The bell over the door rang, but I was too busy trying to clear my head from the sudden twirl and dip maneuver to greet the customer. Chaya threw a smile in the general direction of the front door before asking if I wanted to come to the ranch barbecue.
“No, thanks. I have dinner plans with Sam,” I said while still a little dizzy from the dancing.
Chaya’s squeal of excitement was joined by a familiar clearing of the throat.
Barney.
“Oh, sorry, Barney,” I said, brushing my hair back from my eyes and straightening my glasses. “I didn’t realize that was you.”
“I guess not,” he said with a sniff. “I came by to see how you were faring after your scare yesterday.”
I tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Fine, thank you. How was the reading circle this morning?”
His forehead crinkled for a second like he didn’t follow, but then he must have remembered how much I loved hearing about the kids’ reading time at the library. “It was… normal? The same as always, really.”
“Who volunteered today?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager. Reading to the children at the library was one of my favorite things to do, but Barney had taken me off the volunteer list a while ago, adamant that it would be “inappropriate” for his “special someone” to be involved in a library program like that. Maybe now that we were no longer together like that, I could get back on the rotation.
“Ellen Amana,” he said with a wave of his hand as if it wasn’t important.
It was. Ellen was the mayor’s wife, who did a horrible job reading to the kids. It was clear she hated it and only did it for appearances.
I bit my tongue to keep from saying so. Thankfully, Chaya broke in. “Mr. Balderson, do you happen to have a book on how to become a kick-ass horsewoman in forty-eight hours or less?”
Barney blinked at her like she was an alien being from a faraway planet. “I’m not sure that’s possible. Mastering the equestrian arts is a complex and nuanced endeavor. But I’m sure I have some picture books in the children’s section that could get you off to the right start,” he said, barely holding back a sniff of disapproval. “Not to mention several tomes about proper comportment for young ladies.”
Chaya’s nostrils widened in a silent laugh. “No need for that one, Mr. B. I’m good, thanks.” She glanced back at me. “You should really get going if you want to shower before your dinner date with Sam.”
I opened my mouth to remind her that the date was tomorrow night, and I wasn’t even sure it was a date, but she winked at me. “Just kidding. Maybe you could stick around and explain whether I’m supposed to inventory the bulk spices by weight or container.”
It was a ridiculous question because the Honeyed Lemon didn’t sell spices in bulk, but thankfully, Barney took it as his cue to leave but not before pulling me aside.
“Tell me you’re not having dinner with that man,” he said in a low voice as if he hadn’t found out about it from Chaya herself.
“I am having dinner with him.”
He looked truly shocked. “He’s a stranger. He’s a drifter.”
“He’s friends with Tiller and Mikey,” I corrected. “He’s in town for a few days to visit them on his way out to California.”
“You barely know those two either. Truman, really. Why this need to befriend everyone around you? It’s like you’re trying to prove something when you have nothing to prove. You’re fine just the way you are, sweet pea. There’s no need to make yourself into something you’re not.”
Was that what I was doing? I thought back to my interactions with Sam, Mikey, and Tiller. Had I been trying to be someone I wasn’t? I didn’t think so.
“They seem to like me as I am,” I began, a little unsure.
“Be that as it may, I think you’re better off letting me take you out for a nice dinner. We could go to that Chinese place you like.”
Before I could answer, Chaya called out another inane question about comparing ounces to grams and why did the basil, bay leaf, and caraway blend sound like a folk band name.
Barney cleared his throat to regain my attention. “Perhaps you’ll come see me at the library when you leave here so we can speak further?”
“Perhaps,” I said.
But I didn’t.
7
Sam
On the drive back to Rockley Lodge, I tried my best to feel regret over kissing Truman. It wasn’t fair to lead him on when I was simply passing through Aster Valley. He didn’t seem like the casual hookup kind of guy, and I was the king of casual connections.
But, god. Those full lips, that tight little body… the way his nose wrinkled when his glasses slipped down a little. The man was irresistible.
I’d noticed the broken gate again when pulling out of his driveway and had made a mental note to grab some supplies and come over early enough tomorrow to fix it before dinner. If Truman had people in town who didn’t like him, he needed better security than he had now.
I wondered idly how the security was at his shop. Mikey had pointed it out to me earlier on our drive through town. The Honeyed Lemon was in a two-story historic brick building on the end of a string of similar buildings that made up part of the main drag of the little town of Aster Valley. Several of them had been abandoned somewhere along the way, but many of them had newish, seemingly thriving boutiques and restaurants in them. It was nice to see the town doing fairly well even without the ski resort running.
When I got back to the lodge, it was suspiciously silent until I heard enthusiastic sex sounds coming from the direction of the kitchen. I quickly turned on my heel and went right back out the front door, deciding a nice nature walk would do me some good before dinner.
It was hard not to be, well… hard… after hearing that. Tiller was a professional NFL wide receiver with a killer body, and Mikey was small and flexible. Even though I had no real-life interest in sleeping with either man, it was hard not to imagine how hot the two of them would be together. Tiller’s hands were multimillion-dollar assets, and I was fairly sure they were just as talented on my best friend’s body as they were on the football field. Mikey always got a dreamy look on his face when talking about Tiller’s hands, and it was enough to set my imagination in motion.
I forgot the walk and threw myself down in one of the wooden rocking chairs on the front porch instead. The afternoon light was turning that magical golden color that signaled my favorite time of day. I propped my feet on the porch railing and tried to relax and enjoy the moment with a few deep breaths.
There was a fresh herbal smell coming from something nearby, and I wondered if Truman would be able to identify it with only a sniff. Probably.
And he’d lean over to sniff the mystery plant which would stick that sexy ass up in the air again. It hadn’t been that long since I’d hooked up with someone, but for some reason, Truman Sweet’s slim form was doing it for me. It had stuck to my brain cells like a very sexy Velcro strip, and I was having trouble plucking it off.
I forced myself to remember I was just passing through. Work had been hectic lately, and the situation with my sister had done a number on my stress level. All I had was my reputation as a hard worker and a contractor who came in on time and under budget. I didn’t have a lot of capital. I had business loans that I was constantly juggling between sending out invoices and getting paid. My profits either went into the business or went to my mom and sisters.