Texas Hustle (9 page)

Female voices echoed from the rear of the lodge. Following them, Porchia found herself in a cavernous, stainless-steel kitchen. Envy oozed from every pore. It rivaled any professional kitchen she’d ever seen.

The stove was a ten-gas burner, two-oven monster that covered a good five feet of wall space. Her mouth salivated at the thought of owning one like that.

The stainless-steel refrigerator of her dreams dominated the far wall. With one wide refrigerator door and three doors to the freezer section, storing and retrieving items for her bakery kitchen would be so much more convenient.

All the countertops were stainless steel, and right now, were covered with foodstuffs that needed to be stored and refrigerated.

“Oh my. I’ve died and gone to heaven,” she said, dramatically clutching her hands to her chest.

Nadine laughed. “It’s been updated since we were last here. The old refrigerator used to hum and vibrate loud enough to be heard in the bedrooms upstairs. Speaking of which, come over here.” Nadine took Porchia’s wrist and pulled her off to the side of the room away from the other women.

Porchia frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” Nadine replied in a low voice. “Jackie wasn’t thinking when she assigned you and Darren cabin five. She didn’t realize that you two aren’t a couple. Darren explained that you’re good friends and that you’d helped him out at the auction.” She squeezed Porchia’s fingers. “Thank you.”

“Darren and I are good friends,” Porchia assured her.

“Yes, well, I appreciate your keeping him out of Sarah Jane’s clutches.”

Porchia’s eyes widened in surprise.

Nadine patted Porchia’s hand. “I know all about that little, er, witch.” She glanced toward Jackie, and back to Porchia. “Jackie told me everything. Anyway, I’m afraid Jackie and I have put you in an untenable situation and I am so sorry. There are only four bedrooms in the lodge and they’re all in use this weekend. But come Monday, if you want to move into one of the rooms here, you’re more than welcome.”

“Nadine. It’s fine.” Porchia smiled. “Really. Darren has already volunteered to sleep on the sofa, and given that it’s cushy and long, it’ll make a great bed.” She didn’t add that they hadn’t settled the sleeping arrangement yet, but she didn’t want to give his family any embarrassing information or have their imaginations work overtime…like hers was.

Nadine gave a sigh of relief. “Okay then. But come Monday, there’ll be some empty rooms in the lodge if you want one.”

“Thanks, but we’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Hey, Mom. If you two are over there gossiping, you have to share with the class,” called KC. “And if you’re over there to avoid all the work over here, you’re busted.”

Nadine laughed. “We’re coming back.”

After all the sacks were empty and the food stored, Porchia helped load up trays of hot dogs, buns and all the necessary condiments to transport to the fire pit area.

When she carried the bags of chips outside for the dinner picnic, she was surprised to see how dark it’d gotten outside in the time she’d been in the kitchen. Someone had started the fire Darren and Reno had laid. Its orange flame shot up against a black backdrop. One of the guys had set up a net tent over the only picnic table in the area to protect the food from various flying insects. Porchia put the chips inside the tent on the table and went back out to join the others.

The night air had a sharp coolness that made her glad she’d put on long pants and sleeves. She made her way over to Darren, lowering herself into the chair he’d set up for her. Beside her, he was whittling the end of a stick into a sharp point. Each stroke of the knife made the tight muscles in his arm tense and jump up. There was something so sexy about forearm muscles. They made her want to swoon, or lick them, or maybe swoon while she was licking them.

“I love a fire,” she said, leaning toward the flame and away from Darren’s lickable arms. “I think I might have been a pyromaniac in another life.”

He chuckled. “Fall bonfires are the best,” he said, giving the stick one last stroke with his knife. “Cool enough to enjoy a fire but not so cold that you’re freezing to death.”

“What are you doing?” She hitched a thumb toward the pointed stick.

“Making the skewers for the hot dogs.”

“We’re using sticks?” Her voice was aghast with amazement.

Her mother had purchased specially designed stainless-steel roasting skewers when Porchia had come home from camp wanting to roast hot dogs every night. Their cook had allowed her to roast her wieners over the flame of the stove burner. Of course, her mother had made sure the wieners in their house were made only from the highest quality prime beef with no fillers. Those never tasted as good as the greasy ones from Brownie camp, but Porchia had made do.

“Well, yeah. You got another suggestion for roasting these dogs?”

“I don’t know. Some type of clean skewer?”

He chuckled. “You’re funny. Here,” he said, handing her a freshly pointed stick. “This will be ours. It’s the best one.”

She hesitated for a second. “Um, okay, I guess.”

He laughed again and nudged her with his shoulder. “You hold our spot. I’ll go grab some dogs.”

She twisted the stick around. It didn’t look too dirty. Still, maybe she should take it inside and give it a good washing. Before she could do much more than have that thought, Darren was back with four hot dogs.

“Four? I might eat one.”

“You just wait,” he said. “My dogs are to die for. And notice I was mature enough not to say wieners.”

This time, she laughed. “Appreciate it.”

He wasn’t lying. Within just a few minutes, she bit into the juiciest, most perfectly roasted hot dog. She immediately flashed back to Girl Scout camp and sighed.

“Good?”

“
So
good,” she replied, embarrassed at answering him with food in her mouth. She could practically hear her mother and grandmother telling her not to talk with her mouth full. She devoured the first dog and really wished she hadn’t already declined the second.

It must be the night air making her want to do things she knew she shouldn’t, like eating that second hot dog or nibbling on Darren’s neck instead of dinner.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be chucking this stick into the fire and dragging you off to the cabin.”

“What?” Porchia sat back in her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Darren’s head turned to face her. “Yeah, you do.”

Before he could elaborate, a truck pulled into the drive and Leo Mabee climbed out.

“What’s Paige’s brother doing here?” she whispered. “Think something’s wrong?”

Darren shrugged. “No clue. But I can’t imagine he drove two hours just to talk to her. Our phones work, remember?”

Paige Ryan, Cash’s fiancée, looked up. Her face broke into a bright smile when she saw Leo.

“You came,” she said.

“Of course. What did you expect?”

Confused glances flashed around the fire, except for Marc Singer. He acknowledged Leo with a knowing nod and finished eating. Leo was greeted warmly by the Montgomerys, which Porchia decided was the manner they greeted everyone.

After declining offers of food and drink, Lane Montgomery asked, “So, Leo, what brings you all the way down here?”

He smiled at his sister and then looked at Lane. “Not my story, sir. I’ll let Paige and Cash explain.”

Heads turned toward Paige and Cash, who both stood. “We’ll be right back,” Cash said. He and Paige hurried off to their cabin.

“Well, that was odd,” said Jackie. She looked at Travis. “Do you have any idea what these two are up to?”

He shook his head. “No clue.”

Porchia kept her eye on Marc Singer. He and Cash were best buds, but for Cash to have invited Marc to come on this family outing had to mean something.

Marc had finished eating and had pulled some papers from his back pocket. He shuffled through the sheets of paper as though looking for something. Apparently, he either found what he was looking for or got them in the order he wanted.

The sound of a cabin door slamming echoed. Marc stood and faced the group.

“Cash and Paige have an announcement.”

Chapter Seven

Cash and Paige stepped from their cabin, Paige wearing a ruffled skirt that hit at the top of the cowboy boots on her feet. With the skirt, she’d paired a white cotton shirt and white cowboy hat. Cash wore jeans, the denim so dark Porchia suspected they were new, a white shirt, black cowboy hat and boots.

Their hands interlaced, they walked over to the fire where their families sat.

“Everyone we love is here tonight,” Paige said.

“Right,” Cash said. “We thought, why drag all y’all off to somewhere else to see this? Why not do it right here, right now?”

“Honey,” Jackie Montgomery said. “What exactly are you doing right here, right now?”

Cash smiled, then pulled their joined hands up to his mouth and kissed Paige’s fingers.

“Gettin’ married.”

Marc Singer joined the couple. “I’m licensed to do weddings in Texas, so Cash asked me to come along this weekend and perform the ceremony.”

Porchia grasped Darren’s hand and leaned over. “Oh my. This is so romantic.”

Darren squeezed her hand and, following Cash’s example, lifted it for a quick touch of his lips to her knuckles. The brief caress momentarily stole her breath. She was glad she was seated, because she was sure her knees would have wobbled.

“Travis. Can you be my best man?”

Travis leapt from his chair. “Happy to.” He slapped Cash on the back. “This is great. Just great.”

Paige looked at Caroline. “Seeing as you played a huge role in getting Cash and me together, can you be my matron of honor?”

Caroline rushed up and hugged Paige.

The vision of the two females hugging became blurry. Porchia blinked rapidly, trying unsuccessfully to clear the rising tide of tears.

Paige’s face glowed with immeasurable happiness. The look on Cash’s face suggested he’d just won the lottery.

The little green monster who lived inside Porchia raised its head and shot a flame of jealousy into her gut. Oh, she didn’t want Cash Montgomery. It wasn’t that. But the look of pure love on his face for his bride was something every woman dreamed of.

The bride and groom, along with their attendants, turned toward Marc, who went into the wedding ceremony. Cash and Paige vowed to love and honor each other all the days of their lives.

Porchia surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. When she glanced around to make sure no one had noticed her silly crying, she saw the other women dabbing at their eyes. Leo Mabee, Paige’s brother, wasn’t trying to hide his feelings. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

A sniff drew her attention to Lydia Henson. She sat alone near the edge of the group, looking as miserable as if she were at a funeral instead of a wedding. Lydia’s gaze rolled over to where her ex-fiancée sat. Jason Montgomery was looking straight ahead at his brother and the bride, his face an unreadable stone mask. After a couple of long seconds, Lydia’s stare dropped down to the ground. When it did, Jason looked from the marrying couple to Lydia, seemed to study her for a minute before moving his gaze away. Porchia didn’t think she’d ever seen two more miserable people.

And the entire episode reminded her why letting herself get emotionally invested in any other person was a set-up for heartbreak.

The rings were exchanged, followed by a kiss that went on so long Cash’s parents chuckled. Still, when the newlywed couple turned around to face their families, their faces were radiant.

“I am so happy for them,” Porchia whispered. “They both look insanely happy, don’t they?”

Darren gave her a smile. “That’s what love does for you. As far as Cash goes, loving Paige probably saved his life.”

“So I’ve heard. Well, I’m happy for them, and I love how they did this. No pre-wedding hoopla. No wedding drama.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said with a grin.

She bumped his shoulder with hers.

“If you’ll join us at the lodge, Leo brought our wedding cake, right?” Paige said.

Leo stood and headed to his car. He hefted a very large white box from the backseat. “Got it right here.”

The next couple of hours were spent eating a wedding cake and drinking toasts to the couple. Porchia stifled a yawn and then glanced at her watch. It was only nine p.m., but she felt like it should be midnight.

“I saw that,” Darren said as he slipped up to her side.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“It’s the night air, the fire, all the excitement,” he offered. “I bet you wake up early too.”

“As soon as the newlyweds leave, I’m out of here.” She turned toward him and lowered her voice. “I don’t mind taking the couch and giving you the bed. I tried out the sofa today and it’s really comfy. I’ll have no problem fitting on it. You, on the other hand, need all the room the bed offers.”

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “I am not letting you sleep on the sofa. What kind of man do you think I am that I’d put my date on a couch and me in the bed? Forget it,” he added when she opened her mouth to argue. “I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’ll not be the worst place I’ve ever slept.”