He leaned against the counter beside her. "Like the time you hid from her in the hay loft in the old barn so you didn't have to go to piano lessons?"
She didn't speak, but her face flushed.
It was a moment he'd replayed in his head for years. They'd been sitting up in the loft, their legs swinging from one of the rafters when her mother's car had pulled up. She grabbed his arm and scrambled to hide in the shadows in the corner.
"Lucy Katherine," her mother yelled as she poked around the empty horse stalls. "I know you're here. Mrs. Hooper said she saw you sneak in here."
Dylan and Lucy sat on their knees in the dusty hay, looking down at the top of her mother's head. Dylan had looked at Lucy and opened his mouth to ask her why they were hiding.
Before he knew it, Lucy'd leaned over, the tips of her fingers resting in the hay, and her lips had pressed against his with an intensity and a tenderness he would never forget.
The thought of it all these years later still sent a surge of adrenaline through him. "You only kissed me to shut me up. You thought I was going to tell your mom where we were hiding."
She stared into the mixture, stirring slowly. "In my defense, my mom would have murdered me if she found out I'd skipped those stupid piano lessons on purpose again."
"Why didn't you tell her you didn't want to take piano?"
"It wouldn't have made a difference. She made me crazy. Still does sometimes."
He pushed his shoulder against her arm. "For the record, I wouldn't have said anything to your mom."
The sauce bubbled. Lucy set the wooden spoon in the sink and crossed her arms. "How could I have known that? At the time you seemed to love to torment me."
He glanced down at her, still as pretty and petite as she'd been at fourteen. "All boys pick on the girl they have a crush on, don't they?"
"You had a crush on me?"
"Surely you knew that."
"Honestly, I couldn't tell if you liked me or despised me."
"So why did you kiss me, Miss Pickett?"
Her dark eyelashes fluttered, and her cheeks bloomed with color. "We were friends, and I'd never kissed a boy. I wanted my first one to be with you."
Chapter Ten
Working in the small kitchen with Dylan soon turned into a dance. As Lucy stirred the bubbling amber-colored caramel, he slid behind her to get the cream from the refrigerator. When she reached around him to take the sea salt from the spice rack, he rested his warm hand on the small of her back as he leaned across the counter for a whisk. The scent of the campfire on his shirt mixed with the sweet smell of caramel sauce made her lightheaded. "Just let me know if I'm in your way."
"I was just thinking that this small kitchen has its advantages."
Lucy fumbled with the whisk, and it fell beside her feet.
Pulling another one from the drawer, he narrowed his eyes. "Everything okay?"
She gripped the edge of the counter behind her. "Sure." But it wasn't okay. Lucy needed to escape. Away from the heat of the kitchen. The heat of Dylan and the intoxicating scent of his cooking. Embarrassed by the memories of the day she'd finally given in to her feelings and kissed Dylan. "Everything's fine."
Dylan stepped closer to her, and she looked up to see his face. His eyes were soft, and that cocky smirk that she loved to hate was gone. It had been replaced by something different. He wanted to kiss her, and she swallowed because in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him back.
Dylan's fingers brushed her hair off her shoulder. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and now it's like God brought you back here for a reason."
She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him it was just a coincidence that they'd walked into the same kitchen. That she and God weren't really on the best terms after everything that had happened to her father. "I don't know if—"
This time, it was Dylan who quieted her by planting his lips on hers.
Her muscles tightened, but then her feet curled up onto her tiptoes, deepening the kiss.
He cupped his hand on the back of her neck. Heat sparked and crackled between them as his other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.
Her head spun with delight, and her palm slid up the soft fabric, over the muscles of his stomach, and rested on him for support.
Something brushed against her ankle, and she pulled back, grateful the counter was behind her, because her legs threatened to give out underneath her.
Red stood at their feet, looking up at them. Lucy laughed and rested her forehead against his chest.
Dylan slid both arms around her, and she relished the way they molded to her.
"Way to ruin things for me, Red," Dylan said.
As the fog of emotions began to fade, nervous laughter escaped her lips. She'd let herself get swept away in the moment, and now she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a big mistake.
#
Dylan stared into Lucy's eyes and had to remind himself not to fall in too deep.
When she'd reappeared into his life, he never would have imagined she would be here with him in this kitchen, fitting so perfectly in his arms. Before the kiss, he hadn't allowed himself to think about how much he'd missed her, how much he wanted her, but now he couldn't deny the empty place she'd left in him when she'd moved.
She stepped out of his embrace and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I—"
"Lucy, please don't apologize."
She shook her head. "I really...I should go."
Her shoulders, which a moment ago had melted at his touch, were now rigid. The mouth that had just kissed his was now pulled into a grim line. In an instant, everything had changed between them. "Now? You're leaving right now?"
Her gaze darted around the room, landing anywhere but on him. "It's getting late. I need to find Paige. She's probably wondering where I disappeared to."
"What about the caramel sauce?" His mind raced, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. "We haven't cut the cake you brought." As the words came out, he realized how lame they sounded. He didn't care about the cake or the sauce. He only cared about Lucy.
But before he could come up with anything to say to change her mind, the screen door slammed behind her, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the smell of burning sugar on the stove.
#
Lucy escaped through the back door of the kitchen, but as much as she wanted to resist, she couldn't stop herself from glancing over her shoulder back at the house. Sure enough, Dylan's silhouette stood in the doorway, watching her walk away.
Lucy trudged through the dark pasture to find Paige. She'd done something she rarely did—let her emotions get the best of her. They had pulled her in, making her forget why she had come in the first place—to get the job, to prove herself to her family, to gain control of the partnership with Dylan.
She'd worked for years to become a respected chef in Dallas, but she'd ended up in Dylan's arms, letting all her control slip away.
The only thing she could do now was find Paige, tuck her hair behind her ears, and get out of this place before she did anything else she'd regret. The truth was she didn't trust herself around Dylan and those blue eyes.
When she reached the front of the campfire, she rested a hand on her pounding heart to catch her breath. The fire crackled as Lucy stared into its dancing light. All that warmth and comfort was tantalizing, but playing with fire would only leave her burned. She blinked and looked away.
This was crazy. She couldn't have feelings for Dylan. He was everything she didn't want in a man. For one thing, he was a cowboy. What would her mother and Kenneth think? She shuddered to even imagine bringing him home to her family. Not to mention that he lived here on this ranch that held so many painful memories for her and her mother.
When she saw Paige in the glow of the barn, Lucy left the warmth of the fire behind her and made her way to her stepsister.
The hum of a Johnny Cash song drifted from the barn. "Have you heard the band?" Paige asked over the musi
c. "They're awesome."
"Not really. I was in the kitchen."
Paige laughed. "Of course you were. You always end up hiding in the kitchen."
"Actually, I wanted to see if you're ready to get out of here."
Paige shrugged. "Sure. Whenever you're ready."
Lucy spotted Dylan walking through the pasture toward them. She slipped her arm in Paige's. "Now."
"Now?" Paige scrambled to keep up with her. "Whoa. What's the hurry? I was going to get some information from the band first. They'd be great at the reception. Nana might even like them."
Lucy kept dragging her toward the line of trucks parked along the drive. "She does love cowboys, but we can figure out how to reach them later."
Once they were in her car, Lucy's heart thudded as she pulled her seatbelt over her chest.
"What's going on with you?" Paige asked as she climbed inside.
She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaky. "I don't know what you're talking about." But the high pitch of her voice revealed her lie.
"Look at you." Paige slammed the car door, and the cabin went dark, but she reached up and turned on the interior light. "You're all flushed."
She started the engine and shifted into reverse, hoping that escaping this property would mean she would escape the draw she had to Dylan.
Paige leaned closer to her. "This is about the cowboy, isn't it?"
Lucy shook her head and switched off the light. "Stop it." But she knew she couldn't hide it.
"Did you two kiss?"
Lucy gripped the steering wheel tighter to keep from driving it into the ditch. "Paige—"
Paige gasped. "That's it! He kissed you."
Her shoulders slumped forward. Technically, she'd kissed him right back. Stupid!
She could feel Paige's stare searing through her.
"There may have been a short kiss." Okay, maybe it had been more on the long, slow side, but with a kiss that good, she'd been defenseless. "It was a rare moment of weakness." Weakness of judgment and weakness of the knees.
"Well then, good for you."
Lucy glanced at her sister. "What?"
"It's not like you're marrying this cowboy. It's nice to see you let your hair down and have fun every once in a while."
"It's not the right time for fun." Or romance. "I need to focus on the wedding and making sure I impress J.T. Shaw. I can't let anything get in the way of being hired at the restaurant."
"Not even a fling with a hottie like Dylan Lawson."
"Especially Dylan Lawson."
Chapter Eleven
Dylan stepped into a modern office building not far from the loft where he'd first run into Lucy, who was by far the most baffling woman he'd ever met. After their kiss, she'd practically sprinted out of his kitchen like it was on fire. All night and all day today, his mind had replayed it, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He couldn't deny that the kiss could make things with the catering job tricky, but he wanted more than anything to kiss her again.
He stopped in front of a security guard reading The Dallas Morning News and cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I'm looking for Shaw Investments."
He'd almost talked himself out of this meeting a dozen times, but he'd already agreed to meet with J.T. His boots thudded across the slick lobby floors. He'd find out if everything this man was offering was legitimate and get the heck out of Dodge.
The man in uniform didn't look up as he pointed toward the elevator doors. "Eighteenth floor."
Dylan tipped his hat, despite the fact that the man's eyes were still on his paper. "Thank you, sir."
Stepping into the elevator, everything from the fancy lobby to the cheesy music in the background reminded him he didn't belong here. Dylan hit the button and ran his hand across his jaw, his conscience still chewing over whether or not he was doing the right thing.
He stepped into the hallway and found a glass door with Shaw Investments painted in block letters. It was after five and the receptionist chair was empty.
"Hello?" Dylan called out in the small reception area. "Anyone here?"
With a cell phone still at his ear, J.T. appeared from the doorway in the corner and waved Dylan into J.T.'s office. "We'll iron out all the details over lunch next week," he said into the phone.
Dylan stepped into a room decorated with kitschy paintings of men on horseback and a desk chair upholstered in an ugly cowhide. Whatever steer it came from wouldn't have gone for two cents at auction. Looked like J.T. had a taste for all things western.
"Just set it up with my receptionist." J.T.'s booming voice vibrated off the floor to ceiling windows behind him.
What good were these huge windows if he only had a sterile view of the buildings across the busy street?
J.T. set the phone beside a horseshoe-themed business card holder on his desk. "Dylan, I'm glad you called. After we talked on Sunday, I didn't know if I'd hear from you."
That made two of them. "Thanks for meeting with me."
J.T.'s chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. "How's the catering job going. You enjoying working with Kenneth Morgan's stepdaughter?"
The more time he spent with Lucy, the more those old feelings stirred inside him, which made today even harder—and even more necessary. He couldn't let his attraction to her get in the way of a big opportunity. "Lucy's great. Extremely smart and talented." And gorgeous. And a great kisser.
J.T.'s gaze moved to a photograph of a large family in front of a Christmas tree. "My nephew seems to think so too."
Point taken. "I hear she's also up for the job as your executive chef."
J.T. raised an eyebrow. "Ms. Pickett's food is very sophisticated, but I haven't decided what direction I want to take the restaurant. I've been doing some market research, and I can see there's a need for high-end restaurant with a down-home feel. I'm beginning to think your food and your image could make me a lot of money."
His image? What was that supposed to mean? He was beginning to feel like one of the western decorations in his office. "If you're referring to my work boots, that's not an image. With all due respect, it would be tough to ride a horse in flip flops."
A deep laugh roared out of J.T. "See. This is what I like about you. You have charisma. Men will want to be like you, and women will want to be with you. We'll get great press and exposure for the restaurant."
Dylan cringed. "I just want to cook great food."
Pointing to a matching pair of leather chairs across from him, J.T.'s expression turned serious. "So what made you decide to call me?"
Dylan continued to stand. "I figured I owed it to myself to at least hear what this job is all about and ask you a few questions."
"Well, it's simple. Being attached to one of my restaurants would guarantee you become a big-name chef in Dallas overnight. It would bring you respect, a pretty hefty salary, and probably a lot of dates. What are your questions?"
Subtlety definitely wasn't J.T.'s strong suit. He didn't want or need J.T. Shaw's help in the date department, but it sure would be nice to be able to take care of all the medical debt that had been plaguing his father and convince his sister to go back to school. "How much control would I have? Menus, staff, everything in the kitchen—I would want it all left up to me."
Dylan refused to compromise. He wanted to do his food, his way. Working with Lucy had reminded him that partnerships were usually messy, and he wouldn't want a joint venture with J.T. to come back to bite him.
J.T. leaned back in his chair with an amused grin. "Obviously, I would need to give my okay on the big things. It is my money at stake, after all, but I don't have the time or desire to micromanage anyone. If I hire you, it will be because I trust that your decisions will ultimately make me money."
Dylan rocked back on the heels of his boots. "How soon are you planning to make a decision?"
J.T. stood and walked around the desk. "The way I see it, it will all come down to the food at the wedding."
"Why the wedding? Can't we do this
separately?"
"Before I decide on a direction to take the restaurant, I need to know how an upscale clientele would receive this concept. The wedding reception will be the perfect opportunity for me to see how diners respond to your food."
They walked together out of the office into the empty reception area. "And Lucy's food."
"That right. This wedding is one of the first big events in my remodeled venue. I need it to be a success, and I suspect a little healthy competition between you and Lucy will only make it better. It could garner some great press and referrals for the business." J.T. stopped. "Of course Reed will be pulling for Miss Pickett, and I'm concerned some portion of your hesitation about the job is related to Lucy. You're not interested in her, are you?"
"I don't need any romantic complications in my life right now, and I'm certain Ms. Pickett won't have any interest in the man competing against her for this job." And after she found out Dylan was up for the position, he'd be lucky if she didn't wish him physical harm.
J.T. gave him a decisive nod. "Understood. Speaking of Reed..." He pointed toward the door.
Reed was walking down the hall past the glass wall of the office, staring down at his phone. He swung the door opened and would have slammed into Dylan if he hadn't stepped aside.
Dylan looked down at him. "Hello, Reed."
Reed's face snapped up, his gelled hair unmoving. What had Lucy ever seen in this guy? "Hey," he said, his expression blank. "You're that guy who made the omelets."
He put his hand in Reed's. "It's Dylan Lawson."
"What are you doing here?"
Before Dylan could respond, J.T. walked in behind them and slapped Dylan on the back. "I'm considering him for the job of executive chef of the new restaurant."
Reed narrowed his eyes. "What about Lucy?"
What about Lucy? How was he going to tell her that he was up for her dream job? She would be about as cooperative as a rattlesnake to work with after that conversation.
"I'm weighing all my options," J.T. said. "Like I told Dylan, I may go in another direction."
Kiss the Cowboy Page 9