by Anna Sugden
“Oh. Oh, well, okay. That’s okay. You don’t have to like everything.”
“Good.” He nodded, his eyes all but boring holes into hers. “Is there anything I do that you don’t like?”
“Like keeping your pants on?”
“I’m serious. I want to be clear and honest. I want...” He trailed off, gaze still blazing into hers. It reminded her of that night after the Liz run-in when he’d been all fierce and determined. But this wasn’t about Liz. It was about her.
It was about them.
And she was in the vortex again, sinking under all the amazing things he was, but this time she wanted to fight the panic instead of what she might feel for him.
“No. Nothing yet. I’d tell you.”
“Good. Good.” And then he kissed her, softly. Unbearably sweet.
“Are you sure we can do this?” She wanted to be sure, but how, when she’d never done it before?
“I’m sure we should try. Really try. You?”
She nodded, slowly at first, then more emphatically. “Yes,” she said on little more than a whisper. Yes, she wanted to try. A real relationship. And believe she wouldn’t ruin everything, that she might make mistakes, but it would be okay. It would be fine.
Because that’s how life worked.
“I want to try.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I’M TIRED OF SUMMER,” Cara whined, collapsing onto her couch. She was sweaty and sticky, thanks to the air conditioner at her apartment breaking down in the middle of pie baking today.
“I thought summer was your favorite season.”
She draped her arm over her forehead. “Just looking at your beard makes me sweaty.”
“I don’t know what my beard making you all hot and bothered has anything to do with summer.”
Cara grinned. Four months of dating Wes—her longest relationship by far—and it still amazed her when he made jokes like that. He amazed her in a lot of ways. He made her think about the L word, which made her feel itchy and uncomfortable.
But she wasn’t going to panic. She’d take the L word business one day at a time.
He rocked back on his heels and frowned at the air-conditioning unit. “You’re going to have to call the landlord.”
“Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. I still have four pies to bake.” On a Tuesday, because with the summer fruits available, Sam had asked her to add two weekdays to her supply schedule. Even hot, sweaty and achy from bending over the counter to perfect a lattice, she’d had to grin at that.
Sam was talking about doing pie service every night. Damn if things weren’t going perfectly. All she’d had to do was believe they could. All she had to do was believe that things would be okay, regardless. Imagine that.
“You could bake them at my place. And spend the night.”
“Oh, gee, as if I don’t do that enough.”
He grinned, nudging her over so he had a sliver of cushion to sit on. “You’re welcome to stay here and sweat to death.”
She sat up and tugged on his beard. “Shave. Feel the cool air on your face.”
“What happened to your pro-beard agenda?”
“It’s too hot to be pro-beard. Besides, I think the beard loses some effectiveness without the flannel.” She could already imagine Wes’s cool, dark, private cabin. Funny how it had become her favorite place. Exactly what she wanted.
Then she remembered it was Tuesday. “Oh, crud, I promised I’d have dinner at home tonight. You could come, and then we could head out to your place after.”
He stiffened like he always did. She tried not to care like she always did. That was relationships, right? Nothing was perfect, but you ignored it. Didn’t panic or get upset. Just dealt. Or something.
“The dogs. I have that conference call at six.”
“I still don’t understand how you can have a weekly conference call about dog treats. That’s, like, overkill, isn’t it?” She wasn’t cranky that he was circumnavigating going to her parents’ house again. She didn’t care. Nope. It was good this way. Who knew what Mom would think of him? Mom had barely warmed up to Dell, and he was charming, personable and clean shaven.
“It’s not about the treats. It’s about profits and supplies and stuff.”
“Right.” She rolled her shoulders because she was not tense or irritated by all that vague stuff. She was possibly, maybe in the L word with him, and she was not going to mess that up by being needy.
Not when he was so sweet. A good guy. She was with a good guy who did nice things like try to fix her air-conditioning and offer his kitchen for pie making and take in every stray that walked in his path.
So what if he wouldn’t eat dinner with her crazy family? One flaw. She was not going to make a deal out of it.
“Well, I guess if the landlord can’t get someone to fix it today, I’ll come out after dinner. If that’s okay?”
“That is always okay.” He pushed to his feet. “You know what? I’ll go buy you a fan. It’ll at least get the air circulating.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be gone by four. Plenty of time.”
“You don’t have to—”
But he cut her off with a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He strode out the door, leaving her feeling...
She didn’t know. She felt unsatisfied and irritated at herself for the feeling, since he was going to buy her a fan; but no matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it, the dissatisfaction remained.
* * *
WES TRIED TO concentrate on Mom’s words about some company she saw as his competition. Considering the company was in Wisconsin, he was having trouble seeing the point.
More, it was hard to concentrate on that stuff when he’d lied to Cara. Again. For a while there he’d been able to justify it to himself. The first month or two. He and Mom mostly talked business, so it was a conference call of sorts.
But he’d seen the way her face fell when he’d said no to dinner at her parents’ again, and he hated being that guy. He hated the way it had become a pattern, one he didn’t know how to break. Because he also hated the idea of having to make small talk with anyone, especially people he would be trying to impress.
He liked what they’d created. Their relationship, and the dog treat sales had increased just by incorporating Anna’s logo.
He didn’t want to risk that for anything, and he had a bad feeling that getting in a five-foot radius of anyone she cared about would do just that.
“Wes? Are you listening?”
“Yes. Yeah. Right.” He forced himself to look at the screen and Mom’s overly hopeful face. The usual headache began drumming harder. He needed this to be over.
“So, you’ll be home? The twenty-third. Three o’clock?”
“What? Yeah. Sure.” Wait, was that Cara’s car outside? She was way early. Shit.
“Wes?”
“Mom, I have to go.” He stood, ready to snap the laptop shut.
“We have to talk about the buyout offer, Wes. They want an answer by tomorrow.”
“I’m not selling, Mom.” Cara stepped out of her car. “I have to go.”
“Let me explain why it’s such a great opportunity. Please.” The imploring note in her voice, the please. He couldn’t hang up on her, but Cara was walking up to the cabin, Sweetness prancing at her feet.
“Give me a second.”
He hurried to the front door, a panic he didn’t understand working through him. This wasn’t a big deal. He could explain everything to Cara. It didn’t have to be this cover-up he couldn’t seem to help himself from enacting.
When he flung the door open, Cara was already on the porch.
She smiled. “Hey, that’s quite a greeting.”
He tried to smile back but knew he failed. “Um, I’m still finishing up. Do you think you could head out to the barn?”
Her whole face changed—just like that the smile and the happiness melted away. “Excuse me?”
“Put Monster on the runner. Get Shrimp some more water. U
m, you know, to help me out.”
She didn’t move. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest, swallowing before she spoke. “It’d be that terrible if I, someone you happen to employ, as well as sleep with, overheard your business talk?”
“No, I’d be distracted and, um—” he gestured uselessly at the cabin “—there’s some talk of mergers and buyouts, and I need to concentrate.”
Her brows drew together, and she looked at the cabin, then over at the barn. “All right,” she said quietly. “Come on, Sweet.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Why was he doing this? He should come clean.
But the reality of that made his gut tighten and head pound even harder.
He’d gotten over his initial insecurity when it came to Cara. He was a decent guy, and she’d helped him through a lot of stuff and he’d helped her, too, which was some kind of miracle. But they’d made each other better, and he hadn’t worried he wasn’t good enough for her for a while.
Except when it came to this. Why would she want to be with a guy who hadn’t worked out all his issues with his mother? Or worse, what if Cara wanted him to accept the way Mom treated him, as if he were broken?
He had to keep the things separate. He had to. Things would be all jumbled otherwise, and he liked things as they were. Things were perfect the way they were, aside from his hand.
He trudged back into the house and his office. Mom was still on the screen, but she was smiling at someone off to the side.
“Bring her to dinner,” she said to the person off screen.
“You sure?”
Wes didn’t recognize the voice, but he had a pretty good idea it was one of his stepbrothers, whom he’d only ever awkwardly talked to via video call.
“Mom.”
Mom returned her attention to him, all smiles. “There you are. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, someone trying to sell something.”
Mom cocked her head. “You know, you’ve been so much more relaxed lately. I thought maybe you’d made some friends. Maybe a lady friend. Your brother was telling me about his new girlfriend.”
Not my brother, Wes wanted to say.
“Back to selling. I don’t want to. I know you think it’d set me up nicely and help pay for the surgery, but that’s what insurance and VA stuff is for. I like having this to work on. To do.”
“Well, I know, but you’re always complaining about the organizing and whatnot, I thought maybe someone could take over the business end and—”
“I don’t want that,” he snapped, more irritated than soothed when Phantom rested a head on his knee.
“Okay. I’ll tell them no, then.” She offered a small smile. “And I’ll let you go. Just don’t forget about the twenty-third?”
Twenty-third? He didn’t remember what she’d said. “Sure. Yeah.”
“All right. I love you, baby. Talk next week.”
“Yeah, you, too. Bye.” He slapped the laptop shut.
He had trouble saying I love you to his own mother and couldn’t escape the jealousy he had for her new life, even when he had things going well in his own. What was he doing, trying to...?
He took a deep breath. He wasn’t letting himself go down that road. Right or wrong, four months with Cara in his life—he wasn’t giving that up.
All he had to do was keep the bad stuff he didn’t want to handle separate. And things would keep being fine.
He stood and went out to the barn to find her. To make it right. He was good at that when it came to her.
She stood in the setting sun, throwing a ratty rope bone to Monster. The other dogs, except Phantom, who was standing at his side, were yipping, running and playing. Everything glowed in the summer evening, and everything he wanted was right here and he wished he had an idea how to make that permanent. Maybe he needed more time. More practice. And if or when Cara told him she loved him, maybe he could say the words.
She shaded her eyes against the sun, looking at him and then back at the dogs. He couldn’t make out her expression until he got closer.
Sad. Damn it.
“Done with your important business?” She was trying to ask nicely but couldn’t resist a little snip in her tone.
He deserved every bit of it. “Yeah, I told them I’m happy with the way things are. No merger. No buyout.”
“Great.”
Yeah, he didn’t think so. “I’m sorry. It was an important discussion, and I needed to concentrate.” Not a lie. Not a lie.
Liar.
She poked at a tuft of grass with her toe. Nails painted bright turquoise, flip-flops covered in colorful jewel things.
“I guess I get it.”
“So, you’re not upset? Because you are important to Stone. You’ve done so much to help me. I don’t want you to feel as though you’re...”
She looked up at him with pursed lips. “I dated this guy once. I really liked him,” she suddenly said. He didn’t know what this had to do with him. He didn’t particularly care to hear about the other guys she’d been with.
“It was kind of a thing when he asked me out because he was older, and I’d had a crush on him since high school. Anyway, he asked me out, he hadn’t broken up with this mutual friend of ours like he said he had, and I was basically a prop to enact some revenge on her. The point is—” she looked up, her gaze zeroing in on him, all serious and determined and hurt “—I don’t like being shut out. Or lied to. It’s a shit feeling to be tricked, and even if that’s not what you’re doing, it’s what it feels like.”
“I would never. Even if I could, Cara—”
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. I know you’re not doing anything nasty. This does hurt, though. To be kept separate.” Her gaze dropped. “Even if that’s needy or whatever, it does hurt. I want to be honest about that. I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her mouth kind of quirked at that. “You’re a very good apologizer, you know that? I always believe you.”
“I always mean it.” He took a few steps closer. “There are a few things I’m still getting used to sharing.”
She glanced at Phantom pressed against his legs. “Head, hand or hip?”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she crossed to him and touched his forehead. “You get this line right here when it’s your head.” She smoothed her thumb over a crease in his forehead, and then she sighed. “Look, it’s okay. Really. Maybe try to open up a little bit more.”
“I will.”
She stared up at him in silence for a while, eyebrows drawn together as if she were trying to figure him out.
Good luck there.
“You’re going to come to the wedding, right?” Her voice was soft. Uncertain. So unlike Cara. “Mia and Dell’s wedding? I know I haven’t officially asked, but you will, won’t you? It’s only a month away, and Mia wanted a head count. So, you’ll come, right? Be my date?”
Suits and people and a wedding. Jesus, he didn’t want to have to deal with that. Especially since Cara was in the wedding, so he’d be the weirdo in the corner. Making her look bad.
But while he might not be the brightest when it came to relationships, he wasn’t stupid enough to think no would be an okay answer.
“I put it in your calendar, and I know you don’t have anything else that day and I need to know you’ll do this for me.” Her voice broke, and he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s important,” she squeaked. “Even if it seems dumb to you.”
“Hey, I’ll come.” He cupped her face, making sure to look her in the eye. “I’m coming. It’s in my calendar. I’m there.”
She nodded, chewing on her lip. “You promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.” He’d regret that. Hell, he regretted it already, but he’d regret her walking away a lot more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CARA WALKED INTO the back door of Edibles with a stack of pies. Sam had supplied her with boxes. Adorable boxes that said Edibles Restaur
ant. All local, all the time. Pies by Cara.
That’s how he displayed them, too. At least until they ran out for the night, which they did more nights than not.
She had never known how flipping awesome success could be, especially success at something she loved. It made everything else feel good, too, her shiny little gold star. Even Mom was impressed, and that was like impressing the pope.
“Hey, Cara.” Sam greeted her with a wave while he stirred something with the other hand. “Drop those off with Curt, then I want to talk to you if you have a sec.”
“Um, sure.” Not at all scary or intimidating. Her mind certainly didn’t jump to him firing her. Nope. She was way too secure for that.
Maybe he didn’t like the idea of her freezing pies next week for the weekend of Mia’s wedding. Maybe he was going to demand she work that weekend. Maybe...
Oh, get a grip.
She returned to Sam, determined to be cool, poised, professional and adult.
Man, that was a lot of things to be. “So, things are good?” she asked, hoping it didn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded to her own ears.
“Great, actually. Summer has been awesome. Your pies have been a hit.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
“The apple crop is starting out great this year, too. Can’t ask for things to be going much better.”
“Great. You, um, wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, you know, I’d like to keep offering pies through winter. Pie is such a comfort food, and local winter cuisine definitely won’t be our biggest seller. I’d like to see you supplying for us year-round. All dinner services.”
Cara could have hugged him. But she was cool. Poised. Whatever. “I’d be very interested in that.” Look at you, sounding all businessy.
“Let’s set up a meeting, then, go over the details. I have some addenda to our previous agreement, and we’ll need to discuss numbers and contracts. I know you’re busy with Mia’s wedding, but a little bit after that, maybe? Last week of October? Monday morning?”