Blame It on the Cowboy (21 page)

That was probably the reason the cat was stretching and arching to get closer to Reese. But Reese had her attention nailed to Logan.

“I'll leave you two alone,” Jimena said, but she stopped after she was in the doorway with Reese. “Buns in the Oven,” Jimena said.

“Uh, what?” Reese asked. Logan mumbled the same.

“That's the name I thought of for your bakery. Of course, most people would think you were naming it that because you're pregnant, which we know you're not, but it's a great name.”

“You're opening a bakery?” Logan asked. Sheez. For a gossipy town, he hadn't heard a peep about this.

“No, I'm not.” Reese huffed, gave Jimena a frustrated look that Logan was betting she had to use frequently when it came to conversations with the woman. “There's a kitchen in the building Cassie's thinking about buying—”

“Cassie bought it this morning,” Logan interrupted. “She asked to use some of the ranch hands to help clear out the place.” What Cassie hadn't mentioned, however, was anything about Reese and a bakery.

Jimena got moving again but stopped once more, this time in the hall. “I still think you should consider Cassie's offer.” She snapped her fingers, obviously way too gleeful considering that Reese and he had something not so gleeful to discuss. “You could name it Stud Muffins.”

Reese shut the door in her friend's face.

“Cassie's offer?” Logan asked.

Reese gave a weary sigh, shook her head. “Cassie said I could rent the space from her. But I'm not going to do that because I'm not opening a bakery. Especially not one with a name like Stud Muffins.”

She probably couldn't help herself—she smiled. Not all from humor, though. Logan could also see the frustration.

“I'm sorry about that business deal with Delbert,” Reese said. “I should have already left town.”

Because this might require more than just words, Logan got to his feet and went to her. Yes, she did smell like bacon, and while it wasn't exactly a turn-on, it sure wasn't a turnoff, either.

“I'm not ready for you to leave,” he told her.

They weren't words of gold, and it sounded selfish. Because he was. Despite the mess that had just gone down, he really wasn't ready for her to leave town. Of course, that wasn't fair to her because that meant he wanted to talk her into staying around…until he was ready for her to leave.

Hell. It wasn't just un-golden words; it made him feel like the names Jimena was no doubt thinking of to call Delbert.

Still, that didn't stop him from kissing Reese. Or rather trying to kiss her. He got a quick brush of his mouth on hers before she eased back.

Oh,
that
.

“You didn't see what you thought you saw between Helene and me,” he explained. “I'm definitely not getting back together with her.”

“It'd be less trouble for you if you did.”

“You're wrong. That would be the worst kind of trouble.” Because if he were with Helene, he'd be with a woman he no longer wanted. A woman who didn't fire up every inch of his body. A woman he couldn't trust.

Ironic, though, that he could trust Reese. And the firing-up part was a given anytime he was within six miles of her.

Like now.

Logan kissed her again, and this time he made it more than just a brush of the lips. He drew her to him, hoping for something long, deep and satisfying, but she pulled back again.

Reese fumbled in her purse that she had hooked over her shoulder and came up with an envelope that she handed him. Logan instantly recognized it because it was the report from the private investigator that he'd given her. It was still sealed.

“Read it,” Reese said, putting it in his hand. She told him the rest of what she had to say from over her shoulder as she was walking out. “And then you'll know why we can't be together.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

R
EESE
WALKED
. S
HE
DIDN
'
T
know where she was going. She just put one foot ahead of the other and kept moving. Because if she stopped, she would fall apart for sure. That still might happen, but it was harder to break down sobbing if she kept moving.

God, what had she done?

She didn't regret giving Logan that report. It was something she should have insisted that he read when he'd first gotten it. That way, they would have never had sex for a second time. They wouldn't have made out in the dressing room at the store. They wouldn't have kissed.

That didn't help her mood.

Neither did thinking about what she had to do next. She had to leave town, of course, and she would do that right after the engagement party. It would be the first time she'd left a place not because of the wanderlust stirrings inside her but because she'd made a mess of Logan's life.

She cursed her mother. Cursed this bad hand of a life she'd gotten. But it wasn't just the life she'd been born into, though. It was some of the bad choices she had made on her own. That wasn't on her mother or Chucky. Reese could put that right on her own weary shoulders. She had been the one to get involved with Spenser O'Malley. She was the one with the police record.

“Reese?” someone called out. Summer Starkley. A college student who was also a part-time waitress at the Fork and Spoon. Thankfully, she was on the other side of Main Street so she probably couldn't get a good look at Reese's face. “I heard about the bakery idea. Love it. I'd be one of your first customers.”

Reese just smiled, hoped it looked genuine and didn't show too much of the frustration over hearing about that damn bakery. Talk of it was probably better than the pregnancy rumors, but still, she might scream at the next person who brought it up or suggested some stupid name for a business she wasn't going to own.

“You're here,” she heard someone else say. Cassie this time, and that's when Reese realized she was walking right past the building in question. “I was hoping I'd run into you today.”

Cassie was in the doorway of the building, and she caught onto Reese's arm and tugged her inside. “Can't you just see a sign with Sweet Tooth on it?” And, God forbid, she was pointing to the kitchen.

Reese didn't scream, though, it took some effort to hold it back. “Cassie, I can't open a bakery here.” Best just to set her straight once and for all. “In fact, I'll be leaving in seven days.”

No way could Cassie miss the timing. It was the day after the engagement party. “Did something happen between Logan and you?”

Not yet. “I'm just ready to move on,” she lied.

Cassie didn't exactly call her on that lie, but she made a sound that reminded Reese that the woman was a therapist. A sort of “oh?” sound that was probably a prompt for Reese to continue.

She didn't.

“Well, at least you're staying to do the engagement party, right?” Cassie asked.

“Of course.”

Cassie blew out a breath of relief. “Good, because it's really going to be more of an engagement party–adoption celebration combined. The paperwork went through, and the girls are officially ours.”

Cassie dragged Reese into her arms for a hug while she made excited squeals of joy. Reese was happy for her. She truly was, but Cassie seemed to be taking on a lot right now what with getting engaged, the baby and a new business.

Reese glanced around at that new business venture in progress. Even though Cassie had just bought the place, the reception area had already been cleared of the debris, and Reese spotted cleaning crews in the other rooms, including the kitchen.

“The place already looks much better,” Reese said.

“Thanks.” Cassie led her to the first room. “I thought this could be Claire's studio. Lots of light and space. Of course, she'll only be here a couple of hours a week what with her son and the new baby on the way. Plus, she'll still do wedding photos with her business partner, Livvy. But Claire wanted a local place to do portraits and such.”

It was a good space, and a good idea, too.

“I'm having that wall torn down,” Cassie said, showing her the next two rooms. “That'll give me an office and a private waiting area. A private entrance and exit, too, in case the clients don't want people to know they're in therapy. Not that something like that would stay private in this town, but still…”

It was another good idea.

The next two rooms were his-and-her public bathrooms, and they'd also been cleaned. And that left the kitchen. Reese didn't want to glance in there, but she found herself doing it, anyway. It was akin to an alcoholic eyeing bottles of booze. Too much temptation to tell the crew not to use those steel scouring pads on a wooden butcher's block. It would leave scratches. But she held her tongue. If she said anything, it would appear she had an interest in it.

“Can you keep a secret?” Cassie asked. She lowered her voice, though there was no way the cleaner could have heard her. Not with the way they were scraping away at those tables.

“As long as the secret doesn't involve me opening a bakery,” Reese countered.

“Oh, it doesn't. I figured if you didn't want to open it, then I'd offer it to Jimena since she went to culinary school, too.”

Reese hadn't meant to look horrified by that idea. Again because it would make her appear interested, but she felt she should warn Cassie. “I love Jimena. She's my best friend. But she's a horrible cook.”

Apparently, that hadn't made the gossip mill yet, but it would if Jimena ever flipped a single burger at the café. However, there were no worries with this particular kitchen and its restaurant-quality equipment. Jimena would never figure out how to turn any of it on. Her forte was making coffee and opening a bag of Cheetos without getting a paper cut.

“Well, maybe I can entice someone else,” Cassie went on. “And now to the secret. Lucky and I are getting married right after the engagement party.”

“Married?” Again, that wasn't in the gossip chain so it was an honest to goodness secret.

“I know. It's crazy, but we just wanted to say ‘I do' and get on with our lives. Anyway, we're having the justice of the peace come to the house after all the guests have left. It'll be just family and close friends. And Lucky and I wanted you to be there as one of the witnesses.”

Reese felt as if someone had punched her, and worse, it was hard to think of how to tell Cassie no what with all that scouring going on.

“One second,” she told Cassie, and went to the door of the kitchen. “Uh, you don't want to use those steel wool pads on wood. It'll make it easy for bacteria to get into the scratches.” Or in this case, into the gouges they were creating. “Just use a soft cloth.”

Of course, Cassie was smiling when Reese turned back around. The woman was sneaky. But it wasn't going to work.

“I just don't want you to have to replace that particular prep table,” Reese explained. “As big as it is, a replacement will run you close to a grand.”

Cassie didn't smile at that. “Thanks. I had no idea. I guess I have a lot to learn about going into business.”

Yes, like maybe it wasn't a good idea to have a photography studio, a therapy office and a bakery all in the same building. The smell of the baked goods would be everywhere.

But come to think of it—maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

Fatty, sugary things tended to cheer people up and make them happy. Happy people smiled, and that would make it easier to take their pictures. It would also help with those in therapy.

“This was always a dream of mine,” Cassie went on. “Not to buy a really crappy building that needs a lot of work, but to be part of this town.”

Reese had to shake her head. “You grew up here.”

“I didn't feel part of it, though. My father owns the Slippery Pole Strip Club. Hard to fit in with DNA like that.”

“But you were a celebrity, a
somebody
,” Reese reminded her. “I saw you on TV.”

“There's that old saying—when the gods want to punish you, they give you what you wish for. I wished to be somebody, to be important and away from this messy life, and I got exactly that. Except the other life was just as messy, and I was miserable. I'm not miserable now. I'm exactly where I should be. Very, very happy.”

Cassie moved closer, looped her arm around Reese. However, before Reese could say anything, not that she had a clue what to say, Cassie lifted her hand in a wait-a-sec gesture. “Bacon. You smell like bacon. I need a minute. I'll be right back.” And she ran off to the bathroom to deal with what appeared to be another round of morning sickness.

“Sorry,” Reese called out to her.

Apparently, morning sickness didn't mind intruding on something
very, very happy
.

Reese didn't doubt that Cassie was telling the truth, though. This probably was her dream, and she was probably happy with a couple of
very
's thrown in. But telling Reese all of that was probably another sneaky therapist ploy to make Reese see that she, too, could have a life here.

But she couldn't.

Because once Logan read that police record, it wouldn't matter. He would be more than ready for her to leave.

* * *

L
OGAN
PUT
THE
envelope on the center of his desk and stared at it. Something he'd been doing since Reese had left it with him and then disappeared. Obviously, she hadn't wanted to wait around and see his reaction.

Because his reaction would be bad.

He had no doubts about that. After all, it was a police report, and even though what was inside had happened over a decade ago when Reese had been just seventeen, she must have thought it would still send him running for the hills.

Or in this case, send
her
running for the hills.

She probably wouldn't leave town immediately. Not with the engagement party coming up. But she was likely off somewhere, planning her escape so that she wouldn't have to deal with whatever fallout that police report would cause.

He decided to buzz Jimena first and have her bring him a fresh cup of coffee, but the moment he reached for the intercom, there was a knock at the door, and when it opened, Jimena was there, coffee in hand.

She put both the coffee and some papers on his desk. She also eyed the envelope and then cursed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“If you think it's Reese's juvie record, then yes, it is what you think it is. Reese gave it to me to read.”

She blinked. “I thought you were firing me.”

“Not at this moment.” They stared at the envelope together. “Do you know what's in it?”

Jimena nodded. “Reese and I met right after it happened. We were in the hospital together.”

“Hospital? What does that have to do with her being arrested?”

The woman looked around as if deciding what to say or do. “How much do you want to know?” Jimena finally asked.

“Everything,” he insisted, though he wasn't sure that was true.

One second he hated the idea that something could come between Reese and him, and the next second he thought he might as well get it over and done. After all, no matter what happened between them, she would still leave.

“The police report won't have the backstory,” Jimena said. She went to the door and closed it. “So, here's the skinny. When I met Reese, I'd just fallen off a two-story balcony because I was drunk. I had three broken bones, sixteen stitches, a dislocated shoulder, and I was still in better shape than Reese was.”

Hell. Logan couldn't breathe. It felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

“Spenser O'Malley?” he managed to say.

“Oh, yeah. There are tools in the world, but he was a sick fuck of a tool. He beat her, and I don't think it was the first time. Then, after he beat her, he dumped her at the ER, went to the police station and had charges filed against her for theft and assault even though the cops never found the money she supposedly stole from him.”

Logan could possibly see the theft charges since Reese had admitted to doing some cons. “Assault? But he's the one who beat her up.”

Jimena rubbed her middle fingers and thumbs together. “Spenser was rich. Well connected in that hick town, so the cops believed him, and they arrested Reese while she was still in the hospital bed.”

Unfortunately, Logan had a much too vivid imagination and could see her there. Could feel it, too. And worse, it explained why Reese had been so hesitant to get involved with someone else who was well connected. Like him. Except he would never do that to a woman.

Something about this didn't make sense, though.

“Reese could have told me what happened,” he said, talking more to himself than to Jimena, trying to work it out in his head. “She was a victim here…”

He looked up, his gaze connecting with Jimena's. “Reese went after Spenser when she got out of the hospital?” he asked.

“We both did. He stole Reese's grandfather's watch, and Reese wanted to get it back.”

Logan had no doubts about that. After all, Reese had broken into his own loft to retrieve it. But he never would have assaulted her as Spenser had done.

“We were going to threaten to beat him up if he didn't give her the watch. By then, Reese was my friend, and I wasn't going to let that dickweed get away with what he'd done.”

Logan agreed. If he'd been around, he would have done the same thing. In fact, he still wanted to do the same thing. And worse. Logan wanted to hurt the guy the way he'd hurt Reese.

Jimena tipped her head to the envelope again. “The rest of the details are in there.”