Читать книгу A Maverick for Christmas - Leanne Banks - Страница 10

Cade would have mainlined his third cup of coffee after lunch if it had been possible. He hadn’t slept well last night and had felt off all day. He stripped another screw for the designer desk he was making for an entertainment hotshot in L.A., and swore under his breath.

His father and partner, Hank, was talking, but Cade was trying to focus on the desk instead of the way Laila’s sister had kissed him last night. And worse yet, he thought, closing his eyes in deep regret, the way he’d kissed her back.

Cade tried to shake off the thoughts and images that had been tormenting him since he’d apologized and burned rubber back to his house. Thoughts about her had haunted him. Her wide brown eyes, her silky, long brown hair and her ruby lips swollen from the friction of his mouth against hers. His own lips burned with the memory, and he rubbed the back of his hand against them, trying to rub away the visual and the guilt. What the hell had he been thinking?

Impatience rushed through him and he grabbed a file. His mind torn in different directions, he stabbed his other hand. Pain seared through him, blood gushed from his hand. Cade swore loudly and stood.

“What are you doing, son?” his father demanded, striding toward him to take a look at Cade’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Cade said. “I’ll bandage it and it will be fine.”

“You better be up-to-date with your tetanus shot,” Hank said.

“I am,” Cade said. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Based on your performance this morning…” his father began.

“Lay off, Dad,” Cade said, looking down at the man who had taught him so much about carpentry and life, the man who’d never recovered from the death of his wife several years ago. None of them had really recovered from the death of Cade’s mother. She’d balanced her husband’s stern taskmaster nature with softness and smiles.

“Son, I don’t want to have to say this, but you need to snap out of your funk. Laila is getting married to someone else, and you’re just going to have to get used to it,” Hank said bluntly.

Shock slapped through Cade as he stared at his father. He opened his mouth to say he hadn’t been thinking about Laila then closed it. He sure as hell didn’t want to tell his father he’d been thinking about Laila’s little sister Abby.

“You bandage up that hand and go check in on the community center. They’ve requested a few things for their Thanksgiving program.”

Cade shook his head. “We don’t have time for me to go to the community center now. We have too much work.”

Hank shook his head. “Get some air, do something different. You’ll come back better than ever.”

“You know that since we’re equal partners, you can’t be giving orders,” Cade said.

Hank sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, consider it a request from your elderly father.”

Cade felt a twitch of amusement. His father was still a hard driver, especially in the shop. “Elderly my—”

“Get on out of here,” Hank said.

Cade pulled on his jacket and walked out the door, feeling his father’s gaze on him as he left. He didn’t want his father worrying about him. With a few exceptions during his teen years, Cade had made a point of not causing his parents much grief. Once his mother had gotten sick, his younger brothers had acted up, and Cade knew his father had needed to be able to rely on him. Work had gotten them through the rough times, and for Cade, the loss hadn’t stopped with his mother. There’s been Dominique and he’d felt the promise of happiness with her before she’d been taken from him.

Stepping outside the shop, he walked toward the community center a few blocks away. He shook his head, willing the cold air to clear it. He shouldn’t be thinking about Abby. It was wrong in so many ways. Putting his mind on the community center’s Thanksgiving needs should point him in a different direction. He welcomed the change.

Cade walked inside the glass door of the community center and headed toward the gym at the back of the building. He pushed open the door and his breath hitched at the sight before him. The object of his distraction handed a baby to the community center’s children’s director, Mrs. Wrenn, and began to climb a ladder holding a humongous horn of plenty.

“What the hell?” he muttered, walking toward the front of the room.

Abby continued to climb the ladder while she lugged the horn of plenty upward. Cade couldn’t permit her to continue. “Stop,” he said, his voice vibrating against the walls.

Abby toppled at the sound of his voice and whipped her head in his direction. “Cade?”

“Stay right there,” he said, closing the space between him and the ladder. He grabbed each side of the metal ladder. “Okay, you can come down now.”

Abby’s hair swinging over her shoulders, she frowned at him. “Why? I’ve just got a little farther to go.”

“Not while I’m here,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears.

Abby shook her head. “But it won’t take another minute for me to finish—”

“Come down,” he said. “It’s not safe. I’ll handle it.”

She paused long enough to make him uncomfortable. “Abby,” he said.

“Okay, okay, but I was doing fine before you got here,” she said, descending the ladder.

“That’s a matter of opinion,” he muttered under his breath as he watched her bottom sway as she wobbled.

She missed the last step and fell against him. He caught her tight and absently grabbed the horn of plenty, his heart pounding.

“Oops,” she said after the fact.

Some part of him took note of the sensation of her breasts against his chest, her pelvis meshed against his as she slid downward. His brain scrambled, but he fought it.

“I really would have been fine,” she insisted.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. “I’ll handle the rest of this.”

“You’re not being sexist, are you?” she demanded. “Because I really can do this.”

Cade felt his heart rate rise again. “Not sexist,” he said. “Just practical. I’m more athletic than you are.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I played soccer and—”

“I have more upper-body strength,” he said, deciding to end the argument once and for all.

He felt Abby’s admiring gaze over his broad shoulders. “I can’t argue with that,” she said.

He felt an odd thrill that he quickly dismissed. “I’ll go ahead and hang this horn of plenty,” he said. “Do you mind holding the ladder?”

“Not at all,” Abby said cheerfully.

Cade climbed the ladder and hung the horn of plenty. He descended to the floor. “My father told me you need a few things for your Thanksgiving show.”

Mrs. Wrenn jiggled the toddler and Abby extended her arms to the small boy. “Come here, Quentin.”

The toddler fell toward her and Abby laughed, catching him in her arms. “Hiya, sweetie,” she said.

The mocha-colored child beamed and giggled as Abby cradled him, clearly feeling safe with her. Cade saw a flash of Abby, laughing, burgeoning with pregnancy and another baby on her hip. Her brown eyes were sexy with humor and womanly awareness.

Cade shook his head, snapping him out of his crazy visual. “How can I help you, Mrs. Wrenn?”

The elderly woman beamed at him. “Thank you so much for coming. We need a ship hull and a table for the pilgrim and Native American dinner. It doesn’t have to be too special.”

“We can take care of that,” Cade said. “We’ll get a donated table and dress it up.”

“That would be wonderful,” Mrs. Wrenn said.

“And I’ll work out something with a ship’s hull during the next week. How many people do you want on it?”

Mrs. Wrenn winced. “Twenty.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Good to know. We can take care of that.”

Mrs. Wrenn gave a big sigh and clasped her hands together. “Thank you. I knew we could count on you, Cade. We want to give all of the children a chance to feel like stars.”

Cade nodded, catching Abby’s eye and feeling a flash of kinship with her. He was surrounded by people who either were or felt as if they needed to be stars, but he couldn’t be less interested. If he read Abby’s wry gaze correctly, then she felt the same way.

“I can do that,” he said.

“I knew you could,” Mrs. Wrenn said.

He glanced at Abby and the sexy look in her gaze took him off guard. He fastened his gaze on the graying Mrs. Wrenn. “Any particular colors you have in mind?”

The director shrugged. “Harvest colors.”

He nodded. “I’ll take that back to the shop. Anything else you need?”

“Nothing else I can think of,” Mrs. Wrenn said and glanced at Abby. “Is there anything else that comes to mind? Abby has been nice enough to fill in since my volunteer helper Mrs. Jones had to have bunion surgery.”

Abby glanced at the director, then looked at Cade. “Not a thing, but if you get lost, you can contact Mrs. Wrenn or me.”

“I don’t get lost,” Cade said.

“That’s a shame,” Abby said under her breath, then lifted her shoulders. “Then if you need suggestions.”

He shot her a sideways look. “Who does Quentin belong to?” he asked, unable to squelch his curiosity.

Abby’s gaze turned serious. “His mother, Lisa, has passed her G.E.D. and has completed her L.P.N. She wants to get her R.N. She’s just nineteen and one of my ROOTS girls. I told her I would step in as often as possible during her education. She’s halfway through her R.N.”

He felt a shot of admiration. “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s a good mom. It’s the least I can do.”

Cade’s respect for Abby grew. Big brown eyes, long brown hair, she was just Laila’s little sister, but now she seemed like so much more. He glanced at the toddler and couldn’t hold back a smile. “How are you babysitting with your courses?”

“Just call me Superwoman,” she deadpanned. “Kinda like you’re Superman.”

He felt a crazy hitch in his chest and inhaled quickly. “I’m no Superman.”

“Nobody else knows that,” she said and shifted the baby on her hip.

His mind flashed. Body. Baby. Come-hither smile. Heaven help him.

Cade cleared his throat. “I’ll get back to the shop.”

“Thank you for coming, Cade,” Mrs. Wrenn said in her squeaky voice.

“Let us know when you need a break,” Abby offered, her eyes lowered to a sexy half-mast.

Cade felt a rush of arousal race through him. He swore to himself and turned away. “See you ladies later,” he said.

“Anytime,” Abby said, and the sexy invitation sent his blood rushing to his groin. Cade swore again, but he suspected the fresh air might not cure his distraction.

Abby was surviving at home, but barely. Although she was happy her sister Laila had found true love and wanted to marry, it was hard to deal with the constant wedding plans. Plus, her cousins were headed down the aisle, too.

Enough was enough and it felt like pulling teeth to get Cade to look at her as if she was more than a fourth grader. Reality beckoned, however, and Abby was forced to join her family for a dinner with Jackson Traub and his sister, Rose. Jackson had managed what many other men had tried by winning over her sister Laila.

“To Laila and Jackson,” her father toasted, lifting his glass. “May your love be bigger than your wills.”

“Here, here,” Abby’s mother said.

“Yeah,” Abby muttered under her breath and took a big gulp of sparkling wine.

Laila beamed and looked at Jackson. The love between them sizzled. Laila lifted her glass to Jackson and her eyelids lowered in an intimate gaze. “Who would have ever known?”

“Who?” Jackson echoed and clicked her glass against his.

Abby felt a sliver of envy that traveled deeper than her soul. What she wouldn’t give to have Cade look at her that way. Not in this lifetime, she thought.

Thank goodness the Cateses understood their priorities. Food was near the top of the list. Soon enough, a platter of roasted chicken was passed her way, followed by mashed potatoes. After that, green beans and biscuits.

Abby took a small spoonful of each dish as it passed. Her mind was preoccupied with Cade. Her appetite was nearly nonexistent. The good news was that everyone’s attention was focused on Laila and Jackson, so no one would notice the fact that she wasn’t the least bit hungry.

Abby nodded and smiled and pushed her food around her plate then murmured an excuse to get her away from the table. She sought peace in her backyard. It was freezing, but that was no surprise. Abby enjoyed the freezing air that entered her lungs. Despite the fact that it was too cold for words, she was thrilled with the solemn quiet her father’s ranch offered at moments like these.

She meandered past the porch and shoved her hands into her pockets.

Seconds later, she heard voices from the back porch.

“I know it’s crazy, but Laila is my dream come true,” Jackson Traub said. “I never expected it, and she took me by surprise.”

“I’m so glad,” Rose Traub said. “I was surprised, but happy when it happened. I love that you never thought it would happen to you.”

“Thanks,” Jackson said, unable to conceal his amusement.

“Humility is the beginning of wisdom,” Rose said.

Jackson swore. “You’re tough.”

“You taught me. I’m just not sure I’ll ever find my true love. Maybe he doesn’t exist. I feel like I’ve dated every man in Thunder Canyon.”

Abby swallowed a sound of frustration that threatened to bubble from her throat. Rose had been out with a lot of Thunder Canyon men. She’d even gone out with Cade, and that hadn’t set well with Abby, at all.

“You haven’t dated every man. There’s still old man Henson and his friends,” Jackson joked.

Abby resisted the urge to laugh, but Rose didn’t. Her warm chuckle drifted through the cold air. “Thanks for the encouragement. Mr. Henson is eighty-five if he’s a day.”

“Just kidding,” Jackson said. “But the truth is you can find your true love. I did. Don’t give up.”

“I’m not sure I can count on that,” she said.

“Give it a little longer,” Jackson said. “You might be surprised.”

Seconds later, silence fell over Abby as she stood outside the deck in the dark. She wasn’t quite sure what she should take away from the cold night and the conversation she’d overheard.

Abby stared into the horizon, feeling the stars from the sky watching over her. She should leave, she thought, but she felt the stars tracking her. She wanted—no, needed—to feel the stars guiding her to her future. More than anything, she wished a lucky star was shining down on her. A star of love. If not love, then an antidote for love.

Fixing her gaze on the brightest star, she felt a ripple of realization shimmy down her spine. She’s wanted Cade as long as she could remember. She’d pushed herself to flirt with him the other night. Abby felt as if her passion for Cade would never be returned. But she would never be sure if she didn’t put herself out there.

Abby had never been much of a flirt, and she had no idea how to be a seductress, but maybe she needed to give it her best shot now. Maybe she needed to do everything she could to make Cade see her as a woman, a desirable woman who wanted him. At that moment, she made a promise to herself. No more shy little sister, hiding behind Laila. Abby needed to find her inner sexpot.

Abby cringed at the thought. Okay, maybe not sexpot, but seductress had an empowering ring to it…when it didn’t make her snicker.

Two days later, Cade took a break from work at the shop and headed for the new bakery in town, the Mountain Bluebell Bakery. He was feeling deprived lately and figured giving in to his sweet tooth was the least of possible evils. Cherry pie or something better sounded great.

He exhaled and his breath sent out a foggy spritz. Noticing a crowd ahead, he slowed as he approached. A news team was interviewing several different citizens of Thunder Canyon.

“So, do you think a down-home ribs meal is good enough to keep customers happy?” the newscaster asked. “Or do you think tight T-shirts and short shorts are necessary in today’s market?”

“Nothing wrong with short shorts and tight T-shirts,” a man from the crowd yelled.

“But is it necessary?” the newscaster asked.

“Well,” the man said, “I guess not. But it sure doesn’t hurt.”

The crowd laughed.

Suddenly a microphone was put in Cade’s face. “What about you? Do you think a tight T-shirt and short shorts are more important than a home-cooked meal?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “The food and service are great at DJ’s. No need for tight T-shirts.”

The reporter moved past him and Cade automatically searched the crowd. His gaze landed on Abby on the opposite side of the street. He wondered what she thought of all this. She’d seemed a bit skeptical of the skimpy outfits of LipSmackin’ Ribs.

Her gaze met his, and he lifted his hand and gave her the hi sign. She nodded and moved toward him.

Cade noticed the way her long brown hair swung over her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her plump lips shiny and distracting. She had the kind of lips any man would want to kiss.

“Hi,” she said as she approached him. “Can you believe this?”

He nodded at the crazy press. “Not really. Who would have thought a debate over ribs would bring national news to Thunder Canyon?”

“I’m with you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd behind her. “What are you doing out and about?”

“I’m taking a break and checking out the new bakery down the street. I hear they’ve got some good stuff,” he said.

“Mind if join you?” she asked.

Something told him he should refuse, but he didn’t give in to it. “What about school?”

“I don’t have a class until tonight.”

He frowned. “You take night classes? Why don’t you stick to day?” he asked.

Her lips twitched. “Because not all of my classes are available during the day.”

“Hmm.”

“Are you going to buy me a chocolate tart or not?” she asked.

He blinked. “Yeah, I’ll buy you a tart. Let’s go.”

He led the way to the bakery and they ordered their pastries and coffee.

Moments later, the two of them sat at a table with coffee, a chocolate tart and a slice of cherry pie à la mode. Like many of the shops around town, the bakery featured both Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations. The shop owners in Thunder Canyon weren’t dummies. They would maximize the holiday season to get the most out of it. Cade, however, wasn’t big on Christmas since his mother and Dominique had died years ago.

Abby took a spoonful of chocolate tart into her mouth and closed her eyes in satisfaction. “Now, that is good.”

“Yeah,” Cade said, fighting a surge of arousal as he took a bite of his cherry pie.

“No, really,” she said, lifting a spoon toward Cade. “You should try this.”

Cade glanced into her brown eyes then felt his gaze dip deeper to her cleavage. When had Abby Cates gotten cleavage?

Cade cleared his throat. “I’m game,” he said and opened his mouth.

He felt her slide the spoon and decadent chocolate past his lips onto his tongue. His temperature rose. He swallowed.

“Good,” he managed.

“Of course it is,” she murmured.

Cade met her gaze and felt a wicked stirring throughout him. Something about Abby made him…hard.

She took a sip of coffee and looked at Cade from the rim of her coffee mug. “Coffee’s not really my favorite,” she said. “When it comes to hot drinks, I’d rather have hot chocolate or apple cider.”

“I’ll take coffee,” Cade said.

“But what if you had a choice?” Abby asked. “What would you choose?”

“Coffee with cream and hazelnut,” he said.

“Smells delicious,” Abby said, closing her eyes and smiling.

“But do you want to drink it?” he asked.

“Not so much,” she said. “But I would love to smell it.”

He chuckled and she opened her eyes. “What’s wrong with smelling?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

She got to the end of her tart and there was one bite left. “Bet you want it,” she said, waving the spoon in front of his mouth.

The motion was incredibly seductive, and he found himself craving what she offered. Or maybe he was craving what he wanted. He couldn’t quite tell what Abby was offering, but it was a big no-no. Or was it?

He clasped his hand over hers, the last bite of chocolate hanging between them.

“Take it,” she urged.

Her voice was too sexy to ignore. He grabbed her hand and drew it to his mouth. Cade enveloped the chocolate with his mouth and swallowed it down. The motion was both carnivorous and sexual.

Abby’s brown eyes widened in surprise.

“What did you expect?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something more…”

“Polite?” he asked.

Her eyes darkened. “Maybe. If so, I’m glad I was wrong.”

His gut tightened. “You need to be careful. You’re asking for trouble.”

“Just from you,” she said.

His heart hammered against his rib cage. “This is a bad idea.”

“There are worse ideas,” she countered.

He felt himself begin to sweat. How could Laila’s little sister affect him this way? It wasn’t possible.

“Go away, little girl,” he said and pulled back.

“I’m not a little girl,” she said.

“You’re too young for me,” he said.

“Says who?” she challenged.

Her defiance caught him by surprise. “Says anyone with any sanity.”

Abby leaned toward him, her eyes full of everything he shouldn’t be thinking. “Haven’t you heard? Sanity’s overrated.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Abby. But I’m not playing,” he told her with finality.