12 Borrowing Trouble

by Becky McGraw

  I’m a clean freak,” Carrie blurted, and her eyes darted to the sink where she saw his beard stubble in the bottom of the bowl. The urge to clean it out struck her. She’d done it for many years behind Sean, who had the same habit of leaving the dregs in the sink after he shaved. She looked around for a towel, and saw only the one there was wrapped around Dylan’s slim hips. Her eyes flew back to his, then slid down his perfect, slippery chest to where the towel was wrapped right under his navel.

  Bold wasn’t a word that would ever be used to describe her, but right at that minute, with this man she felt empowered. Seeing his sizable erection behind that towel did that to her. Before she could think twice, Carrie snatched the towel off of him and ducked under his arm. She went to the sink and swiped out the beard stubble, then turned and he was right there.

  “You should use the towel to do that instead of wrapping it around you,” she said with a playful giggle that was also unlike her. She fought to keep her eyes from dropping to check him out like they wanted to.

  His eyes heated, and his hands found her hips. “And you should drop these shorts, and hop your pretty ass up on that sink,” he growled, shoving her into the cabinet. “But if we don’t get out of here, Terri will know what we’re doing in here. And if Joel comes inside, I’ll be in all kinds of trouble.”

  That comment caused Carrie’s head to rock back so she could look up at him. “Why?”

  Dylan didn’t answer for a minute. He took a step back from her, and picked up his jeans to step into them, before he finally answered. “He told me to stay away from you. If I was smart, I would. But I’m dumb as a box of rocks, evidently.”

  “Why would he say that, and why would you think it was smart to listen?” Carrie asked as anger danced around inside of her. How dare either one of these men decide what was best for her. What she did was her own damned business. Carrie moved to the door and put her hand on the knob, watching him button up his jeans as she waited for an answer.

  “Because you aren’t my type, and he’s worried I’ll hurt you,” Dylan admitted without meeting her eyes.

  She lifted a brow. “What exactly is your type, and why don’t I fit?”

  He met her eyes then, and his face turned serious. “One night stands are my type, temporary women. I don’t do relationships. You bake cookies, sweetheart. Not my type.”

  “Well, I sure seemed like your type a few minutes ago,” she shot back indignantly. “You don’t know me. How do you know I’m not your type,” she challenged, notching her chin up an inch. Just because she hadn’t ever done a one-night-stand, didn’t mean she couldn’t.

  These days that might be just the thing she needed to get her back in the swing of things. Her kids weren’t here, she had two days left to this fantasy, maybe a one-night-stand was just what the doctor ordered to get her groove back. She could find a relationship kind of man later, one she would feel comfortable introducing to her kids. Someone who would want to be a permanent part of their lives. But right now, she couldn’t think of anything more she wanted than to break the ice with the man standing here telling her she wasn’t his type.

  “You promised me a date,” she said brazenly.

  His brows slammed down over his eyes and he frowned. “I did?”

  Carrie nodded her head, and lifted a brow. “You invited me to go riding this afternoon, and I accepted. Even said I’d saddle the horses, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. If Joel sees us, he’ll kick my ass.”

  “If you stand me up, I’ll kick your ass.” Carrie said sassily, ignoring his comment. She twisted the knob and a sense of anticipation filled her as she walked out the door.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Carrie sat at the breakfast bar, staring at the clock in the living room above the mantle. It seemed like the clock was moving backwards. She had been ready since one fifteen, but didn’t go out to the barn, because she didn’t want to seem too anxious. The kitchen was clean, all her baking was done, she had even packed up some of the cupcakes she made along with the new batch of sugar cookies she’d made specifically for Dylan.

  From his hints, she felt like they must be his favorites or something. Now she just had fifteen minutes more to wait. Huffing out a breath, she slid off the barstool and decided to add some bottled water to the pack. They’d need something to wash all that sugar down with. Carrie had her head buried in the huge refrigerator, when a gruff voice asked from behind. “Going somewhere?”

  She jerked upward and banged her head on the top of the door. “Ouch,” she muttered as she grabbed two bottles of water then stood rubbing the top of her head. “Oh, hey, Joel,” she said nervously, as she shut the door.

  “Where you going?” he repeated.

  Carrie’s fingers tightened around the water bottles, as a wave of protectiveness washed over her remembering Dylan’s words from earlier. Joel would kick my ass. “Um, it’s nice out today. I thought I’d take a hike.” She fought to keep the heat that gathered at the base of her neck from creeping upward.

  His eyes shot to the plates of cupcakes and cookies sitting on the counter, then back to her. “Terri said you were in a baking frenzy this morning. Is everything okay?”

  “Fine,” she replied, forcing her lips into a wide smile. “Perfect.”

  He studied her intently for a second. “Those biscuits you made were amazing.”

  “Thanks, they’re my grandma’s recipe. I’m the only one in my family she trusted with her secret recipe.” Carrie knew she was blabbering, but couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “When you have time later, I’d like to talk to you,” he said evenly.

  Fear that he knew exactly where she was going, knew that she was lying to him, coursed through her. “Uh, is everything okay?”

  His face broke in a smile and relief washed through her. “Yeah, everything is fine. I just want to run an idea Terri and I had by you and see what you think.” He tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be in my office. Terri is tying me to my chair until I finish tallying up the mountain of receipts I have for the bookkeeper.”

  “Okay, I’ll probably be a while,” Carrie said. Longer than a while if she was lucky, she thought and anticipation shot through her.

  He groaned. “No rush. I’ll be in there a long time. Send out a search party if you don’t see me for a few days,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Well, if you’d do them monthly, you wouldn’t be in there so long,” Terri said as she walked through the back door with a chubby, dark-haired baby in her arms. The child cooed, and grabbed a fistful of her hair. She laughed and pulled it out of his fist. “Jayden, that hurts mommy.”

  “Mommy only likes it when daddy does that,” Joel drawled, walking over to his wife. He dropped a kiss on her mouth, then took the little boy from her. He held him up toward the ceiling, bounced him until he got a giggle, then settled the baby on his hip.

  The sight of the big man holding the baby, loving him, brought back memories of Sean doing the same with Chris. Her good mood shattered into a million pieces, as a fresh wave of emotion gathered behind her eyes. She looked down, shoved the water bottles inside the bag on the counter, then quickly brushed past Terri. “I’ll see y’all later.”

  “Wait, I need to ask you something,” Terri said with a laugh.

  Carrie stopped at the door, but didn’t turn back toward Terri. “What?”

  “Those cupcakes you made were amazing. Do you by chance bake wedding cakes?” Terri asked with a huffed breath. “The bride with the emergency? I need a wedding cake by Saturday morning. I have called every baker in the area, and they’re booked. It’s wedding season. She’s a basket case, and is talking about canceling her reception if she can’t find someone. I’ve paid to have waiters, tables and linens at the pavilion, scheduled the caterers and a band. That’s a lot of money lost if I can’t find a wedding cake.”

  Carrie’s hand slid off the knob, and she forced herself to turn around. “What happened to her cake? Surel
y she had someone to do it?”

  “The lady she had to make the cake is a one-woman band. The bride went with her because she was cheap. The woman broke her leg yesterday, and can’t stand long enough to do it. The bride got a refund, but that doesn’t give her a cake for the reception.”

  “I’ve made two-tiered birthday cakes, and…” Carrie stopped to swallow hard. “And a three-tiered cake for my tenth anniversary party.” Sean had invited the whole station to the party. They were on a tight budget, so Carrie had to make it herself.

  “Y’all talk. Jayden’s going to help me climb that mountain of receipts.” Joel laughed. “I need all the reinforcements I can get.” He leaned in to kiss Terri, then headed out of the kitchen.

  “Can you do it then?” Terri asked hopefully. “The bride only has eight hundred dollars to work with and needs to feed about three hundred people.”

  Carrie snorted. She didn’t even have to calculate in her mind. “If I had eight hundred dollars, I could make a cake that would cover a thousand people.” She was frugal, had lived that way all her adult life. The cake she’d made for a hundred and fifty at her anniversary party cost less than a hundred dollars. Seventy-three dollars to be exact.

  “Whatever you don’t spend on material is yours.”

  Her good mood swiftly returned. So fast in fact, Carrie felt a little lightheaded. “Really?”

  “Yeah, and if it turns out well, I want to talk to you about doing cakes for other events we have out here. I need someone I can depend on. I’ll recommend you to every bride and event planner I talk to.”

  Carrie staggered over to the breakfast bar and took a seat. Her knees just wouldn’t hold her up. This opportunity could be the answer to all her prayers. A new financial beginning for her and her kids. She had never even considered turning her hobby, her obsession, into a business. Wouldn’t have any idea how to do that.

  But was she ready or even good enough to do that?

  Her excitement faded a little, but a small tickle of it remained in her stomach. She put a hand there. “I’m not professionally trained. I’m not as good as those professional bakers who do all that with the fondant wrap icing. I use box mixes, I don’t make my cakes from scratch.”

  Terri smiled. “Fake it til you make it, honey. That’s what Joel did here. He’s not a rancher, or a hotel manager, he’s an attorney, but he’s learned what he needs to know. I’m a nurse, not a wedding planner, but I’m learning too.”

  Terri was right. She could learn how to do all that. Use some of the money she made from faking it to take classes, so she could become that good. Nobody would ever know.

  “I’ll do it. But it’s already Thursday, so I’d have to get started right now to have it ready for Saturday. I have to go shopping, make plans. Do you have a photo of the cake the bride wanted?” Carrie said in a flurry.

  Terri held up her hand. “Whoa,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your afternoon. You had plans. Go take your hike, we can go shopping tomorrow.”

  Just that fast, Carrie had forgotten about her plans with Dylan. Well, Dylan would just have to take a hike. Alone. Getting her groove back definitely took a backseat to the promise of a new future for her and her kids. Carrie wouldn’t be in that backseat with him, making out with him or anyone else. She needed to focus on what was important.

  “No, we need to go shopping now. I want to plan tonight and lay everything out, so I can bake all day tomorrow. The decorating alone could take all afternoon. The flowers have to set before I put them on the cake. I’ll have to assemble the tiers Saturday morning. I don’t need a hike. I need to get started.”

  Terri huffed out a relieved sigh. “Okay, then. Let me get my keys, and call the bride.”

  While Terri did that, Carrie needed to call Trace to see if he could keep the kids for a few more days. She had a cake to bake. For eight hundred dollars. Hope and excitement made her almost giddy as she ran for the phone.

  ***

  Dylan glanced at the clock in the barn office as he passed by. It was two-fifteen. Fifteen minutes past the time Carrie Collins said she’d meet him at the barn. He walked to Cason’s stall, and opened the door hesitating a moment to slip the sling Terri had forced him to wear over his neck. He grabbed the lead rope from the nail on the post, then hung the sling there.

  It looked like Carrie was running late. He was going to have to saddle the horses himself, or they’d be another hour leaving the barn. Which meant they’d probably be after dark getting back. Everyone would be back at the barn then and they’d know he had gone out with her. Joel would know then too.

  That couldn’t happen.

  Dylan was not borrowing trouble he didn’t need by throwing the fact he’d been out riding with the widow in Joel’s face, after he’d been warned to steer clear of her. He’d already come close enough to losing his job by getting in a fight with the Aussie last night. Considering Joel’s warning, it had been stupid of Dylan to suggest they go out for a ride together at all. But the hopelessness he’d seen in her beautiful eyes this morning had freaked him out.

  It was the same look he’d seen in his mother’s eyes before she committed suicide.

  Dylan would have done just about anything at that moment to make Carrie Collins feel better. He wanted to know where her head was, and why she felt so hopeless. To talk her down off of the ledge she seemed to be standing on. The same ledge his mother had teetered on for years after his father’s death. The one he and his brothers had most likely pushed their mother over when they got into trouble one too many times, because they were too stupid and immature to realize she was on that brink. They all paid the price for that immaturity, for the lack of a strong male hand in their lives.

  He didn’t want Carrie Collins to feel that same urge. She was a young and vibrant woman, who didn’t have the four juvenile delinquent boys his mother had. There was hope for her, and he was going to make her see that. The only way he was going to be able to do that though, was to spend some time alone with her.

  Hell, who was he kidding?

  Dylan wanted to know all that, wanted to help her. But after that mind-blowing kiss in the kitchen he didn’t give a damn about losing his job, he’d lost his mind. All he had been able to think about since then was putting his aching dick inside of the not-so-merry widow and riding her to the barn. That is exactly what he had in mind when he asked her to go riding with him today. To take her out to the lake, find a shade tree by the bank and lick that delicious, sugar-coated body of hers from head to toe.

  In the shower, he’d tried to get his damned self under control, but she hadn’t let him off the hook when he tried to just not mention going riding again. She had called him on the offer, even after he told her she wasn’t his type. Even knowing he was a no-strings kind of man. They would have sex and she would leave tomorrow. The proposition had been too good to resist.

  Dylan felt the thickness of his condom-stuffed wallet in his back pocket, which rivaled the thickness behind his zipper and smiled. He planned on using every one of those condoms he could this afternoon. By the time they came back to this barn, he could guarantee they would both be smiling.

  If she’d just get her pretty ass out here, so they could get going.

  Unless she’d stood him up.

  Dylan stopped beside the fence where he’d tied Cason and dropped the saddle and blanket to the ground. Before he took the trouble to saddle Cason, he’d better find out. He really wasn’t in any shape to be doing that right now anyway.

  Joel had gone up to the house earlier to do some paperwork, he said. It probably wouldn’t be a great idea for Dylan to saunter up there and confront her. No, the best thing he could do was go to the office and sit there and wait until she came. Or until he got tired of waiting. Huffing out a breath, he put Cason back in the stall and walked to the office.

  He’d never been stood up by a woman before. He hoped this wouldn’t be the first time. But then again, if she stood him up maybe he’d be l
ucky. At least he’d keep his job then. And he could say he tried to help her, if she did do something stupid. His conscience would be clear.

  Dylan sat in the chair beside the desk and kicked back to wait. He’d wait thirty minutes, then he would know she wasn’t coming out there. That she had indeed stood him up.

  He had almost fallen asleep in the chair, when someone grunted at the door before saying in a thickly accented and very nasally tone, “You away with the pixies, slacker, while I’m bustin’ my arse? You’re no worse for wear, and my beak is almost broken arsehole!” Dylan’s eyes flew open and he sat up in the chair to stare at the obviously angry Aussie standing in the doorway. “What? Cat got your tongue now?”

  Dylan noticed his saddle on the man’s hip. He’d left it in the aisle, because he didn’t want to have to drag it back to the tack room if they were going riding. “I was going riding,” Dylan replied defensively. It was odd, but he was starting to understand the man’s language, even with his nose packed with gauze. And he wasn’t going to get mad at him this time, because he had a right to be pissed. He got up out of the chair and walked to the door. “Give me the saddle, and I’ll put it up.”

  Without thought, he reached for it with his right hand. Zane released the weight and the saddle fell to the ground, as excruciating pain shot up to his shoulder. Losing his breath, Dylan dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder. Zane crouched beside him. “You okay, mate? Should I get Terri?”

  Sucking in a breath, Dylan pushed up to his feet. “I’ll go to the med shack and see her. Can you put the saddle away for me? I don’t think I’ll be needing it.”

  “Sure thing,” Zane replied, eyeing him with concern. “I’m er, sorry about our tangle at the bar. It was foolish.”

  Dylan didn’t want to talk about that right now. He needed pain meds and he needed them now. It felt like someone was shoving a hot iron in his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m sorry too. It was stupid,” he agreed. Fighting over any woman was stupid, especially the one who had stood him up this afternoon. “I’ll be better in a few days, so I can help you,” he grumbled as he passed by Zane to leave the office.