Should've Said No

by Tracy March

  Her eyes glimmered, and an excited, little-girl smile stretched across her face. “Can we?”

  Carden’s heart soared. “As long as you bring dessert.”

  She reached in the Jeep and into the top of her tote, pulling out a floral-paper-wrapped package with a bright green bow—definitely from the basket the Montgomery sisters had given her.

  Sweet.

  Carden grabbed his backpack. “How about I put those in here so your hands will be free for climbing?” She handed him the package and he slipped it into his backpack along with a blanket. “I’ll go up in front of you,” he said. “Check for loose rocks.” He put on the backpack, tightened the straps, and took her hand.

  “Hopefully we’ve had our quota of those for the day,” she said lightly.

  They followed a dirt trail that dead-ended quickly and Carden climbed onto the first rock in their path. The mountain rose at about a thirty-degree angle as far as he hoped to go—a relatively easy climb, depending on how the rocks were stacked. He headed up, with Lindsey close behind. A few spots required hands and feet to negotiate, the rocks’ surfaces warm and sandpapery beneath his touch. He took his time and checked on Lindsey often, the scare of the Jeep incident still fresh in his mind.

  As the terrain began to steepen, Carden reached a large, flat boulder, ideal for them to relax on. He turned and gave Lindsey a hand, helping her onto the boulder. “How about here?”

  She took in the awesome view, but his was even better—360 degrees of Lindsey in snug jeans, turning in front of him. “This is completely off the charts.”

  Happy she was pleased, he slipped the backpack off, unzipped it, and handed her the blanket. Lindsey spread it out on the boulder and they sat, their feet dangling over the edge. The drop-off was nothing compared to the one they’d flirted with on the Jeep trail, but it wasn’t one they’d jump from either. He pulled out the wrapped dessert package, certain there was something delicious inside.

  “I get the royal blue thing now,” Lindsey said as he handed her the package. “Lapis lazuli is the gemstone that gave royal blue its name. In ancient times”—she shrugged—“and until recently, in the scheme of things—it was so scarce and valuable that only royalty could afford it.” She lifted her chin proudly. “They’ve even found beads of lapis dating back to the 7th millennium B.C.”

  Carden raised his eyebrows—Lindsey knew more than a little about lapis. “The eyebrows on King Tut’s funeral mask were made of lapis—another cool historic fact.”

  Lindsey bunched her lips. “Cleopatra used powdered lapis for eye shadow.” She gave him a look that challenged him to one-up her.

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “You had to hit me with Cleopatra and the eye shadow.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder. “I gave you a break. I could’ve gone on about the lapis eyes of the twenty-fifth-century B.C. statue of Ebih-II, or the ultramarine paint pigment made from ground lapis during the Renaissance—usually reserved for painting robes of angels or the Virgin Mary.” She turned her hands palms up. “But the eye shadow seemed more relatable.”

  Carden stared at her. “Who’s the SparkNotes expert now?”

  She bowed her head shyly. “We had lapis at the Smithsonian.” Her tone had gone from playful to sad. She untied the bow on the package and opened the floral paper, revealing some incredible-looking cookies. The scent of cinnamon rose in the air.

  “You miss it?” he asked. She’d attributed the tears he’d seen in her eyes yesterday to missing home and feeling lonesome. He couldn’t even imagine going from working in D.C. at the Smithsonian to starting from scratch in Thistle Bend. Had he not seen her tears, he would’ve sworn she was happy with the change. She always seemed so upbeat and positive.

  “I do,” she said softly as she turned over the wrapping paper and read the scrolling script on the label. “Oatmeal with spiced rum raisins.” She handed him a fat cookie, but didn’t look at him. “But I had a whole year of being laid off to miss it before I got here.” She stared out at the horizon. “I applied for museum jobs at my level all over the place. Even went to a museum a couple times a week just to feel connected. But there were no jobs out there that fit my skill set.” She smiled ruefully and gestured toward the tiny grid of a town in the valley about four-thousand feet below. “Except in Thistle Bend.”

  Carden sat silent for a moment, taking in what she had said, trying to relate. As if starting a museum from scratch wasn’t difficult enough, she had the pressure of deciding how to present the disputed land deal. The Karlssons were trying to influence her, sending her mail before she even arrived, and inviting her to dinner at The Canary. The Crenshaws had to try too, but Carden hated to add to her stress. He was relieved she’d led him right to the subject of the land deal during their picnic. Now he could honestly tell Gran he’d addressed it, and he wouldn’t come across to Lindsey as having ulterior motives. He wanted things between them to be about him and her, not about a family feud she wasn’t even a part of.

  Carden put his arm around her and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry you’re struggling with the change.” He kissed her ear and whispered, “But I’m so damn glad you’re here.”

  Her shoulders tensed and lifted as she drew in a deep breath. She pressed her lips together tightly, nodding. A closer look revealed the glisten of tears in her eyes. The idea of her crying slayed Carden, but he was helpless to fix things for her.

  Except to make her happy here.

  She tipped her head back and blinked away the tears, looking like an angel in the bright light of the sun. “I just need a cookie.” She picked up one, took a hearty bite, and chewed slowly. “Mmm…” Her eyes widened and she pointed to her mouth. “Captain Morgan literally shot out of these raisins.”

  And the Lindsey he knew was back.

  He took a bite of his cookie, hardly needing to verify what she’d said. The Montgomery sisters were known for their extreme baking bewitchment. Chewy oats. Brown sugar. A pinch of cinnamon. And plump raisins bursting with the twang of spiced rum. “Cookie perfection,” he said, and took another bite.

  He pulled a brown paper bag from his backpack, held it in his lap, and fixed his expression with a purposeful pout.

  “What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked, clearly trying not to grin. “What’s in the bag?”

  “I came all prepared for lapis show-and-tell, but you know more about it than I do.”

  “Aw.” She shook her head. “Not a chance. I know a little of its history, but not much about the geology—or should I say gemology?”

  “Either works.”

  Lindsey gave him a pleading look and brushed her fingertips over the back of his hand, sending tingles up his arm. “Show me.”

  A wave of heat surged through him as he held her gaze, willing to show her anything she wanted right about now. He ran his finger beneath the collar of his T-shirt, letting in some cooler air. Before he allowed himself to get sidetracked thinking about what he really wanted to show her, he reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller version of the rocks that were strewn up and down the mountain, including the one they were sitting on. “When it’s fresh out of the ground, lapis is bound by calcite and other minerals. But when it gets wet”—he grabbed a bottle of water from his backpack, opened it, and poured it over the rock—“the blue hue emerges.” He handed her the rock so she could see the color change, and pulled a finished stone out of the bag. “But when it’s cut and polished like this, it practically glows. Golden specks of pyrite dance across the blue, like stars in a denim sky.” He smoothed his thumb over the stone and held it out for her to see.

  “That was really poetic,” she said seriously. “Thinking about it that way makes the stones even more beautiful.”

  Carden had no idea where the words had come from. He’d never said anything like that before—hell, he never said much at all—but he was comfortable enough with her to freely say what had come to his mind. “The shades of blue in the lapis can really vary.” He pulled ou
t several more polished pieces, all different shapes and hues.

  Lindsey held them in her palm and gazed at them with awe, turning them to reveal white veins of calcite, and the golden sparkles of pyrite. “So amazing.”

  Carden’s heart thrummed as he took the last item out of the bag—a small, hinged, black velvet box. “Sometimes the stones look nice with natural edges. Varied colors strung together. Pyrite highlighted by adding gold.” He handed Lindsey the box, focused on keeping his hand steady.

  She looked at him curiously and took the box. The hinge creaked ever so slightly as she opened it, revealing the bracelet he’d picked out just for her—four sections of varied color, stacked lapis stones separated by a single gold bead between sections.

  “Wow.” She blinked several times and ran her finger along the stones, just as she’d done across the back of his hand moments ago. “This is so pretty. Different from any lapis jewelry I’ve ever seen—all the way back to the seventh millennium B.C.” She grinned.

  “All the stones are from this mine.” Carden said, not certain she understood that the bracelet was for her. He pinched it between his fingers and took it out of the box. “Let’s make sure it fits.”

  She set her wide-eyed gaze on him. “This is for me? It’s not just part of the show-and-tell?”

  Carden nodded. He struggled to open the tiny clasp, but finally managed, and put the bracelet on her delicate wrist. “I wanted you to have something that will always remind you of our first date.”

  With a dazed smile on her face, Lindsey turned the bracelet around on her wrist, and held out her arm so they could both admire it. “It’s perfect.” She faced him, leaned in, and kissed him. He cupped the back of her neck and held her there, as the kiss went slowly from sweet to sensual. Lindsey combed her fingers through his hair and pulled him with her as she lay on the blanket. He cradled her head in his hand, followed her down, and melted into her rum-tinged kiss.

  God, this is heaven.

  Carden lost himself in the sensation of her beneath him—sexy, soft, and irresistible, her breast curving against his pec. This wasn’t the place or the time, but that didn’t keep him from longing to be fully on top of her. All over and inside her. His cock hardened as he envisioned pleasing her, and making her his. Making her happy here…with me.

  Chapter 18

  Lindsey woke to the sun streaming into her bedroom through a gap in the curtains, not surprised she hadn’t closed them properly last night. Carden had dropped her off late after their long drive home from the mine and she’d floated through the cabin on a happiness high. As tempting as it had been, she hadn’t asked him to come in afterward. If she had taken him in with her, she might not have let him leave. Not after a day like yesterday. Their delicious picnic. Their close call on the mountain trail. Their fiery hot kisses at the mine.

  He might still be here with her now—and that was the problem. She couldn’t allow anyone in Thistle Bend to wake up to the sight of his Jeep parked at her cabin in the early morning hours. People like Uncle Oscar and Aunt Tansy—or even Holly. Whatever was going on between her and Carden had to stay secret—just like her relation to the Karlssons.

  She picked up her phone from the nightstand and texted Becca.

  Gotta come clean with the cowboy about this Karlsson thing or it’s gonna bite me in the butt. Miss you. Have some pancakes for me!

  Most Sunday mornings, she and Becca used to run to D.C.’s Eastern Market and chow down on their delicious blueberry buckwheat pancakes. After several pancakes, they’d walk the distance back to their apartment, vowing not to eat as much the next week.

  Eating right now. Miss you, too. Get that Karlsson stuff off your chest. You don’t wanna ruin things with your sexy cowboy…

  Lindsey’s heart tumbled, last night’s euphoria dissipating. She held up her arm and gazed at the lapis bracelet he’d given her, at the beautiful varied blue stones stacked with gold beads between. Her secrets were like the lapis stones—varied but related, stacked tightly, and meant to remain hidden. Someone had unearthed the stones, and made them into something beautiful, but Lindsey couldn’t imagine things turning out so well with her secrets. If she wanted to be with Carden—and she was beginning to think she might—she couldn’t hide her secrets much longer.

  She got up, made the bed, and took a shower, expecting Carden to be there around noon to paint a coat of primer on the cabin. The morning was bright, yet chilly, ideal for yoga pants and her favorite casual top—light blue and flowing, with three-quarter-length bell sleeves. It matched her new bracelet perfectly.

  Lindsey headed into the kitchen, smiling at the vase of colorful wildflowers Carden had given her. Despite her secrets, their first date had been unforgettable, and she couldn’t wait for the next one.

  As long as it isn’t in town.

  She made a cup of coffee, warmed up some mini cinnamon rolls from Milly and Merri’s basket, and grabbed a Colorado history book from her Thistle Bend stack. Sitting at her tiny dining table, she ate her decadent breakfast, and thumbed through the book. As she’d found over and over, Thistle Bend history was documented in a few vague paragraphs and most of the book highlighted larger Colorado towns. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Closing the book, she took the last gooey bite of her cinnamon roll, just as someone knocked on the door.

  Carden?

  Her heart fluttered. She hurried to the door and opened it.

  “Morning.” Holly smiled, standing arm in arm with her grandpa Fred, who was dressed in overalls, holding a bushel basket in his arms. Lindsey hadn’t noticed the resemblance between them when she’d met Fred at Carden’s, but now that they were side by side on her front porch, the similarities were obvious. Their square jaws. Their hazel eyes. Their straight noses—although Holly’s was more delicate. Either way, they’d both fallen into a darn good-looking gene pool.

  “Brought you some farm fresh fruits and vegetables.” Fred tipped the weighty-looking basket toward Lindsey, and Holly looked on proudly.

  Lindsey flattened her hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet.” She peered into the basket, shiny red tomatoes and bright yellow squash on top. “You must have a greenhouse.”

  Fred nodded. “Huge and heated.”

  Milly and Merri had told her about the challenges of growing warm-season crops in the area. The summer temperature needed to be hotter, plants needed more time to mature, and late-August frosts could be killer. There’d been even more to it than that—the sunlight, the drainage. Even so, Lindsey thought it might be fun to plant a little garden next year.

  Next year?

  She stumbled over the thought. Would she still be in Thistle Bend next summer? She’d rented the cabin for six months. The museum would be open before her lease was up because the people of Thistle Bend had proven they were very serious about their museum. If they were happy with how it turned out, she might be able to leverage her work and get back to D.C. even faster than she’d hoped.

  Or you might get kicked out of town if everything falls apart.

  “Come in,” Lindsey said. She stepped aside as Holly and Fred entered the cabin.

  “I’ll just set this over here for you.” Fred carried the basket to the kitchen counter and placed it next to the one Lindsey had gotten from Milly and Merri. From the looks of things, she wouldn’t have to buy food for a month.

  Lindsey gave Fred a hug. “Thank you so much.”

  “Happy to do it,” he said. “Let me know what you like and I’ll bring you some more.”

  “Only if you let me pay you,” Lindsey said.

  Fred waved his hand. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  “No one pays him,” Holly said, not seeming bothered by it.

  “They don’t?”

  “Not in money.” Holly patted his stomach. “In food. He gives fruit and vegetables to every restaurant in town, so he usually eats for free.”

  “That sounds like a great deal,” Lindsey said.
r />   “He also randomly leaves baskets of whatever’s fresh on people’s front porches.” Holly leaned over and retied one of her bright yellow Chuck Taylor high-tops. They looked adorable with her black leggings and plaid flannel shirt.

  Fred smiled bashfully. “I get invited to dinner a lot, too.”

  “Well, I’m certainly going to have you over, then,” Lindsey said.

  “You get that museum open first,” he said. “Then we’ll pick a night.” He glanced at the book on the breakfast table, picked it up, and studied the cover. “Looking for something in particular in here?”

  Lindsey shrugged. “I’d love to find a more detailed account of Thistle Bend’s early years, and how the town was shaped by the disputed land deal. It’s hard to find a whole lot about it. But I have learned that Ruby Eileen Crenshaw was a real force in business after the deal went down.”

  “Hmm…” Fred furrowed his brow. “Not immediately, from the history I know.”

  Lindsey’s heart hitched. She looked at him expectantly.

  “The Crenshaws came from Denver,” he said. “Where Ruby Eileen trained to be a nurse. She went back there shortly after the land deal to take care of her pregnant sister-in-law.” He set the book back on the table and bowed his head. “Poor woman died during childbirth. Not long after that, Ruby Eileen came back here with her brother and her nephew. That’s when she got down to business.”

  “Wonder if the town would even be here if it wasn’t for her?” Holly asked.

  Fred shrugged. “We can’t really speculate on that.”

  “Good thing that’s not what she said when it came to opening the mines.” Holly winked.

  Lindsey and Fred laughed.

  Fred gestured toward the small living area. “Dean’s going to love what you’ve done to the place,” he said.

  “I hope so.” Lindsey would definitely leave it in better shape than she’d found it. Carden was seeing to that, and she was doing her part, too.