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Authors: Candis Terry

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Western, #Contemporary Fiction, #Westerns, #Contemporary, #Romance

Sweet Surprise (19 page)

BOOK: Sweet Surprise
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He grinned. “You first.”

“Ha. I can see I’m going to have to keep on my toes around you.”

“I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“And how is that?”

“Like I said, sweet and soft. But you’re also playful and smart . . . and . . .”

“And?”

He trailed a finger over her bare shoulder and sent shivers of anticipation up her spine. “And sexy . . .” He leaned in and kissed her again. “Very. Very. Sexy.”

“You . . .” She poked a finger in his solid chest. “Are a dangerous and tempting man, Mike Halsey. However, I do appreciate your offer and probably to your despair, I’m going to take you up on it. Maybe then I can get to bed before midnight.”

At the mention of going to bed, his eyes glittered daringly and a smile tilted those very sexy lips.

When his hands caressed down her shoulders and arms, she realized he had no problem being a touchy-feely kind of guy. She liked that. She’d always believed you could tell a man’s true sentiment by the way he looked at a woman, the way he touched her, and how often.

After her divorce from Jackson, she’d started to take a deeper look at married couples, hoping she’d find the magic key to what she and he had missed. Sadly, what she’d found was that most couples, the longer they were together, the less they touched.

She wanted something different.

She wanted a man who looked at her when she was eighty as if he was seeing her for the first time. She wanted a man who’d hold her hand for the rest of his life. Not because it was expected but because he just wanted to touch her. She wanted a man who’d have tears of happiness in his eyes when they said I Do, when they shared in the birth of their children, and when they celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

Was it too much to ask?

Probably.

But if she didn’t reach for the gold ring, how would she ever know?

E
very time Fiona smiled up at him, Mike knew he was in deep trouble. The way she looked at him made him feel ten feet tall. He’d never had anyone look at him that way before. It scared the hell out of him. At the same time he wanted more.

Fiona was different. Instead of just weeks, he felt like he’d known her for a long time. She called out to some primal need in him that made him behave different. Feel different. He didn’t like having to hide their developing relationship, but he’d do whatever she wanted just to be with her.

Yeah. He’d turned into a total love-struck sap.

As she explained the difference between regular cupcakes and gluten-free, Mike did his very best to keep his mind on the work to be done. Not her soft curves or sweet smile. Not how great it would be to take off her clothes and explore her body. Not how she’d look wearing an apron only. For the most part, he failed.

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t use a box of Betty Crocker to make your cupcakes?”

Her laughter rang like Christmas bells in his ears.

“My grandmother taught me how to bake,” she said. “Not once did I ever see her open anything prepackaged. Everything came from scratch and a lot of love. She would absolutely turn over in her grave if I even gave a boxed mix a passing thought.”

“Were you close with your grandmother?”

“Very.” Something they had in common. She gave a nod as she leveled the flour in the measuring cup. “Every summer, I’d go to her little house, and we’d spend hours baking or making fig jam.”

“I’ve never tasted fig jam,” he confessed.

“It’s delicious.” She closed her eyes and a look of ecstasy brightened her face. “You usually can only find it online or at farmer’s markets. And I have yet to find a single place that makes it the way she did.”

Mike watched as she cracked eggs into the commercial blender, then added several cups of sugar. While she spoke of her grandmother, the smile never left her face.

“After she died, I found a notebook she’d made just for me. It had all her best recipes and personal notes on how she looked at the world. It gave me insight to some of her deepest thoughts and her sorrow for my mother’s crazy behavior.”

Several teaspoons of vanilla went into the blender, then she opened a large container of flour.

“I just wished she would have been able to meet Izzy. They’re two of a kind. And they both saved my life in very different ways.”

“How so?”

She looked up, and their gazes held. “When my parents divorced, I had a hard time dealing with them using me as a pawn to piss the other one off. My grandmother took me in and stopped all that. She helped me through college. And she gave me the confidence to spread my wings. She died while I was attending a pastry school in France. My mother didn’t even tell me she’d passed. I’d made a habit of calling my grandmother every Sunday of the three months I was there. I didn’t find out she’d died until she didn’t answer the phone. I had to call around to find out what had happened. I was devastated. Even more so when I realized my mother had used my grandmother’s death to get back at me for abandoning her when she
supposedly
needed me.”

“So she even used your grandmother’s death as a part of her game?” he asked.

“Exactly. After I learned of my grandma’s death, I kind of lost control for a while. When I met Jackson, I was still very deep into party mode. Little did I know all that reveling was just a form of denial and self-destruction.”

The revelation surprised him.

When one looked at Fiona, one saw a tall, lithe, fairylike creature with sincerity in her eyes and an honest smile. Not in a million years would he ever picture her the way she described.

“So how did you two meet?”

She laughed. “He rescued me from an accident. Much like the one you rescued me from.”

The comparison tightened his gut.

“In all honesty, he did his job and went on his merry way. I pursued him. If he’d been smart, he never would have given me the time of day.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t feel that way. You two are very close.”

“We are. And I’m grateful for everything he’s ever done for me. He helped me pull my head out of my ass and get myself together. And when my irresponsibility caught up with me, and I got pregnant, he didn’t hesitate to do the right thing. Which is why I’m genuinely happy that he and Abby found each other again. They’re genuinely in love and were meant to be. She makes him happy. And he deserves that.”

For a moment, Mike remained speechless. He’d never heard how Jackson and Fiona had met, let alone the circumstances of their relationship or the reason for its demise. The knowledge opened a lot of windows. But he also realized that Jackson Wilder’s shoes would be hard to fill.

“I’ll bet that makes you see me in a different light,” she said. Echoes of regret shadowed those incredible eyes that usually shone bright like the bluest sky.

“It does,” he agreed.

She put down her mixing spoon. “I’ll bet it makes you want to slowly back away from the crazy lady, doesn’t it?”

He did just the opposite. “Not a chance in hell.” He reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her until they were both breathless.

 

Chapter 12

B
y early Sunday morning, the cupcakes for the Digging Divas had been delivered to the enthusiastic crowd and for the rest of the day, Fiona had nothing but time on her hands.

These days it was rare to be without Izzy–who was still at Jackson and Abby’s for the weekend–and not have something to do for the shop. Being open six days a week put a crunch on the mind and body of just one person, and Fiona realized she really couldn’t do it all on her own for an extended length of time. She’d decided to hire someone to take over the customer service in the late afternoons, while she stayed in the kitchen and prepared the products for the following day. She also could use a reprieve at least a couple of days out of the month. Some time to regenerate her energy and her creativity. What she really needed was a full-time partner, but until things were more stable, she didn’t feel comfortable asking Sabrina to give up the stability of her job at the bakery in San Antonio.

The picnic basket and container of sweet tea beside her on the passenger seat of her rental car verified that Fiona had some goof-off time available, and she planned to spend it wisely.

The little town of Comfort, only a few miles down the road from Sweet, was a haven for secondhand and antique stores, and some very good places to eat. Like Sweet, the ranching locale had become a bedroom community to those who didn’t mind a commute to either San Antonio or Austin because they wanted a better way of life for their families.

The night before, Mike had mentioned he had a construction job in Comfort that day. Fiona decided to surprise him with a nice lunch to keep him fortified for the hard work in the harsh Texas heat. Really, she just wanted to hang out with him and get to know him even better. The idea of seeing him made her as giddy as a teenage girl.

Everything else about him made her feel one hundred percent woman.

As she rolled up on the ranch-style house perched on a hilltop beneath a canopy of gigantic oaks, she spotted his construction truck parked near the back of the property. She parked in the shade, then, basket in hand, headed in his direction.

When she rounded the back of the house, she found him working on an adorable miniature Victorian castle. What skidded her to a stop like she’d hit a brick wall wasn’t his attention to the gingerbread detail on the playhouse.

Nope.

Mike had taken off his shirt.

Beneath the grueling sun, his tanned skin glistened beneath a layer of sweat that rolled slowly down the muscles on his deliciously tight, well-defined ripple of abs. Her eyes devoured every detail, from his thick biceps that flexed with each swing of the hammer to the fine line of dark, downy hair that disappeared into the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

God bless the weight of his tool belt for offering her that amazing view.

She couldn’t stop admiring the strength and power in a body obviously honed by hard work. Her fingers tingled to touch and caress all that exposed skin and muscle.

She wouldn’t even mind the sweat.

A great big sigh of feminine appreciation pushed from her chest.

Before he looked up and caught her standing there, gawking like a sex-starved loser, she gripped the basket tighter and continued forward.

“Looks like you’re working pretty hard,” she called out.

His head snapped up, and a smile instantly lit his face.

“Well, look at you going all Little Red Riding Hood with your red dress and basket of goodies.”

Her laugh turned into a lusty groan when he snatched a towel off the ground and began rubbing it over the back of his neck and chest, flexing those muscles in a new and unique way. When she reached him in the shade of the playhouse, she didn’t bother to wait for him to offer the first hello. She set down the basket, grabbed hold of the towel draped around his neck with both hands, and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I’m sweaty,” he warned.

“I know.” She tugged him the final few inches until their lips meshed, and he rewarded her with an openmouthed kiss that nearly had her tearing off his pants. Suddenly, her chest was tight, and her heart beat faster. When he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, a rush of need spread from her head to her toes. When he lifted his head, she couldn’t stop the disappointment.

What did she expect? For him to tear off her sundress, toss her on the grass, and fulfill all those fantasies she’d had nearly every night since they’d met? Not a bad idea. But since they were at a private home in someone’s backyard, it was hardly appropriate.

Didn’t stop her from thinking it, though.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” he asked.

“You’ve been doing all these nice things for me. I figured it was my turn to return the favor.” Hesitant to remove her hands from where they rested on his chest, she reached down and picked up the basket. “I also thought you might be hungry so I brought you my famous roasted chicken sandwiches on home-baked honey-wheat bread, potato salad–no egg in case you’re allergic, and a jug of fresh-brewed sweet tea.”

“What?” A dark brow lifted and he smiled. “No dessert?”

“Of course there’s dessert.” She pulled back the basket lid and let him peek inside. “It’s too hot for anything heavy. So I brought you some key lime cupcakes.”


Bela,
with the way you look in that sexy little red dress, it got a whole lot hotter the minute you showed up.”

“Aww.” She caressed his cheek. “You say the sweetest things.”

“That’s because if you could read my mind, we wouldn’t be standing here talking.”

She tilted her head and wondered if he knew she was thinking the same thing. “Has anyone ever told you what a tease you are?”

“Hey, I promise I don’t just talk the talk anymore. And I don’t make promises I don’t keep.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” Yeah. Like she could concentrate on anything else with those kinds of thoughts and images cavorting through her head? Not. “Can you take a break?”

“Sure.” He wadded up the towel and tossed it on top of a nearby sawhorse. “The Webers won’t be home till late tomorrow. I can move at my own pace as long as this playhouse is done before they hit the driveway. It’s supposed to be a surprise. How about we get out of the hot sun and go sit under that tree over there?”

“Lead the way.”

She’d looked forward to following behind all that yummy maleness and muscle. But when he took her hand and they walked side by side, she had to admit it was even better.

When they sat down on the big, exposed tree roots, Fiona was sorry she hadn’t brought a blanket. For the record, her reason had nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with distance and opportunity. Such as, before Mike sat down, he shrugged his arms into his plaid button-down shirt. Had she been sitting beside him, she could have stopped such nonsense and maybe even snuck in a caress or two. Lucky for her he’d left the shirt open. So at least the view from where she sat was excellent.

She opened the basket and took out the sandwiches and containers of potato salad.

“That’s a massive sandwich,” he said.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh, I am.”

She looked up and caught him wearing a suggestive grin.

Good Lord, if they didn’t do something soon about all this sexual tension, she didn’t know what might happen. She’d told him she wanted to take things slow. Unfortunately, he seemed to be trying his best to hold to her wishes.

Sigh.

One of these days, she’d learn to keep her requests simple and her big mouth shut.

She handed him the sandwich and poured him a glass of sweet tea. “So what’s the story behind the surprise playhouse? Which, by the way, is adorable.”

“I hope so. It’s for Deserae, a little five-year-old girl who just finished chemo treatment. So I really need it to make her smile.”

Fiona’s sandwich halted halfway to her mouth, and her appetite shut down. “Chemo?”

He took a big bite of sandwich and nodded. “Heartbreaking,” he mumbled around the food. “Her parents are friends I met through the fire service. It was touch and go with her there for a while. But she’s a tough little cookie and powered through. Her prognosis is really good.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Amen to that.” He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “This is delicious.”

“Thank you.” The praise warmed that part of her heart that had gone cold when she’d learned of the little girl.

While he took a long drink of sweet tea, she watched his throat work with fascination.

“Mmmm.” He set the glass down so it wouldn’t fall over. “Thirsty.”

“I brought plenty, so help yourself.”

“Thanks.” He dove back into the sandwich, then he stuck the plastic fork into the potato salad and took a bite. “What are you doing next weekend?”

“Why?”

He grinned. “I might have to marry you if you can cook this good.”

“Again with the sweet talk,” she joked. She couldn’t deny the pleasure the thought brought to her heart, but that was getting way ahead of herself. For a woman who’d sworn to take things slow, she was jumping awfully quick at fairy-tale ideas. Was that because she’d been single too long? That she’d never fallen in love before? Was she just a big fat pathetic mess of goo who wanted to be loved so bad she’d jump at the first opportunity?

“Back to the playhouse,” he said. “Deserae’s parents’ took her to Disney World to celebrate. So I wanted to make sure she had some kind of princess castle to come home to. I’m painting it pink. A color you seem to be very fond of.” He winked.

Nope. She wasn’t jumping at the first opportunity that came along. Mike, in his own right, was proving to be quite a prince.

“Can I help?” she asked.

He blinked. Though why he’d be surprised, she didn’t know. She was the mother of a healthy four-year-old. And today, she’d never felt more grateful for the fact that Izzy could wake up every day and function like a normal, lively little girl and not have to face needles, or pain, or doctors behind masks in order to keep her healthy. Helping another human being shouldn’t ever be second-guessed. Helping a child raised that bar to the nth degree.

“That would be great,” he said. “How would you like to help? I’m almost ready to paint, but that dress is too pretty to ruin.”

“Give me an hour, and I promise I can help you make that sweet castle a little girl’s dream come true.”

“In an hour?” His eyes widened. “Unless you’ve got a magic wand in that basket, that’s not much time to accomplish anything.”

She folded the remains of her sandwich up in the napkin, stood, and plopped her fists on her hips. “Is that a dare?” The whole badass effect was probably ruined by the smirk on her face.

He got to his feet, his full height unfolding from the sitting position like some kind of conquering warrior. Smiling like he’d been given a gift, he reached out, grabbed her by the straps of her dress, and pulled her against him. He lowered his head and spoke against her lips. “What if it is?”

Exhilaration tingled in her heart, and desire spread like a hot ache through her belly. “I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge.” She walked her hands up the muscles of his amazing chest. “So I’ll take it.”

Tortured need rumbled in his throat as he backed her against the tree and pressed his big, strong body into her. His hands slid down the small of her back, cupped her bottom, and pulled her against his impressive erection.

“You’re killing me,
Bela.
If you even had half an idea of how much I want you right now, you’d run fast and far.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not going anywhere.” She lifted to her toes and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. Then she soothed that same spot with a leisurely sweep of her tongue.

“Damn right you’re not.” He lowered his head, and he kissed her like a hungry male. Long and hard. Soft and slow. With unrestrained passion and controlled desire. Need charged through her blood. At that moment, she knew that
when
they came together–not
if
, it would be more fulfilling than anything she’d ever experienced without her clothes on.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was harsh and unsteady. “I want you, Fiona.” Eyes dark with passion, his hands came up to embrace her face. “Like I’ve never wanted anything before in my life. But when I make love to you, it’s not going to be fast and reckless against a tree in somebody’s backyard. You deserve better than that.”

“Apparently you haven’t met my sinful alter ego, Naughty Fiona, yet.”

A laugh burst from his sexy mouth. “Does Naughty Fiona like to play dirty?”

“It’s hard to say exactly what she’ll do under any given circumstance. But I can guarantee she’s likely to surprise you.”

“Then I can hardly wait to meet her.” He kissed her again, then gave her a little pat on the butt. “Break’s over. You’ve got an hour, Little Red Riding Hood. Don’t make the big bad wolf come looking for you.”

T
empted to pull his cell phone from his pocket and check the time, Mike continued to put the finishing touches of paint on the little white fence he’d built to surround Deserae’s playhouse castle. He was about to give up on the idea that Fiona would actually come back, but when he heard her rental car coming up the drive, his heart gave a funny little flutter. Either he was having a heart attack or he was falling for her like a man without a parachute.

He wiped his hands on a towel, then went to see what her dare had brought forth. A laugh escaped when he looked at the car, which was loaded down with lots of pink and glittery girly stuff.

“What have you done?” he asked.

“I accepted the dare, and this is the result.” She tugged open the back door and began pulling out a little pink wicker table and chair set. “I’ve got everything you need and more to fill that beautiful little castle for a brave little girl.”

“I’m impressed. Where did you get all this?”

“I have connections in the secondhand-store community. I put a call out, and they responded. All this was donated.”

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