Stealing the Cowboy's Heart

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Stealing the Cowboy's Heart Page 10

by Debbi Rawlins


  “I know.”

  “It makes espressos, cappuccinos, lattes...even plain ol’ coffee.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, holding back a laugh.

  He glanced up again. “Right. You know.”

  “I do. And I have the empty bank account to prove it.”

  “How much did this sucker set you back?”

  Kylie sighed. “Too much.”

  “What? A grand?”

  She cleared her throat.

  “More?” he asked, his brows rising.

  She picked up the carafe and put it in the sink. “This is low end. Some of them go for four thousand.”

  “That’s crazy.” He watched her reach for the dish detergent. “I already washed it.”

  “What?” She followed his gaze to the carafe. “You must really want that espresso.”

  “Nah.” He set down the instructions. “I just figured I’d make myself useful—hey, how about I make you something? Feel daring?”

  Her breath caught. Although his tone hadn’t been the least bit suggestive, something in his eyes triggered a warm flush that spread through her body.

  Oh, this was just plain silly. She’d better make a decision quickly.

  “Maybe later,” she said, switching her attention to the clock. “We’ll end up getting interrupted.” She swung her gaze back to him. “I mean, you know, before I can enjoy a cup in peace.”

  “Good point.” He studied her closely, as if sensing the tension thrumming inside her. “You want me to move this?”

  “It can stay there for now.” She stared at the large espresso machine, thinking up something to say that would cut through the sudden awkwardness she felt. “Oh, and thanks for setting this up.” When she finally risked looking up into his familiar face, a smile came easily. “It’s been nice,” she admitted, surprised when his brows lowered. “You know, having you around. It’s nice.”

  Landon sighed. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, Kylie.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Treating me like a brother.”

  “I just said it was nice having you around. How is that...” She trailed off, knowing he was probably right. “Old habit, I guess.”

  “Are you afraid you’ll feel guilty if this thing between us turns out to be something?”

  Unprepared for his directness, she hesitated. “I suppose it’s possible, but I really don’t know.”

  “You haven’t been in contact with Gary, so I doubt that’s the problem.”

  “Aren’t you two still friends?”

  “Not for a long time.”

  Her heart sank to her stomach. “Because of me?”

  “I can’t say that wasn’t a factor,” Landon said, with the candor she’d always admired. “But mostly it’s the drinking. Every time he gets plastered, he whines about missing you and how the judging is rigged. His rodeo career is over. Everyone seems to know that but him.”

  Kylie sighed.

  “Don’t take that on yourself. He created the problem, not you.”

  “I know. I really do.”

  “I hope so.” Landon caught her hand. “You went above and beyond catering to him. So much more than he deserved.”

  “You mean I was a doormat.”

  “No,” he said, trying to tug her closer.

  Kylie wouldn’t budge. The lack of conviction she sensed in his response disappointed her. The truth would hurt but it was what she needed from Landon.

  “Sometimes it appeared that way,” he added slowly. “But I think something else was going on with you.”

  Startled and curious, she let down her guard. Another slight tug and she was close enough to feel his breath on her face. “What do you mean?” she asked, not at all sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “I think you might’ve let Gary get away with so much because you felt guilty about being attracted to me.”

  She looked down, certain her cheeks were flaming. “We never crossed the line.”

  “Of course not. I’m not saying that. But refraining didn’t keep me from feeling like crap.”

  His admission helped to calm her. She had felt guilty and angry and frustrated and so much more, all of which she’d thought she kept hidden, just to stave off arguments. But she’d learned a lot since then and no matter what happened, she wasn’t ever going to be a doormat again.

  He nudged her chin up. “You were never unfaithful.”

  Oh, but those shocking thoughts as she’d lain in bed each night... “You know what,” she said, her face heating at the memories, “we’ve talked about Gary enough. Let’s leave the past in the past. Yes, I felt something for you. That needs to be enough for now. And if that makes you feel as though you made the trip here for nothing, I’m sorry.”

  The bell announced a customer.

  “Excuse me.” Kylie nearly tripped in her haste to leave the kitchen.

  A pair of Sundance guests who’d come by earlier in the week stood at the display case. “Hey, any chance you received that espresso machine yet?” The tall blonde dragged her gaze away from the chocolate cupcakes. “I’m seriously jonesing for a—”

  Her gaze skipped past Kylie. Eyes widening, a smile lifted her lips.

  The other woman looked up from the case with a gasp. “Landon Kincaid?”

  Kylie already knew he’d walked out behind her. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the way women responded to him. But that these city women could so easily recognize him? Kylie had meant to look him up online last night, but she’d forgotten.

  “In the flesh,” he said. “You must be rodeo fans.”

  The blonde extended her hand. “I’m Bridget.”

  After wiping a palm on his jeans, he reached over the counter.

  “I’m Leah and definitely a fan,” the brunette said. “I saw you ride in Oklahoma the day you got hurt.”

  Landon winced. “Yeah, not my finest hour.”

  “All I could think was, poor baby.” Leah seemed to be having trouble letting go of his hand. “You’re still going to make it to the finals, right?”

  With a slick move, he extricated himself and gave Leah a smile that was sure to smooth over any hurt feelings. “Count on it, darlin’.”

  Kylie tried not to roll her eyes. Or gag at how thick he was laying it on. It wasn’t like him to be flirty, and it bothered her more than it should.

  “Oh, good. I already have my tickets. I’ll be sitting right up front.”

  “We both will,” Bridget added. “What about tomorrow night? You’re coming to the dance, right?”

  Landon cocked a questioning brow at Kylie. “I don’t know anything about it.”

  “They were late posting signs. But Rachel—she runs the Sundance where we’re staying.” Bridget lowered her voice. “We’re not from around here, but you’ve probably guessed that,” she said with a flip of her blond hair, oblivious to Kylie standing right there. “Anyway, according to Rachel, it’s really fun. Like an old-fashioned barn dance. Promise you’ll come.”

  Quietly fuming, Kylie wondered how they’d like Pepto-Bismol lattes. She could make them look real pretty and taste like peppermint.

  “And since I’m your number one fan,” Leah said, “you should really save the first dance for me.”

  “Well, darlin’ you seem to have forgotten. I’m still using crutches.”

  Bridget gave him a very purposeful smile. “Don’t you worry, you can lean on me all you want.”

  Kylie had listened to all she could stomach. “Sorry, ladies, no special coffees available yet. May I get you something else?”

  A loud horn sounded from outside.

  Leah glanced back. “Damn, I forgot. It’s Rachel. A group of us are going to Glacier National Park.”

  “S
he sure has been testy lately,” Bridget said, sighing. “We better go.”

  The women started walking backward as if they couldn’t bear to look away from Landon. “Tomorrow night,” Leah said to him. “Don’t forget.”

  “Or tonight...come next door to the Full Moon,” Bridget added. “I’m buying.” She opened the door but paused and frowned at Kylie. “Are you two brother and sister?”

  “No,” Kylie said, folding her arms across her chest.

  Landon looked at her and grinned.

  Rachel wouldn’t let up on the horn so the two women scurried out the door.

  “Guess I didn’t make the trip for nothing after all,” he said the second they were alone. “Huh, sis?”

  Kylie unclenched her jaw. “I hate you right now,” she muttered and headed into the kitchen, shutting out his laughter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Landon stood outside Kylie’s garage, guzzling his third glass of ice water in as many minutes. Much as he hated working with the door open to prying eyes, the hot afternoon sun was kicking his ass.

  Using the hem of his damp shirt, he blotted the sweat from his brow and squinted toward the snow-capped Rockies in the distance. Couldn’t beat the view, and as for the heat, he’d be willing to bet this was unusual for September.

  The neighborhood was made up of small, sturdy houses, probably built back in the 1920s, with their postage stamp front yards and well-tended gardens. A few homes, like Kylie’s, boasted white picket fences meant more for show than anything else.

  All in all, it was a nice place. He could see how she would like it here, even though she was surrounded by much older neighbors. Hell, they were better than guard dogs. He liked knowing she had folks looking out for her.

  Just as he was about to get back to work, he spotted a battered white pickup that reminded him of the old heap he’d gotten rid of three months ago. It had just turned off Main Street and was headed in his direction. Wouldn’t surprise him if it was the kid Matt had found. The timing was right.

  The driver slowed down, then pulled up behind Landon’s truck in the driveway. The kid stuck his close-cropped dark head out the window and said, “Okay to park here?”

  “Only if you’re Barry.”

  Barry cut the engine and climbed out, eyeballing Landon’s truck as he passed it. “Nice ride. Had it long?”

  “A few months.”

  Landon shook his hand, glad the kid didn’t appear to have anything to prove, although he wasn’t sure who’d win in a fair fight. The kid had guns without being overblown. Interesting, in this cowboy town, that he was into wrestling.

  Landon walked with him into the garage, where Barry surveyed the equipment the way most riders weighed up horseflesh. Landon mentally debated how to bring up the subject of discretion. And that he had little experience using any of the equipment.

  “Where did you get all these tools?” Barry asked, studying the big tricked-out worktable that would have even impressed Chad. “Matt?”

  Landon nodded. “A few things are mine that I keep in the truck.” Yeah, like the hammer and screwdrivers hanging off his new tool belt. The kid didn’t need to know that.

  Barry wandered over to the board Landon had set between two chairs. The one he’d been beating the tar out of. The chain he used to make dents in the ash was heavy as hell, but it was coming along pretty well, not to mention giving him a good upper body workout.

  “Hot day to be distressing wood like this. You know I’ve done some of that using vinegar and steel wool. I could help.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather you take over the actual construction.” Landon noted Barry’s confused frown, and just like that the perfect solution occurred to him. “Here’s the thing, Kylie’s worried I’ll end up hurting my leg. I told her I’d be fine. But I can’t take any chances. I gotta be able to get back on a horse soon.”

  “Rodeo, right?”

  Landon nodded. “I got some plans you can look over, then we’ll discuss what’s in your wheelhouse. And how much you’re charging.”

  Barry smiled. “I’m not dirt cheap, but only because I’m good.”

  “Yeah? I’ll give you a chance to prove it. First, let me get us a couple of cold drinks and the plans. Then we can talk turkey.”

  The kid was cocky, but that was only a bad thing if he was trying to pull one over. Matt wouldn’t have recommended the boy if he was full of it, but Landon would be careful. He wanted this project to go off without a hitch.

  They ended up bartering back and forth, and when Barry finally agreed on a price, Landon decided to add a little incentive for the kid to keep his mouth shut. “Like I said, Kylie can’t know you’re doing most of the work or how much I’m paying you to do it. So, I’ll give you a ten percent bonus if you keep everything about this project just between you and me. I mean no one else can know what we’re doing, not even your girlfriend or your folks or Matt.”

  “Ten percent of the total?”

  “Yep. And I’ll set you up with some VIP tickets for the rodeo, how about that?”

  Barry cleared his throat. “No offense, but would you care if I sold them? I’m starting college in January, and I’m trying to make sure my mom has some money put aside. Just in case.”

  “None taken.”

  They shook once more and Landon relaxed a notch. After hearing about Barry’s experience and his take on the bench seat plans, Landon was hopeful that this would turn out to be a good deal for both of them.

  The kid went back to his truck and settled his own fully loaded tool belt just under his waist. “So, you’re ambidextrous?”

  “What? No. Right-handed.”

  Barry gestured awkwardly toward Landon’s belt. “It’s, uh, more typical to put the most used tools near your dominant hand. I noticed on the shelf by the wall there was a chalk line, a carpenter’s pencil and a hooked blade. Probably should keep those handy.”

  “Ah.” Landon forced himself to meet Barry’s eyes.

  “You can use the left pockets for nails, screws, a chisel, that sort of stuff.”

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

  Barry shrugged, and started working on the frame for the first base.

  After setting up his belt, and deciding he’d never think of this experience again, ever, Landon went back to distressing the wood. Soon enough, they settled into an easy rhythm. The boy—actually, he was a young man—seemed certain of his moves, checked the plans several times, measured carefully.

  It caught Landon by surprise when another truck pulled into the driveway. Turned out to be Joe, who must’ve been on his way to work at the bakery. Landon hoped Joe wasn’t going to kick up a fuss about Barry.

  “Well, damn,” Joe said, taking his time checking out the setup. “I thought you’d be out here with a handsaw and some duct tape. Looks to me like you got yourself some good help—”

  “Yeah, about that—”

  “—which is fine by me.” The older man took off his white cap and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I just got a job over in Twin Creeks that’s gonna keep me hopping, what with the job at the bakery. But if you still need to use my workshop, we can work something out.”

  “Yeah, Barry’s terrific. I got lucky. But if I need the workshop, I’ll give you a call. It’s more important for you to get Kylie’s place ready, anyway.”

  “Sure thing.” Joe nodded, apparently pleased.

  “Good. Let me walk you out.” Landon clapped Joe on the back, easing him out of the garage. Just as he hiked up into his truck, Landon leaned in. “Remember. Not a word to Kylie about any of this. Pretend we never talked, okay?”

  Joe shook his head. “You think she knows you’re sweet on her? Better you just tell her soon.”

  Landon sighed. First, a kid had to tell him how to wear a damn tool belt,
and now Joe wanted to give him advice in the romance department. Riding a bucking bronc was much easier.

  “Don’t worry,” Joe said. “I’ll keep quiet.”

  As Landon watched him drive away, it occurred to him how much his success relied on a high school kid and a carpenter he barely knew to keep their mouths shut.

  Good thing his brother had taught him to believe in miracles.

  * * *

  KYLIE LEFT The Cake Whisperer in high spirits. She couldn’t have been happier about Celeste starting at the bakery in two days. Not only had she come with glowing recommendations, Kylie really liked her. Plus, she wanted to work mostly mornings which were Kylie’s busiest times.

  A bonus was that Celeste was an excellent baker. In order to stay home with her kids, she’d been supplementing the family’s income by baking at home the same way Kylie had done back in Iowa. Celeste still had a small customer base but the business was too sporadic and she planned on directing them to The Cake Whisperer. Kylie insisted on giving her a commission for her delicious German sweet breads.

  There was another reason Kylie was excited to have her start right away. If all went well, it was possible she’d have more time to spend with Landon. Not just to help him with the furniture, either. Just thinking about him and the decision she’d made speeded up her heart rate and her pace.

  It was a beautiful day, and since the shop was closed and Joe was working she’d decided to take a dinner break at home. She’d walked the ten minutes from the bakery, as had become her habit while the good weather lasted.

  As soon as she turned onto her street she could see his truck parked in her driveway. Someone in a white pickup was backing out and she hoped it was the boy Matt had found to help Landon.

  Walking briskly past her neighbors’ homes, she waved at the elderly couples sitting on rockers on their front porches. She’d met most of them the first day she’d moved in and figured they were keeping an eye on all the activity going on at her place.

  Just before her driveway she heard a vehicle slowing behind her. The sheriff’s truck stopped and the window went down.

 

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