by Alison Kent
“Of course not.” She thought back to their conversation earlier in the week. “I only wanted you to give Mitch a chance, rather than assume he was going to take advantage of me.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it? That’s why you were so suspicious of him. Or maybe wary is a better word.”
“No, suspicious is fine. I’ve got this…thing about looking out for people I care for. I didn’t pay attention one time when I should have, and things for my family went south. I’ve tried to make up for it since, and I go overboard sometimes.”
“Does that mean you care about me?” she asked, wishing as the words left her mouth that she could grab them back and swallow them whole. “I’m sorry. That was forward of me.” When all he did was smile, she asked, “What?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone apologize for being forward.”
This. She didn’t know how to deal with this. With him. What he made her feel. The things that came out of her mouth because she wondered what he was thinking, what he thought of her. “May taught me better. That’s all.”
“Don’t apologize for asking what’s on your mind. And to answer—”
“No. Don’t answer. I shouldn’t have asked. You were talking about your parents. Your brother and sister. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She fluttered a hand. “I blame the house.”
“Are you still not sleeping?”
She’d said that to him, too. That she’d come here to sleep, to start over. “I’m sleeping. And I’m starting over. It’s the facing the past I’m having trouble with.”
“How so?”
Big confession time. “I haven’t done anything toward finding my parents.”
“How can I help?”
She looked at him, stared at him, confusion a tilt-a-whirl in her head. “You want to help.”
“I can. I’ve got crazy Google-fu.”
“I can do it on my own. I don’t need help.” She had her house and her knife and her dog. She had her memories. She had her nightmares. But she also had May’s words: Don’t look to where you’ve come from. Look to where you’re going. And that advice, more than any of her fears, left her conflicted. “I mean, thank you for offering. But I need to do it.”
He got to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and shrugged. “I never did answer your question, you know. Yes. I care about you. And I’m offering to help because of that. It’s what friends do.”
Friends. Yes, they were friends. She was the one who kept imagining more. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
“But you’ll take me up on the offer if you need to?”
“So you can show off your…Google-fu?” And there she went again, teasing, even flirting, making the tension between them uncomfortable instead of keeping to the business of Two Owls that had brought them together.
“It’s a man thing,” he said, doing a quick flex of his pecs. “Flaunting our mad problem-solving skills.”
But wasn’t that about attracting a mate? The male of the species proving himself with his flashy feathers? Was that what was happening here? Was he preening? Or was her limited experience with men at fault, causing her to read more into his offer than was there?
He backed away before she could respond, saying, “I should probably get back to work. Leave you alone with your…staring.”
And then she laughed. He made her laugh. And if nothing else, there was that.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“What did you do with Magoo?” Luna asked once she and Kaylie had been seated at their table on the Gristmill’s deck. Beneath them, the Guadalupe River drifted lazily, bubbling over rocks and fallen logs.
“He’s in the house with Will and Ten. I told them to lock him up in the mudroom if he gets in the way.” Their server arrived with water and menus, taking their order for iced tea and then leaving them alone.
“We’ve got two Great Pyrs on the farm, but they’re shepherds more than they are pets. I did have a dog when I was younger. She’d been dumped in the ditch in front of the farm. Sweet little Maya. She was part Chinese crested and part Jack Russell. I miss her.” Luna reached for her water and sipped. “I’d love a Magoo of my own. Though maybe a smaller one. Like Maya’s size. She fit on my lap. Magoo would probably smother me.”
Kaylie laughed. “He was so small when I got him. I had no idea what his food bill was going to eventually be.”
“I can imagine. But I’m sure he’s worth it.”
“He’d be worth double,” Kaylie said, opening her menu. “And he’s a lot less maintenance than a relationship.” Though where that had come from she didn’t know. She’d never had a serious relationship. What did she know about what it took to maintain one?
“I’m spoiled by the single life. I do what I want when I want.”
“Do you date?” Kaylie asked, Ten coming to mind as she did. Her stomach tightened and she wanted to blame the response on hunger. The items on the menu had her mouth watering, but the pull in her belly was about Ten’s hands and his smile and the early sprinkling of coconut-colored strands in the dulce de leche of his hair.
Coconut brownies. With sweet Mexican caramel. She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent herself a text so she wouldn’t forget. Pecans, too. And a hint of cayenne. Yes. Absolutely cayenne. Done, she glanced up to find Luna staring, a sly I-know-where-you-went grin on her mouth.
“Hazard of the job,” she said, gesturing with her phone. “I have to catch the ideas before they slip through the sieve of my mind.”
“What was it? Something about the house? The menu?”
“Brownies. Dulce de leche and coconut and pecans, I think. And cayenne.”
Luna sat with her elbows on the table, her chin cradled in her palms. Her eyes twinkled. “I like the way you think. I could see the same colors in a scarf. Coconut for the primary, then accents of the other colors. Maybe blood orange, too.”
“Ooh. I wonder how the orange would taste,” Kaylie mused, typing out another text. “Sorry. One second, then I promise no more work talk.”
“Are you kidding? I’m fascinated by work talk. It’s better than dating talk any day, though I’m still trying to figure out how you went from men to food.”
Luna’s comment had Kaylie biting her tongue rather than admitting the idea for the brownie had been born of her thoughts of Ten. If the recipe turned out as wonderfully as she anticipated, she’d have to think of an appropriately cryptic name.
She would enjoy remembering the flavor’s genesis, but she didn’t want anyone else to know. Which brought her back to her original question. “So? Do you? Date?”
“I actually had a man cook dinner for me on Saturday.”
“Ooh, nice,” Kaylie said as their server returned with their tea and to take their orders. They both splurged on the bronze catfish topped with tequila butter and lime, and loaded baked potatoes. Kaylie’s stomach rumbled again as she handed her menu to the young man. “I haven’t eaten a decent meal in days. And I’ve never had a man cook for me that I can remember.”
“This one surprised me, though I’m not sure why. I don’t know him well enough to have had any expectations.”
“A new guy?”
“You met him at the same time I did. Will Bowman.”
Kaylie thought back to the tension the two of them had stirred in her kitchen and decided her immediate attraction to Ten might not be as unusual in the broader scheme as it was in her own experience. “He seemed…I don’t know. Nice sounds so lame, but he was. Maybe a little bit intense.”
“He’s definitely that. He’s also very smart and very sweet. And a very good cook. And very—”
“Hot. He’s very hot.”
Luna tossed back her head and laughed. “Oh yeah. Unfortunately, or maybe very fortunately, I can’t tell you if he’s good in bed, or even a good kisser. He does smell good, though. I hugged him when I left and got close enough to learn that at least.”
Did that mean Luna had wanted to ki
ss him? To sleep with him? Without knowing more about him than she did? Kaylie’s thoughts turned to Ten as if his direction was the only one they knew. They’d been close enough to touch several times as they’d passed in the house, as they’d studied blueprints spread out on the kitchen island. She hadn’t even noticed a cologne, but fresh air and laundered clothes and clean sweat. The light spice of aftershave. The pitch of pine sawdust clinging to his skin.
She reached for her tea, perspiration dotting her nape and the valley between her breasts. It was warm out, but nicely so, not enough for her to blame the weather for her sweat. She so wanted to blame the weather for her sweat. This talking men and sex and thinking of how Ten smelled…
“Hello, ladies,” said a familiar voice behind her, a welcome interruption to her disturbing thoughts. As Luna looked up, Kaylie turned in time to see Mitch Pepper stop at their table, his smile hesitant and not quite reaching his eyes. “I hope you ordered the catfish. I filleted it fresh this morning.”
“We did,” Luna said as Kaylie nodded. “Did you two already meet?”
“Mitch came by the house last week.”
“About the job?”
“Yes and no,” Mitch answered, hedging. “I love what Kaylie’s got planned, but this place is my home. I just don’t think two part-time gigs will pay the bills.”
Kaylie said to Luna, “I think he came by because you wanted him to. Not to see about the job.”
“She sees right through me,” Mitch said. “Actually, both of you do.”
“It’s our job as women,” Luna replied, her gaze flicking from Kaylie to Mitch and back. “Did he have ideas for more casseroles than you’ve come up with?”
“We didn’t talk specifics, but he swore he had all sorts of secrets up his sleeve.” Kaylie glanced up at Mitch, watched the slow shake of his head.
“I’ve seen him in the kitchen,” Luna, laughing, leaned forward to say. “He does. Trust me.”
“And before one of you manages to worm them out of me, I’d better get back and make sure your orders are being taken care of.” He lifted a hand in farewell. “Kaylie, good to see you again. And Luna, I’ll see you Sunday at the farm.”
“Oh, that’s right. Easter dinner. Kaylie, you have to come,” Luna said.
Was it Easter already? “I’ll have to check my calendar and see what’s going on with the house.”
“It’s Easter. It’s a holiday. Nothing is going on with the house. I already invited Will, and Ten will be coming, too. It’ll be great. My parents’ Easter dinners are not to be missed.”
“She’s right about that,” Mitch said, strangely wistful, even reserved. Then he shook it off and waved as he walked away. “You two enjoy your lunch.”
Kaylie turned and watched him navigate the series of connected steps, greeting customers and staff alike. “He seems like a great guy.”
“I’m glad you think so. He’s been a wonderful friend to our family. My father especially.”
“He told me they served together in the military.”
“My dad talked him into settling here after their discharge. I don’t think he could stand the idea of not having Mitch near. They’d been together since boot camp. My parents had been having some problems and Daddy enlisted so they could have the space to see if they could work things out.”
“That must’ve been tough on your mother. Having the responsibility of you and the farm without him there.”
“It was. I’m pretty sure his enlisting took their problems to a new level, but the separation also made them closer than ever. Her two brothers and their wives came up from Mexico and helped out, so it was all good in the end. Funny enough, things didn’t get rough until they got married.” Luna stopped to let their server place their plates on the table. “It’s one reason Daddy and Mitch are so close. Their service had a huge impact on both of their home lives, though in completely different ways.”
“How so?”
“Mitch enlisted to make a better life for his child and the woman he lived with, but came home to find them gone.”
Kaylie’s heart jumped in her chest. “Gone? What do you mean?”
Luna picked up her fork, her gaze on her plate as if she was gathering her thoughts. Kaylie reached for her napkin and spread it over her lap. “You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business, and having some ugly events in my past, I totally understand the importance of keeping private things private. I shouldn’t have asked.” She felt terrible for doing so, but the words had been there before she could stop them.
Luna finished with a bite of her potato. “He wouldn’t mind you knowing, I’m sure. But yeah. It’s not my place to share all of what he went through. Maybe if he comes to work for you, he’ll tell you about it one day.”
“It’s pretty apparent he’s not coming to work for me. He’s got a good thing going here. I wouldn’t give up a comfortable life for the unknown.”
Luna’s expression softened. “But isn’t that exactly what you’ve done?”
Kaylie laughed at the contradiction of her words and her actions. “You’re right. But it would be different for Mitch. I’m only offering him part-time employment, while I’m starting over with a new business. He’d be crazy to make that kind of change.”
“A full-time change, sure, but I could see him doing both. It would be a matter of balance, but he could make it work.”
“You seem awfully invested in him coming to work for me.”
“Is it that obvious?” Luna asked, her laugh almost nervous.
“It is. And I’m dying to know why.”
“I’m not sure I can explain it, to be honest. It’s an intuition thing, I guess. I see him in a rut. I want him to have more.”
“But he seems happy in what you call a rut. He may not think of it that way at all.”
“Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t.”
“But you do.”
Another laugh, another strange show of nerves. “I just know how good he is at what he does, and how happy it makes me when I have a new project on the horizon. Like my brownie scarf. I think the change would spice things up for him. Give him a new challenge. Something to look forward to.”
There was something Luna wasn’t saying. Kaylie was sure of it. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to press or leave it alone. “I gave him my card and he knew my ad was coming out last week. I’ve got one interview tomorrow and another Friday. I really want someone on board for planning before I open.”
“Well, like you said, he’s got your card. And he’s got to want it for himself.”
“And who knows. He may decide that he does,” Kaylie said, driven to appease the other woman because Luna seemed genuinely disappointed. “But even if he doesn’t, a very good thing has come out of you sending him to me.”
“It has, hasn’t it? I would hate to have missed out on meeting you.”
“And I you,” Kaylie said, certain she and the other woman were seeing the beginning of what was going to be a beautiful friendship.
Two Owls’ Number Ten Brownie Special
richly textured and full of the unexpected and sure to please
1½ cups unsalted butter
1¼ cups unsweetened Dutch-processed cocoa powder
2 ¾ cups sugar
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
5 eggs
1 ⅔ cups flour
½ cup sweetened coconut flakes
½ cup chopped pecans
½ cup dulce de leche
Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease or spray with cooking oil and flour (or line with aluminum foil) a 9 x 13–inch baking pan.
Melt the butter over low heat in a large saucepan. Remove from heat and whisk in the cocoa powder until smooth. Stir in the sugar and the salt until blended. Whisk in the cayenne pepper and the orange zest, followed by the eggs one at a time, blending after each. Add the flour to the saucepan, and fold in lightly with a spatula or spoon.
Mix in the coconut and the pecans.
Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and spread evenly. Warm the dulce de leche (in a double boiler, or microwave on low) enough to drizzle over the top. Bake for 40–45 minutes, or until an inserted tester comes out with a bit of batter attached. Cool completely before cutting.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Having unloaded her Jeep, walked the acre of her lot with Magoo, fed him, watered him, and then spent twenty minutes under the spray of her shower, Kaylie came downstairs feeling somewhat less exhausted to find Ten in the kitchen finishing up for the day.
He’d been outside with Will when she’d returned from her trip to Gruene, and she’d thought it best to unwind a bit before seeing him. She was still turning over the girl talk she’d shared with Luna. But mostly she was still working through her thoughts of Ten.
She’d never had a man inspire her to create a brownie before. Yet Tennessee Keller had sent her mind turning to food since the midnight he’d stopped by to look at her shutters.
She’d been forever getting back to sleep, thinking about the color of his hair, the texture…continuing as the days passed to think things she didn’t need to be thinking about the way he might look beneath his clothes. She especially did not need to be thinking that now, when he was in front of her, moving fluidly from one chore to the next, his body not overly muscled but so very strong.
She hadn’t expected to enjoy hearing him as he worked inside her house. The constant whine of his saw, and his and Will’s nail guns, and his stereo playing Amos Lee and the Avett Brothers and the occasional Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash. She wasn’t sure which man chose which music, and she had no plans to ask. She liked the mystery as much as the companionship.
It was all strangely comfortable, knowing she wasn’t alone when she’d been alone so much of her life. Much of that was the house. Much, but not all. Ten’s noise wasn’t the intrusion she usually found such racket to be. The question was why, but she wasn’t sure if knowing the answer would solve anything, and so she looked up—only to realize Ten had stopped moving and was staring at her.