Cowboy in the Kitchen (12 page)

It wasn’t about who Hunt was in the professional world anymore. It was about who he was in her heart.

Cullen did a better-than-adequate job of serving a mouthwatering shepherd’s pie and then clearing away the empty plates, while Rachel surreptitiously eyed his every move. Meanwhile Gillian’s father entertained them all during the meal with the history of the property. She’d almost forgotten what a masterful storyteller he could be, and once again she was reminded of how thankful she was of their presence.

“May I interest everyone in something sweet to finish off your meal?” Hunt asked as he wheeled a dessert cart tableside. Cullen followed with a silver coffee service.

“Thank you, no, I have had an ample sufficiency and shall therefore not overtax my capacity,” the Brit quipped.

Hunt lifted the dome from a serving tray and tipped the contents for the guests to view.

“No room for English trifle, custard tarts or chocolate mousse?”

“Oh, yes, please.” Buzz leaned forward to eye the desserts. “I’ll have some of each.”

“He most certainly will not.” Rachel indicated he’d have the trifle and only a small serving at that. “Love, you can’t keep eating as if you have a rugger match every night or you can’t expect to zip up the trousers of your new tux.”

“Can’t imagine why I have to wear a bloody tux.”

“In the first place, because I said so. And in the second place, because our wardrobes were custom-made for the occasion. We’ll repay the courtesy by wearing Dolce & Gabbana in our wedding photos, or pay them the same as the rest of the world with cash from your pocket.”

“Well said,” he agreed, his mouth full of sherry-soaked lady fingers and whipped cream.

“Hunt, won’t you join us?” Meredith suggested after everyone had been served, and Cullen had excused himself.

“I don’t want to impose.” Hunt dipped his chin modestly.

“Nonsense.” Rachel scooted to the side to make room so that Hunt could bring another chair to the table. “We should talk about the wedding menu. Now that I’m aware that the Cowboy Chef is in the kitchen, it changes everything in a most delightful way.”

Hunt’s smoky eyes narrowed as they sought Gillian’s. He’d caught the message that he hadn’t been the contract-signing bonus after all. How would the news of her deception impact his decision to stay or move on?

And how would Gillian’s heart deal with it either way?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I’
M
SO
GLAD
you changed your mind about Mac’s party,” Hunt murmured near Gillian’s ear as he helped her into a full-length faux fur coat.

“Once again, you were right,” she admitted as she turned in his arms but stepped away, putting space between them. “As natural as it is for me to deal with strangers every day, it’s outside of my comfort zone to socialize with people I haven’t met.”

“But you’re going to be living and working with these folks, and a holiday party is the perfect way to get to know them in a festive setting where you’re
not
on the job.”

He’d been hounding her lately to spend a bit more time away from Moore House and becoming friendlier with the locals.

He was glad that she was trusting him, at least about some things. It still smarted that she’d deceived him about being part of the deal with Rachel and Buzz, but he understood. Moore House was important to Gillian, and she’d do whatever it took to make it a success.

“You’re one to talk, Hunt Temple! Even when you’re not planning for our guests, you’re cooking for the staff or you’re in the kitchen at Cullen’s house. I’m surprised you’re not preparing hors d’oeuvres at this moment.”

“My brother’s savvy enough to realize I deserve a break. Besides, he’s got ideas of his own when it comes to catering.”

“For instance?”

“Oh, you’ll understand when we get out there.”

“Sorry to keep you two waiting,” Meredith apologized as she and James reached the bottom of the grand staircase.

Gillian got her business sense from her father and her beauty from her mother, who was particularly lovely in a sparkly black cocktail dress with lace sleeves.

“Mom, you look fabulous! I knew that Zac Posen would fit you like a glove.”

“Thanks.” She tugged at the hem. “You don’t think it’s too short for my age?”

“Showing half of your knee is not exactly risqué.”

“What’s underneath that coat?” Meredith eyed her daughter suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Moore, it’s already been approved,” Hunt only half teased. Gillian was stunning in red satin, and he’d stick close to her side tonight to make sure the single men didn’t get too friendly.

“I hope you were able to find your winter coats among your packing boxes,” Hunt commented. It was a brisk night.

“They’re on the rack by the terrace doors. But my coat is a dozen years old. I have to find myself a stylish new fur. Gillian’s is perfection.”

“Mom, your vintage lamb’s wool will never go out of style,” she assured her mother.

“If the fashion police are finished, can we be on our way? I’m starving,” James reminded them, grumpy with hunger.

His wife unwrapped a chocolate truffle she pulled from her bag and popped it into his mouth. He smiled for the first time that day.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take one car?” Hunt asked as they approached the parking lot.

“No, thanks,” James answered more kindly after his sugar fix. “With Cooper in his crate, we can’t stay away very long, and we don’t want to make you young folks end your evening too soon.”

The ride out to Lake Cherokee was quiet as they enjoyed Christmas carols on the radio, and Hunt kept an eye on the rearview mirror.

“Thanks for inviting my parents and giving us the opportunity to meet the rest of your brothers, Hunt.”

“Don’t you figure it’s time we all got together, since fate seems to have made us one big family already?”

“I guess I hadn’t considered it that way. Once in a while I forget that I bought what might have been your inheritance, if things had gone differently years ago.”

Hunt mulled over the way Gillian interpreted what he’d said. After several miles he heard a sigh escape from his lips before he realized it was coming.

“Deep down you’re still angry with me, aren’t you, Hunt?”

“Maybe there’s some subconscious envy still at work. But angry? Definitely not.” He shook his head, certain of his response.

“Then what’s on your mind?”

His gut said he’d either be a fool to speak up now or a bigger one to keep his feelings to himself much longer. The calendar was against him no matter how this evening played out.

“Gillian, when I mentioned fate just now, Temple Territory wasn’t even on my mind.”

She twisted in her seat to catch his face in the light from the Jeep’s dashboard. Hers was so lovely it stole his breath. With the faux fox collar tucked up around her neck, she resembled a princess about to take a winter sleigh ride.

“Then what were you referring to?”

“Us.”

“What about us, Hunt?”

She was quiet as he weighed his words carefully.

“Gillian.” Hunt reached across the center console and took her gloved hand. “I care about you a great deal.”

“But?”

“But nothing. At the risk of aggravating you at the beginning of our date, I want to state again that making the most of our time together is what’s important to me.”

She slipped her hand from his and tucked it into the pocket of her coat.

“That should be enough, Hunt. But it’s not. I have so much work ahead of me to make the hotel successful. Once the wedding has come and gone, any press coverage we get out of it will be forgotten in a week. I’ve got to focus on promoting Moore House instead of worrying over when you’re going to announce your departure. And I don’t want to grieve your loss once you’ve moved on. The only way to prevent that worry and grief is to simply not go down that road.”

“But I thought you weren’t ready for anything permanent, either?”

“I’m not.”

“Well, if you don’t want anything long-term and you won’t seize the day, then I guess that totally leaves me without options.”

His gut had been right. He felt like a fool.

* * *

G
ILLIAN
BIT
HER
tongue and held back the words that would clear this all up or blow it wide open. She was playing semantics with Hunt. Being ready for a permanent relationship and wanting one were entirely different. She might never be ready, because there was so much that she was determined to accomplish in her career.

In her heart of hearts she desperately wanted to accept whatever Hunt could offer. But didn’t she deserve more than being an
option
with him? Didn’t she deserve the forever that both sets of their parents had found with one another? Maybe Hunt had lost that exposure to his folks’ love so young that he’d forgotten what it looked like, but she hadn’t.

She glanced at the side mirror and the car following close behind on the dark road. She could see her mother leaning as near to her father as the seat belts would allow. They were probably holding hands and sharing quiet conversation.

Yes, there was another
option,
but it involved the kind of forever commitment that Hunt was unlikely to offer and maybe even incapable of making.

He slowed the Jeep, rounded a dark curve and the holiday party underway at McCarthy’s house blazed into view up ahead. The pines shimmered with thousands of colored twinkle lights, and the tall outline of a Christmas tree at the water’s edge reflected off the surface of the lake.

Gillian had to get back into the festive mood that her parents and their hosts were expecting.

“Hunt, we knew from the very first day that our time together was limited, and we each accepted the other’s ground rules. But that hasn’t stopped us from accomplishing more than I ever imagined we would together. So let’s celebrate by enjoying where we are in life at the moment. Can we do that?”

Hunt followed the signals of the young men directing traffic, found a spot for two vehicles and eased to the side of the road. He switched off the engine and looked toward her with an easy smile.

“Of course. Forgive me for almost spoiling our evening.”

He hurried around to the passenger’s side of the Jeep, helped her out and continued to hold her close against the cold wind rising off the water.

“This place is incredible!” her father called. “Remind us again what McCarthy does for a living?”

“He’s only a bean counter.”

“Yes, and you’re only a cook.” James actually laughed.

“How about the other two?” Meredith asked.

“Cullen’s a professional teacher’s pet, and Joiner’s a cowboy wannabe.”

“You sure do make light of your family’s successes,” James commented.

“We’re all that way. The Temple brothers are okay with where we are in life at the moment. As your daughter recently reminded me, that’s not a bad policy.”

Gillian expected those last words were meant to make her reconsider her suggestion, but maybe she’d wisely set them on a new course. Whether it was the right one or not would be revealed in the weeks ahead.

* * *

“A
LUAU
?” G
ILLIAN
WAS
caught off guard by the theme as she surveyed the Hawaiian decor inside McCarthy’s home. She offered up her coat to be hung on a nearby rack in case she decided to take a stroll to the lake.

“Sure!” Hunt enthused, tongue in cheek. “Who doesn’t love a good pig roast in thirty-five-degree weather? A luau shouts ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ if you ask me.”

Through the expanse of windows she could see dozens of guests enjoying the clear, cold night on the waterfront lawn. They hovered for warmth and conversation around a huge stone fire pit or one of several cauldron-style pits. When the patio door opened, a mouthwatering aroma drifted inside, and Gillian couldn’t wait to sample whatever was on that outdoor barbecue. Colorfully dressed waiters offered coconut fried shrimp, grilled pineapple on skewers and chunks of beautiful Ahi tuna. For the more adventurous there was Hawaiian poi and Spam sushi.

Cullen and two other men made their way through the crowded room to greet the newcomers. Introductions were unnecessary. The family resemblance made it obvious these men were Hunt’s older brothers.

“Gillian, Meredith and James Moore, you’ve met Cullen, and these two ugly fellas are our older brothers, Joiner and McCarthy.”

As they shook hands all around, Meredith asked, “Where do you gentlemen get your unique names?”

“Our daddy called us each after a successful wildcatter,” Joiner explained. “It was his attempt to offset the impact of our last name. When we were all born, his Pap was in prison for stealing oil—that’s the only thing in Texas worse than rustling cattle.”

“Daddy never said that himself, but it makes a good story so that’s the one we’re stickin’ with,” McCarthy insisted. “So, how do you like my Hawaiian holiday, East Texas style?”

“Enough to repeat it at Moore House, but maybe in the summer by the pool.”

“I can understand why that might be practical if you want hula girls and fire twirlers, but you must admit that, as a Christmas theme, this is unique.”

“And quite unexpected, which is the whole idea behind the element of surprise.”

“I’ve gotta say it takes a lot to surprise my palate, but you certainly did it with this sushi from a can.” Hunt finished off his bite of grilled Spam atop a block of rice wrapped in seaweed.

“What, that’s all it took? I could have saved a lot of money on that pig out there.”

“Hey,” Joiner chimed in. “This is Christmas, not Hunt’s birthday. The rest of us want something besides mystery meat on a cracker for dinner. Porky will not have died in vain, I assure you.”

A cheer went up on the lawn as the men working the fire pit lifted off the grill and transferred the main course to a pair of sawhorses set up to serve as a carving station.

“Everybody grab a plate,” McCarthy encouraged his guests. “It’s time for a pig pickin’!”

“I’m sorry you ladies got into designer dresses to serve yourselves, sit on folding chairs and cover your laps with paper napkins.”

“Nonsense, Hunt.” Meredith waved away his apology. “I love people who color outside the lines. We’ll be doing a lot of that when we plan Moore House events.”

“I was just thinking the same thing, Mom. We should reconsider our plans for the grand opening event. We ought to stage something that is not only unforgettable but leaves people talking about us for weeks afterward.” Gillian covered her mouth and spoke where only their small circle could hear. “And I mean something unforgettable that will have folks talking about Moore House and not you-know-who and her British boyfriend.”

Hunt heard excitement in Gillian’s voice at the prospect of setting her hotel apart with an extraordinary surprise, and suddenly he wanted to make that happen for her. Getting more extraordinary than a rock star wedding would be quite a feat, but Hunt just might be able to pull it off.