Designed for Love (Texas Nights) (22 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

This time, when Mac knocked on Ashton’s door, he’d nixed the idea of flowers. Her dog was no longer bromantically infatuated with him, and she sure as hell hadn’t made a move to bridge the gap between them. The heavy oak door swung open, and Ashton stood there, her gorgeous hair wrapped in a ratty towel and white shit spread all over her face.

When she spotted him, she snarled. But then she realized he wasn’t alone, and her eyes widened. She swung her attention back to him. “If I looked even slightly decent in orange, I would murder you right this second.”

“Just hear me out.”

“How about I
shut
you out?”

“This is Healey Smith.
Dr.
Healey Smith.”

“Stooping to house calls now? I told you my knee was fine.”

“Dr. Smith is a botanist.”

Her mouth went wide, and damned if Mac didn’t want to lean in and lay a kiss on her. Knock her right out of her towel turban. “Where...what...why...when?”

“Apparently, you missed your calling as a journalist.” He leveled a hand, palm up, toward Ashton. “Dr. Smith, this is Ashton Davenport.”

“Where are they?” the botanist asked. “The water lilies?”

“Dr. Smith is the foremost expert in rare lily pads.”

“But...but you know I can’t pay him. Not after...”

Not after she’d about given him a massive coronary. He’d loaded up that piece-of-shit bike in the back of his truck. Didn’t tie it down, just tossed it in the back and drove it to Cameron’s garage. He would’ve shoved it out in the parking lot if Cameron hadn’t stopped him. As if he cared anything about a bunch of metal and chrome when Ashton could’ve been a smear on Main Street. Cameron was welcome to it.

“Don’t worry about it.” God knew this was the least he could do after all the trouble she’d had with this job. Well, that and get the hell out of her way after all this lily business was sorted out.

“Ms. Davenport, I’m terribly eager to see the specimens.” Dr. Smith shuffled from foot to foot, trying to look over Ashton’s shoulder and into the cabin. “Do you have them here?”

“No, I left them where I found them. I didn’t want to move them again and risk killing them off for good.”

Oh, crap. That meant a trip into the hell of Dirty Harry’s men’s room. “Um...why don’t I just let you and Dr. Smith make the trip out to Harry’s? I’ve got a few things to finish up at my mom’s shop and—”

“Give me five minutes to put some clothes on and get Napoleon.” She grabbed Mac by the shirt front, bounced up on her toes to glare at him. “You’re not getting out of this, no matter how hard you squirm. So just buck up, mister.”

* * *

When Ashton led Dr. Smith into Dirty Harry’s, the bar wasn’t officially open yet. Regardless, the dance floor was crowded with people milling around. Shelbyville residents, the student group, Dr. Wurzenbach. Heads together, Gigi and Jessup sat at the bar. Ashton pretended she was wearing her tiara and looked away. Whatever happened here would seal her fate—not only with this project and the two people who’d had the biggest influence on her life but also with her future in this town.

Ashton skirted the group, leading Dr. Smith and Mac around the edges to the back hallway.

“I think I see Beck over there—” Mac veered to the right, “—and I need to—”

“Don’t even try it.” She grabbed his shirt sleeve and kept moving, trying to ignore the warmth of his skin through the fabric, the tingle it sent up her arm. If she had to go back in that bathroom, he was doing it with her. They made it to the skull-and-crossbones-marked door, and she pulled a couple of surgical masks from her bag. She handed one to the botanist and pulled the other over her head, snapped it in place.

“Hey, what about me?” Mac eyed her olfactory protection.

“If you thought to bring one for yourself, feel free to put it on.”

“I’m sorry about the motorcycle, okay?”

“No, you’re not.” She shoved open the door, motioned for the men to enter. She propped open the door with a stack of old phonebooks in the hallway. The more relatively fresh air, the better.

What she didn’t expect was the crowd, led by Dr. Wurzenbach, who pushed inside behind her. “I won’t have you pulling the wool over my eyes,” the professor said. “I want to be here when he tells you I was correct all along.”

Ashton tried not to enjoy the sight of his eyes, red and teary from the bathroom fumes, but she couldn’t help herself. “Be my guest.”

Dr. Smith was already hunkered down in front of the urinals, his head almost inside them. He was a brave guy, she’d give him that. Everyone else was holding their breath—waiting on his pronouncement and protecting their sinuses.

Mac hovered nearby, and his very presence surrounded her. She tried to sidle away a few steps, but he reached out and snagged her hand, pulled her in so their arms rubbed. Her heart curled into a fetal position and had a little crying jag. Regardless of the outcome today, she and Mac were done. Had to be done. It didn’t make sense for them to try to make it past this divide when he’d be gone soon enough.

Dr. Smith rocked back from his crouch and stood. The droop of his mouth and eyes screamed depression to Ashton. But that could be good news or bad. “This is not, in fact, a contralto water lily. It’s the more common Panama Pacific.”

Her heart uncurled and got to its knees at the news. A yell went up from the crowd and people vied for pole position to rush out the door. Two men became wedged shoulder to shoulder, and a wrestling match ensued. Jimmy Miller shoved them from behind, and people flowed out as if someone had poured drain cleaner on them.

Dr. Wurzenbach just stood, his arms hanging at his side and his head bowed, in the middle of the stained tile.

Ashton pulled her hand from Mac’s and approached the older man. “Dr. Wurzenbach...”

“I just wanted to protect the plants.” His head came up, and real tears sheened his eyes. Oh. This had been as important to him as the Lily Lake project was to her. “Wanted to be known as nature’s shepherd.”

Wrapping an arm around him was pure instinct. He turned into her hold, snuffled in her ear. “I’m sorry, Ms. Davenport, that I caused you so much hardship. So much lost time. I’m an old fool.”

Maybe she’d thought so at first, but he just wanted to be useful. Be good at something. She understood that more than he could imagine. “You’re not an old fool. You’re a very dedicated professional who misses his work.”

“Are you excusing my meddling?”

“Was your heart in the right place?”

“I don’t know.”

Had her heart been in the right place when she began the Lily Lake project? No, all she’d cared about was what others thought of her. She’d been trying so hard to make people accept her that she hadn’t made an effort to decide what she thought of herself. “Sometimes the things we do for the wrong reasons teach us important lessons. Not only about who we truly are but also about people we thought we knew.”

One glance at Mac’s narrow-eyed expression confirmed that he’d received her underlying message. But his only response was a sharp nod and an about-face toward the door.

“How could this possibly turn out well for anyone involved?” the professor asked. “Your grandmother has taken over the project and I’m a laughingstock.”

“Do you make mistakes like this often?”

“I’m only human, but rarely.”

“Lily Lake is home to lots of plants and animals.” Shih-poo-tormenting raccoons for one.

“Please tell me you’ll care for them.”

She took both his hands, studied the contrast of his lined skin with hers, smooth and resilient. Made one more impulsive decision. “What would you say to taking care of them yourself?”

* * *

When Ashton finally emerged from the back hallway, Gigi was still sitting at the bar, but Jessup was gone. Just as well. The conversation between Gigi and her might get heated.

Ashton slid onto a stool next to her grandmother and said to Shirlene, “Two Shiner Blondes, please. Tops—”

“On,” the bartender finished for her.

“You planning to get me drunk and talk me into hiring you back?” The raised-brow stare Gigi gave Ashton had her blood pressure creeping up.

Stay calm.
That’s the only way to get through this.

“You—drunk on one beer?” she shot back. “Things may be a little unsettled around here, but we haven’t slipped off into an alternate universe.”

Gigi’s laugh was genuine and settled Ashton’s nerves a bit.

Shirlene plunked down the beers in front of them and popped the tops.

Gigi took a long swig of beer, then said, “So old Dr. Wurzenbach was off his rocker, huh?”

“He meant well.”

“Lots of people mean well, Ashton,” Gigi said. “But that doesn’t mean they’re doing the right things.”

“Which is exactly why you fired me.”

“Yep.”

Needing a little liquid courage, Ashton chugged half her Shiner. “I want the project back.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“You have no plans to make this easy, do you?”

“Would you if you were me?”

At one time Ashton probably would have let conflict like this skate. Avoidance was so much easier than fighting for what you wanted. Yeah, well, she didn’t play that way anymore. “No, I’d demand that I outline every single reason I should be in charge again.”

“Smart girl.”

“First reason, I’ve made mistakes and—”

“Not exactly compelling.”

Ashton shoved Gigi’s beer into her hands. “Put this to your mouth and be quiet until I’m done.”

Shockingly, her grandmother did just that. A tiny grin even showed around the bottle top.

“I’ve made mistakes and I’ve learned from them.” She wouldn’t list them all. Better not to dwell on the screw-ups. “That’s the best business experience in the world. Besides that, I have a passion for this project and for this community. You have no desire to finish the Lily Lake project, but I do. I have a solid plan for the development and will be here in Shelbyville to oversee the entire thing.”

“That could take years.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yes, moving forward with Lily Lake would be hard when Mac left, but even a bruised heart wouldn’t stop her. “If I had faced setbacks like these in the past, I would’ve grabbed a martini and given up. But even after you fired me I never stopped moving forward. Never walked away.”

Gigi placed her hand on Ashton’s, squeezed with what felt like understanding. “I always knew you had it in you, that grit. The guts to stand tall when the world lifts its leg and pisses all over your plans. Your dreams.”

“Then why—”

“Because
you
didn’t know it.”

Gigi might be a manipulator of Texas-sized proportions, but she did a damn good job. Ashton lifted her chin and breathed deep. “I do now, so I’m officially reinstating myself as head of the Community at Lily Lake project.”

With a tap of her longneck bottle on Ashton’s, Gigi said, “Well then, welcome back.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

As he’d promised, Mac stayed on the job while the deck was being built. Adelaide and Ashton were paying out the ass for it, what with the need for divers and specialized equipment. And they were under such a tight deadline before Cameron and Allie’s wedding that people had begun showing up at the job site, doing whatever it took to get the place ready, even if it was just to pick up construction trash or feed the workers lunch.

In fact, Emmalee Wright, Cameron’s mom, was walking toward Mac now carrying a plate stacked with sandwiches and other stuff. She was smiling, but the expression was a little stiff. “Mac, tell me the venue will be ready on time. My baby’s getting married and—”

“They’re on schedule to finish it up today. If I have to stand underwater and hold up that deck during the ceremony, it’ll happen. I promise.”

The tension left her face, and she thrust the plate toward him. “Spiral-cut ham and Swiss, chicken salad and pimento cheese.”

“Was this supposed to be a bribe?”

“I like to think of it as incentive.”

The women in this town knew how to get exactly what they wanted, and they each used their special talent to make it happen. Lucky for him, Emmalee’s weapon of choice was food. “Where are the snickerdoodles?”

“With the news you just gave me, I’ll make ten dozen just for you.”

Over Emmalee’s shoulder, he caught sight of Ashton’s car pulling up. Today wouldn’t be any different from the past week and a half. She would avoid him, and he would pretend he wasn’t bothered by it.

She, Allie, Roxanne, Eden and Napoleon piled out and headed directly for the pavilion. Ashton wore some flirty little skirt, but she’d learned to wear work boots. Her post-Bitsy shorter hair was pulled back in a wild little ponytail. Her smile was genuine, lighting her up from the inside out. So beautiful it stung his eyes to look at her.

How could she be so fucking happy when his heart felt like a piece of rotted wood inside his chest?

Emmalee glanced over her shoulder, then leaned toward him. “Have you told her?”

“She’s known I was leaving since we started this project.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Emmalee grabbed him by the scruff on his chin, forcing him to look down at her. “You need to tell her you love her.”

That rotted board broke into two pieces. “I’m not—”

“Your mother isn’t here, so consider me her stand-in. And don’t you dare lie to your mama.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“Love rarely pays a bit of attention to how we think it should happen. Who we think it should happen with.”

“We go together about like a ballpark hot dog and a charity ball cocktail.”

Swinging around so they were both staring at what was happening in the pavilion, Emmalee said, “I see what you mean. She’s obviously not a hard worker.” Ashton was hefting a ten-foot ladder and setting it up in the middle of the space to show Allie her plans for something. Wedding decorations, if he had to guess.

“And her dog is clearly a menace,” Emmalee mused. Damned if Napoleon wasn’t sitting at perfect attention, watching all the activity without humping one person’s leg or chewing off anyone’s toes. “And she’s completely failed to make herself a part of this community.” Half of Shelbyville was swarming around the job site, had been for days.

“Then she’s got everything she needs.” No longer hungry, he passed off his plate to a subcontractor walking by.

“Are you worried she doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

“I didn’t come here to find a woman or make a permanent move. I have things I need to finish in Dallas. People counting on me to come back.”

“I’d say there are plenty of people counting on you right here at home.”

* * *

At the time, the idea of fixing up a shop for his mom had seemed inspired. Shelbyville was a small town with friendly people. She would be happy here. But Mac would probably be miserable when he visited. This town wasn’t haunted by his tragic memories but of regrets for what might’ve been.

If he hadn’t screwed things up.

He led his blindfolded mom across the sidewalk to stand in front of her new store.

“Michael—” she patted the bandana over her eyes, “—I like surprises as much as anyone, but you’re acting weird.”

“Few more seconds.” He scanned the fire hydrant-shaped planters he’d placed on either side of the front door. Flowers were pink and perky. The shop’s windows were spotless. He drew a breath. She would either like it or...

He fumbled with the knot and finally pulled away the blindfold.

His mom stared at the door, without a sign because he’d known she’d want to name her own place. She turned a circle and checked out the surrounding square. “You drove me to Shelbyville?” Her eyes widened, and she rounded on him. “You’ve decided to stay. I knew you liked it here. Honey, this is a much better place for you than Dallas. I’m so happy—”

“Mom, I’m not staying.
You
are.”

“What?”

He led her toward the door and handed her a key ring. “These are yours.”

“What have you done?”

“If you unlock the door, you’ll know.”

She popped the key in the lock and pushed open the door. She walked inside, and slack-jawed was the only way to describe her expression. “This...this looks like a pet shop.”

A shelf of dog toys stood on her left, and she trailed her fingertips along the paw-shaped trim. “You did all this, didn’t you?”

“You told me you wanted to make a change. That you wanted to open your own place.” Insecurity washed over him. What if she’d just been thinking aloud that day? Maybe this wasn’t really her dream. “If you don’t like it, I can—”

She whirled around and crushed him in a hug. “You did this for me.” Her words were a whisper. Then she jumped up and down, and her volume increased. “I can’t believe you did this for me.” She pulled back, studied his face. “Stocking a retail store isn’t cheap. How did you—”

He waved an arm around the space. “I just bought enough to give you a feel for it.”

“How much did you spend?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been working on a good project. Paid well.” Yeah, Lily Lake had paid for him to finish the shop, but the cost to his heart? That may have been too high.

A rattle came from the door connecting his mom’s shop with Ashton’s foyer. She strode through and said crisply, “I saw your truck outside and wanted to give you—” When she spotted his mom, Ashton stalled and began to backtrack. “I apologize. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

No way in hell was he letting her get away this quickly. “Mom, this is Ashton Davenport, the head of the project I was just telling you about. Ashton, my mom, Gretchen McLaughlin.”

As he’d figured, Ashton’s society manners wouldn’t allow her to turn tail and run. She stepped forward and held out a hand. “Mrs. McLaughlin, it’s lovely to meet you. But I don’t want to interrupt. I was just dropping off something for Mac.” She thrust a thick envelope at him and edged toward the door.

He caught her by the sleeve before she could slip away. “Are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?”

Glancing down at the plaid shirt she wore, she mumbled, “It’s still a bit chilly in the mornings.”

“But you’re wearing flannel.”

“Flannel happens to be a soft and sturdy material.”

Yeah, and Mac had never realized how sexy it could be on the right woman. “I...ah...maybe we could—”

“That should make us square.” She pointed to the envelope in his hand.

For the first time, he studied what he was holding. It felt like money. Lots of money.

“You can count it if you’re worried.”

Christ, she thought he was concerned about her shorting him. Hell, he didn’t even want the money anymore. He tried to shove it back at her, but she danced away. “Ash, I don’t need your money—”

“It’s not mine. It’s yours. Sorry it took me so long. Napoleon would’ve brought it himself, but he’s getting his first decent grooming in months.”

Damned if he didn’t miss that dog. “Look, why don’t I stop by once my mom and I—”

“Let’s be honest, Mac. We’ve said everything we need to say to one another.” Ashton’s strained smile was all please-God-let-me-get-away, but she turned to his mom and said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. McLaughlin. You have a very talented son.”

Before Mac could recover, Ashton scooted through the door and locked it behind her.

“She’s gorgeous.” His mom seared him with a speculative look. “
Project
, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“She the reason you’re leaving Shelbyville?”

“No, I need to go back to Dallas. That’s been my goal all along.”

She rounded the counter she’d been standing behind. Her palm cupped his cheek as though he was a kid and she was checking him for fever. “Honey, why?”

“Because I left a disgrace. Drunk half the time, blowing off payday, giving a half-assed effort to anything I was working on.” He blew out a breath. “That’s the last impression I made to the people I worked for, the people who worked for me.”

“You were grieving.”

“That didn’t give me an excuse to fall apart. If anything, I should’ve worked harder.”

“Michael, your dad was proud of you. Bragged to anyone who would listen that his son was building great things, making a difference for people.”

Doubtful he and his work had truly affected people in any personal way, but it was clear his dad had enjoyed the illusion of his success. “Then you should understand why I need to go back. If I don’t, I’m making Dad a liar.”

“I don’t think you’re getting the point here. He wasn’t proud of you because you were making nice money. He wasn’t even proud because of all the nice things that money bought. He believed you were doing something you loved. And that you were good at it. That’s all he ever wanted, for you to make a good life.”

Well, he’d sure messed that the hell up. “And I took his away from him.”

Forget soothing, his head stung when she popped him with the flat of her hand. “Stop your moping. You didn’t kill your father. Neither did a motorcycle. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could stop that man once he put his mind to something. Should he have been riding that thing on the freeway? No. But, Michael, that wasn’t the first stupid decision your dad ever made. Do you remember that time he decided he should race dune buggies?”

The memory quirked at Mac’s lips. That hodgepodge vehicle his dad had bought off some guy in a bar was broken down more than it ran. But when it was working, his dad had driven it like a bat out of hell. “He loved that thing.”

“Do you remember what happened the time he ran it straight up that embankment?”

They’d been at a friend’s construction site, and his dad had driven the buggy up a ninety-degree incline. When he topped it out, he forgot to let off the gas and rammed straight into a tree. The buggy had blown a tire, and his dad had come away with a broken wrist and collarbone. “He was fearless, I’ll give him that.”

“What do you think he’d have to say about you running scared right now?”

“This isn’t the same.” Dammit, it wasn’t, and he had no reason to feel defensive. “It’s my life, not some beater I can drive over a cliff.”

“You keep playing it the way you are now,” she said, “and that’s exactly where you’ll end up.”

* * *

Ashton waited in her Designs to Die For office until she heard Mac lock up his mom’s shop and pull out, hauling his fifth wheel behind his truck.

He was done. With everything.

And now he was gone.

Her heart a concrete slab in her chest, she slid open a drawer in her dainty desk and contemplated the key there.

It was wrong. Even more wrong than sashaying into his trailer that day. Than taking the keys from his fridge and almost wrecking his motorcycle.

But dammit, she’d only gotten a peek at his handiwork when she’d walked in the shop to repay him. After this, she would have the lock rekeyed.

Napoleon was sitting by the connecting door when Ashton walked into the foyer. “You know we shouldn’t do this, right?”

His only answer was a pitiful whine and a nose nudge at the wood.

“If you tell anyone, we’ll both be in trouble. This is trespassing. We could be arrested.”

Scratch
,
scratch
at the door.

“Don’t touch a thing in the store. This isn’t about Mac.” Yeah, right. “It’s his mom’s place now.”

A quick twist of the key and they were in. Ashton flipped on the light and looked her fill. The man was a master at the big picture all the way down to the tiniest details. She weaved in and out of the custom shelving Mac had edged with dog and cat paw-shaped trim. The floor was an easily cleanable tile but warm and homey.

It took all her strength to look directly at the counter he’d finished building after their erotic little rendezvous behind it. Now, it was painted a cheerful red and included plenty of spots to stash point-of-sale items. It might be impossible for her to ever shop here. How could she buy pet supplies from Mac’s mom without being crushed by the memories they’d made here?

Not only here but all over this town.

She turned away and caught a glimpse of the self-serve treat bar that Napoleon was peering into. Mac had even stocked it with kibble, so why wasn’t her dog filching cookies? Instead, he looked over his shoulder at her as though to say, “Where’s the good stuff?”

“Sweetie, the good stuff just drove out of town.” She patted her leg, and he plodded over, his entire little body appearing to weigh as much as a Great Dane. Weren’t they a sad pair? “Know what? I bet we could sneak into the Piggly Wiggly for a stash of depression-curing goodies.”

His ears perked up at that but barely.

Two days later, Ashton woke to a weighted feeling in her chest and a Taylor Swift playlist repeating on her iPhone.
Oh God
,
maybe chocolate-covered cherries induce heart attacks.
She clutched at her chest, but instead of the pain she expected, she wound up with her hand stuck in a wad of fur.

She cracked open an eye to find Napoleon sitting on her sternum.

Woof.

Tongue out, he stuck his face close to hers. Then just as quickly tried to scamper back. He wriggled and shook himself loose from her hold, and all she was left with was a palm that looked like one of those fuzzy cleaning mitts. She shoved a lank strand of hair from her face with—
ugh
—the wrong hand and ended up with Napoleon’s fur in her mouth too.