by Meg Benjamin
“I’m definitely not working too hard. I’m not working hard at all. I’m playing.” Peaches gave them both another delighted smile. “Tell me what you think of those muffins. They’re new.” She grabbed the tray with her potholders and headed back into the kitchen.
Liam took a bite, savoring the combination of almond and honey, with the slight hint of fruit that was probably apricot. He shook his head. “God, this is terrific. Why aren’t there people in the streets hammering the door down to get to these?”
“Business is going gangbusters. I’m as happy as Peaches is.”
“Good. I’m pretty happy myself.” He gave her another quick grin and watched her cheeks turn a deep pink. Happy at seven in the morning. A week ago he wouldn’t have believed it was possible.
“What time do you have to go to work?” she asked.
“I’m working the night shift tonight—it’s Friday. I start at three and then get off whenever we close down, which is usually around midnight this time of year. We don’t have as many late-night customers.”
She frowned. “That’s a long shift.”
“Yeah, but right now I’m the only full-time bartender. There’s another guy who picks up a couple of evenings a week, and some days we keep the bar closed during lunch so I can work the late shift. Once the skiers start showing up, Stanton will need a couple of bartenders to handle the workload. Not that he’ll admit that.”
“You don’t think he’ll hire them?” One eyebrow arched.
“With Stanton you never know. He must realize he’s going to need somebody, but he hates to spend the money, just like he didn’t want to spend the money to hire a first-rate cook. He’ll put it off as long as he can.”
Ruth shook her head. “That’s the restaurant business. It’s never as stable as you want it to be. Even with a good manager.”
“Which the tavern definitely doesn’t have right now.” He took another bite of his muffin to get the sour taste out of his mouth. Talking about Stanton was taking the glow off his mood. Even though he was leaving, he was still annoyed about the waste of a good tavern.
“You get off at midnight tonight?” Ruth was looking down at her coffee cup, stirring in some nonexistent sugar.
He ignored the quick surge of excitement mixed with an undeniable flare of lust. “Somewhere around there, yeah.”
“Do you usually have dinner afterward?”
He shrugged. “If I’m hungry. Especially now since Peaches isn’t around to cook me anything.” He’d eat something off the tavern’s current menu only if he lost what was left of his mind.
“I could fix you something,” she said softly. “If that would be okay with you.”
“That would be…a lot more than okay. That would be great.”
She looked up at him, her lips moving into a faint smile. “Okay, then. Let’s do that. You come to my house when you get off, and I’ll make you a sandwich. Or something.”
Or something. He fought down another surge of lust, this time mixed with triumph. His conscience gave him a quick kick. “Staying up for me won’t keep you up too late?”
She shook her head. “We don’t open until noon on Saturdays. Less coffee break traffic. And I don’t have to get Carol up for anything since she’s still at Brett’s. We can sleep late.” Her cheeks flared pink again.
He nodded. “Definitely. We can definitely sleep late.” He took a quick sip of his coffee to hide his shit-eating grin.
“Do you need to work at the brewery this morning?”
He shrugged. “I’ll go over there later on to see if Bec needs me for anything. She works on her own in the afternoon and evening. Unless Wyatt’s coming up from Denver, in which case she’ll work until he gets there.”
Ruth frowned. “You’re going to work all morning at the brewery, and then you’re going to work at the tavern, and then you’re going to come to my house? How do you keep from collapsing in a heap?”
He gave her a slow smile. The lust was definitely there with a vengeance. “Some things just rejuvenate you. I take one look at you, and I’m wide awake, believe me.”
She smiled back. “Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want you to start fading away on me. I have plans.”
Liam’s heart gave a mighty thump, and he was pretty sure his temperature had gone up at least a couple of degrees. He’d never had a sexier conversation at eight o’clock on a bright mountain morning. Maybe he should try getting up early more often. “Glad to hear it. We can discuss those plans at dinner.”
“Count on it.” She glanced out the front window. “Here comes Tom.”
Liam squinted at the door as someone began to knock. “I thought you didn’t open until ten.”
“We don’t for regular customers, but the bed and breakfast people show up to get the pastries for their breakfast bars.” She unlocked the door to admit an older man in a plaid flannel jacket and jeans. “Morning, Tom. What do you need?”
Tom paused to inhale the heady smells of Peaches’s kitchen. “A dozen muffins, and some coffee cake if you’ve got it. Myra said she talked to Peaches yesterday about fixing some. We’ve got a couple of families to feed.”
The next hour bustled with commercial customers coming for pastries. Many of them took the time to talk to Ruth and sometimes Peaches. Several tried samples of muffins and coffee cake.
Liam had never stopped to think about the success of the Salty Goat. He just took it for granted. Now that he knew how much work was involved, he was even more impressed with what Ruth had accomplished. Her deli was booming, and it was largely the result of hard work.
And her chef. Liam took a little personal pride in that.
As the last customer closed the door behind him, she flipped the lock once again and dropped down in her chair. “Whoosh. That’s the end of the early morning business. Now we restock for the coffee breakers who’ll show up at ten.”
“Quite a rush. Do you supply all the bed and breakfasts around town?”
She shook her head. “We’ve got most of the old-timers, but some of the new guys do their own cooking. The owner of Casa Verde was a chef in Miami.”
“I’d still bet on Peaches in a head-to-head,” he said loyally.
Ruth grinned. “I would, too.”
Someone else knocked on the front door, and she frowned. “I don’t know who that can be. We’ve already had all of our regulars. And it’s still too early to open up for the coffee breakers.”
“Maybe it’s a hopeful tourist.” He contemplated the bakery case. He didn’t need another muffin. But he wanted one.
The person at the door knocked again, harder this time.
Ruth sighed. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.” She flipped the lock open and pulled the door wide.
Liam heard her gasp, but he couldn’t see her face or whoever was standing in the doorway. He pushed himself to his feet, moving quickly toward her.
Which was how he happened to hear the man at the door say, “Hey, babe, long time no see. Where’s the munchkin?”
Chapter Fifteen
Ruth managed to keep herself from gasping again. David was trying to put her at a disadvantage—going for the charm, pretending his showing up unannounced wasn’t a huge shock. She had no intention of letting him get away with it.
“Carol is visiting her aunt and uncle in St. Cloud. If you’d let me know you were coming, instead of just showing up first thing in the morning, I might have been able to plan for her to be here.” Or I might not.
She was aware of Liam at her elbow, his hand resting on her shoulder. Just how was she supposed to go about introducing her no-good ex to her current lover, particularly when the no-good ex was being a jerk?
David gave them both a lazy smile, one she recognized. It was the smile he used when he wanted to press his advantage. He turned toward Liam. “I’m David Mobley, Ruth’s ex, Carol’s dad. Who are you?”
She moved closer to Liam. “This is my friend, Liam Dempsey.”
David extended his hand, still sm
iling. “Good to meet you, Liam.”
Liam glanced at the hand for a moment, as if he was considering strategy, then he shook it, nodding a bit stiffly.
Ruth folded her arms across her chest. “Like I said, Carol isn’t here. If you come back after ten, I may have time to talk.” But probably not, given that they’d be dealing with the end of the coffee break crowd and the start of the lunch crowd.
David gave her another smile. “You haven’t got time for a cup of coffee and a bagel? Won’t take more than a few minutes.” He placed his hand on his heart as his smile turned mocking. “I promise.”
Ruth frowned. It would probably be best to just get it over with. She glanced at Liam.
“I guess I better take off.” He leaned forward quickly, brushing his lips across hers. “See you later.”
Oh, nicely played. A muscle danced in David’s jaw, but he kept his smile in place as Liam headed out the door.
Ruth turned back to him again. “Now, what is it you want?”
David shrugged. “I want to see Carol. When will she be back?”
“I don’t know exactly. It was an open-ended invitation. I’ll talk to Brett today and see what’s going on.” She had no intention of promising anything about bringing Carol back early.
David shrugged. “Why not call him now?”
“Because he’s probably working in the barn, and I’m working here. I’ll talk to him later this morning when we’ve both got more time.”
David gave her a grin that was closer to a smirk. “Oh yeah, the barn. The goats. Forgot all about that.”
Ruth took a breath to keep from saying something she’d probably regret. “Come back this afternoon. Or call. Or text. I’ve got nothing to tell you now.” Just go, dammit!
David’s expression slid from smirk to scowl. “You can call him now. He’s probably got his cell phone with him, even if he’s in the barn.”
Behind her, the kitchen door opened. David’s scowl immediately became something else, something much more predatory.
Ruth turned. Peaches was bending over the pastry case, lining up cinnamon rolls on one of the trays. Her golden hair gleamed in the morning sunlight. She looked a little like a baking cherub.
“Hey there, sweetheart, are those fresh?” David took a step closer to the pastry case.
Peaches glanced up, smiling. “Yes, sir, fresh from the oven this morning.”
“My, my. Don’t they look tasty.” David gave her a grin that was probably supposed to be seductive. It wasn’t clear whether he was talking about the rolls or Peaches herself.
Peaches’s smile faded slightly. “Thanks.” She backed away from the case, heading back toward the kitchen.
“Can you get me one of those and a cup of coffee? And maybe you could join me for a little breakfast. Tell me all about your cinnamon buns.” David’s look had turned sultry. He moved closer to Peaches.
“Oh, well, no…” Peaches fumbled with the sheet pan in her hands.
Ruth stepped into David’s path. “That’s okay, Peaches, I’ll take care of this.”
Peaches beat a quick retreat to the kitchen.
Ruth glared at her ex-husband. “Leave my cook alone.”
David shrugged. “I wasn’t doing anything. Just asked her to breakfast.”
“I just hired her, and she’s a terrific cook. I don’t want her to quit because she’s being harassed on the job.” Ruth put her hands on her hips. “If you want breakfast, you can get it somewhere else.”
David shook his head. “I wasn’t harassing her. I was flirting with her. Geez, Ruth, don’t you know the difference anymore? Get over yourself.”
“Leave, David. Just leave.” The tension across her shoulders was becoming painful.
“I’ll leave if you tell me when Carol’s coming home.”
Ruth closed her eyes. She could stand her ground, but she wanted him out of her shop. “She’s having a good time at the farm. Give her a couple more days. You can come for dinner the day after tomorrow. I’ll clear it with Brett today.”
“Good enough.” David ambled toward the door, turning to give her one more smirk. “I knew you could work it out if you tried.”
Ruth’s hands gathered into fists, but she kept quiet. Anything to get him out of her deli.
A moment later, Peaches opened the kitchen door part way, obviously checking to see if David was still there.
Ruth frowned. “He’s gone. Listen, I’m sorry about that. That was my ex-husband. He thinks of himself as irresistible, which should give you some idea of why he’s my ex.”
Peaches’s grin was dry. “Don’t worry about it. You can’t work in kitchens as long as I have without learning how to deal with assholes.”
“Right.” Ruth had picked up a lot of those abilities herself over the years. But if David was back, she’d probably be sharpening up her skills.
…
Liam told himself not to be an idiot. Tracking down Ruth’s ex and punching him out wouldn’t help her, and it was liable to land him in the slammer. It was a tempting prospect, though. Clearly David Mobley hadn’t had enough ass whippings in his life. He struck Liam as a slimy bastard.
He pushed open the door at Antero Brewing a little more energetically than he had to, startling Bec, who was cleaning out the brew kettle.
“That’s a dramatic entrance. What’s up?”
“You ever meet Ruth’s ex?” He grabbed a lab coat to put on over his T-shirt and jeans.
Bec shook her head. “They broke up when Carol was an infant, long before I knew Ruth.”
“Well, it looks like you’ll get your chance. He’s here in town.”
Bec frowned. “Why? What does he want?”
“Carol, apparently. He showed up at the Salty Goat a half hour ago. I left before he got around to details.”
“Why the hell would he come here to see her? I don’t think he’s ever set foot in Antero before. At least, not for a lot of years.”
“Got me. We didn’t have much time to chat.”
Bec gave him a sly grin. “What were you doing there before opening hours?”
“Having breakfast and helping out. They have a lot of early morning customers from the bed and breakfasts.” He actually had helped a little—he’d counted out muffins and handed boxes to the customers, partial payment for one of the most enjoyable breakfasts in recent memory.
“You just happened to be there at breakfast time?” Bec raised a slightly sardonic eyebrow.
He shrugged. “Right place, right time. What are we making today?”
She gave him a smile that let him know she wasn’t even slightly fooled by the change in subject. “We need to do another batch of IPA. Do you want to taste your new batch of saison? It’s been aging for around a week now.”
He paused to consider. He was curious about how this batch of saison had turned out, but he didn’t want to rush it. And he wasn’t ready to share it with Bec—it was his baby, after all. “Not quite yet. Let’s give it another few days.”
Bec nodded. “Okay. You get the malt. I’m thinking pilsner and maybe some pale crystal.”
“I can do that.” Schlepping bags of grain around the brewery floor should help take his mind off Ruth and her rat bastard ex if anything could.
Of course, it was always possible that nothing could do that.
…
Ruth worked steadily in the cheese room until ten. Brett showed up a little after eleven with the morning’s milk. He wasn’t overjoyed to hear about the return of his former brother-in-law.
“What did the prick want?”
“He wants to visit Carol, so I guess I’ll bring her home. Don’t tell her what’s happening, though. I’ll explain it when I pick her up.”
Brett looked like he’d bitten into a sour apple. “Too bad. Ginger’s been enjoying having her around. They’re both going to be disappointed. You want to pick her up tonight?”
Tonight. She thought of Liam showing up at midnight to find a sullen twelve-year-old
ensconced upstairs. She thought of how much she’d been looking forward to their sort-of date. “Make it tomorrow. That way she can have another night.”
Brett nodded. “Sounds good. Make the prick wait. No reason Ginger and Carol have to do what he wants.”
“No reason at all.” And this way Ruth got to have one more night with her dashing bartender before reality intruded once again.
Chapter Sixteen
Liam wasn’t sure if McCullough was being more obnoxious than usual or if his own desire to head for Ruth’s place had weakened his tolerance for bullshit. He found himself gritting his teeth and trying to avoid the kitchen as much as possible. It was hard enough to be polite to the customers at the bar when he was feeling impatient with the universe. Having to also be relaxed about McCullough’s rants was almost more than he could manage.
He was fairly sure McCullough was drinking in the kitchen. He still managed to get the orders out, but the difference between his cooking skills and Peaches’s was becoming more obvious every day. Liam supposed there were worse restaurants in town, and they were still pulling in tourists. But nobody was happy, not McCullough, not the waitresses, and certainly not Liam.
Why was Stanton letting the tavern go downhill? It pissed Liam off. Black Mountain Tavern had been a class act once upon a time, before Stanton took over the lease. The previous operator, Garrett Wilhelm, had had a heart attack and pulled out last year. When Wilhelm had been in charge, it had been one of the best bars in Antero. Now it was turning into a dive because Stanton was too cheap to make it work.
After he managed to serve enough beer to keep the crowds at least slightly happy, he saw Stanton enter from the street, frowning as he counted the house. A few drinkers still hung around the bar, and there were others at the pinball machine at the back. The tourists held down the front tables, but the locals were no longer coming in the way they had in the past.
“This place is a fucking money sink,” Stanton grumbled.
“Yeah?” Liam took a quick survey of the tavern interior. He couldn’t see anything that showed Stanton had invested much money in the place during the last six months.