That was a period of time when his whole world seemed to be crashing down around him. The way he dealt with it was by following in his old man’s footsteps and numbing the pain. He’d nearly followed in his old man’s footsteps by finishing off the job of destroying the Triple C Ranch. Thank God he’d woken up and chosen to get himself sober before he lost everything.
He hadn’t always been unspontaneous. There was a time when he’d loved nothing more than to laugh and have a good time with friends over drinks. When his marriage started heading south, the drinks blotted out the pain and blurred the reality of just how unhappy he and Molly were together. That was a long time ago. He was a new man. Now the only way to stay on track was to stay on schedule. He got up at five thirty every morning, showered, dressed and brewed himself a big cup of joe. He was in his truck by six fifteen, ready to start his daily rounds of the ranch’s 900 acres. The pastures and breeding barns were confined to the 300 acres he’d inherited, but he enjoyed touring the entire property for reasons both practical and spiritual.
He liked to drive around the Campbell land not only to experience the sheer beauty of it but also to remind him of how blessed he was to have inherited the operation and how close he came to losing it before he’d gotten sober. If ever he was tempted to take a drink when he was stressed or tired or lonely, all he had to do was jump in his truck and take in the visual reminder of his blessings. It was better than any twelve-step program—well, maybe not better, but it was a good kick in the ass when he needed to get back on track.
On regular days, when he toured the Triple C, he kept an eye out for things that might cause concern—signs of predators, an anxious horse, a broken fence, a mare that might not be bonding with her foal. He reported the problems to his assistant manager, who made sure the issue was fixed.
After he finished his morning rounds, Ethan usually returned to his office, where he would spend a couple of hours answering emails, poring over results of races in which the ranch’s progeny ran and reviewing the veterinarians’ reports of which mares were in foal and which were heading out to the breeding shed that day.
That Monday Ethan finished his morning’s work around nine o’clock. He went into the office kitchen, filled two metal to-go cups with coffee, grabbed a couple of muffins that his bookkeeper, Allison, had brought in that morning and drove over to the barn on Lucy’s property.
Saturday night when he’d taken her home, Chelsea had mentioned that she was going to head over to the barn this morning to help get Lucy started.
Saturday night things between them felt tenuous—as if it might be the beginning of something good or if there was too much pressure it might all go up in smoke. If he came on too strong he might ruin everything.
So silence had reigned.
Today, however, was a new day. Even if he still felt her kiss on his lips and the mystery of her secret tattoo still haunted him, they needed to talk about the barn before this project got too far out of hand.
* * *
Chelsea jumped at the sound of the barn door opening behind her.
She whirled around to see Ethan sporting two cups of something and a small brown paper bag.
“Good morning,” he said. “I thought I might find you here.”
“I guess so.” She gestured to the goods he was holding. “Either me or someone else. What do you have there?”
He held out one of the cups as he approached. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But I’m glad you did. Thank you. I could use a break right now. I’ve been here since about seven o’clock.”
“Alone?”
Chelsea nodded.
“Where is my sister? Why isn’t she helping you?”
“She’ll be in a little later.”
Lucy had texted her last night with some good news. After she’d gone back into the reception, she’d run into Connor Bryce, who, according to Lucy, was an old family friend. She mentioned something about his being a wheelchair-bound veteran who had recently met and proposed to the love of his life. Saturday night at Shay and Kyle Brighton’s wedding, Lucy had talked Connor and his fiancée into considering her barn for their ceremony and reception. She was having breakfast with them at eight o’clock this morning. Since everything was so new and up in the air, she had specifically asked Chelsea not to mention the meeting to anyone. Not Juliette and especially not Ethan. In fact, the only reason she told Chelsea was because they were supposed to meet at the barn this morning. Chelsea had cheered her on and assured her that she was fine getting started without her. After all, if you didn’t have business, there was no use having a venue.
Of course, she didn’t know Lucy very well, but aside from the pseudo-blackmail stunt, this go-getter attitude made her seem a lot more responsible and on the ball than people gave her credit for. Of course, the proof would be in the results, but they hadn’t even finalized the concept, and Lucy was already out securing clients. Time would tell.
“This is exactly what I was afraid of. There’s work to be done and Lucy is nowhere to be found.”
Chelsea waved him off.
“Don’t be so hard on her. Because really, it’s fine. In fact, I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”
“Until I barged in.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. She was beginning to realize Ethan Campbell had a dry sense of humor that she didn’t always get at first. But at least he had a sense of humor.
“I don’t know yet,” she said. “It depends on what’s in the bag.”
She pointed to the brown paper bag he was still clutching in his left hand.
Smiling, he said, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”
She lifted her chin and shook her head.
He handed her the bag. “Actually, these muffins are something that shouldn’t be missed. The Triple C’s bookkeeper, Allison, makes them from scratch. She calls them chocolate pecan pie muffins.”
Chelsea peered into the bag. “Oh, Lord, that sounds like an addiction waiting to happen.” She claimed one and handed the bag back to Ethan.
“I think we need to sit down and give these our full reverence,” she said. “Do you have time?”
“If I didn’t, I’d make time.”
Chelsea blinked; her heart stuttered but she refused to read anything into his words. Or into the fact that he had brought her coffee and a sinfully delicious breakfast treat.
“Let’s sit over here.” She gestured to an old army trunk that was one of the few things still inside the barn other than a ladder, some sawhorses and an old shovel.
The trunk wasn’t very big, so their knees knocked when they sat down. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to give the other more personal space.
They sat there in companionable silence, enjoying the coffee. And he was right, the chocolate pecan pie muffin was to die for.
“This is so good. Why haven’t you married her, Ethan? Anyone who makes muffins like this would surely make the perfect wife.”
“Someone beat me to the punch. Otherwise, I just might. Though people might gossip about the age difference. She could be my grandmother.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t want to cause a stir.”
“Speaking of potentially causing a stir, I’m concerned that Lucy isn’t here helping you. This is sort of par for the course for her.”
Chelsea turned to face him. Now the top of her calf was pressed against his upper thigh. Real or imagined, she could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Have some faith in your sister. I think you will be pleasantly surprised. I hope you will. But you have to give her a chance to prove herself.”
He regarded her for a moment and she could see the wheels turning in his head. She figured he was probably doing his b
est to choose his words wisely.
“You are my sister’s biggest advocate. Do you always root for the underdog?”
“I suppose I could turn the tables and ask if you always expect the worst of people. But somehow I think you’re just particularly hard on your sister. Ethan, Lucy will live down to your expectations and she would probably live up to them if you gave her some credit.”
“I’m trying to be realistic.”
“I understand. I was always the underdog of my family. I know how it feels when everyone expects the worst of you.”
Ethan scowled as if he found that hard to believe.
“The other day you said your brothers don’t take you seriously, but that’s not the same thing as expecting the worst of you.”
Chelsea shrugged. She felt as if she was dancing along a dangerously fine line between explaining her reasoning and telling him too much.
“All I’m saying is I know how it feels to have a family who doesn’t respect what you do.”
“How can they not respect what you do? You have talent. I can see it, even in the few suggestions you’ve given Lucy.”
He raised his brow and stared off into the distance somewhere as if he was processing everything. For a moment she worried that maybe she had overstepped. She half expected him to ask who she thought she was to come in and stir things up when her own life was such a mess. Then again, Ethan didn’t know that about her and she needed to take care to keep it that way.
“If I am hard on her, it’s only because I care. I don’t want to see her get hurt. I don’t like to see the people I care about get hurt.”
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her left ear. For a moment she thought he was going to lean in and kiss her again. Like he had Saturday night. Today it was just the two of them alone in the barn. No mistletoe. No people goading them. No cameras to capture the moment. Just the two of them doing this unsure pas de deux. She didn’t know why they were both so nervous.
It was just a kiss. And what a kiss it had been.
When she had been alone with her thoughts yesterday and the memory of his lips was still fresh, all she could think about was how they’d lost themselves for a moment, how she’d lost herself and momentarily forgotten how Hadden had betrayed her.
Now they were talking around it—about everything but the kiss. It seemed like they were pretending it had never happened.
She reminded herself that she was in no position to get involved with anyone. Even so, if he leaned in right now and kissed her again, she’d let him.
Except Lucy chose that moment to push through the door.
“Chelsea? Oh, Ethan! Good! You’re both here.” Her exuberance shattered the spell between Chelsea and Ethan. They managed to find the personal space that just moments before had seemed nonexistent. “I have great news.”
Chelsea could tell by the way Lucy was nearly brimming over that the meeting with the potential first client must have gone well.
“Let’s hear it,” Chelsea said. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
Lucy shot Chelsea a knowing look, but proceeded to deliver the news as if it was a surprise for both of them.
“Are you ready for this?” She didn’t wait for them to answer. “Put away all your doubts, dear brother. I have secured my very first client for the Campbell Wedding Barn. Do you like the name? That’s new, too. I had to name the place since this is really going to happen.”
“Details, please,” said Chelsea. She glanced at Ethan, who was looking dubious, impervious to Lucy’s effervescence.
“Ethan, Connor Bryce and his fiancée have agreed to be my very first clients and have their wedding and reception at the Campbell Wedding Barn. They are going to come out for a tour next week.”
Ethan flinched. “Are you kidding? I mean congratulations on scoring your first gig, but aren’t you afraid you might scare them off if you show them the place looking like this?”
Lucy shook her head. “I warned them that they would have to come with an open mind, that the place would be undergoing renovation soon. They promised to bring their imagination, and I promised to give them a discount.”
Chelsea was holding her breath, waiting for Ethan’s response. Lucy must’ve been doing the same because the place was unnervingly quiet.
“Did you discuss dates?” Ethan asked.
“We did. They want to get married next month.”
“That’s impossible,” Ethan said. “How in the world are we going to get the barn in shape in a month? The plans that you have been discussing could take six months to complete. For that matter, you don’t even have plans drawn up or permits drawn. I just don’t see how we can do it.”
Even though he was being pessimistic, the fact that he kept saying we was a good sign.
“I believe we can do this,” Chelsea said. “I’m not licensed in Texas, but I can draft the plans and we can get an architect to pretty them up and sign off on them. It should be enough for permitting—at least according to what I read when I looked it up.”
Again, Lucy and Chelsea were holding their breaths, waiting for Ethan’s reaction. Of course, Lucy didn’t need his approval, but Chelsea already understood that family unity was important to these two.
Ethan’s face softened. He shrugged. “How soon do you think you can have the drafting done?”
“If Lucy and I can finalize the design, I can draft up the plans using a program I have on my laptop. I can finish it in a day or so.”
“Of course, we will pay you,” Ethan said.
“Since I’m not licensed, I don’t know if that’s even legal. Please consider my design services my business-warming gift to you.”
Looking a little skeptical yet resigned, Ethan said, “Looks like we have our work cut out for us. Let me know when the plans are ready and I will help get them to the right people down at City Hall so we can expedite the permitting process. Right now I have to get back to work.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Ethan said to Chelsea. Then he turned to Lucy, “I’m proud of you, sis.”
After Ethan had shut the doors, Lucy squealed, grabbed Chelsea’s hands and began jumping up and down.
“This is really real.” She stopped jumping. “Or if it’s a dream, don’t wake me up because I don’t want to know.”
Chelsea smiled at her. “It’s as real as you want to make it, Lucy. The power is in your hands and you’re off to a great start.”
Lucy looked around the place dreamily. “When I walked in, you and Ethan looked like you were getting cozy.” She smiled. “I told you this would be a win-win.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Chelsea tried not to smile, but she was having a hard time. “Even so. We’ll make this happen.”
“Are you talking about the barn,” Lucy asked, “or your romance with Ethan?”
Chapter Eight
Chelsea was a woman of her word, Ethan thought as he held open the door of City Hall and they stepped out into the sunny spring morning. She and Lucy had finalized a simple design that required minimal construction and could be completed within a few weeks if they all pulled together and worked hard.
Chelsea had drafted the plans in record time. Lucy had prevailed upon an architect friend to look over the drawings. After the guy had signed off and rubber-stamped it, Ethan and Chelsea handed the blueprints off to the permitting department. Lucy had offered to come, but Ethan had given her a pass for selfish reasons. He wanted to be alone with Chelsea.
The clerk had promised it wouldn’t take very long to get an answer—a day or two at the most. First of the week at the very latest, since the planning and zoning committee was meeting on Thursday.
They’d done all the paperwork. Now they waited.
“That seemed easy,” Che
lsea said. Her perfume, something light and floral, teased his senses as she walked next to him down the sidewalk in downtown Celebration.
“I’d hold off on making that comment until after we get the permits,” Ethan said.
Chelsea wrinkled her nose, and the way she looked made his heart compress and then beat a little faster. “Do you foresee there being a problem?”
“No. I hope not. You just never know with bureaucracies. Especially since this is a two-part process. Not only are we asking them to approve the building plan that you so graciously helped Lucy bring to life, but we’re also asking for a zoning variance for the property. As it stands the barn is zoned for private use, but the more I looked into it I don’t think we should have a problem because the Triple C is zoned commercial. Even though we generally don’t have parties in the breeding barns—or at least not the kind of parties we’re talking about—I’m hoping the area of the ranch that is zoned commercial will set a precedent.”
“Let’s hope for the best. You seem pretty connected with all those bureaucrats. If it’s based on popularity, you shouldn’t have a problem.”
Ethan didn’t know why but he found it satisfying that she saw him in a favorable light. Maybe it was because they’d gotten off to such a rocky start when they first met. She was too polite to say it, but it was obvious she thought he was a hard-ass. Of course, he thought she was breaking into Juliette’s house, but looking back on the situation, even he thought he needed to lighten up a little bit.
That was just one of the ways Chelsea Allen seemed to be good for him. She was helping him realize he needed to get out of his own way, out of his head—that he needed to live a little. Hell, she was making him want to do a lot of things he thought he’d never want to do again.
City Hall was located on the south side of Celebration Central Park. Across the lush expanse of green grass, he saw that a group of food trucks had gathered in the public parking lot.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
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