied man with jowls that jiggled when he turned and beady eyes that weren’t smiling.

  Elisabeth set the pies on the rack. “I added an extra pie. Raspberry apricot. I thought you might want to try it.”

  Sam grunted something inaudible.

  “It smells so good in here. You must be an amazing cook.” She smiled at him, but he never looked up to see it. He grumbled again, and Elisabeth took that as her cue to leave.

  The rest of the deliveries didn’t go any better. She’d had four stops, each of which began with a once-over and ended with a grunt or something just as reluctant. She drove down to Wynchels’ Farm to end her errands on a nicer note and clear her mind from the unpleasant interactions. She needed more goat milk for Kennedy. She’d bought some at the store in town, but she preferred fresh. And the idea of a farmers’ market conjured up images of smiling farmers and colorful fruits and vegetables. She smiled at the thought, feeling hopeful for a happier end to her afternoon.

  The driveway to Wynchels’ Farm was buffered on both sides by trees and wound through acres of orchards before finally ending at a gravel parking lot. Elisabeth parked in the lot and two big dogs ambled over. She loved them up, noting their tangled fur, then followed hand-painted wooden signs that read, STORE IN BARN. The barn was enormous, built of weathered wood, and inside, it smelled of a mixture of fruit and hay. Elisabeth stood in the doorway and inhaled deeply as she drank it all in. She’d always imagined buying fresh fruits and vegetables from a place like this, with row after row of tables topped with baskets of produce, freshly picked, and actually on a farm rather than a farm stand in the middle of a city block. The wall to her left was lined with freezers and glass-front refrigerators, filled top to bottom with fresh bottles of milk, freshly made butter, freshly laid eggs, and homemade jams. A few feet in front of her was a large counter with scales, two cash registers—the old-fashioned type with heavy metal drawers and a pull-down lever on the side. Behind the counter stood a thick-waisted woman wearing overalls. Her straight gray hair was cut just below her ears, and her fingers flew over the register as she moved items from the scale to the other side of the counter.

  Elisabeth spent twenty minutes filling a basket with goat’s milk, butter, fruits, and vegetables, and by the time she was done, the woman behind the counter had finished helping customers and was busy shucking corn.

  “You’re Cora’s niece,” the woman said as her eyes slid down Elisabeth’s dress, landing—and remaining—on her heels.

  Maybe I should stick to my cutoffs and boots. “Yes, ma’am. Elisabeth.”

  “Elizabeth, I’m Wren.”

/>   “That’s a beautiful name. Actually, mine’s E-lis-abeth.” She hadn’t had this issue in Los Angeles. Everyone had funky names.

  Wren arched a brow, but didn’t comment.

  Okay, that was it. Elizabeth it was. She didn’t need to further alienate herself from the community over a letter. She shrugged off the mounting frustration from a day of being looked at like she was an alien and forced a smile.

  “I love your setup. Would you ever consider selling some of my fresh fruit pies if I used your fruits?” The idea had just come to her, along with a whisper of hope.

  “We don’t sell pies.” Wren’s eyes never left the register as she rang up Elisabeth’s purchases.

  So much for that idea. “It was just a thought. What hours is the store open?” she asked as she gathered her bags. She picked up a flyer about the county fair from a stack on the counter and stuck one in a bag.

  “Honey, this is Trusty, a ranch town. What hours aren’t we open?” She harrumphed, with a shake of her head and a mocking smile as she turned back to the corn she was shucking.

  Another big, fluffy dog walked lazily into the barn. Elisabeth’s heart squeezed. This was her lucky day. She’d found a place to buy fresh dairy, fruits, and vegetables and got to put her hands on a few cute pups. It had been hard not to go crazy over Storm, but she hadn’t wanted Ross to think she was more interested in his puppy than in caring for her piglets.

  “May I pet your dog?”

  “Be my guest.”

  She felt Wren’s eyes on her as she set the bags back down and crouched to love up the dog. His fur was so thickly matted that she couldn’t bury her fingers beneath it. “What’s his name?”

  “Barney.”

  Elisabeth kissed Barney’s nose. “Hi, Barney. You’re so handsome. I bet you love it here with all this room to roam.”

  Wren smiled, and it softened the scowl that had drawn her graying brows together. “He likes to chase the rabbits and get all mucked up, that’s for sure.”

  “Do you brush him?” Elisabeth turned her face so Barney could lick her cheek.

  Wren’s silence drew Elisabeth’s eyes. The scowl was back in place. Oh no. “I didn’t mean that like it probably sounded. I groom dogs.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for business, it’s a waste around here. He’ll just look like this again ten minutes after you’re done.”

  Elisabeth refrained from going into a speech about how it was bad for the dog’s skin and his fur to remain matted.

  “I can only imagine. How many dogs do you have?” She’d counted three.

  “Six. Didn’t have the heart to give the litter away.” Wren shook her head again, this time at herself, Elisabeth imagined.

  She rose and gathered her bags, formulating an idea on the fly. “Thank you for everything.”

  Elisabeth skipped going to Ross’s to deliver the thank-you cupcakes. She didn’t need one more person to look at her like she didn’t belong. Granted, both Ross and Kelsey hadn’t looked at her like that, but she didn’t want to chance it. Even though Ross had looked at her like he wanted to kiss her when he left the other night, she knew how fickle men could be. Wanting a woman one minute and then changing their mind the next. Maybe sneaky was a better word. Maybe men know exactly what they were doing from square one.

  She laughed at herself. Ross didn’t seem sneaky at all. A man with a sensual edge? Definitely. Hot, sexy, interested? So damn interested the air between them nearly caught fire when he was around. She pushed thoughts of him aside and set to work making flyers for her idea. If she was going to make a go of her pet bakery and spa, she needed to get the word out. Surely everyone didn’t believe that dog grooming was a waste of time.

  ROSS WAS CLOSING up shop when his phone vibrated with a message from his sister.

  Mom and I are having dinner at her house. Join us?

  He glanced out in the yard at Sarge and Ranger. Knight was standing by his feet, his favorite place. He’d planned on going for a run and taking Knight with him, but that had been a farce. Sure, he wanted a run, but what he really wanted was to run by Elisabeth’s house on the pretense of checking on the piglets again. Lame, he knew, but hell. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all day. She’d mentioned talking with Emily, and he wouldn’t mind pumping his little sister for some information.

  He texted her back—Sure. Be there in twenty minutes—then went to answer a knock at the front door. Elisabeth stood on the porch with a basket in one hand and a smile that made his stomach do some funky flips.

  Ross couldn’t help but roll his eyes down the sexy little sundress that accentuated her curves and stopped midthigh. She had on heels that made her legs look a mile long and brought her almost eye to eye with Ross.

  “No piglet today?” Holy Christ, you look hot.

  Knight pushed past Ross and sniffed at the basket.

  She knelt to pet him. “Not today. I brought goodies for your pooches as a thank-you for taking care of Kennedy and checking on his littermates. And for helping with Dolly. And the fence. And for the coffee.” She sighed and smiled again. “Thanks for being there for just about everything, Ross.”

  He laughed as he stepped outside and slid his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. He liked her in those heels, her lips so close to his. “Well, that’s really nice of you, but you already shared your wine with me.”

  “I know.” She rose to her full height, and when her hand grazed her dress, some of Knight’s fur remained on the fabric.

  “Sorry about his shedding.” He brushed the fur from her hip.

  “Dog fur doesn’t bother me.” She glanced at his hand, still brushing her hip.

  Oops.

  Elisabeth held the basket toward him.

  “These are pupcakes for your dogs.”

  “Pupcakes?” He wrinkled his brow as he took the basket from her. “My boys don’t need sugar in their diet.”

  She thrust out a hip. “No dog does, silly. No sugar or unhealthy fats. I use a touch of honey for sweetener, and it has all-natural ingredients like cooked chicken and cornmeal. Trust me, you could eat these, but I don’t suggest it. They’re frosted with mashed potatoes and decorated with carrots.”

  “Mashed potatoes and carrots?” His dogs would love that, even if they didn’t need it.

  “Yeah, see?” She withdrew a small box from the basket and removed a pupcake, complete with swirled icing and tiny flecks of orange. She held it in her palm, and Knight wagged his tail and craned his neck to sniff it.

  “Settle.”

  Knight sat beside him.

  “That was really sweet of you, but you didn’t need to go to the trouble.” He eyed Knight. “You can give it to him if you’d like.”

  She knelt with another smile that lit up her eyes, and it shattered any chance he had at remaining unaffected. He was trying his best to ignore the fact that she smelled like heaven again, and something sweeter, which could have just been her in general.

  Elisabeth popped back up again and reached into the basket. “I have to admit, I’m not completely unselfish.” She waved a flyer in front of him. “I was wondering if you’d put these on your counter for your clients.”

  He tucked the basket under his arm and read the flyer. “Trusty Pet Bakery and Spa?”

  “Yes.” She bounced on her toes a little, and it made him smile. “I’m still coming up with a name. I’m thinking about something that I can combine with the pie business, like Trusty Pies & Pet Pampering, but first I need to see if I can get this business up and running or not. This name cuts to the chase, so I’ll know pretty quickly if it’s an epic fail or not.” Her tone grew serious. “You’re the only vet in town, so I was hoping you’d share my flyers with your clients. I’m also going to hang out at the dog park and visit a few stores tomorrow to spread the word.”

  Ross sat on the front porch step and patted the space beside him. As she sat down, her hair fell over one shoulder, and a few strands clung to he
r cheek. He reached up and moved them away with his index finger, causing her to blush like she had last night. If she was a woman who was here to take what she could from Cora’s estate and skip town, she was sure going to great lengths to pretend not to be.

  “I’m happy to share the flyers, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree trying to get this type of business off the ground here. You know there’s a dog groomer in Allure, right? That’s not too far from here.”

  “Yeah, sure. But do you drive to the next town to get your dogs groomed?”

  Ross put an arm around Knight’s thick neck. “I brush my boys. I like it, actually. It’s great bonding time, and I can see firsthand if they have any cuts or issues from playing in the fields.”

  She thrust her palms out. “See? If only everyone could be like you. I was at Wynchels’ Farm this morning—thank you, by the way. I loved the whole setup there. They have six dogs. Did you know that?”

  “Sure. I take care of them.”

  “Of course you do. Sorry.” She smiled again. “Anyway, Barney, this big lovable mutt, had matted fur and the others were caked with mud. Wren said that grooming was a waste of time. A waste of time, like the dogs aren’t worth the twenty minutes it takes to give them even a quick brushing. I would like to know how she’d feel if she wasn’t able to brush her hair. Ever.”

  Knight settled his head between his paws and stretched his nose between them.

  “I hate to tell you this, but that’s probably going to be the majority of what you’re met with. These are farmers and ranchers. Their issues revolve around putting food on the table and making sure the livestock is fed and cared for. They don’t have a lot of extra money for pet pampering and doggy cupcakes.”