Harlequin Special Edition September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Maverick for HireA Match Made by BabyOnce Upon a Bride

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Harlequin Special Edition September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Maverick for HireA Match Made by BabyOnce Upon a Bride Page 5

by Leanne Banks


  After scarfing down a half sandwich, then splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth and applying lipstick, she raced to the bar. She spotted Brent at a table with two beers. He waved and stood, and she walked to the table. “Hi. It’s been a crazy day. How about you?” she asked.

  Brent pulled out a chair for her. “Not bad for a Monday in Rust Creek Falls,” he said and sat down to take a sip of his beer. “My son got a good report from school, and I took him for a burger at that fast-food place on the way to Kalispell.”

  “Did you get him a milkshake?” she asked.

  He smiled and nodded. “I sure did.”

  “Good dad,” she said.

  His smile faded slightly. “I’m working on it. What made your day so crazy?”

  “Cupcakes. Lots of cupcakes and a renovation I’m directing just outside town,” she said and took a sip of her beer.

  “Cupcakes,” he repeated. “And you didn’t bring any for me?”

  She couldn’t help but be amused. “Sorry. I imagine they’re mostly gone.”

  “Then maybe you’ll have to make it up to me,” he said.

  Cecelia felt a slice of discomfort and swallowed a gulp of air. “Um—”

  “You’ll have to bring me a few cupcakes next time you make them,” he said.

  Relief rushed through her. “Oh, right. I’ll try and do that,” she said and took another sip of her beer.

  “Good,” he said and smiled. “Hey, you play darts?”

  “A little,” she said.

  “Wanna play?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said and they headed to the bar to get their darts.

  Two hours later, Brent escorted her back to the rooming house. The silence felt a bit awkward. They stopped at the bottom of the steps to the house.

  Brent shoved his hands into his pockets. “You could have told me you were a dart shark,” he said.

  She bit her lip. “Sorry. It was natural instinct.”

  “You really whipped my butt,” he said.

  Cecelia said nothing, because well, she had indeed whipped his butt.

  “I’ll get you next time,” he said and kissed her on her cheek then walked away.

  Cecelia blinked. A gentleman, she thought. How refreshing. She smiled to herself and bounded up the steps and into the house. She heard Melba watching the television.

  “Is that you, Cecelia girl?” Melba called.

  “It’s me,” she called and entered the den.

  “Have you been out with a man?” Melba asked.

  “I have,” Cecelia said and giggled. “And he’s pretty nice.”

  Melba smiled. “Well, good for you. It’s about time. You have a good night, you hear?”

  “I will,” Cecelia said. “You, too.” She ran upstairs and nearly collided with Nick.

  “Whoa,” he said, steadying her with his hands. “What’s the rush?”

  “Nothing,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless. “Just got home.”

  “Oh, really?” he said, studying her carefully. “Where have you been?”

  “Just at the bar. Kicking Brent’s butt at darts,” she said, unable to contain her glee. “I think he may have been a little peeved, but he acted like he still wants to see me again.” She giggled and stopped abruptly because she wasn’t the giggly type.

  Nick wagged his finger. “Don’t trust him too much,” he told her.

  “Give me a break. He kissed me on the cheek,” she said and raced up the rest of the stairs.

  “The cheek is the first step,” he called after her.

  “Chill out, big bro. It’s not even first base,” she said and went into her room and closed the door behind her. This was getting fun, she thought. She might even put on a skirt or dress soon.

  Two days later, she received a text from Nick. I have another prospect for you, it read. Tonight at the doughnut shop at 6 p.m. His name is Darrell.

  “Darrell,” she murmured to herself and shrugged. Another night out.

  As usual, she didn’t have a lot of time, so she splashed her face with water, grabbed a half sandwich and put on her red lipstick. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she walked to the bakery and looked around. She spotted a man wearing a Stetson in the back of the doughnut shop and wondered what she should do.

  The man rose and walked toward her. Wow, she thought. He was pretty hot.

  “I’m Darrell,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “Are you Cecelia?”

  She bit her lip to keep from wincing at his squeaky voice. “Um, yes.” She extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry I can’t stay long. Early morning for me tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “We can get together another time. Which doughnut do you want?”

  Cecelia turned to the bakery case and checked out the selection. “Chocolate frosting,” she said. “What about you?”

  Darrell shrugged. “I don’t eat sugar,” he said. “Bad for the body.” He flexed his muscles and she could tell that he was one of those guys who spent a lot of time working out.

  This was going to be a long hour, Cecelia thought. She took her doughnut and cup of hot chocolate and chatted with Darrell for longer than she wanted. As soon as etiquette would allow, she excused herself. “It was great meeting you,” she said.

  “I’ll walk you back to the rooming house,” he offered in his squeaky, soprano voice.

  “Not necessary. I’m working on my running. Gotta keep moving. Thanks bunches,” she said and ran from the doughnut shop. By the time she arrived at the rooming house, she felt as if she were almost going to have a heart attack.

  “That you, Cecelia?” Melba called.

  “It’s me,” Cecelia returned, out of breath.

  “You okay?” Melba asked, appearing in the doorway of her den, a concerned expression on her face.

  “I’m okay.” She took several heaving breaths. “Nick set me up.”

  Melba stared at her. “Was it a good setup?”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Cecelia said, finally catching her breath.

  “Oh, dear. I’m sorry,” she said and gave Cecelia a hug.

  Cecelia hugged the sweet woman in return. “Thanks. You can help me kill him tomorrow.”

  Melba laughed. “I’ll let you be in charge of that. Good night, darling.”

  “’Night,” Cecelia said and slowly made her way upstairs. She dived into her shower and savored the spray on her face and body. Two dates in a week. The second one hadn’t worked out, but things were still looking up. She wondered why she didn’t feel more optimistic. Why couldn’t the men she met be just a little more like Nick?

  Cecelia panicked at the thought. No, no, no. She took a deep breath and told herself it wasn’t Nick that she wanted. She just wanted someone like him. Who was overwhelmingly attracted to her and open to commitment.

  * * *

  Nick’s brother Dean had invited him for dinner several times, but he’d always been too busy to accept. Nick finally showed up on a Thursday evening. He climbed the steps of the porch to the cozy four-bedroom house and knocked on the door. Dean had married single-mother Shelby last year, and the newest branch of the Pritchett family—including Shelby’s daughter, Caitlin—were as close as Nick had ever seen.

  The door opened and Caitlin appeared, now a cute six-year-old wearing braids. “Uncle Nick,” she said, with a broad smile on her face.

  “Hi, Caitlin,” he said, grinning in return. “I like your braids,” he said and gave one a gentle tug.

  “My mom did them. My dad isn’t very good at braiding,” she said in a whisper.

  “I won’t tell,” Nick whispered back.

  “Come on in,” Shelby called from another room.

  Nick caught a whiff of home-coo
ked food and drooled. “Smells good,” he said, walking toward the dining area.

  His brother Dean walked toward him from the hallway. “How’s it going?” Dean asked.

  “Not bad,” Nick said, patting his brother on the back.

  Dean looked at Nick. “I’m surprised you’re still in town. I thought you would have gone back to Thunder Canyon.”

  Both Dean and Nick had temporarily relocated as volunteers in Rust Creek Falls after the terrible flood. Their father had founded Pritchett & Sons Woodworking in Thunder Canyon, and their other brother, Cade, had stayed behind with his family to keep the business going.

  Dean had fallen for Shelby, and their family was happy in Rust Creek Falls.

  “I like the people here,” Nick said. “I didn’t expect to like it so much, but I do. Plus, now I have my contracting business. Amazing what a little ad in the Rust Creek Rambler can do for you.”

  Dean chuckled. “Sounds like you’re keeping busy.”

  “I am. And if I’m lucky, I may find a piece of land for myself,” he said.

  “Sounds serious,” Dean said.

  Nick cracked a half grin. “I try not to be too serious,” he said. “Life’s too short for that.”

  “Have you talked to Dad about it?” Dean asked.

  “Yeah. He groaned and grumbled a little bit then told me to stop by now and then because Cade and Holly would miss me,” Nick said of his brother and sister who still lived in Thunder Canyon.

  Dean nodded. “Sounds like Dad. He changed after Mom died. He just can’t seem to express much affection.”

  “Nope, but raising us through our teen years without her had to be tough,” Nick said. The sudden death of their mother had left a hole in the family that had never been filled again.

  “I made a beef stew in the Crock-Pot,” Shelby called as she walked from the kitchen to the dining area. Nick was thankful for the interruption. “I hope that works for you.”

  “Anything you make works for me,” he said to his sister-in-law.

  She smiled in response. “You’re a flatterer.”

  “Me?” he said, putting his hand to his chest. “I’m just a grateful bachelor.”

  “You don’t have to be a bachelor,” Shelby said. “You could have just about any woman you want as a wife.”

  “That would involve marriage,” Nick said. “And the thought of marriage makes me sick. Please don’t ruin this good meal.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Have a seat. I won’t hassle you anymore.”

  Nick sat down with Dean’s family and enjoyed the meal.

  Toward the end, Dean quizzed him. “So, what kind of place are you looking for?”

  “Just a few acres. Land first, house later. I won’t be moving out of the rooming house anytime soon.”

  Dean gave a slow nod. “No special woman?” he asked.

  Nick laughed. “No chance. I’ll let the rest of you get married. Looks boring to me.”

  Shelby reentered the room and hugged Dean from behind. “We’re anything but boring.”

  Nick covered his ears in mock humor. “No, no.”

  “You’re just jealous,” she said.

  She was joking, but he felt the stab from her comment deep inside him. Nick avoided commitment because he’d experienced far too much pain when he’d been younger. He and his family rarely discussed the loss of his mother, but it hovered there, always in the background. Through the loss of his mother, he’d learned that nothing was certain. He could depend on no one except himself.

  * * *

  The next morning, Cecelia grabbed breakfast because she wanted a real meal. Thankfully, Melba always put out a terrific spread for her guests. Eggs, pancakes, bacon—and superstrong coffee.

  “Eat up,” Beth said as she dished more eggs onto Cecelia’s plate. “You’ve earned it.”

  “I’m working on it,” she said. “Thank you again for taking those cupcakes to the Duncans. How did that go?”

  “Fine,” Beth said, diverting her gaze. “Now eat your breakfast.”

  Cecelia wondered at the cook’s response, but was hungry enough that she didn’t want her food to grow cold. She savored her eggs and blueberry pancakes. Yum.

  “So, how’d you like Darrell?” a very familiar voice asked.

  Cecelia nearly choked on her pancake as she met Nick’s gaze as he sat across from her with his own plate. “What?”

  “Darrell. How’d you like him?” he asked.

  “He was very nice,” she said.

  Nick frowned. “Why doesn’t ‘nice’ sound good?”

  “Because he sounded like a cartoon mouse,” she said.

  Nick’s frown deepened. “I didn’t know a deep voice was a requirement.”

  “It isn’t,” she said. “But I can’t kiss a cartoon mouse without laughing.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to be this particular,” he said.

  She smiled. “I guess it’s one of my charms,” she said with a smile and took another bite of a blueberry pancake.

  Chapter Four

  “G’day,” a male voice said to Cecelia as she inspected a kitchen countertop.

  In those two syllables, she detected an accent. “Yes?” She looked up into the eyes of a tanned man wearing a hat that wasn’t a Stetson.

  “I’m Liam Mayer. My mum lives down the road. I’m in town to do some work on her house. I was wondering if someone could tell me where to find building materials,” he said. “I drove by and noticed you were working here, so I thought I would ask.”

  “What kind of building materials?” she asked.

  “I need to replace her kitchen and bathroom floors, and her countertops,” he said, waving his hand toward her.

  “Kalispell will be your best bet. Unfortunately, we’re rather limited here in Rust Creek Falls.”

  “Thank you,” he said, his accent still evident.

  Cecelia hesitated a half beat. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are you from?”

  “Australia,” he said, pushing back his hat that wasn’t a Texan. “My brother and I own a cattle ranch there. My brother has a wife and kids, so I had to come over here to help out my mum. She’s so stubborn. Determined to stay here in Montana since my dad died a few years ago.”

  “Your father was Australian?” she asked.

  “Through and through,” he said. “How did a beautiful woman like you end up at a construction site?”

  Cecelia couldn’t contain a laugh. “Oh, thank you. Very nice,” she said. “Do you need something from me?”

  He looked at her, perplexed. “Not really. You’ve already told me where to get building materials.” He paused. “Can you tell me where to get a beer?”

  She nodded. “Ace in the Hole. It’s a bare-bones bar in Rust Creek Falls. Nothing fancy.”

  “I don’t need fancy,” he said. “I just need to get out every now and then.”

  Cecelia smiled. “I’m not familiar with your mom. What is her name?”

  “Sadie,” he said. “Sadie Mayer. She settled here within the past year. Her health has been up and down. We begged her to stay in Australia, but she said the ranch was too isolated.”

  Cecelia chuckled. “And Rust Creek Falls isn’t?”

  He shrugged. “It’s illusion. She just felt there was more available to her in the U.S., even though she has grandchildren in Australia.”

  “Maybe she’ll change her mind,” she said.

  Liam sighed. “We can only hope. In the meantime, I’m here to visit and make her home a little more livable.”

  “You’re a good son,” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m cursing every step of the way. Any chance you’ll have a beer with me at the...what was it called again?”<
br />
  “Ace in the Hole,” she said, smiling. “Sure. Give me a few minutes. I need to check a few more things before I leave.”

  “Are you actually doing work here?” he asked curiously.

  “I could,” she said. “But lately I’ve been a general contractor on these jobs. I make sure everything gets done.”

  He gave a slow nod. “Good on you,” he said.

  Good on me, she thought. She kinda liked that. She didn’t feel as if he was hitting on her. “Give me a few minutes,” she said.

  “Yeah, yeah. No worries,” he said and prowled around the kitchen and den of the renovated house.

  Cecelia rechecked the countertop for the next several moments. “Okay, I’m done. Still want to drive into Rust Creek Falls?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Can I drive you there?”

  “No,” she said and laughed. “I don’t know you well enough.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Not that much. I’ve seen too many horror movies,” she said.

  He chuckled. “I like that. I’ll have to tell my mum I scared a local girl. She’ll love it.”

  His comment made her trust him more, but not enough to ride with him. Besides, she needed to get her truck back in town. “Follow me,” she said and locked the door after they exited the house.

  Cecelia half wondered if Liam would actually follow her to the bar. He was definitely different from most of the guys in Rust Creek Falls. Surprisingly enough, he drove into the parking lot behind her. Maybe he just wanted to talk to someone besides his mother every once in a while, she thought and got out of her car.

  Liam quickly met up with her. “Nice of you to take pity on me for the evening.”

  “Pity’s my middle name,” she said with a smile and led the way into the rowdy bar. “Beer, peanuts, darts and a jukebox.”

  “I’ll buy a beer,” he said. “Two.”

 

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