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Authors: Jana Richards

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BOOK: First and Again
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Celia jumped to her feet. “We’ve got some time right now. Why don’t you hop into the chair and I’ll sharpen my scissors.”

“Wait a minute. I have to think about this. I’ve had some very bad hair experiences in the past. What do you plan to do with my hair?”

She resumed her seat. “Well, I think it’s bushing out so much because the hair is all one length. We need to cut in some layers so that it lays a little closer to your head. And I’d love to put a little color in your hair. Something to bring out the auburn tones.”

It sounded much like what her expensive hairdresser in San Francisco used to do. She knew Celia was a talented hairdresser; she’d seen enough of her handiwork around town to be sure of that. She just wasn’t ready to give up control of her hair.

“Let me think about it.”

“Don’t think too long or my price will go up from one apple pie to two.” Celia grinned. “I heard on the small-town grapevine that you and Martha Kowalchuk are going to open a pie shop.”

She laughed. “Oh yeah? Martha and I could never be partners. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with her.”

“I’ve also heard you’re reopening the restaurant and taking over Gladys Clark’s job.”

“Apparently I’m going to be very busy. What else have you heard?”

She pretended to think it over. “Let’s see, what else? Oh yes. You’re having an affair with Jack.”

Bridget nearly choked on her coffee. She sputtered for a moment before regaining her power of speech. “An affair with Jack? People think I’m having an affair with Jack?”

“So says the grapevine.”

“The only affair I’m having with him is a catered one.” She jumped to her feet and started pacing. “Why do people in small towns think they have to know everything about everybody? I can’t do anything without it being misinterpreted. I hate living in a fishbowl.”

“You
have
been seeing a lot of Jack since you came back,” Celia said, calmly sipping her coffee.

“Well sure, because of Rebecca’s riding lessons and this lunch I’m catering. There’s been a lot of planning.”

“Are those the only reasons?”

She sat next to Celia on the sofa once more. “Of course they are. What other reason could I have?”

Celia frowned, worry lines marring her smooth forehead. “You two were very close once.”

“That was a long time ago. We’re different people now.”

“I know,” she said gently, “but first love is a very powerful thing. And sometimes things appear a lot rosier when we look at them in hindsight.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you don’t have to worry. All I want to do is look after my daughter. I have no intention of starting anything with Jack, or anyone else.”

Celia looked relieved. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jack’s a great guy, and I love him to pieces, especially since he’s Gavin’s brother. But he’s been known to break a few hearts around here.”

“Really?”

“He’s had a few romances the last few years. Whenever something started to get a little more serious, at least on the woman’s end, he broke it off. And you know how it is in Paradise. Everybody knows all the details.”

Bridget remained silent. Celia’s description didn’t fit with the Jack she’d known. Even the man she was coming to know today, the man who’d promised to let her daughter ride even if she couldn’t cater his luncheon, didn’t strike her as a person who would use a woman so callously.

At last she sighed. “You don’t have to worry. The last thing I need is another man complicating my life.” Even as she said the words she thought of the way her body stirred to life when she was around him, and wondered if she was being entirely truthful.

“It’s too bad, really,” Celia said with a sigh. “He’s a great guy and a great friend, but I don’t think he’ll ever be ready for a serious relationship again. Leslie’s mother saw to that.”

She saw the bitterness on her sister’s face. She wanted to ask Celia about Leslie’s mother and what had happened between her and Jack, but decided against it. Celia might get the impression that she was too interested.

The walk back to the motel allowed her time to think through some of the things her sister had told her. Was Celia right about her and Mavis sharing the same temperament? She’d always thought her mother stubborn and pigheaded, so sure in her decisions that she was never able to look at anyone else’s point of view. She’d certainly come up against Mavis’s stubbornness on many occasions in her youth. She didn’t like the idea that she was just as implacable.

But Mavis was also generous to her friends and a pillar of support in her community. She was quick to help anyone who needed her. As a girl Bridget had resented the time her mother had spent cooking burgers at the skating rink as a volunteer, or driving seniors to appointments in the city, time Bridget felt Mavis owed to her. But now she saw her mother was just being a good friend.

She’d let her childhood resentments rule her relationship with her mother well into her adulthood. But every time she thought of creating a new grown-up relationship with Mavis, her loyalty to her father rose to the surface, screaming to be heard. Mavis had been the one to leave him. She’d been the one who’d torn the family apart, separating Bridget from the father she’d adored. How did she get past such a thing?

She entered through the back door of the restaurant. The new stainless steel oven gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. She grinned. What would Uncle Frank have made of this newfangled, high-tech machine in his kitchen? She could almost hear his voice,
Damn thing might be pretty
,
but can it bake a decent loaf of bread?
Uncle Frank had been nothing if not practical.

She missed him so much. When she’d arrived in Paradise at six years of age, not understanding why her mother had taken her away from her father, Frank had been there for her. He’d spent time with her when her mother was busy running the bar and the motel, and Celia was wrapped up in making new friends and a new life.

She ran her hand over the cool, smooth surface of the new oven and for the first time longed to be working in this kitchen again. Uncle Frank had loved the restaurant and he’d passed that love to her. But did she have the courage to accept what both he and her mother offered her?

Mavis pushed open the door from the bar and smiled uncertainly.

“I thought I heard you come in.” She nodded at the oven. “What do you think? I need to get a fitter to hook it up to the gas lines, but it sure is pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.” She smiled as she opened the oven door and looked inside. “I was just thinking about Uncle Frank and wondering what his reaction would be.”

Mavis grimaced. “I’m sure that wherever Frank is, he’s unhappy with me. I didn’t exactly take good care of his beloved restaurant. You know, this restaurant is the whole reason we ended up in Paradise.”

“Really?” She was intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“Running the bar and the motel took away time from cooking in the restaurant, which was his real love. So when I showed up, broke and needing a job, we made a deal. If I gave him the time to work solely in the restaurant, I could manage the bar and motel any way I wanted. The arrangement suited us fine for a lot of years.”

“So that’s how we ended up in Paradise, because he needed you and you needed a job?”

“Pretty much.”

She longed to ask her mother where her father fit in the equation. Why had she left him so abruptly? And why had she never allowed her to see him again?

The words stuck in her throat, unspoken.

“I’m sorry I sprang the oven on you, Bridge,” Mavis said. “I just thought you might like to practice your pies on it.”

“It’s a pretty expensive piece of equipment to keep around just for practice,” she replied. “Are you sure there isn’t more to it than that?”

Mavis looked away. “I have to admit I’ve been wanting to reopen the restaurant for quite some time. And then when you decided to move here I thought it would be a perfect fit for you.”

“Mom, I told you—”

“Yes, I know, I know.” She sighed. “I won’t deny that I’d like you and Rebecca to stay here in Paradise, and I’d love for you to open the restaurant. But it has to be your decision, something both of you are happy with.”

She nodded, not meeting her mother’s eyes.

“You said you had someone else in mind to run the restaurant. Who is it?”

“I thought about asking Tina Wilson to open the restaurant.”

Bridget sucked in her breath. The last thing she needed was to be in contact with her nemesis every day.

“Relax. I don’t think I’m going that route. She has restaurant experience, but not as a manager. I don’t know if she’d be able to handle staff. She has a somewhat acerbic personality.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Besides, the two of you would likely be at each other’s throats within minutes of her starting here. It’s not worth the hassle.”

She thought about what Celia had told her regarding Tina’s financial situation. It wouldn’t be fair to deny her a job just because the two of them couldn’t get along. Besides, it wouldn’t be like she and Tina would actually be working together, just in the same building. With any luck, they wouldn’t have to see each other.

“Mom, if you really want to hire Tina, you should do it. It should be a business decision rather than a personal one.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Bridget, but like I said, Tina’s lack of people skills is working against her. She’s a hard worker, but I think a better role for her would be as second in command. She needs someone to guide her, and I don’t have the time or the energy to watch her that closely.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Reopening the restaurant is a good business decision. Maybe I’ll have to advertise for a manager and a chef.”

She felt a twinge of jealousy. It didn’t seem right to have strangers running Uncle Frank’s restaurant. But if no one in the family wanted the job, what else could her mother do?

Mavis tucked one of Bridget’s wayward curls behind her ear. “You’ve been so upset ever since you got here. I thought, maybe if I bought the oven it would make you happy. You can understand a mother just wanting to make her child happy, can’t you?”

She lifted her gaze to meet Mavis’s. She’d never heard her speak like this, like one mother to another. “Yes, I can understand that. I’d do anything for Rebecca, anything to make her happy.”

Mavis nodded. “The oven doesn’t come with any strings.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “In that case, thank you.”

Chapter Nine

Bridget hurried to answer the ringing phone, setting empty glasses on the counter behind the bar as she picked up the receiver.

“Hello. Paradise Motel.”

“Bridget, it’s Jack. I’m glad I caught you. Something’s come up that I need to discuss with you.”

“Is it Leslie? Is she all right?”

“Leslie is fine, it’s not about her.” He hesitated. “It’s about the luncheon I asked you to cater.”

“The luncheon? What about it?”

“I’d like to talk to you in person but I can’t leave Leslie alone.”

His tone alarmed her. “Then spit it out, Jack. What’s wrong?”

She heard him take a deep breath. Her fingers clutched the receiver.

“I got a call from the German tour operators,” he said at last. “Another vacation farm they’d been planning to visit had to cancel. They’ve asked if they can spend the night at the Lazy J. But that means in addition to the lunch at noon, we’d also have to serve dinner in the evening and then breakfast the following morning.”

Her heart beat a wild tattoo. “What did you tell them?”

“That I’d check with my staff and get back to them as soon as possible.”

She forced herself to breathe calmly. It was more work, but still doable. She’d keep it fairly simple, and prepare as much of the food ahead of time as possible. Perhaps she could get Megan to help, as Celia had offered. After all, it was still a small group, just six including Jack.

“It’s a good opportunity for you. I’m sure I can manage. I still have few days to plan—”

“There’s something else,” he said. “There’s going to be twelve of them instead of five.”

Her brain abruptly stopped working. His words played over and over in her head. Twelve people.
Twelve people?
What the hell was she going to do with twelve people? Thirteen counting Jack.

Lucky thirteen.

“Bridget, are you still there?”

She roused herself from her stupor. “Yes, I’m still here.”

“Are you okay?”

She had no idea. “Fine. Yes, fine.”

“Look, I’ll call them back and say it’s too much, that we’re not capable of handling that kind of a crowd.”

And he’d never get their business again.
Not being able to serve his guests’ needs would effectively kill any chances to create more jobs on the ranch the way he’d hoped.

How could she disappoint him like that?

But how could she pull this off?

“I’ll do it,” she said abruptly before she could change her mind.

“Bridget, you don’t have to—”

“I said I’ll...I’ll do it.” She couldn’t quite believe she was agreeing to this. Sweat broke out on her brow and her palm felt slick against the telephone receiver.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No,
she wasn’t.
She wasn’t sure at all.

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

She hung up the phone with trembling hands. Good Lord, what had she just agreed to?

Her heart continued to beat out of control. The room felt smaller than it had five minutes ago, and it was getting harder to breathe. She had to get out of here.

She untied her apron, tossing it into a basket under the bar, and then sought out her mother. Mavis was across the room talking to some patrons.

“I’ve got to go,” she said when she reached her.

Mavis looked puzzled. “Go where?”

She had no idea. “Out. I need to go out.”

“Bridget—”

“I-I need some exercise. I’m going jogging.”

“Jogging? But it’s dark outside.”

She headed for the door before her mother could raise any more objections. “I’ll take a flashlight. I’ll see you later.”

“But—”

Mavis’s words were lost as she closed the door. Bridget took a long shuddering breath of cool night air, and started to walk.

* * *

Jack hastily dropped Leslie at his mother’s house and hurried to the bar. As soon as he opened the door he scanned the room for Bridget. She wasn’t anywhere in sight.

He found Mavis behind the bar, pulling drafts. She looked relieved when she saw him.

“Mavis, where’s Bridget?”

“She’s out,” she said, a worried frown on her face. “She said she’s going jogging.”

“Jogging?”

“Yes, that’s what she said. Can you believe it?”

Actually, he could. He pictured her walking briskly down a moonlit gravel road. He hoped she’d removed the apron this time.

Concern etched Mavis’s face. “What would possess her to go for a run at this time of night?”

This was his fault. He never should have phoned her with his news. He should simply have told the tour operators that he couldn’t accommodate them. Nothing was worth upsetting her like this.

“I’ll find her, Mavis, don’t worry. I have an idea where she might be.”

Mavis sagged with relief. “Bring her home, Jack. I don’t know what’s bothering her but she needs to be home.”

“I will.”

He sprinted out the door and hopped into his truck. Gravel flew as he dashed out of the parking lot and peeled down the same gravel road he’d found her on a few weeks ago. He sincerely hoped Bridget was a creature of habit.

When the headlights of his truck picked up the silhouette of a person walking toward him, he expelled the breath he’d been holding, feeling weak with relief. Thank God she was okay.

As he approached, she shielded her eyes against the headlights with her hand. He jumped out of the truck and sprinted to her.

He ran his hands up and down her bare arms. “Are you okay? God, you’re freezing.” He shrugged out his jacket and wrapped it around her.

“I’m fine, really,” she said, her voice sounding tired. She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes luminous. “But thanks for the jacket. It is kind of chilly out here.”

“Christ, Bridget.”

He simply couldn’t resist her any longer. He pulled her into his arms. At first she felt stiff with resistance but gradually her body softened against his, and she wound her arms loosely around his waist.

“You’re nice and warm,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

He held her closer and murmured reassurances to her. She felt soft and pliant in his arms, her curves melding perfectly against him. Jack breathed in her scent, a light floral fragrance that he remembered and had always associated with her. His memory assaulted him with vignettes of the past. He remembered the sweetness of those first inexperienced kisses. He remembered the softness of her skin, the incredible feel of her body pressed against his. His body began to stir, his arousal pushing against the zipper of his jeans.

Damn. He hadn’t meant for that to happen.

He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. All he’d wanted to do was to bring her home to her mother, safe and sound. Unfortunately his body had different ideas.

“I’m sorry. I never should have upset you like this.”

She looked up into his face and smiled. “No, I’m fine, really. I’ve had some time on my little walk to ponder the meaning of life. I can do this. I know I can.”

“Bridget, please don’t think you have to do this for me.”

“No,” she said. “I have to do this for me. I can’t live in fear the rest of my life. If I don’t conquer this thing, it’s going to conquer me. It nearly has.”

He gazed into her eyes, awed by her strength. She was an amazing woman.

He hadn’t planned to kiss her any more than he’d planned to hold her in his arms. But as soon as his lips touched hers, tasted her sweetness, Jack knew he was lost.

He’d worry about what that meant later. For now he only wanted to enjoy the woman in his arms.

She made little sounds of pleasure that went straight to his groin. He placed his hands on her buttocks and pulled her hard against his arousal. His brain screamed at him to stop even as his body demanded more.

This is insanity.

This is heaven.

Bridget pushed away first. She was breathing hard, and her eyes were huge as she stared at him, whether in revulsion or arousal he couldn’t be sure. Her hand went to her mouth, touching lips swollen from his kiss.

“What was that?”

“It’s been a while for me,” Jack said, “but I believe it was a kiss.”

“Oh.”

Slowly she began to smile. “Yeah, I think it was. It’s been a while for me too. I’d forgotten.”

He fought the urge to pull her back into his arms and kiss her all over again. “I guess it’s like riding a bike. You never forget.”

She laughed at that. “Good to know.”

His jacket had slipped from her shoulders and she shivered. Jack picked up the jacket from the ground and wrapped it around her once more, being careful not to touch her. If he did, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t throw her into the bed of his truck and make love to her right then and there.

She deserved better.

“I’d better get you back to the motel. Your mom was worried about you.”

She sobered immediately. “You’re right. We should go.”

Neither of them made a move to leave. He didn’t want this thing between them, whatever it was, to end.

He saw her shiver again. He took her hand and led her to the truck. Their moment was over.

A few minutes later Jack pulled up near the rear entrance to the restaurant. Bridget glanced toward him.

“Are you coming inside?” she asked.

“No, I should pick up Leslie at my mom’s and take her home.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Besides, I have something of a problem right now. A kind of obvious problem. I’d rather not advertise it to the whole town.”

She lowered her gaze to his crotch. A wicked smile slowly spread across her face. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“It’s entirely your fault.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it. This is damned uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry.”

But she didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said. She took off his jacket and laid it on the seat between them. “And thank you for the loan of the jacket.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her hand rested on the door handle. She turned to him, her expression partially hidden by her hair. “It’s been a long time for me. I...”

He waited for her to finish. Instead she simply smiled and said, “Good night, Jack.”

“Good night.”

With that she opened the truck door and hurried into the motel. Jack didn’t realize until he reached his mother’s house and caught a glance of his face in the rearview mirror that he was grinning like an idiot.

* * *

Bridget escaped upstairs to the apartment after assuring her mother she was still alive and mostly in charge of all of her faculties. She watched TV with Rebecca for a short while, too keyed up to sleep. When Rebecca went to bed, she thought of going back downstairs into the bar, but couldn’t stand the thought of fending off personal questions and speculative looks.

Kissing Jack brought a myriad of emotions bubbling to the surface, emotions she’d been trying to avoid since first seeing him again. Her guilt for leaving him all those years ago still lingered, but now a newly remembered emotion reared its ugly head. Only three months after she’d arrived in California for culinary school, Celia had called to tell her Jack had married another woman. The news had devastated her. All those declarations of love he’d made to her meant nothing if he could forget her in less than three months.

She’d do well to remember the past before thinking about any kind of future with Jack.

She grabbed the phone and dialed her sister’s home number. Celia answered on the first ring.

Bridget didn’t bother introducing herself. “I’d like you to cut my hair. Tomorrow.”

“I’ll check my schedule as soon as I get to work. I’ll make sure I book a time for you when we won’t be disturbed.”

“Good. I have a few things I need to discuss with you.”

She returned the phone to its cradle, breathing a sigh of relief. How things had changed in just a few short weeks. For the first time in her life, she was seeking her sister’s advice.

And not just about her hair.

BOOK: First and Again
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