Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2) (8 page)

“Yes, Chef,” she said meekly.

He gave her a look that told her he was thinking about her bedroom again, too. But then he turned away and produced a box of chocolates from one of the two big plastic boxes.

“These were originally meant to go with coffee,” he said.

Except they’d gone to bed instead. And the words, unsaid, sat awkwardly between them.

“Thank you. Sage’s chocolates are the best in the county,” she said, recognizing the packaging instantly.

“Sage’s dark caramels with sea salt are better than anything in Bozeman,” he said.

“Better than anything in Paris?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

“I’d say they’re on a par,” he said.

“Would you like one?” she asked.

He indicated his wet hands. “I don’t want to put soap bubbles all over them.”

On impulse, she took a chocolate from the box and fed it to him. His lips touched her fingers, making her shiver; and he closed his eyes momentarily. In bliss because of the chocolate? she wondered. Or in embarrassment because of what she’d just done?

He opened his eyes again. “In other circumstances, Rachel, I’d like to get to know you better. I’d really like to see where this thing between us could go. But I can’t offer anyone anything right now,” he said, his voice husky. “And, just to be clear, the problem isn’t you, it’s
me
.”

“Same here,” she said. “I need time to get over…” She quite couldn’t bring herself to say Nick’s name.

He misunderstood. “You’re still in love with your ex?”

She shook her head. “I stopped loving him when I caught him cheating on me. Though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pass that particular bit of information on.”

“Of course I won’t. But he cheated on you? Nasty.” He grimaced. “It’s understandable that you need time to get over being hurt.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, as I said, I can always use a friend.”

Time to be adult about this. “Me, too.” She paused. “If you’re free tomorrow night, you could come out with us all to Rocco’s Italian. We’re going for dinner.” Well, duh. It wouldn’t be breakfast in the evening, would it? What a stupid thing to say.

“You want me to come out with your posse of girls?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“That’d be my older sister, her two best friends and my two best friends,” she confirmed.

“Thanks, but going out for dinner with six women is just a bit on the scary side. Can I take a rain check?”

The smile in his eyes was just enough to give her the confidence to say, “You could always be an honorary girl for the night, Ry.”

He laughed, then. “Rach, I think we both know I’m not a girl.”

Yeah. And how.

He leaned over and stole a kiss. “You’re lovely, Rachel Cassidy. Don’t let anyone ever make you think otherwise. Your ex was a grade A idiot and you deserve a lot better than him.”

And Ryan was the kindest man she’d ever met, apart from her father and her brother. “Thank you.”

“And I’m sorry things can’t be different.”

So was she. “It’s the wrong time – for both of us – and we just have to accept that.” She picked up a dish towel. “At least let me dry up. Or are you funny about other people touching your work stuff?”

“It’s not that,” he said, taking the dish towel from her. “But it’s your birthday and, as I said before, in my rule book you don’t do chores on your birthday. Sit down and eat chocolate instead. Chef’s orders.”

When he put it like that, what else could she do?

When he’d finished drying up his kitchen equipment and packed it away in the boxes, she said, “Thank you for tonight. For all of it.” She paused. “And if I get interviewed for the
Copper Mountain Chronicle
about our date, then I’ll talk about your food and only your food. Well, and obviously Josh and Molly.”

“Sounds good.” He kissed her cheek. “Well. I’d better get back to Gram. See you around. And enjoy the rest of your birthday weekend.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “See you around.”

She forced herself not to watch him from the window as he drove away. Just good friends was the only real option they had. She’d made enough mistakes in the past, and she wasn’t going to compound them by wishing for something she couldn’t have.

“If only” were the saddest words in the world. And Rachel Cassidy had no intention of being sad anymore.

‡

R
yan couldn’t get
Rachel out of his head. That sweet, shy smile. The look of wonder in her blue, blue eyes. The way she cried out when she came.

He spent half of Sunday morning trying and failing to stop thinking about her, and then he ended up doing what he always did when he didn’t want to let himself think – he headed for the kitchen. As he beat the choux pastry with a wooden spoon, he kept telling himself, “She’s just a friend.
Just
a friend. Not a lover. Just a friend.”

If he repeated it enough, maybe his head would get the message. And his libido was just going to have to put up with it.

By lunchtime, he had a pile of profiteroles filled with crème pâtissière. It was a while since Ryan had made a French-style celebration cake, but he dipped the little cream puffs in caramel before placing them on a dish in a circle, and building up the layers to make a pyramid. Finally he dipped two forks into the caramel, held them together for a few seconds and then pulled them wide apart to make thin strands, which he wrapped around the pyramid so it looked as if it sat within a gossamer cage. Then he decorated the whole thing with gold-colored candied almonds to make a perfect French
croquembouche
.

And of course you would make a birthday cake for a friend, he told himself. It was nothing to do with trying to impress Rachel. He wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone. Including a petite, shy, pretty doctor who made him feel all kinds of things he really didn’t have time to feel.

“That’s pretty,” Phyllis said, walking into the kitchen and seeing what he was working on. “Is that for us?”

“No, it’s for a friend,” Ryan said. “Though I have a few spare profiteroles, so I can make another one for us if you like.”

“No, that’s fine, honey. You don’t have to go to all that trouble.” His grandmother smiled at him. “But I’m glad you’re still doing the kind of baking you did in France. I still feel bad that you’ve come back to Marietta for my sake. I can look after myself, you know.”

“I know,” he fibbed. They both knew that Phyllis forgot a few too many things nowadays to be able to look after herself. Plus she’d had a couple of falls recently, which had shaken her up. He was much happier being close by so he could be there right away when his grandmother needed him. “Anyway, I like living in Marietta.” That bit at least was true. He had good memories of the small town where he’d grown up, and everyone had accepted him back from Bozeman without too many questions.

“You’re a good man, Ry,” she said softly. “Your mom, your dad and your grandpa would be so proud of you.”

The lump in Ryan’s throat felt a mile wide. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled. “Gram, I’m going into town to drop this off a bit later.” On impulse, he added, “Would you like to come with me? Maybe we could put some flowers on Grandpa’s grave.” It would do his grandmother good to get some fresh air. Plus, apart from the time she spent at the care center, she rarely wanted to leave the house nowadays, and that worried him.

“Thanks for asking, honey, but I’m a little tired,” Phyllis said – just as he’d half-expected her to.

Maybe she was right. It was cold and there was still snow on the ground, so the churchyard would be slippery underfoot. Better not to take the risk. But, even so, he worried about her. “I’ll put some flowers on for you,” he said.

“That’s pretty,” Phyllis said, pointing to the
croquembouche
. “Is that for us?”

Exactly as she’d asked only a couple of minutes before – and even the intonation was the same. His heart sank. She was definitely getting worse. Just a little bit every day, but it was adding up. Like when she’d written out a second batch of Christmas cards, identical in every way to the first – fortunately he’d seen them and promised to go to the mailbox for her, and quietly put them away in a closet.

He couldn’t really leave her on her own. He’d have to ask their neighbor to come and sit with her before he went out.

He made a quick call to Rocco’s Italian first. “Hi – it’s Ryan Henderson,” he said when Ella, one of the wait staff, answered. “I know you have a booking this evening for Rachel Cassidy and five others, and I wondered if I could drop off a surprise birthday cake for her this afternoon.”

“So your date last night was enough of a hit for you to make a cake for her?” Ella teased him.

Well, of course she’d know where he’d spent yesterday evening. Even if Ella hadn’t been at the bachelor auction, she would’ve heard about what had happened. The whole town was buzzing about how much money they’d raised and how Molly could at last talk to a contractor about the work she needed done on the house. “It wasn’t a date. It was a birthday dinner,” he said firmly. “But the people Rachel’s eating with tonight are the ones who bid for the dinner at the auction, so I thought it would be nice to make something they could all enjoy. Y’know, as a kind of thank you. Though I know it’s a bit impertinent to ask.”

“Because they’ll eat your cake instead of ordering dessert from us?” Ella asked. “Ry, in the circumstances, I think we can live with it. Though if you’re feeling guilty enough to make some of those red velvet cupcakes for the poor, put-upon waiting staff here…”

He laughed. “I can take a hint, Ella. Consider it done – and thank you.”

It didn’t take long to make a batch of cupcakes. Then he dropped round to see their neighbor, Mrs. Rodgers. “Can I ask a huge favor, please? Would you keep an eye on Gram for half an hour while I deliver something in town and put some flowers on Grandpa’s grave?”

“Of course I will, Ry. Any time.”

He still felt guilty for asking. For making other people take on his responsibilities. Which was why he hardly ever asked anyone. It felt
wrong
.

As if his feelings showed on his face, Mrs. Rodgers said softly, “Phyllis has been a good neighbor to me all these years, and it’s nice to be able to do something back for her for once. Go. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

He delivered the
croquembouche
to Rocco’s, along with the finishing touches which he explained to Ella how to use, and a box of cupcakes.

“Aw, Ry, I was only teasing you,” Ella said.

“OK.” He shrugged. “I can take them over to Grey’s if you don’t want them.”

“Not on your –” She stopped and rolled her eyes. “You were teasing, right?”

He grinned. “Just a little.”

She cuffed his arm. “Go on. And I’ll sort out your – what’s this amazing cake called again?”

“
Croquembouche
. It’s a French celebration cake, made from vanilla cream puffs, caramel and spun sugar,” he said.

“Got you.” She smiled. “I didn’t even know you could do this kind of thing. They’re going to love this.”

“They deserve it.”

From Rocco’s, Ryan went next door to the churchyard to put flowers on his grandfather’s grave. He lingered awhile, crouched down by the headstone. “I’m worried about Gram. She’s getting frailer and more forgetful. She doesn’t walk very far and she’s not too steady on her feet – she needs me at her side so she doesn’t fall.” She’d always said she never wanted to use a walking frame and see people give her pitying looks. “I wish I could do more to help her.” He bit his lip. “Maybe I should cut my hours at Grey’s back again and do three days a week instead of four, so I can spend more time with her.” He swallowed hard. “I miss you, Grandpa. I miss your common sense, and you were so right about my ex. Lucille was totally wrong for me.” She’d always put her own needs first. The complete opposite of Rachel. He paused. “You’d like Rachel, but I just
can’t
start dating her. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. Apart from the fact that I don’t have the time to spend on her, she had an ex who really hurt her.”

So had he, but he’d had a few months to bounce back from that.

“I’m not saying Gram’s a burden – of course she’s not, and I’d never think that way about her – but I can’t ask someone to share my responsibilities. Especially as Rachel’s a doctor. I don’t want her thinking I’m only interested in her because I want free medical advice.” He’d already worked out that Rachel’s ex had trashed her confidence when he’d cheated on her, so it was a fair bet that Rachel would think his motives might not be entirely pure if he asked her out properly. Particularly given his circumstances.

He sighed again. “Ah, ignore me. I’m just whining. But I miss you, Grandpa. We all do.”

If things were different…

But they weren’t, and he had to deal with them as best he could. He straightened up. Time to go home.

*