After Remedy Lane had excused herself to get back to the wedding prep, Haylie turned to Knox. “I was thinking we’d swing through housekeeping headquarters so you could meet the Martinez ladies, Yessica and her daughter Skye. Their family has been working for the resort for more than thirty years, so they’re practically family. And then I thought we’d head to the golf course to say hi to Wendell.”
Everywhere Knox went inside the resort and out on the grounds, he ran into members of the Briscoe tribe, as he was starting to think of the collection of Briscoes and people who’d worked at the resort for decades and were now more honorary family than employees. The property was starting to feel like a family commune as much as a tourist destination. “Everywhere we turn, we see someone you know. Is it always like this at Briscoe Ranch?”
Haylie beamed at him. “You bet. That was the fun of growing up here. It’s like one big happy family.” Her face fell. “No offense, I mean.”
There it was again, the acrid taste of resentment creeping into his mouth. Briscoe Ranch Resort—one big happy family, except for the black sheep and his brood who would have starved in the streets, for all the rest of the Briscoe family cared. He fought against a scowl. “It’s not your fault.”
The opening notes of a horn honking La Cucaracha echoed through the amphitheater, followed by the hollered words, “Blessed serendipity!” in a now-familiar voice. Of its own volition, a smile spread on Knox’s face at the sight of Granny June, sitting on her motorized scooter at the top of the amphitheater as though she was a queen and it was her throne.
“Hey, there, Granny June!” Haylie called back. She and Knox started up the amphitheater stairs in her direction.
“Didn’t expect to see you two out of the office,” Granny said. “I was just comin’ to see if Remedy needed any decorating advice.”
She said it as a jest, but Knox had to wonder if there weren’t a grain of truth in it. Poor Remedy.
“We’re on a tour,” Haylie said. “I’m showing him all the good spots. But you’ve got great timing because we have a question. Did Knox’s parents meet at the resort? He can’t remember.”
As Haylie finished asking the question, Granny June had pulled her smartphone from her pocket and started scrolling. She didn’t look up or acknowledge Haylie’s question, so Haylie touched her shoulder and repeated it louder, as though Granny June were hard of hearing. Which Knox was fairly certain she wasn’t.
Granny swallowed hard. She tore her attention from the phone, but wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. For the woman who’d spent an evening availing Knox of story after story of Briscoe family history, she sure seemed uncomfortable. “They did. Yes. Your mama used to come around the resort to see my boys. Lots of local girls did.”
His mom’s oft-spoken refrain echoed through his mind, Those Briscoe boys are charmers, always were.
Haylie clapped, seemingly oblivious to Granny June’s discomfort with the line of questioning. “Then the Briscoe magic continues! Tell us everything about Clint and Linda’s romance. I’m sure Knox wants to know, too.” She gently pushed Granny June’s phone down and presented her with a well-practiced pout. “Don’t make him wait and ask his mom.”
“There’s not much else to say. Linda was a grade lower than Clint. They went steady for more than a year before getting married in October of her senior year.”
Haylie’s eyes went wide. “When she was still in high school?”
Granny June stuck her nose in her phone again and scrolled through Facebook like her life depended on it. “It was a different era.”
Knox was against causing Granny June any more anguish by questioning her further, but the need for the truth compelled him onward. “I thought they got married in November.”
For a split second, Granny June seemed genuinely confused and panicked about it. After a series of rapid eye blinks, she seemed to regain her senses. “That must be it. Did I ever tell you that my memory’s going? Maybe I did tell ya, and I can’t remember. See what I mean?” She chuckled at her own joke and tapped her temple.
Knox gave her an indulgent smile. “I think that’s enough of a walk down Memory Lane. Would you like to join us on the rest of our tour?”
Granny June sat back down in her motorized scooter and held the handles like she was getting ready to rev the engine, motorcycle style. “I’d be delighted. In fact, some folks around here consider me the ultimate tour guide. Did you know we’ve got the largest stable of horses south of Forth Worth?”
* * *
Emily was four hours into a whirlwind of a morning in her kitchen at the resort. New ideas for menus and meals for Knox were popping into her head so fast, she hardly had time to make note of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so inspired. The more she learned about Knox, the deeper into his mind she delved, the more brilliant her creativity became. And the bonus was that the busier in the kitchen she kept, the less she thought about him or the bevy of inappropriate feelings he’d reawakened in her.
The trouble was, every time she slowed down or closed her eyes, she saw him watching her from across the boat with dark, heated eyes. She felt his hand on her hip, holding her close. She felt the erratic beat of his heart beneath her palm. Compounding that, she genuinely liked being around him, which was perhaps the most dangerously sexy thing about him of all.
But instead of wasting her brain space obsessing over what could never be with someone as off-limits as her boss, she would have to train herself to admire his many attributes in the same way one might crush on a celebrity or a cute delivery guy—from a distance and in small doses. Until she’d retrained herself, the logical solution was to not slow down or close her eyes. Easy as pie.
Or, better yet, maybe she needed to do all of that plus start dating again. It’d been more than two years since a string of dates from hell had helped her decide once and for all that there were no men in Texas worth the time away from her career, her friends, and her peace of mind. She’d not only sworn off men, but makeup, expensive haircuts, pedicures, and shaving her legs more than once every couple of weeks. She was still on the pill, but only because it kept her periods short, pain-free, and predictable. The choice to do away with all the frivolity of dating had been a liberating decision, to say the least. Or, at least, it had felt empowering right up until her new boss arrived, with the hard-bodied, polished virility of an NFL quarterback, to remind her that, at her core, she was still a woman with needs.
But maybe if she kept the ground rules simple—nothing serious; just someone she was only mildly attracted to, someone she wouldn’t be tempted to invest her heart in—it wouldn’t take up too much of her time or energy. All she needed was a casual hook-up. Or two or three. She could get the physical connection she needed without the emotional or professional baggage. Between that and her work, she wouldn’t have time to sleep, much less slow down enough to think inappropriate, lusty thoughts about her boss.
Her embarrassing entice you comment to Knox that morning while serving breakfast had only made her more restless to get started on the solution to her dilemma. And what better way to start than consulting her best friend? Both of their dating skills were pretty rusty, but perhaps Carina was in the know about what the latest, greatest dating website or app was. Humming gaily, and with an admittedly almost manic skip in her step, she set off over the resort grounds.
She found Carina in the third place she looked, sitting in the bottom row of bleachers adjacent to the equestrian arena, watching Decker exercise a large horse the color of milk chocolate mousse.
When Carina saw her, her face lit up with a broad smile and she strummed her fingers absentmindedly on her massive belly. “Hey, you got my text.”
Er, nope. “I don’t even know where my phone is, actually. Haven’t seen it today. You know how I get when I’m in the zone.”
“I do. What I’d texted you about was that I’m getting the worst craving for your cheddar grits, but this time combined with that pickled shrimp
and okra you made for the summer solstice cocktail reception last year. But this time, could you bread them and deep-fry them? Like, tempura style?”
Nasty. Then again, there was no accounting for a pregnant woman’s taste and pickled shrimp had been a regular feature in Carina’s cravings so far. “Sure. I can do that. Hey, listen. I decided something. I need to start dating again.”
Carina blinked at her. “Say that again?”
“I need to start dating. It’s been way too long.”
Carina made cumbersome work of scooting her body around to face Emily head-on. “Let me get this straight. You’re in the middle of the most important month of your life, trying to convince Knox to give you the restaurant, and you want to start dating—for the first time in years?”
“That’s correct. The sooner, the better. Tonight after I’m done with Knox’s dinner, if possible.”
“Are you familiar with the term self-sabotage?”
When Carina put it that way, the idea did seem self-sabotaging—but, then again, Carina hadn’t been privy to the X-rated nature of Emily’s imagination all week. Goddamn, she couldn’t even think the word X-rated without her mind crowding with improper images. Knox rolling up his shirtsleeves. Knox pulling off his tie. Knox’s muscles working while he rowed her across the lake in the moonlight. “Yeah, I need to get laid.”
Carina eyed her like she was crazy. Which she was. Clearly.
“I’m sure there are plenty of men at the gym who would help you scratch that itch,” Carina said.
Gross. “Not at Murph’s. Haven’t you heard the term don’t fuck where you sleep?”
“The phrase is ‘don’t shit where you eat.’”
“Same difference,” Emily said.
Carina braced her hands on Emily’s shoulders. “Emily. Sweetie. You’re going off the deep end. This challenge from Knox is messing with your mind.”
“Tell me about it. Hence, why I need a man.”
“Okay, if you could just stop for one second and look at me.” She waited until Emily met her gaze. “Thank you. Now tell me, what’s really going on?”
Nope. Carina was her best friend, but she was also Knox’s cousin, and so the last person Emily wanted to confess her lustful thoughts to. “I’m a little stressed out at the moment.”
“Clearly. You don’t have to cook for me, if that’s contributing. I can—”
“No, geez. That’s not it. I love cooking for you. I love feeling like I’m helping to nourish your baby, in my own Auntie Emily way. It makes me feel closer to you than ever and I love it. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
“I know. I love it, too.” She took Emily’s hands and moved them to her belly. “He’s moving a lot right now. Feel that?”
Beneath Emily’s palm, Carina’s belly undulated like a massage chair. “I feel it.” To Carina’s belly, she added, “Hi, Baby Decker. It’s Auntie Emily again. You sure are making your mommy eat weird foods.”
Feeling the baby move was all it took to put Emily’s life and future back into perspective. She couldn’t imagine not being near Carina and her new baby when it was born. She needed this job at the restaurant to work out. It had to. She couldn’t resign herself to being some hotshot chef’s line cook and she couldn’t move to a big city in search of work. Briscoe Ranch was her home. After so many years fighting for a foothold in the world, she was loath to endure being adrift and poor again, away from the people she loved and who loved her back.
She rested her ear against Carina’s belly and listened to the baby move, the reminder she needed to keep her eye on the prize. Getting laid and lusting over Knox and all other manners of self-sabotage were off the menu. From here on out, Emily was all business, all the time. To test herself, she thought the word X-rated again, and when an imagined vision of Knox’s bare chest popped into her mind, she smashed it down like a Whac-A-Mole.
“So what gives? Why aren’t you working today?” Emily asked. Carina’s wedding gown design business had been booming since she’d opened it two years earlier, and with Briscoe Ranch’s winter wedding season about to kick off, Emily was surprised to see Carina lolling about. Carina had never been a loller.
Carina shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it, and I didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to, so I gave myself the day off.”
Good for her. “You and I were always workaholic twinsies, and now look at you.”
Carina’s eyes found Decker in the arena. Warmth and love radiated from her every cell. “I know. Look at me.”
As though he felt his wife’s eyes on him, Decker turned the horse around and cantered it across the arena to where Emily and Carina were.
As long-time employees at the resort, Emily had known James Decker, who went by his last name as a tribute to his late father, as long as she’d known Carina. He was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome cowboy—who also took the prize for most reformed incorrigible bachelor at the resort. Back in his heyday, his reputation for hard drinking and partying was legendary in hill country. Emily had been a firsthand witness to his transformation to a family man who only had eyes for Carina, whom he doted on as though it were his life’s work. “Hey, Decker.”
“Hey, Em. What’s new? You look tired. My wife running you ragged with her weird food cravings?”
“Emily has a new man to cook for,” Carina said.
“Shut your pie hole,” Emily said, giving Carina’s ribs the gentlest of nudges.
“That would be your cousin Knox, right?” Decker asked. “Seems like a decent guy. He told me point blank that he doesn’t plan on messing with my equestrian center in his expansion plan for the resort, so that’s a good start.”
“Definitely, and speaking of him,” Emily said. “You know how to fish, right?”
“‘Course I do. I don’t get to go as often as I like, but sure. Why?”
“I need you to teach Knox. Lake Bandit has all these huge, aggressive fish in it, and at dinner on Tuesday, Granny June told Knox and me about how Clint and his buddy used to fish the lake all the time. Knox said he’s never learned how to fish, so I suggested you as a teacher. I need him to catch a fish because I got this burst of inspiration about taking farm-to-table to the next level for Knox. I figure, if I can target his sentimentality by cooking with the same type of fish his father probably caught and ate a million times, then—”
Carina’s smile turned knowing, so Emily clammed up. She was rambling, but that was nothing new. “What?”
“I love it when one of your clients bring out your passion. Yeah, it turns you a little crazy sometimes, but that’s the price you pay for being a culinary artist. Who would’ve guessed my long-lost cousin would end up being your muse?”
Her muse? Damn it all to hell, Carina was right. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so inspired. But admitting the truth wasn’t going to help her keep that professional distance she so desperately needed. “I don’t need a muse. My muse comes from within. I’m an island.”
“Sure, you are,” Decker said.
Emily ignored his ribbing and Carina’s knowing smile. “Give me a break. My future’s riding on this challenge, so I’d be worried if I wasn’t inspired, given the circumstances.”
Carina looped her arm around Emily’s. “Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe your muse is the challenge, not the client.”
That was it. Had to be. Carina was a genius. All the horrible, confusing feelings Emily was experiencing had a logical reason. While it had been a while since she’d felt such a high level of passion for her cooking, it’d been even longer since she’d experienced anything akin to passion toward a man. No wonder her brain was confusing the two, especially since the challenge involved wowing a powerful, attractive man with her cooking in the privacy of his home, which demanded an intimacy she seldom experienced these days.
Carina shook Emily’s arm. “Uh-oh. Look. Your muse is headed this way.”
Emily bolted upright and followed Carina’s line of sight. Sure enough
, Knox was striding over the resort grounds in their direction with Haylie in tow and Granny June pacing them on her motorized scooter.
As always, every inch of Knox oozed with millionaire cowboy sensuality, from his perfectly tailored suit and confident stride to his ink-black Stetson and the lightly stubbled cheeks that gave him just the perfect amount of rakish charm. He was looking right at Emily, and when she returned his gaze, one side of his lips kicked up in a grin. Then a lock of his hair slipped from beneath his hat and fell over his forehead like he was friggin’ Clark Kent.
Emily’s body shimmered with heat and need.
Nope. That’s not misplaced passion for cooking. That’s lust, girl. Plain and simple.
She tore her gaze away from him. “Son of a bitch.”
Carina’s faint chuckle let Emily know she’d done a piss-poor job masking her true feelings from her best friend.
“Enjoying yourself?” Emily said through gritted teeth.
“Immensely, thank you.”
“Oh, good.”
“Haylie’s with him,” Carina said. “Has he said anything about how she’s doing as his secretary? She hasn’t been returning my texts lately, so I have no idea.”
An unexpected tug of loyalty to Haylie had Emily holding her tongue about Haylie’s shaky first day. “I’m sure she’s doing fine. She’s a lot more capable than she looks.”
“Agreed. But not very many people see her potential other than you and me.”
Haylie had only been seventeen when Emily came to work at the resort. At the time, Haylie and Carina didn’t get along. Though Emily would never admit it outright, she resented Haylie’s lack of ambition. Here she was, with the world handed to her on a silver platter, with a loving family and every possible opportunity, and all she’d done was squander her gifts while Emily had been scraping her way through life with no money or support system. In truth, it’d taken Emily a long time to grow into loving Haylie as part of her honorary family. But she had, and now Emily’s life was all the richer for having Haylie in it.
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