by Donna Alward
As though reading her thoughts, he lowered his head. Thankfully she didn’t have to test her resolution. As light as a breeze, his lips brushed hers.
He pulled back ever so slightly. A frustrated groan clogged her throat. He couldn’t stop yet. She needed more. Something hot and steamy to fill the long lonely nights ahead of her.
“Kiss me again,” she murmured over the pounding of her heart. “Kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.”
His breath was rushed as it brushed her cheek. “You’re sure?”
“Stop talking and press your lips to mine.”
In the driver’s seat, she reveled in the exhilaration of telling Cash what she desired. His eyes flared with passion before he obliged her by running his lips tentatively over hers. A moan swelled inside her and vibrated in her throat.
When he pulled back and sent her a questioning gaze, she said, “Again.”
His mouth pressed to hers with urgency this time. As their kiss deepened excitement sparked and exploded inside her like a Roman candle. He sought out her tongue with his. He tasted fresh and minty. Her arms trailed around his neck and she sidled up against him. She wanted more of him—so much more.
In the background, she heard a bowl hit the countertop with a thud before his hands slid around her waist. His fingertips slipped beneath the hem of her top to stroke her tender flesh. She lifted her legs and wrapped them about his waist, never moving her mouth from his. His kisses were sweeter than honey and she was on a sugar high. She’d never get enough of him. Ever.
Just then it sounded like someone had cleared their throat, but Cash didn’t miss a beat as he rained down sweet kisses on her. Obviously she’d been hearing things. She let herself once again be swept away in the moment.
“Excuse me?” The sound of Martha’s voice startled Meghan, ending the kiss. “I hate to intrude, but I think something is burning.”
Meghan lowered her feet to the floor as a blaze of heat flamed up her neck and set her cheeks on fire. She felt like a naughty teenager, having just been busted making out with the hottest guy in school.
“You need to do something with the stove.” Martha pointed over Meghan’s shoulder. “Dinner is going to be ruined.”
“Dinner!” Meghan shrieked, coming out of her desire-induced trance.
She rushed to the stove, glad to have a reason not to face Martha. She had no excuse for losing her mind and begging Cash to kiss her. Between the steam from her sauce and the heat from her utter mortification she thought she was going to melt.
“Gram...we...um...didn’t know it was so late,” Cash stuttered.
“Obviously. Good thing I showed up before this place went up in smoke.”
Martha’s voice held a note of amusement, which only added to Meghan’s discomfort.
Though the bottom layer of the Dijon sauce was burnt, she was able to ladle off enough for the three of them. Thankfully Martha didn’t make a fuss about the scene she’d walked in on. In fact she seemed rather pleased with the idea—mistaken though it was—that they were a couple.
Someone needed to set Martha straight, but with Meghan’s lips still tingling and her heart doing double-time she couldn’t lie to the woman. There was no way she’d be able to convince anyone that the kiss had meant nothing to her. In fact it’d shaken her to her core.
Instead of saying goodbye, it had been more like hello.
* * *
Please ring.
Meghan lifted the phone Friday morning and checked for a dial tone. Satisfied it still worked since she’d checked it a half hour ago, she hung up. What was the problem? Why hadn’t she heard about the job yet?
Maybe it was bad news and they were dragging their feet about making an uncomfortable call. Her stomach plummeted. Or it could be good news and they were notifying all of the other candidates first. Her spirits rose a little.
She sighed. Staring at the phone wouldn’t make it ring. She needed to get busy if she was going to maintain her sanity. After all, there was a pile of dirty laundry with her name on it.
She’d just started up the stairs when the chime of the phone filled the air. Like a sprinter, she set off for the kitchen.
She paused, gathered herself, and blew out a deep breath.
“Hello?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.
“Good morning, Ms. Finnegan. This is Tex Northridge...”
In her frenzied mind his words merged into an excited blur. However, she caught the most important part—she’d got the job!
Her heart thump-thumped with excitement. She grinned until her cheeks grew tired. She couldn’t wait to tell Cash the news.
In the end, the position had come down to her and one other. It was her sample menu with its unique flair which she’d thought to include with her résumé that had tipped the balance in her favor. She would be the executive chef.
Still in a daze, she hung up the phone. At last she had what she’d wanted since she’d arrived at the Tumbling Weed—a new beginning for herself and the baby. She should be bubbling over with joy, but as her gaze moved around the room which had come to feel like home to her the smile slid from her face.
It was more than the house—it was Cash. Now that she had a job the time had come for her to leave...leave him. The thought tugged at her heart.
She shoved aside her tangle of feelings for the cowboy and forced her thoughts back to her new job. Her mouth gaped open when she realized in her excitement that she’d forgotten to ask how soon Mr. Northridge would need a full menu to approve. She immediately called back.
“I thought Cash would have told you,” Mr. Northridge said. “We have the ribbon cutting coming up in a few weeks. We need to have everything in place by then.”
Cash was involved in her getting this job? Her heart rammed into her throat, choking her. How? Why? Questions bombarded her. She choked down her rising emotions. There had to be a mistake.
“Cash knows?”
“Well, sure. We go back a long way, to when he was a rodeo champ. So when he called me about you I was eager to help.”
Stunned to the point of numbness, she asked, “This was his idea?”
“You’re lucky to have a man who’ll go out of his way for you. He’s really outdone himself arranging press coverage. They’re all anxious to find out what the Jiffy Cook is up to. It was a brilliant idea to reveal your upcoming cookbook deal at the restaurant opening.”
She blinked repeatedly, holding back a wave of disappointment. Feeling as though someone had ripped out her heart, she hung up the phone.
Meghan sank down in a kitchen chair and rested her face in her hands. Cash was behind this whole job offer. He had gone behind her back and done exactly what she’d asked him not to do.
Her chest ached and her head throbbed. How could he have done this? She’d trusted him.
He was no better than her ex. He’d manipulated her into doing what he thought was right for her—or was it what worked for him?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CLOSER CASH got to the house, the faster he moved. He was a man on a mission and his plan was beginning to fall into place. The night before, when he’d taken Gram home, he’d explained about his involvement in getting Meg the interview. No arm twisting had been necessary to convince his grandmother to call her friends and invite everyone to attend the upcoming ribbon-cutting ceremony. The only part she’d balked at was keeping his involvement a secret from Meg, but upon revealing how Meg had refused his offer of help Gram had relented.
With it being almost lunchtime, he slipped off his boots and stepped into the kitchen, expecting to find Meg hard at work on a new recipe. The room was empty and the counters were spotless. He supposed it was possible she’d never returned from Gram’s house after breakfast. He wouldn’t know as he’d been busy in the tac
kroom, making phone calls and fighting with the internet to push ahead with advertising the big event.
“Meg?” No response. “Meg, are you here? It’s time to head over to Gram’s for lunch.”
His mood had lifted ever since that kiss—the kiss Meg had insisted upon—the one that had spiraled so wonderfully out of control. If Gram hadn’t intervened dinner wouldn’t have been the only thing overheated.
The memory made his mouth go dry. The last thing he should do was stir up the embers, but he’d loved how he hadn’t been the only one getting into the moment. Meg had been demanding and it had only heated his blood all the more.
“What are you smiling about?”
Meg’s serious tone wiped the grin from his face.
“Nothing. Are you ready for lunch?”
“It can wait.” She crossed her arms and her brows knit together in a frown. “We need to talk.”
Oh, no. What had happened? His body grew tense.
“Why don’t we eat first?” Somehow food seemed to calm people. “Gram will be waiting.”
“I phoned Martha a while ago and explained that we’d be late.” Meg didn’t wait for him to say a word before she turned on her heels and headed for the family room.
His body tensed as he followed her rapid footsteps. What was bothering her? He couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t missed something.
He followed her as far as the doorway, where he propped himself against the doorjamb. She paced in front of the stone fireplace, her forehead creased as though she were in deep thought.
His gut churned with dread. “Whatever it is, just spit it out.”
She stopped and stared at him. “I got that executive chef position...but I’m sure that’s no surprise to you, since Mr. Northridge said you went out of your way to make it happen.”
Cash rubbed at the tightness in his chest. So much for keeping his involvement off the radar. And now that Meg knew she sure didn’t look grateful. He’d guessed that one wrong.
“You aren’t going to deny it?” When he shook his head, she continued, “How could you do it?”
Justification teetered on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would be a waste of breath. He’d been busted. And it didn’t matter that he’d had the best of intentions—he’d broken his word to her.
“I asked you to leave my employment issue alone, but you couldn’t trust me to handle it. I was so wrong about you. You’re just like my ex. Both of you think you know what’s best for me. And you don’t!”
Her comparison between him and Harold was like a sucker punch to the gut. “That’s not true. I’m not like that jerk. It isn’t like I dumped you at the altar. I only tried to help.”
Meg pulled her shoulders back and jutted out her chin. “How? By helping me out the door?”
“That’s not true.”
“Why?” Her lips pursed together. “Are you saying you want me to stay?”
He couldn’t give Meg the answer she wanted—the words inside his heart. It was impossible. He was crazy even to contemplate the idea.
The Sullivan men repeatedly hurt those around them. He thought of the physical and mental anguish he’d witnessed between his parents. And then how he’d come to the Tumbling Weed, where his grandfather had verbally abused him. The men in his family lacked the ability to be gentle and caring. But Meg had showed him that he wasn’t like them. He was different. So what was holding him back?
Clarity struck with the force of a sharp blow to his chest. All this time he’d had it backward. It wasn’t that he feared hurting her, but rather he feared that by letting her in she’d let him down—like most everyone else.
“Cash, say something.” She wrung her hands. “Are you saying we have something beyond an employer/employee relationship?”
He wanted to say yes. He wanted to trust her and believe what she was saying. But once bitten, twice shy...
He swallowed hard. “Weren’t you listening the other day in the meadow? I’m not good for you—for anyone.”
“You’re hiding away from life here on this ranch!” she shouted. “Any man who takes such loving care of his grandmother and takes in a total stranger is a good man.”
Meg continued to cling to the idea that he could fit into her life like a dog clutching a bone. Cash’s neck tensed. He had to get her to forget about this foolish notion.
“Meg, listen to me. I’m not the man for you. My past isn’t dead and gone. It still haunts me. It will ruin your future.”
“No, it won’t. It’s old news. The only one keeping it alive is you.”
He wished she was right, but the reporter who’d visited the ranch proved his point. Now he had no choice but to reveal his latest embarrassing scandal.
Cash sucked in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, feeling the heavy weight of his past pushing down on him. He slowly blew out a breath, all the while figuring out where to start.
“Remember how I told you I left the rodeo after I busted my shoulder?” When she nodded, he continued, “That wasn’t the only reason I pulled out. My ex-girlfriend framed me for a robbery in Austin. Being a child armed robber sticks to a person worse than flypaper. The rodeo circuit is a small world and people have long memories. Even that reporter who showed up here knew all about my past. He accused me of moving from robbing liquor stores and rodeos to stealing the bride from her own wedding.”
Sympathy was reflected in Meg’s luminous green eyes as she stepped closer. Her tone softened but still held a note of conviction. “You’ve got to stand up and prove to everyone—most of all to yourself—that there’s more to you than those nasty tabloid stories. You’re a strong, hardworking cowboy who cares deeply about his family.”
Cash had never thought anyone would fight for him—certainly no one as special as Meg. In the time they’d spent together she’d snuck past his defenses and niggled her way into his heart, filling it up—making him whole.
But she didn’t belong here at the Tumbling Weed. Her future was in the spotlight. Soon she’d realize that and then she’d be miserable here.
The thought of what he had to do next turned his stomach. He met Meg’s determined gaze head-on. She refused to back down.
You can do this. It’s the best thing for her.
“I need you to listen to me,” he said. “You’ve read too much into what we’ve shared.”
She shook her head. “I know you felt that strong connection too.”
He had, but that was beside the point. Right now it was about getting her to see sense.
“It was a physical thing,” he forced out. “Nothing more.”
He stood rigid, resisting the urge to turn away and miss the pain that was about to filter through her emerald eyes. It would serve as his punishment for letting himself get too close to someone—a lesson he would never forget.
You can do this. You’re almost there.
Soon Meg would be set free to have the wonderful life she deserved.
He swallowed. “I knew things were getting out of control between us. That’s why I contacted Tex. It’s...it’s time you got on with your life—”
“Stop.” She held out a shaky hand. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She pressed a hand to her mouth and fled the room.
He felt lower than pond scum. What had he done?
He followed, but she’d already made it to the second floor. The resounding bang of her bedroom door shattered the eerie silence.
“I’m so sorry. I only wanted what was best for you and the baby.”
The too-late words floated up the empty staircase and dissipated. He felt more alone in that moment than he had ever felt in his life.
* * *
Meghan sat by the bed
room window as tears fell one after the other. Stupid hormones had her crying over every little thing. It wasn’t like Cash had told her anything she didn’t already know. Of course there was nothing between them.
Memories of the moments she’d spent in his arms flooded her mind. The kisses they’d shared—had they all been a fleeting fancy for him? How could that be?
They’d been so much more for her. Why, oh, why had she read so much into his soft touches and passionate embraces?
Every time she replayed how he’d admitted he’d found the job for her so she’d leave, the aching hole in her chest widened. She blamed her out-of-control emotions on her pregnancy. In the future she’d work harder at keeping them under wraps.
When she saw Cash jump into his pickup to head over to Martha’s for lunch she knew her time at the Tumbling Weed was up. She needed to head home and face the music—or, in her case, face her mother and any lingering reporters.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ONE LONELY, MISERABLE week stretched into two...then three.
All alone, Cash stood in his kitchen, holding a mug full of coffee. His thoughts strolled back to the day Meg had left him, leaving only a brief note thanking him for his hospitality. Instead of asking him for a ride into town she’d called upon his ranch foreman, Hal, whom she’d befriended during her stay. Cash hated how she’d slipped away without so much as a “good to know you,” but he couldn’t blame her after his not-so-gentle letdown.
Without her around, the house was so quiet it was deafening. There was nowhere to go, and nothing he did let him escape his thoughts. He couldn’t hide behind the excuse that by turning her away he’d done the right thing. The glaring truth was he’d let her go because he was afraid of taking a chance on love.
He gazed out the kitchen window as the late evening sun glowed liked a fireball, painting the distant horizon with splashes of pink and purple. Still he frowned.
A sip of the now-cold brew caused him to grimace and dump the remainder down the drain. Food no longer appealed to him. It was just one more reminder of Meg. Not even Gram’s down-home cooking stirred his appetite. Everything tasted like sawdust.