by Liz Isaacson
“I’m putting it over the sloppy Joe mixture. Do you want it on a bun, or just in a bowl?”
“A bun.”
Adele served the sloppy Joe with mac and cheese to Scarlett with the words, “So I’ve been talking to Joey Dawson.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened, which only showed Adele the redness in them. Her best friend really had been crying most of the day. She’d already taken a bite of her sandwich, so her words were indecipherable.
Adele smiled and gestured for her to continue chewing. “He wants me to come to New York and help him set up the kitchen of his fourth restaurant. He used the word ‘position.’ As in, he’s offered me a job.”
Scarlett swallowed and wiped her mouth. “Holy mother of pearl. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Adele said. “Carson said he’d come with me, but I saw his face. He looked like I’d hit him with a baseball bat.” It was her turn to sigh as she moved back over to her burner and filled a bowl with the sloppy Joe mixture she’d made. Then she scooped mac and cheese on top, and deliberately took a spoonful of it, showing all the gooey strings of cheese. Then she built another sandwich on the bun, cutting it with a fork.
Scarlett watched her, eating while Adele got the footage she needed. “And?” she said, the moment Adele picked up the spoon again to actually eat the bowlful of food.
“And I’m going to call Joey tomorrow,” she said. “See what he really means. Ask a lot of questions.” Adele put a big bite of hot food in her mouth and immediately regretted it. Her tongue and the roof of her mouth burned simultaneously, and she opened her mouth to try to cool it.
“Wow,” Scarlett said. “You’d leave the west coast?”
Adele hurried to chew and swallow. “To work with an award-winning chef? I’d fly all the way around the world.” Scarlett knew that, and she nodded a couple of times at the same time someone knocked on Adele’s door.
“That’ll be Carson.” She left her bowl on the counter and dashed for the front door. She opened it to see him standing there, sans smile. “Hey. What’s going on?”
“Is Scarlett here?”
“Yeah.” Adele stepped back to let him in. “We’re eating. There’s plenty. You want some?”
“Is that a real question?” He grinned at her and moved past her without touching her. “Hey, Scarlett, uh, so I just got a text from Hudson, and he said to ask you if he could have a few weeks off.” He looked between Adele and Scarlett, pure nerves in those blue eyes.
Scarlett’s chin started to quiver, and Adele wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said softly.
“Tell him it’s fine,” Scarlett said.
Carson tapped on his phone, glanced up, and started for the door. “See you at class,” he said, ducking outside quicker than he’d come. Adele watched him go, the spot right behind her heart hollow.
What had just happened? He’d barely looked at her, and she’d offered him food, but he’d run out. Something was definitely wrong between them, and Adele knew what it was.
New York City.
Joey Dawson.
The very food she’d been about to serve him.
Adele felt like the items around her fell away one by one, until only she remained. Her and the scent of warm milk and melted cheese. She zoned back in when she realized Scarlett was crying softly, and she went to console her.
“He’ll be back,” she said. “Maybe he just wanted to go back to the beach for a bit. He worked hard to get the ranch ready for Jewel and Forever Friends.” Adele kept saying different versions of the same thing, because she’d seen Hudson and Scarlett together, and she did believe they’d make it work.
They’d work it out, and make it work.
Scarlett finally left, and Adele left her food on the counter as she realized how late she was getting over to the Goat Grounds for that night’s yoga class.
She enjoyed the yoga, and she liked being nearby Carson. She loved the goats, and she answered questions like a pro now. Once class ended, she and Carson usually cleaned up and got ready for the morning class, but tonight, he stood by the gate as he usually did, and stepped through it with the last guest.
He walked away without looking back and went around to the north on his way to get his dogs. They usually did that together too, cutting along the fence through the goat pasture, not going around.
“Carson,” she called after him, and he paused at the corner of the fence. She approached as he turned, and her lungs felt like they needed water instead of air to function. “Hey, are you…upset with me?”
“No,” he said. No smile. “I’ve just had a long day, and now Hudson’s not going to be back for weeks, and I have a lot of work still to do.” He tapped the brim of his hat in a sexy move and started walking again.
“Oh, okay,” she said, turning back to the arena that needed to be raked and fresh straw put down again. She did the work, letting her mind go wherever it wanted to. She couldn’t help thinking about Joey and New York City. And Carson.
So many thoughts focused on Carson.
“He said he’d come with,” she told herself. Maybe he really was just busy today. She’d go clean up her kitchen, edit her video, and stop by his place later. He liked to whittle in the evenings, or play the guitar, or throw a ball to his dogs, and he never wandered too far from his cabin.
That night, she walked over to his place, and sure enough, he sat on the front steps with his dogs at his feet. She went up the front sidewalk and joined him without saying anything.
He finally said, “Hey, beautiful.”
“Oh, so I’m beautiful now.” She wasn’t really mad, but her tone still held part of a bite.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said. “I was just frustrated over Hudson, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
She nodded. “Apology accepted.”
“I can go over to the arena in the morning and get it ready.”
“I did it.”
“Okay.” His knife made swishing noises as he sliced it across the wood. “Did you talk to Joey today?”
“He couldn’t talk today. I’m calling him after yoga in the morning.” Her stomach fluttered slightly, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. “You never ate the sloppy Joe with mac and cheese. We could have that for lunch tomorrow, and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Deal.”
Adele’s worries quieted, and she laid her head against Carson’s bicep while he continued to shave shards off the stick in his hand. He never did carve anything—unless a place in Adele’s heart counted.
Adele was too keyed up from her conversation with Joey Dawson to heat up leftovers. So when Carson showed up, dirty and sweaty, she threw herself into his arms with a squeal. “He legit offered me a job. Wants me in New York in a couple of weeks.”
He held onto her waist and twirled her around while she laughed. He chuckled, set her down, and said, “I’m filthy, sweetheart.”
“I don’t care.” She backed up and held onto his shoulders. “Can you believe this? Joey Dawson offered me a place at his restaurant.”
Carson grinned at her. “So I’ll wash up while you pull up who Joey Dawson is for me.” He stepped past her and into the house, sighing with the words, “Air conditioning.”
She followed him inside and put two containers in the microwave, then opened her Internet browser. The words seemed piled up behind her vocal chords, and when Carson came out of the bathroom, she unleashed them.
“So he’s doing a comfort food restaurant. I mean, all of his stuff is like that. He’s from the South, you know? But he loves the way I combine things, and he wants larger than life portions.” She clicked a couple of times and brought up his website. “See? He owns three successful restaurants in New York City already. Five star restaurants. Michelin star restaurants. It’s incredible.” She clicked on the menu. “So his fried chicken isn’t just fried chicken. It’s the best fried chicken on the planet.”
“Impressive,” he said.
“It is impressive.” Giddiness pranced through her as she turned away from her computer. “Scarlett said I could go, and I really, really want you to come with me. Joey said I only need to be there for a couple of weeks, and then we’ll come back here for a couple of months before the restaurant opens.” She felt like she was shining, and she searched his face for any sign about how he was feeling. He wore a blank mask, so she continued.
“I mean, we’ll go before the holidays and work in the kitchen with the other chefs to perfect the menu. Then it opens right after the new year.”
“Leave in two weeks,” he said. “Stay for two weeks. Come back for a couple of months. Then move there.”
“That’s right.” She threw her arms around him. “So? What do you think?”
Chapter 20
What did he think? He thought he would never survive in New York City. He thought Adele deserved this opportunity. He didn’t want to deny her anything. So he said, “I think Hudson better be back before we go, or Scarlett’s going to need to hire someone else.”
Adele giggled, her jolly good mood something magical. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin that. He couldn’t.
She stretched up and kissed him, a sloppy union of their mouths, still laughing. Then she went into the kitchen and got the food out of the microwave. He ate, contemplating what he would possibly do in New York while she was setting up the new restaurant.
It didn’t matter.
This wasn’t his ranch, and he had the money and freedom to do anything he wanted. Go wherever he wanted. And he wanted to be with Adele.
He took down the calendar for goat yoga. He refunded the people who’d already paid for the classes they had to cancel. He worked from morning until night doing his chores and Hudson’s chores.
Scarlett didn’t seem to be in any shape to hire anyone new, but she did shift around some responsibilities, and a few of the volunteers stepped up to take over his and Hudson’s chores.
The next thing Carson knew, he was loading two suitcases into the trunk of Adele’s car, and they were headed into the city, their plane tickets to New York City in his back pocket. He tried to ignore the traffic. The crowds of people. The smog and dirty scent in the air.
He tried, but he failed, and by the time Adele sat down in a seat in a very busy terminal, his nerves felt like someone had fed them to a chainsaw. He flashed her a smile and stuck his headphones in his ears—anything to isolate himself a little bit.
Thankfully, Adele seemed quite content to exist inside her head too, and they spent the day making connecting flights, eating on the go, and then sharing a cab to the hotel Joey had said would be ideal for their visit to the city.
Carson had paid for it—insisted, and maybe even threatened not to go with Adele if she didn’t let him pay for their hotel rooms—and it was nicer than anywhere Carson had ever lived.
“Dinner?” Adele asked when they made it to the twenty-second floor.
“Can we order in?”
“I’ll call room service and knock when it’s here,” she said with a smile.
Room service. Carson had no idea what that entailed, and he was too tired to think about it. Inside his own room, he let the door close and he leaned against it, a long sigh hissing from his mouth.
He left his suitcase right where it was, a few feet inside the door, and walked over to the bed. Nothing about the room was big, including the bed. Outside the window, he did take a moment to enjoy the view of the city.
He stood there for a moment, feeling very small and very insignificant. Not that Carson had ever claimed much importance in this world. It was very easy to feel tiny under the huge sky in Montana. And lost driving away from it. And like a speck of dust among the hubbub and activity and people of New York City.
After removing his boots, he collapsed onto the bed and stacked three pillows under his head, relishing the release of pain when he closed his eyes. He’d wake up when Adele knocked with dinner.
The next time he opened his eyes, everything was pitch black and a chill played against his skin. A groan came out of his mouth as he sat up, blinking, trying to figure out where he was.
The clock on the table beside the bed—he was in the hotel in the city—said it was almost two o’clock in the morning, and his phone flashed with a blue light. Adele’s text said, I couldn’t get you to answer the door. You’re a heavy sleeper, country boy. ;)
His lips curled up softly at her words. At the very thought of her, and Carson wondered if this was what love felt like. A softness in his heart he’d never felt before and didn’t know how to categorize. Traveling all the way across the country so she could have the thing she wanted.
I have dinner when you wake up.
He finished reading her string of texts and got up to go to the bathroom. He wasn’t going to go next door this late at night—or early in the morning, depending on how he looked at it—to get whatever she’d ordered for him hours ago.
Sure, his stomach growled, but he’d survive.
How he made it to morning, he wasn’t sure. It felt like an act of God, as Carson never really fell back asleep after changing into his pajamas and closing the curtains against the bright city lights of Times Square.
By the time Adele knocked on his door, looking fresh and fabulous, Carson felt ready to fly back home.
Home.
He wasn’t entirely sure where home was at the moment, but he knew it wasn’t here in New York City.
But maybe it was with Adele Woodruff. He was so confused, and he didn’t know what to think.
“Hey, cowboy,” she said. “You crashed last night.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“I got you a burger and fries, but I don’t think they’ll be good this morning.”
“Nope. Just toss them. We can go to breakfast.”
“We’re meeting Joey and his wife for breakfast, remember?”
“Oh, of course.” Carson gave himself a mental shake, wishing he’d made a few notes of their itinerary. Well, really, Adele’s itinerary. “Do we have time for coffee?”
“There’s always time for coffee.” She turned and started down the hall, and Carson dashed back to the TV stand and grabbed his wallet and keycard. When he joined her in the hall, he took her hand in his.
“Sorry about the food. I hope it wasn’t too much.”
“Oh, you paid for it. So it’s fine.” She laughed, the sound glorious and dancing through his mind.
Energy pulsed off the street when Carson stepped outside, and it invigorated something inside him. Strangely enough, the peace and quiet on the ranch did the same thing. So maybe the city had a personality too, one that could speak to him the same way open fields and mountains could.
“I think there’s a coffee shop down here,” she said, leading him to the left. Carson felt very out of place in his cowboy hat and boots, but nobody stared at him. Everything around him seemed to loom stories and stories above him, and he couldn’t see a store anywhere.
He was just about to say something when Adele turned to go through a door. A door to the coffee shop. He hadn’t even seen it. The scent of coffee and chocolate hit him, making his stomach practically riot.
He should’ve known there would be a line, but it still surprised him to have to wait behind four other people.
“Is this great?” Adele bubbled. “This place is so cute. Look at those dog biscuits.” She waggled her fingers at a woman carrying a little white dog in her purse.
Carson didn’t know where to look, so he stuck close to Adele and let her order for him. Once they made it back to the sidewalk, Carson felt like he could breathe again. They strolled easily now, and before he knew it, Adele stood in front of another man and woman, shaking both of their hands.
“This is my boyfriend, Carson Chatworth,” she said, stepping back so Carson could shake hands.
“Joey Dawson,” the man said as they shook. He had almost black hair and a goatee to match. His eyes were as dark as the
coffee Carson drank, but they sparkled like diamonds. His wife—Yvonne—had long, wavy hair in a variety of blondes and browns, none of them real. She smiled at him with her mouth and her blue eyes, but she was the kind of woman that struck fear right between Carson’s ribs.
He shook her hand anyway, feeling very out of place. He wasn’t the type to stand on the street, visiting with friends, and yet there he was.
“So should we go over?” Joey asked, and Adele readily agreed. They walked a couple of blocks to the new restaurant, Adele chattering away about recipes and cuts of beef. Carson followed along like a puppy desperate for attention. He’d done the same thing at Last Chance Ranch too, but the difference was, he didn’t mind it there.
Joey stood just inside the door and started gesturing to corners and walls, talking about tabletops and bars and other things Carson wasn’t sure of. They moved into the kitchen, and he went to follow them, noticing that Yvonne didn’t. She’d sat at a chair, her coffee cup in one hand and her phone in the other.
“You’re not going back?” he asked.
She looked up from her phone. “I’ve been here a dozen times.” She faked a yawn. “It’s a big empty room, just like this one.”
Carson looked to the doorway Adele had gone through and back to Yvonne. “Can I join you?”
“Be my guest. They’ll be in there for a while, talking about ovens and walk-ins. It’s not terribly exciting.”
“I can’t imagine it would be.” Carson sat down in the chair opposite her. “What do you do?”
“I manage Joey’s career.” She flashed a pink-lipped smile at him. “His appearances, his filming schedule, meetings like this, all of it.”
Carson nodded like he understood what that meant, but in reality, he had no idea. He looked down at his phone in tandem with Yvonne, but she had something to do on her device. He texted and called, but he didn’t do anything else. No social media to check. No games to play. Just another way he didn’t fit in with this society.
His pulse pinched and it felt like someone had wrapped a rubber band around his chest and kept winding it tighter and tighter. As the minutes stretched, he wondered how long he needed to sit here and wait.