Dammit. Was he going to do this? Had she actually set this conversation in motion? Oh God.
No. Wait one minute. She was not about to blame herself for talking about reality. The truth. If he wanted to revert back to the guy who hid from life—and love—well, that wasn’t her fault.
It just happened to hurt like hell.
Crud.
Had she really thought her night with Xander was going somewhere? That he’d suddenly be over his past and trust in the world again?
Yes, she had thought so.
Maybe because she was as young and experienced at life as he’d said she was.
“I thought there was more between us,” she said. “Was I wrong?”
He held her gaze for a second, then turned away, his attention out the window. “You weren’t wrong, Lily. But I guess this conversation just brought up all the reminders that—”
He stopped and sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair.
“Reminders that...?” she prompted.
“That I’m jaded and bitter. And you’re young and hopeful and idealistic and have your whole beautiful life ahead of you.”
“That’s total bunk, Xander Crawford. You’re just scared spitless that you feel more for me than you intended. And so you’re pushing me away.”
“Lily—”
But again, he stopped talking.
“When you find someone truly special, you don’t let them go, Xander. Do you realize how rare it is?”
“Is it?” he asked.
“Oh, so I’m just a dime a dozen?” She glared at him, grateful the anger was edging out the hurt. No, wait. There the hurt was. Punching back for control.
At least the anger was keeping her from crying. That she’d do in private.
“This wasn’t how I envisioned the morning going,” he said, standing up. “Not at all. I thought we’d make love three more times, then I’d sneak you into the shower with me, and then whisk you off to the Gold Rush for scrambled eggs and home fries and bacon and a lot of coffee and then we’d go back to my place for a repeat. That’s what I thought this morning would be.”
Now she did feel like crying. “I wanted that morning, too, Xander. I still want it.”
“But you want a lot more than that, don’t you?” he said gently.
“Hell yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Lily. I messed up by kissing you in the first place because I just couldn’t resist you. And now I’ve made this huge mess of things. I’m very sorry.”
“You’re sorry for sleeping with me?” she said, her voice sounding more like a screech. This time, the anger had knocked out the hurt with a solid left jab. “How dare you!”
“Lily, no, I—”
“I need a ride home. And I’d like that ride to be silent.”
He let out a harsh sigh and headed for the door.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.
Lily raced down the stairs, dimly aware of laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen. She could hear a couple of voices. She had to get out of there before anyone saw her—especially now that this really was just another notch on Xander’s bedpost.
She tried hard to keep the tears from falling, but down they came. Lily flung open the door and ran out, zooming for Xander’s truck. She got in, wiping away her tears. Take a deep breath. Do. Not. Let. Him. See. You. Cry.
By the time he got in the driver’s seat, she was composed.
Do not think about last night. How you kissed at the dance. How you two drove to the Ambling A with all those feelings, romance in the air, love in the air, all your hopes coming true...
She wanted to blame it on herself for falling for Xander when he told her by his actions alone on their first date that he was going to smash her heart to smithereens.
She wanted to blame it on that blasted Wilder Crawford—and her unfortunate timing of running into him—for telling her stuff she had no business knowing. Or wanting to know.
But the blame for her feeling like she’d just been kicked and Xander’s probably feeling like hell? That was on Xander himself—and his stubbornness.
But as he started the truck and pulled out, something occurred to Lily. Something the old Lily would have thought of immediately. The new Lily had too much confidence, though, so the news flash hadn’t seeped into her consciousness until now.
Maybe it had nothing to do with Xander living in the past and being stubborn.
Maybe he just didn’t love her back.
Chapter Eleven
Xander pulled up in front of Lily’s house, Dobby and Harry sitting outside on the porch, Harry on his back on the mat, taking in the brilliant sunshine of late August. Xander wanted to run up and rub that furry little belly, feel Harry’s soft-as-silk floppy ears, talk to her dad, ask her brothers how things were going at the auto mechanic business, where they’d fixed his brother Finn’s brake issue the other day. He even wanted to hang out with Andrew and hear how things were with Heidi. Xander’s first fix-up.
At least he brought love to someone. Two someones.
Please don’t rush out of the truck until I get to say something, he thought, but couldn’t make himself speak the words. He didn’t know what he wanted to say.
I’m sorry didn’t cut it. There was so much more to say but he couldn’t put words to it.
He turned off the ignition and turned to face her. “Lily.”
But nothing else came out of his mouth.
She waited. She tilted her head. Waited some more. Then she said, “Everything between us led to last night, Xander. And last night was something beautiful. Personally, I think you’re crazy for turning your back on it. But if that’s your choice, I guess I have to respect that.” She cleared her throat and reached for the door.
“Last night was beautiful,” he said.
“And?” she prompted.
“And...maybe it’s better we cool it now rather than someone gets run over by a Mack truck down the road.”
“You’re the only one driving that truck, Xander,” she said—between gritted teeth. Then she got out of the car and stalked to the door in her pink dress, the dogs jumping up to greet her.
He watched her pet both of them and bury her face in their fur, then hurry inside, the dogs behind her.
The door closed and he felt so bereft.
He felt something for her, that was not in doubt.
He started the truck and drove toward the Ambling A. A hard day’s work would help set his mind at ease by taking his brain off Lily completely. But by the time he got to the ranch, his mind was a jumble. Memories of last night, of what it was like to make love to Lily, to be one with her, how complete he’d felt, kept jabbing at him.
He didn’t want to feel complete, though. That was the damn problem. He’d felt complete in Dallas with Britney to the point that he was going to propose.
And wham. Knocked upside the head and left for dead.
A little dramatic, but that was how it felt.
He needed a walk, and the now overcast morning suited his mood. He’d survey the miles of fence line out past the barn, see if any part of it needed repair. He wrapped a tool kit around his hips, then headed out on foot to the fence, a good mile away. As he neared it, he could see his brother Knox with his tools, working on a long gap in the wiring.
“Guess we had the same idea for this morning,” Xander said.
Knox glanced up. “Glad you’re here. I could use a hand.” Knox used a tool to stretch the wire, and Xander wrapped the wire around and around the next section to secure it. “I was riding fence when I noticed it.” He glanced for Xander’s horse. “You walked all the way out here?”
“A lot on my mind,” Xander said.
“Yeah, ditto. But after working so hard there’s no way I’d want to hoof it back, so I brought
the trusty steed.” He nodded up at the beautiful brown mare.
“Still mad at me for dancing with your chef?” Knox asked. But Xander could tell his brother wasn’t kidding.
“Yes, actually. Dammit.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Not dammit that you danced with her. Dammit that she is ‘my chef’ and I’m screwing it up. I really care about Lily. I more than care about her. I just don’t want to. If that makes any sense.”
“Unfortunately, it does. All part of our legacy.”
Their legacy. The six of them rarely talked about their upbringing, and he figured that was what Knox was referring to.
“With our family past, who the hell wouldn’t be wary of love and marriage and all that stuff?” Knox asked, not looking up.
Xander didn’t know all that much about their mother, but she’d been considerably younger than their father, jumping into the marriage not long after they’d started dating. And he knew that Sheila Crawford had left Max and their six young children for another man—and never looked back.
If his mother had been able to do that, anyone could. Britney sure had.
So why wouldn’t Lily? When she had her whole life ahead of her at just twenty-three?
She was probably right when she’d said, in so many words, that the past was running his life, that it had too tight a grip on him. But right now, that grip was stronger than hers.
“You’ll figure it out,” Knox said, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Meaning?”
Knox tightened the final piece of wire. “Either Lily will win out or the family legacy will. Logan got lucky. Maybe you will, too.”
Huh. He hadn’t really thought of it that way before. But he knew luck had nothing to do with Logan settling down with Sarah and baby Sophia. Love had won out.
For some crazy reason, he felt a little better than he had when he’d first walked out here. Maybe because he forgot that love could win.
* * *
Lily was glad she’d had to work today. One of today’s specials was the Aegean pizza she’d introduced to the menu, an immediate hit, and she’d made at least thirty of them since the Manor had opened for lunch. She had her eye on the six in her oven as she sliced chicken and chopped garlic and green peppers for the next batch, trying to not pop all the delicious feta cheese in her mouth before she ran out. Her waiters had reported on where her diners were from, but she couldn’t exactly add barbecue sauce or cayenne pepper or roasted chestnut shavings to the Aegean pizza without ruining it, so she kept her special additions to the other entrées. She’d made several big pots of minestrone soup, adding a bit of this and that to it to bring her diners a bit of home. Five tables had ordered servings of the soup to go, so that had brought a smile.
And she wasn’t feeling much like smiling today.
When she left for the day and arrived home, she didn’t even bother going upstairs to relax or take a bath to soothe her weary muscles and mind. She hit the kitchen. She had a few clients around town who loved her cooking at the Manor and hired her to make special-occasion meals or texted her that they were ill and could she drop off what they were craving. This evening, she was making split pea soup with carrots and tiny bits of ham for Monty Parster, her seventy-five-year-old widowed client who had a cold. Monty was usually robust and volunteered in the library, putting away books that had been returned, and Lily adored him. She’d make him a pot of his favorite feel-better soup on the house.
“And this is the living room,” she heard her dad suddenly say, along with two sets of footsteps. One with a definite heel.
“Why do I smell something amazing?” a woman’s voice asked.
Oooh, did her dad have a date over?
“That must be my daughter, Lily. She’s a chef at the Maverick Manor. Best cook in the county, maybe even the state. Or the country!”
“Well, whatever she’s making certainly smells like it,” the woman said.
Lily liked her already.
“Lil?” Peter Hunt asked as he poked his head inside the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad,” she said with a smile, stirring the pea soup as it simmered. It did smell good.
He pushed open the door, and behind him was an attractive woman around his age with shoulder-length dark hair and warm hazel eyes. “Lil, this Charlotte McKown. We met at the dance last night.”
Lily extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. The dance was wonderful. I must have eaten ten of those little ham-and-cheese quiches.”
“Me, too,” Charlotte said. “And a little too many of the mini raspberry cheesecakes.”
Lily laughed. “Yup, same here.”
As her dad escorted Charlotte to the powder room so she could freshen up before their dinner at the Manor, Lily gave the soup a taste and declared it done and perfect. She shut off the burner just as her dad came back into the kitchen, a big smile on his face.
“Our first date was breakfast at the Gold Rush Diner,” he whispered. “We were so full of French toast and pancakes and bacon that we skipped lunch.”
“So this is an all-day date?” Lily asked with a grin. “Dad, I’m thrilled.”
“We have a lot to talk about. She’s widowed, too. And has four grown kids just like me. She takes Pilates and does yoga and volunteers in the clinic. She’s a great person.”
“Sure sounds like it,” Lily said.
They could hear the powder room door opening, so her dad kissed her on the cheek and dashed out.
Lily laughed. Her dad sure seemed to be falling in love.
Next would be Ryan and Bobby. They’d probably each met someone at the dance, too.
Oh well, she thought. At least most of the Hunts were happy. She carefully poured the soup into a big container, put a lid on it, grabbed some crackers and sourdough bread and then headed out to her car.
A few minutes later, she was in Mr. Parster’s little Cape Cod–style house. He sat in a recliner with a crocheted throw over him, a box of tissues beside him. Lily prepared a tray with the soup, which was still piping hot, and the crackers and bread, and a glass of lemon water, and brought it out to him, placing it on a table that wheeled right over his lap.
“Ah, my favorite split pea,” he said. “Did I ever tell you that you make it just like my wife did?”
She smiled. “You gave me her recipe. It’s my favorite version, too. I make it for the Manor, too, and it’s always a hit.”
He took a spoonful. “Ahhh,” he said. “So good. And trust me, it’s you, not the recipe. My second-oldest daughter made this for me the last time I was sick, and I tell you, it was terrible! Something was just missing. Not that I told her that!”
Lily smiled. She adored Mr. Parster.
He took another spoonful, then nibbled on a piece of the sourdough bread, which Lily had made herself as well yesterday. “I’m sure that hoity-toity Maverick Manor pays you a fortune, but you could be making a killing by going into business for yourself as a personal chef. I’d hire you to make every meal for me. Good thing I actually like to cook myself or I’d go bankrupt. Oh, speaking of, will you be teaching another cooking class for seniors? I’m interested in Asian cooking.”
“Wait,” she said. “You think I could make a living as a personal chef? Here in Rust Creek Falls?”
“Are you kidding? You’d rake it in. Those who are sick. Single parents. Working parents. Dolt bachelors who never learned to crack an egg. Special occasions. Parties. Work events. Trust me, everyone knows when Lily Hunt is working at the Manor and they go those days.”
“Really?” she asked. Mr. Parster was a bit of a busybody who was on at least five town boards, so it was possible he was in the know.
“I don’t go around blowing smoke,” he said. “Anyway, just an idea.” He ate two more spoonfuls. “Heavenly. How do you get these carrots so soft and delicious?”
She laughed
. “I’m very happy you love the soup. And thank you for the compliment. Well, the rest of the soup is in the fridge with reheating instructions. Want me to stick around? Make you some tea?”
“Nah,” he said. “My other daughter is coming with a German chocolate cake. She’s a much better cook than Karly. Don’t tell her I said that.”
Lily laughed. “Sworn to secrecy.”
As she headed out to her car, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. Personal chef? She’d thought about having her own restaurant one day, something small to start, to learn the business and grow as a chef. Or her own catering shop for events. But being a personal chef hadn’t really occurred to her. Made-to-order dishes for individuals and families? And businesses and events, too? Hmm. A more personal touch.
She could have her own business doing what she loved.
She could even turn her little gift for reminding people of their best memories and home into her work.
Lily’s Home Cookin’.
Her heart leaped and pulse sped up. Yes! She would start her own home-based food business as a personal chef. She could offer meal-prep kits and ready-made dishes and make herself available for parties and events. She could be all things to all stomachs!
Lily’s Home Cookin’.
This time, when tears pricked her eyes it was because she was overcome with joy. Her mother would be proud of her. She knew it.
She drove home, thinking about the business plan she’d need to create. Using what she’d learned in school, doing some more research online and really homing in on what she envisioned for her business, Lily could even approach the bank about a small business loan. She wouldn’t need incredible overhead to start, but she’d need decent padding for the ingredients she’d need, cookware, containers and labels, advertising, an accountant and her own space.
Yes. It was time to find her own home, a condo or small house with a good-sized, modern kitchen. Her dad would understand and he’d also be proud of her.
All that settled in her mind, she turned on the radio, planning to sing along at the top of her lungs to her favorite station, but there was a commercial on. Of course.
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