Delighting Miss Daisy [Wayback Texas Series]
Page 2
Katherine nodded, opening her beaded designer bag. Daisy prepared a cup of Earl Grey tea and arranged the pear tart on a plate as she counted out Katherine's change.
"She's happy. Of course, if she'd listen to my suggestions we could make a nicer profit. She's so far behind the times. The place needs more than a structural facelift; it needs a complete makeover. That's what I'm finding so frustrating."
Daisy deposited the money in the cash register. “Miss Emma is pretty set in her ways. That reminds me.” She rushed to the industrial fridge. Pulling out a pecan pie, she set it before Katherine with a flourish.
Before taking a bite from the tart, Katherine went back into her bag. “I don't remember ordering a pie, or Aunt Emma ordering one either. I might have though—I've had so much on my mind lately."
"Oh no,” Daisy said, shaking her head and briefly covering Katherine's hand with her own. “There's no charge. It's a gift. I meant to give this to her the last time I saw her. Tell her I say hello, and to enjoy it. I know pecan is her absolute favorite. Miss Emma and my mama were good friends years ago. It's my mama's recipe."
Katherine smiled, closing her bag. “Thanks. I'll do that. You have no idea of how stubborn she can be. I suggested creating a web site to advertise the Dewdrop Inn and she turned me down flat. Said we get enough tourists from the rodeo."
Daisy could well imagine Emily Clement doing just that. The older woman was a pillar of the community, loved by townspeople and tourists alike for her friendly yet no-nonsense personality. Once her mind was made up, there was no changing it. Her niece appeared to be of the same make up.
"Can't make her give an inch. My advice?” Daisy leaned in closer, hiding a secretive grin. “Be subtle about it. A website would be a wonderful idea for the inn. She has barely anyone from the end of the rodeo until it starts back up again in March. That's three, four months without bringing in a profit, which is probably no big loss for her, but who doesn't need business? I sure as heck wouldn't turn it down. I've been thinking of getting a webpage for this place."
"Finally.” Katherine threw up her hands. “Another intelligent businesswoman I can speak to about the woes of making money in a small town. You've already got your hands full with this place. Ever think about hiring on some help? This would be a great employment opportunity for local kids, especially if you're thinking of using the web to advertise. It would be a lot of work for just one woman."
Daisy perched on the edge of her seat facing Katherine. “I have a few high school kids that come in during the afternoons after school during the rodeo season since that's the busiest time for me. Other than that, it's just me and Naomi Laughton, my assistant."
Katherine's normally cool demeanor became animated as she leaned forward in her seat. Pressing her elbows on the edge of the counter, she spoke in excited tones, her green eyes sparkling. “This has been killing me. I don't usually go crazy over the guests. I see that they're settled in and comfortable, but I don't get all friendly with them. I thought you might appreciate a little gossip."
"Do tell. I'm always willing to listen. I bet Miss Emma's had some pretty fascinating guests over at the Dewdrop over the years. What makes this particular one so interesting?” Daisy fixed herself a cup of mint tea.
"Well, if you want to include that gentleman with the briefcase attached to his hip and flyers coming out of his butt, he's been about the only wannabe celebrity that we've had in a while. However,” she sniffed, “I see him as nothing more than a salesman with an ego like Simon Cowell, but without the polish. Though he has more charm."
Daisy laughed. Katherine's evaluation of Sam Howard's attributes was right on. “Okay, spill it, Katherine. Who is this mysterious guest?"
Katherine turned around on the stool and peered out at the almost deserted Main Street. After scanning the sidewalk in front of the bakery, Katherine turned back. She leaned in close over the counter to whisper, “We have a famous celebrity staying with us. I don't even know who it is. No one does except my aunt."
"Are you asking me to guess? It could be any number of people—rodeo cowboys or even country singers. Heck, Wayback even has a few celebs of its own. My sister Sherrie is a model. Stella Ridge, the actress, is from a ranch nearby. Why is your aunt insisting on keeping their identity a secret?"
Katherine rolled her eyes as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “She said we should give the girl her privacy, but she didn't say why. Although Aunt Emma wouldn't. She's the kind of person where honor and keeping one's word mean more than anything. As long as they paid for their time, she'll let them seclude themselves there as long as they'd want."
"Tall, blonde hair, piercing baby blues. That's Sherrie. Stella is—well, I'm sure you know what she looks like from the movies."
Katherine finished her tea. “No, it's not Stella Ridge; I'd recognize her. This woman is blonde, really quiet. Hardly speaks to anyone.” She set her cup down. “I do know she paid for three weeks in advance in cash."
Daisy frowned, refilling the mug. A customer came in. Daisy hurried him along. She wanted to learn more about Katherine and Miss Emma's guest.
It couldn't be Sherrie. She hadn't been back in all the years since she'd left. Daisy remembered the day her little sister and Jake Serrano had left for California. They had been young, attractive, starry-eyed kids with a dream of making it big in Hollywood. Sherrie, so far, had kept her promise of not returning to Wayback.
When they were finally alone again, Daisy brought an unfrosted cake to the counter. She mixed and spread on pink icing as she said, “Well, ain't that something? Wayback has its own celebrity in hiding.” She grabbed a bottle of gold and silver sprinkles. “Wow, three weeks with cash. Whoever-she-is must really want her privacy."
"She sure does. She always wears sunglasses, so to tell the truth, I don't even know what color her eyes are."
Daisy drew a jeweled crown in the center of the cake. “I should drive on over to see who she is for myself. The nosy woman in me is curious.” She added other colorful sprinkles, and the cake looked like a scrumptious fairy tale wonderland. “She really must not want to be recognized. Has Max said anything?” Daisy's brother was a carpenter who did repairs for the inn out of fondness for Miss Emma.
At the mention of her brother's name, Katherine's eyes blazed. Well, well. Looks like he's gotten under your skin already. Daisy had hoped to see some fireworks between the cool, classy lady and her rough-around-the-edges big brother.
"Max hasn't seen her yet. This woman hides in her room most of the time.” Katherine discreetly looked down at her Rolex, then bounded to her feet. Grabbing her purse and pie, she pivoted to the door. “Well I'll be around if you want to drop by after you close up shop for the day.” She sent Daisy a wink and smile from over her left shoulder. Then as an afterthought she said, “If your brother drops by, tell him I need one of the guest rooms painted. He's been dividing his time between the inn and that shop of his. I barely see him."
"I might just stroll on over with a little surprise for you. Max makes an appearance every few days when he has a hankering for a piece of my Wild Wayback chocolate cake, so I'll gladly give him your message. I might just come back with him though. My car's been acting up. Need Max to take a look for me.” Daisy shrugged. “I'm no good when it comes to cars."
Katherine laughed, reaching for the door. “Neither am I. I'm a better businesswoman than a mechanic. Thank you for being so nice to me, Daisy. Some people treat me like I'm an outsider in this town, though the majority have welcomed me with open arms."
"It's no trouble at all, honey.” Daisy sent her a reassuring smile.
She wondered if her older brother was one of those few. Max had been to her shop a few times since Katherine's arrival, and when she'd mentioned the substitute innkeeper, he'd groused about her constant need for organization.
"Don't mind the busybodies around here. I knew we'd be friends the first time we met.” Daisy arched an inquiring brow. “Max wouldn't happen to be one of t
hose treating you so unkindly now would he? I'll brand his hide if he's being inhospitable."
Katherine frowned, shifting the items in her arms. “I don't want to speak ill of your brother. He's a hard worker, but I don't think he likes me too much."
"You never know with Max. It's hard to read him. It takes a while for him to warm up to you, but once he does, you're stuck with him for good."
"And he's easy on the eyes, too.” A blush spread over her peaches-and-cream complexion. “Uh, sorry, just thinking aloud. Forget I said that.” The way Katherine was chewing on her bottom lip, she might end up eating it along with the pie. “I really should go now. Take care and thanks for everything, Daisy."
"I won't forget it. I'm flattered that you like my older brother. I think it's very sweet.” As the door closed behind Katherine, Daisy called out, “I'll see you soon with that surprise."
She watched Katherine dart to her car, and laughed smugly as she finished decorating the cake.
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Chapter Three
A little over a week later, after closing Down Home Delights, Daisy decided to head out to pay Katherine a visit. She lived in a small house on the opposite end of Peach Tree Lane from the inn, so stopping by with a sweet surprise wouldn't take her out of her way.
Knowing Katherine was attracted to her brother, Daisy baked his favorite dessert, a Wild Wayback chocolate cake. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't meddle in their business, but Katherine was perfect for Max. It was time someone gave them a friendly nudge, since whenever she'd seen them individually, all they did was gripe about each other.
Daisy had another delivery to make as well, this one to the school. The marching band would get a kick out of the cake she'd made them. Before driving away, she methodically took down a handful of flyers from in front of the bank. Apparently Sam's student assistants were at it again.
Climbing into her Corvette, a birthday present from Sherrie the year before, Daisy headed down Main Street. The sleek sports car stuck out like a neon sign against the pickup trucks, tractors, and trailers of the town, but Daisy loved it.
Everywhere she looked, Daisy glimpsed flyer after flyer for Sam's Smooth Sliding Ale. She slowed near the town square and the gazebo as a crowd of kids and their teacher crossed in front of her. She honked as a little boy of about ten waved.
I can't believe he allowed those kids to hang his posters all over where the children would see them. Daisy could understand trying to make a living by selling a product, but there were just some places that weren't appropriate for selling alcohol.
As the kids hurried away down the block, Daisy continued on her way out of town.
When she was just under a mile from the school, her car started sputtering. She swerved out of the traffic lane and parked at the side of the road before the engine finally stopped.
She walked around to the front of the Corvette, lifted the hood and peered in. Everything looked normal to her. Wishing she'd paid better attention when Max gave her what he called his 101 on car safety and repair, Daisy swore as she shut the hood and pocketed her keys. She'd have to walk to the school to make her delivery. From there, she'd call Max and ask him to give her a ride to the Dewdrop, since he was the only person in town she'd trust to fix her baby.
She took her deliveries out of the back seat and then closed the door. She loved walking through the countryside in the fall. The light exercise would do her good.
She'd only taken a few steps forward when a black Porsche pulled up beside her. Sam Howard rolled down the passenger side window.
"Not lost, are you?” He winked.
Deciding she hated when he did that, Daisy held the cakes tighter in her hands and shook her head. She was less than a mile from the school. She'd make it just fine.
Sam spent an awful lot of his free time eating at her shop, pretending to be interested in her patrons when all he was doing was schmoozing for business. Daisy did all she could to ignore him.
"Nope, just out for a stroll.” She took one step, then another.
His gaze moved back to her Corvette. “What's wrong with that little beauty of yours? Need me to take a look?"
Before Daisy could refuse, he turned off the ignition and stepped out of the Porsche. He was at her side in an instant, his expensive cologne playing havoc with her nerves.
With the ease of a man who knew what he was doing, Sam moved to the front of her car and popped the hood. Within five seconds his eyes met hers over the boxes in her arms. Daisy quickly lowered her gaze to the load she carried. Seeing her do so, Sam took the cakes from her.
As he'd removed them from her grasp, his fingertips brushed the backs of her hands.
The light contact sent an electric current through Daisy. “Hey, what do you think you're doing? I need those."
He set the cakes on the hood of the Porsche. “Your battery might be shot. Want me to jump you?"
The double entendre wasn't lost on Daisy as she lifted her gaze to his deep brown eyes. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need you to jump my car.” Or me. She retrieved her items from his car.
"How about a ride then?"
"Nope. I don't need that either,” Daisy replied from inside the car.
As she ducked away from the car, Sam towered over her, at her left shoulder, inches separating them. The heel of her left pump caught at the edge of the pavement. Crying out in surprise, Daisy stumbled. Sure, strong hands gripped her just above where hip met waist, digging into her, steadying her.
Daisy gasped audibly at his touch. Her stomach lurched and her heart raced as dread flooded her system. Her grip on the boxes slipped. They fell back to the hood, her cold sweaty palms landing uselessly beside them. Her lungs constricted as she struggled to take in air.
"What happened? Are you alright?"
Daisy heard Sam's concern, but images of another man's hands touching, grabbing, punching her, toppled through her mind. She pressed herself closer against the car, as his arms slid around her waist.
Daisy knew he was trying to help, but her mouth still went dry as her lips parted in a silent scream. Her every breath was weighted with terror that pressed against her lungs.
He'd eaten something greasy for lunch. The odor of deep-fried food hung on his clothing. Her knees buckled and her gag reflex kicked in as she tried to breathe.
The fender dug painfully into her arms. Daisy barely noticed as she pulled herself away. She gave another cry as she fell to her knees in the grass beside the road.
"Are you alright?” She heard the sharp concern in Sam's tone as he knelt beside her, his hand resting warmly on her shoulder. “Did you twist your ankle?"
"Yes. I'm fine.” A hysterical laugh crawled up her throat. Daisy tossed it back down. “My ankle's fine. I'm just a bit of a klutz. That's all.” She spoke vehemently, more to reassure herself than him.
Her heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm as she gulped in air. Daisy wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans. Sam's hands moved to her back where they made soothing circles meant to comfort and reassure. As much as she tried to not think about what else his strong square hands with their long, capable fingers could do, that was exactly where her mind wandered.
His warmth crept under her light top to heat the skin beneath. Daisy stood, and Sam was immediately there to help. He pressed her tight to him from shoulder blade to thigh. This time, though, she wasn't afraid, but aroused.
Something primitive and hot bloomed, spreading inside her as Daisy turned her head to peer up at him. She anxiously ran her tongue over her lips. She watched his gaze travel down to her mouth. He felt it too.
"You sure?” He bent closer, his lips hovering inches from hers.
Daisy's heart went into overdrive again. This time, she couldn't attribute the fluttering in her belly and accelerated heart rate to fear as his mouth drew even closer, his warm breath caressing her face.
Sam's hands stilled on her waist. “Do you need to lean on me, or should I lift you into the ca
r?” That very beautiful mouth with its full lips muttered as his gaze met hers.
Daisy parted her lips to tell him she was just fine, but all that came out was a whoosh of air. She didn't want to think about his strong arms around her, carrying her, or that mouth on hers—that hard, full mouth that she wanted on hers regardless of how much she shouldn't. Sam nearly brought her to her knees again with his voice and hands. They both sent a stream of sensations straight to her core.
"Thanks, I'm fine now.” She tried to keep her voice light, casual as she sent Sam a friendly smile. She stepped back to his car and picked up her boxes.
Daisy had long since learned the consequences of showing vulnerability to a man. That led to experiences she didn't care to repeat—ever. Still, the familiar pull of attraction in her gut made her long to take the risk.
She stared deeply into his eyes and saw the concern mirrored in their depths. She saw no calculation or cruelty, only kindness.
Before she could chicken out, or turn away in fear, Daisy tilted her head, and placed a quick, friendly kiss on his lips. Sam didn't move to deepen the embrace, just stood there with his hands supporting her.
She lifted the boxes, angling them in front of her in a protective gesture as she backed away.
"I'm headed to see Katherine right after I drop off the cake I made at the school. Max was supposed to be there this afternoon. I'll have him take care of my car."
Sam knew she was trying to avoid him. A nice tingle had gone through him as he'd held her soft curves and felt her firm lips shyly probe his. She was a perfect fit for his hands. He wouldn't mind holding her again, and more. But something was wrong.
She was interested, but afraid. He'd heard her soft gasp as he'd grabbed her, and felt her stiffen at his touch. As she'd turned and looked at him over her shoulder, he'd seen the wary look in her eyes. It was the expression of a helpless animal caught in the harsh beam of headlights. Sam wanted to know who had put it there.