Second Chance at the Sugar Shack

by Candis Terry

  Something equally as intriguing slipped into her head as she pried open the ice cream container lid.

  Matt’s wife list.

  Four names had been on that paper. Which one had been the redhead she’d seen at his cabin? Was she his top choice? Last in line? Exactly what kind of woman was he looking for? Why would someone as gorgeous as Matt Ryan need a list? With all his good deeds and homegrown spirit he definitely made ideal husband material. And as for his talent in the bedroom—or in her case the back of a pickup truck—he’d had that aced at twenty-two years old.

  Her cell phone rang and stole her mind from all things tingly and sweaty. She wiped her hands on her apron and lifted the phone from the counter. “Hey, Josh.”

  “Please tell me you’ve changed your mind about staying in Deer Spit.”

  Kate wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder. “No can do, Tonto. I’m up to my elbows in ice cream and brownies.”

  “Careful you don’t get fat.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “You work in a bakery.”

  He made it sound like she worked in a sewage plant. Kate glanced at the display case where cream puffs snuggled temptingly beside a row of baklava. Okay, so she might have snarfed down a brownie or two. Or three. No big deal. Her jeans still fit. For now. Besides, brownies were a hell of a lot tastier than her usual Pepsi and Power Bar. “Working in a bakery is an honorable way to make a living.”

  “Yeah, if someone offers you a cable show and a wad of cash.”

  “It’s homey,” she insisted.

  “It’s lame,” Josh said with a final dig. “News update. Faith Hill called. She wants you to create the wardrobe for her upcoming tour.”

  Grabbing a new package of baking cups from the shelf, Kate asked, “When does the tour start?”

  “In March. She was a little anxious to find you were on extended LOA.”

  Kate sighed. “Give her my cell number. I promise I’ll be back . . . way before then. I have several good possibilities to hire for the bakery and dad seems to be adjusting okay.”

  “Hallelujah. Do you still want me to send the gowns?”

  Ah, her little side project. She couldn’t possibly let those girls down. “Yes. ASAP.” She had a lot to do in just a few weeks. But if she could survive fashion week in New York, she could endure anything. Who needed sleep? “In fact, send them overnight. The girls are almost done painting the place and the racks have been installed. So I have a place to hang them now.”

  “Oh goody.”

  “Look, Josh, I know you’ve been doing a great job with me gone. I want to thank you for saving my bacon.”

  “Just bring that bacon home fast, sweetie, cuz breakfast is being served short order.”

  “Right. Josh? One more thing, and I hate to ask, but what’s up with Inara?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Great. Kate tossed the phone on a pile of towels, scooped the ice cream into a large bowl, and stirred it with the wooden spoon.

  She’d lied to Josh.

  She didn’t have a single prospect to hire for the bakery. The girls had barely begun to paint the furniture they’d found for the dress shop and the racks were in boxes on the floor. Her dad still wasn’t sleeping in bed at night. She had to find the puppy’s parents. And her brother and sister were incommunicado.

  How the hell could she walk away from all that?

  An even bigger question had started to poke its dirty little head into her conscience . . . did she even want to walk away?

  She’d just begun to feel like she had a handle on things. Well, mostly the relationship with her mom. They’d chipped off a piece of the barrier between them and Kate couldn’t help but be optimistic that good things were in her future. It honestly felt like someone had pulled a dark shadow off her heart and replaced it with a sprinkle of some kind of happy dust. Like she was in the process of reinventing herself. Again.

  It was one level of crazy to admit to mending the relationship with her mother from beyond the grave, but that she would even consider walking away from the career she’d worked so hard to build? Anyone who knew her would call her a certifiable wacko.

  She’d be the first in line.

  But the longer she stayed, the more she began to care. And the more she began to care, the more she could see herself staying put. Who knew?

  Humming with the song on the radio she pulled the muffin pan closer, slathered peanut butter over the brownies in the half-filled baking cups then added the ice cream. After she smoothed the ice cream down, she sprinkled toffee bits, iced the tops with buttercream, drizzled them with caramel and sprinkled on slivers of dark chocolate. Then with a sense of creative satisfaction she stuck the entire pan into the freezer.

  Finally done for the day, she went back to the prep table and began to gather up her tools. A loud creak came from the back door. Kate turned just in time to see the knob twist. Heart pounding in her throat she picked up a chopping knife and held it in front of her as the door swung open.

  “Burning the midnight oil?”

  Breath whooshed from her lungs when she saw Matt standing there in his deputy uniform and the jacket she’d handed off to James Harley earlier that day.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, taking a deep breath to bring her racing heart down to normal. “You scared the heck out of me.”

  “You plan to use that thing?” He took a few steps closer. Humor flashed in his eyes as he gave a nod to the sharp implement in her hand.

  “Got a good reason why I shouldn’t?” she asked.

  “Probably.” He gave her a rare smile that made him even more handsome than normal. And that was really saying something. “But I figure I could disarm you faster than it would take to make up a story.”

  “Oh yeah?” Her fingers tightened around the wooden handle.

  The words had barely left her mouth before he pulled the knife from her hand, wrapped his arms around her, and held her hands behind her back.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Wow.” She looked up at him. “You work fast.” With her breasts mashed against his big solid body, breathing became impossible. In this case, she didn’t mind suffering. “What are you doing here? I thought I irritated the hell out of you.”

  “Among other things.” He looked down at her. His cool gaze searched her face. Lingered on her mouth.

  Trapped within his arms she felt the heavy pull of desire and a hot tingle spread across her chest. Only a slice of air separated their mouths. The scent of his aftershave filled her head with images she had no business thinking. Matt was a part of her past not a part of her future.

  Too bad her body had other ideas. “Well, you irritate the hell out of me too.”

  “Bet I can change your mind.”

  His cockiness triggered her temper. “You know, Deputy Ryan, this is the second time you’ve shackled my wrists. Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re into bondage?”

  A slow sensual smile curved his lips. “Would that shock you?”

  “I live in Hollywood. Nothing shocks me.”

  His quiet humor curled around her. “You sure about that?”

  Her eyes widened.

  Her lips parted.

  And Matt lowered his head.

  He hadn’t intended to walk in the bakery and kiss her, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He didn’t even have the sense to be appalled at his behavior. He was too busy drowning in the savage lust beating through his veins, pounding in his chest and grinding through his groin. From the moment she’d curled her hands into his shirt and he’d surrendered to what he thought was one last taste of her, he’d thought of nothing else than tasting her again.

  He savored the sugary scent of her skin while he fought the urge to back her up against the counter, slide those jeans down her legs, and bury himself inside her slick, hot body.

  Her mouth tasted sweet like rich chocolate, and by the way she had her body pressed up against him, sh
e was as hungry for him as he was for her. He let go of her hands and she brought them around to cup his head. Then those exploring fingers glided across his shoulders and down his chest. The touch of her palms spread fire across his skin, lighting him up with pleasure and pain.

  He cupped the back of her neck and her silken hair draped over his hand. He imagined how it would feel fanning across his bare chest and the kiss delved deeper. She moaned into his mouth while his opposite hand snuck beneath the hem of her sweater. Her skin was warm and soft as he slid his palm down the small of her back and tucked his fingertips between worn denim and soft skin. He pulled her tight against him. He ached for her. Needed her. While his tongue plunged into her mouth, her hands walked down his chest and she reached for the buttons on his shirt.

  His mouth found the curve of her neck. In total submission, she dropped her head back to give him access.

  Sanity roared back and popped him on the head. As much as he ached for her, he set her away from him. Their eyes met. With ragged, uneven breathing she stared back.

  “Still think nothing can shock you?”

  A slow smile curled her lips. “You’re pretty good at that, Deputy.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But you’ll have to do better than that to upset my banana cart.” She reached for a muffin pan and began sticking frilly paper cups inside the molds.

  “That sounds like a challenge.” One he definitely wouldn’t mind taking her up on. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m creating.” She poked a finger in the center of a cup and pressed it into place. “I figured as long as I’m here I had better keep myself entertained. So I’m coming up with some new items to add to the menu.”

  He planted a hip against the counter. “You always were the ambitious type.”

  She looked up at him and frowned. “Is that another dig?”

  “No.” He laughed. “I just remember you were always up to something. Like the time you hauled me to that old blow-me-down barn to salvage wood. Then you had me helping you build dog houses for the next three weeks so you could donate them to the animal shelter.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind.”

  “That’s because you were wearing short shorts and a tank top and bending over all day. I’m a guy. Of course I didn’t mind.”

  “Well, my idea kept some poor homeless doggies warm.”

  And for weeks afterward, thoughts of her pounding nails had kept him warm too. But it had always been more than just sexuality with Kate. For a long time she’d been the only person he’d been able to count on when his world had been a total bag of shit. They’d spent hours and hours together talking, laughing, dreaming. She’d listened to him and never judged him for the life he’d been born into or the way he dealt with his mother.

  She’d loved him. Or so he’d thought. And she’d given him the one thing no one else had been able to. She’d given him hope for a better life.

  He watched as she went to the freezer, yanked open the steel door and pulled out a tray. Her movements were almost musical, like inside her head she was dancing and her arms and legs followed the rhythm. He remembered that about her too. She’d always been an inspiration to watch whether she’d been scooping up chili for the walking tacos they sold at the FFA booth at the fairgrounds or cleaning out the stalls for her summer job at the Clear River Lodge. She put her heart and soul into everything she did, even if it meant she ended up smelling like donkey dung.

  “Here,” she said, lifting a cupcake from the pan and handing it to him. “Try this and tell me what you think.” She leaned back and folded her arms.

  “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

  The overhead lights hit her eyes and he could swear they sparkled with mischief. “Would that shock you?”

  “Not at all.” He bit into the cake and flavor exploded across his tongue. The rich chocolate and caramel were the same he’d tasted when he’d kissed her. He closed his eyes, savored the smoothness, the passion of the dessert. He heard himself moan.

  “You like it?” Excitement danced in her words.

  He moaned again. “I think you’re onto something here, Hollywood.”

  She clapped her hands and gave a little jump of pleasure that landed her right in his arms.

  Without hesitation she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. It took everything he had to keep from wrapping his arms around her and holding her there, right against his heart. He’d been in love with Kate over ten years ago, when neither of them knew much about anything except they liked being together. And even now when he knew better, even now when he was a thirty-two-year-old man established in the community and well in control of his life, chances were he was still probably a little in love.

  Now that would shock her.

  Because it sure as hell shocked him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The following morning, Matt stood at the kitchen window looking out over the lake. The cup of coffee in his hand had grown cold while he berated himself for giving in to the urge to stop at the Shack last night where he’d proceeded to kiss Kate. God. Why did he continue to torture himself? Hadn’t he learned his lesson? When it came to Kate, obviously not.

  To make matters worse, he’d enjoyed himself. Over coffee and her mouthwatering cupcakes they’d laughed about old times. They’d talked more about her career and he’d gained a better understanding of what she actually did to be paid such a high salary. He’d been impressed, even proud of her. But the conversation they’d had did nothing to disprove she was anything more than a temporary fixture in Deer Lick. She loved what she did. And once she finished up here, she would leave. She made it clear that this town couldn’t hold her. What made him think he could? He hadn’t been enough for her then. Why would he be enough for her now?

  Little had changed. He was still the same man. A little more mature. A little rough around the edges. But he still had the same soul. He still had his pride. And as much as he wanted the woman who’d set his soul on fire years ago, he would never let her strip him of his pride. At least, never again.

  He sipped the cold java and frowned. He’d best take his own advice and stay away from her. He’d set his life in motion. He wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to stand in his way.

  Prepared to take action on getting back on track, he strolled into the kitchen, dumped the coffee in the sink, and poured himself a fresh cup. Then he sat down with his To Do list and picked up the phone. He punched in the numbers to call Emma Hart and ask her out for a date. He’d take her someplace special. Someplace dark and romantic. Someplace where he wouldn’t be tempted to think of Kate. Or her soft mouth. Or how much he wanted her. Body, heart, and soul.

  Kate sighed with relief as she locked the back door to the bakery and headed toward her mother’s car. Matt had not made an appearance for his tuna sub today. Apparently the gods had been listening last night when she’d prayed herself to sleep. She had no control when it came to that man. He was like an inviting tropical pool on a hot summer day. And she’d be smart to remember her lack of swimming skills.

  She opened the car door and the pup jumped in. Or he attempted to. His back legs just weren’t long enough or strong enough to complete the process. With a chuckle, she picked up his hindquarters and gave him a little help. As she started the engine, he sat beside her on the bench seat, his pink tongue lolling happily from between his tiny teeth.

  “Day’s not over, pup. We still need to put in some time at the dress shop.” His warm brown eyes sparkled up at her and her heart melted. She stroked his head. “I’m sorry your parents haven’t come to claim you yet. I put an ad in the paper and dropped some flyers around town but . . .” She hugged him and ruffled his soft fur. “I guess I can’t keep calling you pup, can I?”

  Kate shifted the car into drive as he gave a little whine and wagged his tail. A chill engulfed the interior of the car and from the radio, Tom Jones began to sing.

  “Why don’t you call him Tom?”

 
“Mom!” Kate hit the brakes and swung around in her seat. “Where have you been?”

  “Tom’s a good name.”

  “He doesn’t look like a Tom,” Kate said, stroking the puppy’s soft fur.

  “Rover?”

  “No.”

  “Fido?”

  “Come on, Mom. You can be more creative than that.”

  “He’s your dog.”

  Kate glanced down. “He’s not my dog. He belongs to somebody.”

  “Yeah.” Her mother chuckled. “You.”

  “I can’t have a dog. I’m never home.” A niggling misery squeezed her heart when she thought of all those times she was home. And alone. And lonely. “He’s going to grow up and be huge. I couldn’t take him to red carpet events like Paris does her dog-of-the-month. He’d never fit in a purse. He needs a place to run, chase squirrels and be who he really is. He wouldn’t be happy in Hollywood.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Happy in Hollywood?”

  “Well . . . of course I am.”

  Her mother let go a long sigh. “You sure about that?”

  Kate pulled the car to the curb in front of the shop. “Are we back at this again? Why does everyone keep questioning my life?”

  “Why do you keep feeling the need to defend it?”

  Good question. Why did she? Her life in Hollywood was like a giant Scrabble board where she had too many missing pieces to complete the game. All the wham-bam-snap-and-sizzle was there, but too little of the warm and fuzzy. She stroked her hand across the pup’s soft fur. She’d kind of grown fond of warm and fuzzy.

  Kate put the car in park and turned in her seat. The shadows clouding her mother’s eyes knocked the breath from her lungs. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to back you in a corner. Old habits die hard, I guess.” Her mother swept her finger across the empty place where her wedding ring had sat for thirty-six years. “It’s just that . . . I love you, Katherine. And I’m worried about you.”