Loving Bailey (5 page)

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked,
his hand warm on the small of her back. “I’d be happy to take you
out to eat for a change.”

“I know, but I don’t really want to drive
down the mountain, do you?” Her legs were tired from the hike but
it was a satisfied kind of tired. Nothing that food and a brief
rest wouldn’t fix. She’d caught Spencer favoring his right foot a
little on the way back, however, and suspected the new boots might
have given him some new blisters.

“Not really, but I’d do it for you,” he said,
flashing her his irresistible grin.

She rolled her eyes and smiled back at him.
“Sit down,” she said, motioning to a stool at the work table. “And
maybe you want to take off those boots.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Completely,” she said with a laugh. She
pulled open the door to the walk in cooler and stepped inside.
Grabbing a couple of the grass fed steaks she’s trimmed for last
night’s dinner service, she scanned the wire shelves for something
to serve with them. Her gaze landed on a bowl of baby lettuces and
a bunch of Easter egg radishes. Steak salad with – she snagged some
left over spears of asparagus – pan fried asparagus.

With her arms full of Trace’s produce, the
image of him kissing the intern came rushing back. She ruthlessly
crushed her feelings. Spencer - sweet, open, uncomplicated Spencer
- waited for her outside the cooler door. She would have as much
fun with him for as long as he was around and then they’d both move
on. She was done feeling like a fool for wanting someone who didn’t
want her.

She pasted a smile on her face and carried
her ingredients out to the worktable. “How does steak salad
sound?”

“Perfect,” he said. “What can I do to
help?”

“Keep me company.” Bailey reached up and
grabbed her big skillet. The click click click of her gas burner
lighting instantly made her feel at home. This was her place. She’d
built it. It was where she ruled.

She unwrapped the steaks and sprinkled them
with a big pinch of salt and pepper from the white ramekins she
kept by the stove. Drizzling olive oil in the pan, she waited until
the oil had the sheen it got when the heat was just right, and then
she placed the steaks in the pan. The sizzle brought a smile to her
face the way it did every time.

When she was sure the steaks had a good sear
and crust, she seasoned the other side and flipped them. She waited
the few minutes it took to get to medium rare and then pulled them
out of the pan and set them on the cutting board to rest. Putting a
fresh drizzle of oil in the pan, she snapped the tough ends off of
the asparagus and dropped them in the pan, shaking them as they
turned from bright green to wrinkled and slightly charred.

It wasn’t until she started the vinaigrette,
pouring more oil into the bottom of a mixing bowl and whisking in
cider vinegar, that she looked up and saw Spencer watching her.

“What?” she asked, suddenly
self-conscious.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Stop it.” She finished the dressing and
dropped the greens into the bowl, tossing them to coat them.

“No, I mean it. I thought you were beautiful
to begin with, but watching you work is amazing. You are
gorgeous.”

She couldn’t let herself believe it, but she
didn’t deny it, smiling at him instead. She finished slicing the
radishes and cut the asparagus into bite size pieces, sprinkling
both over the mound of dressed greens. Using her big chef’s knife,
she shaved the steaks and piled some of the perfectly medium rare
meat on top of the salad.

“Let’s eat in the dining room,” she said,
grabbing the salad, the good olive oil and some of Jen’s leftover
bread.

“Great. May I?” asked Spencer, motioning to
the enamel colander full of strawberries, sitting on the
counter.

The image of Trace bringing her the berries
popped up and she squashed it like a bug. She’d planned to freeze
the berries. He’d brought her more than she could possibly use. But
that was all he could give her. Apparently he was saving himself
for someone else.

“Absolutely. Just give them a quick rinse. I
never wash them until it’s time to eat them.” She tossed him a
smile over her shoulder, picked up two dinner plates and carried
their lunch over to her favorite table by the window.

While she waited for Spencer to join her, she
served them both huge helpings of salad. She set a hard roll for
each of them on the bread and butter plates already on the table
and poured a small pool of fragrant green olive oil next to each of
the rolls.

“This looks fantastic,” he said, setting the
colander of berries with a small plate under it on the table.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. His open
enthusiasm was contagious. How many times had she asked Trace to do
something as simple as share a meal with her only to have him turn
her down because there was something else he
had
to do?

How many more times was she going to think
about him with Spencer sitting across from her – obviously eager
and happy to be with her?

“Would you like some wine?” She stood,
reaching for his overturned water glass.

“Please,” he said.

“Red or white?”

“You chose,” he said, breaking open his roll
and tearing off a chunk to dip in the olive oil.

She filled their glasses with ice and water
from the bar, reached for two wine glasses and tucked an already
opened bottle of Shiraz under her arm.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, starting to
rise.

“I’ve got it.” She juggled their drinks,
setting down the water and shifting so he could take the bottle of
wine.

The back of his hand brushed the underside of
her arm as he took the bottle and her body thrummed to life, heat
radiating from his touch even through the thin cotton of her
T-shirt. She sat, her legs suddenly unsteady and took the glass of
wine he offered, willing her hands not to shake.

“Okay, so we did my family. How about yours?”
Now that she’d decided to make things physical with Spencer, the
reality hit her. If she could get him taking, it might give her a
chance to get her nerves under control so she didn’t look as
inexperienced as she was.

“One sister, older. You know that. Parents
still living.” He took a huge bite of salad and groaned with
pleasure.

God, she loved making him look like that. For
a moment she had a flash, just a glimpse of what it would be like
to make him wear that look of pure pleasure with her body instead
of her food.

“This is fantastic,” he said, stabbing
another bite of his salad. “My parents moved to California to be
closer to my sister and her family. She’s got two kids – two and
four.”

Bailey’s heart clutched at the idea of a
niece or nephew to spoil. With Jude marrying Autumn in the summer,
maybe she have one in a year or two.

“California’s so far away. You live in
Chicago, right?”

“Windy City.” He helped himself to another
serving of salad and eyed her roll.

She grinned and tore the bread in two,
putting half on his plate.

“Goddess,” he said, dunking a hunk of bread
in the olive oil.

“Not me. Jen makes the bread.”

“Maybe, but you’re my supplier,” he said,
forking up more salad.

She laughed and ate a bite of her own salad.
Her nerves were doing a number on her appetite – at least for food.
At the rate they were going, he’d finish his second helping before
she put a dent in her first. She tore off a piece of bread,
swirling it through the fragrant oil and popped it in her
mouth.

She licked the tips of her fingers and looked
up to see him watching her with a hunger which had nothing to do
with food. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and some of
her nerves disappeared. He wanted her as much a she wanted him.

“So, where were we?” he asked.

“Chicago, the Windy City,” she said with a
smile. “That’s far from your family. Do you get to see them
often?”

“Couple of times a year.”

For Bailey, who saw every member of her
immediate family at least once a month, except Travis and that was
because he was halfway around the world, a couple of times a year
was unimaginable. Some of what she was thinking must have shown on
her face.

“I love them,” said Spencer. “We were just
never all that close.”

They finished their meal, but before Bailey
could get up, Spencer jumped up and cleared the plates. When he
came back, he stood behind her, letting his hands rest on her
shoulders. He slid his fingers into her hair and used the pads of
his fingers to work on the knots where her neck met her
shoulder.

She let her head fall back against him and
her lips part, giving herself over to the sheer pleasure of having
a man’s hands on her. He stroked her skin with a touch which was at
the same time strong and gentle. His fingertips played over her
collar bones and up her throat, leaving a trail of pebbled flesh in
their wake.

“My God, you are beautiful, Bailey
Southerland.” Cupping her face with his hands, he bent and brushed
a kiss over her lips which tasted of wine and man. When he pulled
away, her body followed him, leaning toward the place he’d been
like a plant seeking out the sun.

He sat down opposite her again and she
struggled to get her frantic breathing under control. Every fiber
of her being wanted him, wanted to give herself over to the
pleasure of touching and being touched by a man.

They didn’t have a future together. Her life
was here at Mountain Lake and she couldn’t imagine living any
farther away from her family. She didn’t have any illusions about
finding her happily ever after with Spencer Davis, but she
instinctively trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt her and she didn’t
think he’d kiss and tell.

He might not be Mr. Right, but she had a
feeling he’d make a damn fine Mr. Right Now. And it was way past
time for her to take the next step.

She leaned across the table, using her arms
to push her breasts together and had the pleasure of watching
Spencer struggle to keep his gaze on her face. The fact he was so
open and honest about his attraction to her was a huge turn on.

And then he picked up one of the strawberries
and held it out for her to bite, and it was like she’d been doused
with cold water. Spencer held the berry to her mouth, his own lips
parted expectantly and instead of his clear blue eyes she saw the
storm cloud grey eyes of the man who’d grown them.

“Damn it.”

Spencer leaned back, looking confused.
“Something wrong?”

“I am so sorry. I forgot. I agreed to help
Jen with her…” She struggled for something Jen would need help with
that would make sense. “Her kids. I told her I’d watch the kids for
her this afternoon.” She glanced over her shoulder to the clock on
the wall. “And I’ve got to go. I’m so sorry. Can I take a rain
check? I can pack you something to take with you so you don’t have
to eat out tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, looking
stunned at her sudden turnaround.

“Let me. It’s the least I can do.”
For
turning into a complete freak and bailing on you when I had every
intention of taking you upstairs to my bed.
She hurried to the
kitchen, pulled out one of the small wooden boxes her lemons were
delivered in and started filling it with anything she could find.
She grabbed a plastic container of leftover soup from the reach-in
and the steak she hadn’t used for the salad and tucked them into
the box with a handful of Jen’s leftover rolls. She was putting a
piece of cheesecake into a Styrofoam take out box when Spencer
pushed open the door to the kitchen.

“Hey.” He reached out and grabbed her arm,
stopping her from her frantic efforts to pack a week’s worth of
food into a twelve inch square box. “Did I do something wrong? If I
moved too fast or overstepped, I can pull back. I really like you.
I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Oh God. Here was a completely delicious man
telling her straight out that he liked her. Why the hell couldn’t
she get out of her own way?

“No,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “You
didn’t do anything wrong. I really like you, too.”

His answering smile sent heat pooling low in
her belly like molten wax. He was as straightforward as a golden
retriever and just as charming.

“Good,” he said, pulling her hands to his
lips and brushing a chaste kiss across her knuckles.

The simple touch of his lips, soft against
the backs of her fingers had her reconsidering her whole
get-him-out-of-here-fast plan. Screw the strawberries. Or better
yet him.

She couldn’t figure out how to back out now
without looking like an insane person. Very sexy. So she did the
only thing she could think of to show him how she felt and stepped
closer to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body along
hers. Giving him plenty of time to back up if he wanted to, she
stood on her tiptoes and slanted her mouth over his in a kiss.

When he pressed closer, teasing her lips with
his, she threaded her fingers through his hair and leaned into him.
His hands dropped to her hips, hauling her tight against the hard
length of him. There was no hiding how much he wanted her. He was
making a point of showing her. He nipped her lip and she opened for
him, meeting his tongue with her own, drinking him in.

Her body zinged to life and she arched,
pressing him tighter into her body, desperate to have him against
her.

“You have to go?” He made the sentence a
question, his voice hoarse against the tender skin of her neck.

She swallowed hard and nodded, too overcome
with the delicious sensation of his mouth on her skin for her
kiss-addled brain to form words.

“Then I need to go before I throw you over my
shoulder and carry you upstairs.”