Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two (16 page)

BOOK: Yours to Hold: Ribbon Ridge Book Two
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She was just sliding from the counter and smoothing her dress over her legs when Dylan walked into the kitchen. He stopped short upon seeing them.

“Hey, Dylan, I was just showing . . . uh . . .” He looked at her in question, clearly not wanting to introduce her as Maggie Trent in case Dylan knew who that was.

She doubted he did, but since he was Sara’s boyfriend, they had no idea what he knew. “Magnolia.” She waved at him across the kitchen. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is Dylan,” Kyle said, looking relieved. “He’s the contractor I told you about.”

“You’ve done an amazing job on the cottage,” she said. “Really, it’s breathtaking.”

“Thanks.” Dylan looked between them, appearing a little confused or surprised or . . . something else. Did he realize he’d almost interrupted them having sex on the counter? Had he heard the noises she’d made? Maggie hoped to God she didn’t look guilty.

Dylan turned to Kyle. “I came up to do a little finish work. I saw your car, but then I didn’t find you at the cottage. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t trapped underground or anything.”

Maggie looked at Kyle in question.

“There’s an underground tunnel between the cottage and the monks’ quarters. There’s also a large room where they used to store wine that they made. Dylan’s converting it into a sweet underground pub with a hobbit door built into the ground. In his spare time.” He threw Dylan a grin.

“Yeah, right. I have loads of that. Almost done with the cottage though. Ahead of schedule, if you can believe that.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t.

“Speaking of that,” Kyle said, “what’s going on with the landscaper?”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Asshole. For the record, I’m not including that in my schedule comment because yes, he’s behind, and I’m pissed. I’ve actually been trying to find someone else, but everyone’s booked up. It’s the high season, for Christ’s sake.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket. “That reminds me, I need to return a phone call about that. Fingers crossed this person pans out. Catch you guys later.” He nodded and then left.

Maggie sagged back against the counter. “You don’t think he knows who I am?”

“God no. I doubt he would’ve recognized your name, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Good call. So, uh . . .” It was past time to address the elephant in the room. “We haven’t discussed this. Whatever we have going here is great, but I’m not ready to meet your family or anything.” And she might never be.

“I guess that means you never met anyone besides Alex? I’d wondered if maybe you’d met my mom or Sara, if they’d come to any of his appointments.”

“If they did, they didn’t come in.” She’d recognize any one of them though—from pictures Alex had shown her and from the funeral. She’d snuck in late to the back of the church and had left before the service finished. She’d watched Hayden deliver the eulogy and Tori get up and speak. Talking about this brought all of the emotions back to the surface, and she struggled against an onslaught of despair and frustration.

He broke into her troubled thoughts. “I think we’re on the same page—you aren’t ready to meet them, and I’m not remotely ready to introduce you. They’d never understand me seeing you. Especially my dad.” He raked his hand through his hair, something he did with frequency, she realized, particularly when he was maybe feeling overwhelmed. “He’d completely lose it.”

While she understood, it still hurt to hear that his family blamed her. Why wouldn’t they? She blamed herself. “Well, it’s a good thing it wasn’t one of them. Coming up here wasn’t such a good idea. Let’s go before someone else shows up.”

“Yeah.” He gestured for her to precede him, and she noticed he didn’t take her hand like he’d done before.

“Hold on, let me dispose of—”

“The condom,” she finished for him. She left the church, and he came out a moment later.

When they got to his car, she paused on the passenger side while he rounded to the driver side. “Maybe we should cool it a little. Like I said, this is great, but I need to get my head back and focus.”

He looked at her over the hood of the car. “Probably a good idea.”

She nodded and got into the car.

All of the joy and contentment she’d felt earlier evaporated like it had been a dream. Maybe that’s all this was—a beautiful dream that was destined to end. If that’s what it was, she’d remember it fondly and just be grateful she’d had it at all.

M
ONDAYS WERE UNIVERSALLY
reviled as the worst day of the week, and there was a reason. Weekends were awesome, life-affirming, and Mondays just threw you back into the rat race. Or, in Kyle’s case, into the orbit of his dad and Derek, both of whom he was avoiding more than usual.

He massaged his forehead as he tried to focus on the reports he was staring at. God, he was glad this job was temporary, and he really hoped he’d be able to cut back soon so he could focus on launching his restaurant. He ought to have a conversation with Dad about it, but he hadn’t yet. He added it to the growing pile of shit they should discuss but that he was avoiding.

He’d been thinking a lot about Alex, too. Both because of his conversation with Maggie yesterday and because of what she’d said on Saturday—that he’d had a crush at work. Who had it been?

His phone rang, startling him. The number was from The Arch and Vine, their Ribbon Ridge pub. “This is Kyle.”

“Hey, Kyle, it’s Tommy. Any chance you can cook for me later? I’m down a body, and I’ve got no one else to call with decent experience. You did say you were interested in helping out some time, right?”

“Absolutely.” Kyle’s blood surged with excitement, and his mood did a complete one-eighty. “What time?”

“Five, if you can swing it.”

“No problem.” Kyle could hardly wait. “One question, do I need to adhere to the menu?”

Tommy laughed. “Within reason, please. Feel free to do whatever specials you want, but you can’t mess with the signature stuff.”

“Dude, I would never screw with the nachos.” That was like rewriting the Declaration of Independence or remaking
Raiders of the Lost Ark
. There were just some things you did
not
do.

More laughter. “See you at five.”

“See you then.” Kyle ended the call, then pulled up his calendar to make sure he was clear.
Shit.
He’d forgotten about his seven o’clock appointment with the computer forensics guy. How had he forgotten that? Finding who’d sold Alex those drugs had been his primary focus.

Until Maggie had taken over. Rather, his feelings for Maggie.

Feelings
for Maggie?

Yesterday’s close call with Dylan had rattled him a bit. He was sure Dylan had no idea who she was, but what if he had? What if that had been Tori or Sara or, God forbid, Derek?

They likely wouldn’t have put it together, particularly when he’d introduced her as Magnolia. She hadn’t met any of them, so they wouldn’t recognize her on sight, and did any of them remember the name of Alex’s therapist? He hadn’t even known it until he’d looked her up in Alex’s contacts on his laptop. But then he hadn’t been living here. Sara had. And Derek. It was possible they knew Maggie’s name, so he was doubly glad she’d introduced herself as Magnolia.

The encounter with Dylan had put a damper on the day, effectively ending it. After they’d driven back to Hayden’s house, she’d gone home almost immediately, pleading the need to water her garden. While that had been a legitimate excuse, he knew the primary reason for her departure was because of their encounter with Dylan. Or more importantly, because of the conversation that had followed.

Now that they’d discussed the need to keep their fling secret from his family, it was like they’d categorized whatever they were doing. A casual, fun hookup had become something more. Something they needed to hide. She seemed to be okay with that, but he still felt unsettled. Was it because she’d suggested they dial things back?

He was overthinking this. She’d been right. They’d had a great weekend, but it was time to reconnect with reality, with why they’d come together in the first place. The drugs.

He stared at the appointment on his screen, hating to reschedule. Maybe she could take Alex’s laptop to the guy? This was a side business he ran out of his house in Newberg, not terribly far from where she lived. But Kyle didn’t have time to take it to her before he had to be at The Arch and Vine. Would she come pick it up?

Glancing at the clock, he wondered if he could catch her between appointments. He dialed her cell phone and immediately got voicemail. Bummer. He texted her instead.

Can you call me when you get a sec? I have a favor to ask . . . Alex’s laptop and the computer forensics specialist . . .

A few minutes later, his phone rang, and it was Maggie. “Hi, you got my message,” he said.

“Yeah, I only have a second before my next patient. What do you need?”

You.
Would her phone voice ever
not
arouse him?
Get a grip, Archer.
“I have an appointment with the computer forensics specialist at seven tonight. Just dropping off Alex’s laptop for him to investigate. But The Arch and Vine needs me to cook. Any chance—”

“Where?”

Kyle felt a surge of relief. “He’s maybe half a mile from your house—I’ll text you the address. You’ll have to come get the laptop though. I can’t make it out to Newberg before I have to be at the pub. I know this is an imposition, but I hate to reschedule.”

“It’s okay. I can’t come until after five though.”

“I’ll be at the pub then. Just drop by, and I’ll give it to you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“You want me to come to The Arch and Vine?” Her question came with a strong undercurrent of disbelief. “After what happened yesterday, I’d rather steer clear of anywhere I might run into an Archer.”

Damn, he hadn’t really thought about that, but it wasn’t like they lived at the pub. “It’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

He didn’t. For all he knew, Chloe was working a shift or Derek was bartending—everyone pitched in as needed from time to time. “There’s a small employee parking lot in back with a door to the kitchen that’s usually cracked open. I’ll leave my car keys on a hook by the door—just inside. You can grab them, get the laptop out of my car, and be out of there before anyone sees you.”
Probably me included
, which kind of sucked, but he didn’t say that. They were taking a breather, after all.

“Okay, I can do that.” She still sounded a bit uncertain, but before he could further allay her concern, she said, “I gotta go. See you later.”

He hoped so. They might have agreed to cool things off, but his body hadn’t gotten the memo. It heated just thinking about glimpsing her gorgeous eyes, the wild mass of her dark hair, the dip of her waist as it curved into her hip . . .

He shook his head and forced himself to get back to the report.

By quarter after five, Kyle had to reassess his opinion about Mondays. Or at least this Monday. He’d missed being in a commercial kitchen—the camaraderie, the craft, even the impossible juggling. It was like a well-choreographed dance, and while he hadn’t cooked in this kitchen in years, it was as though he’d never left.

“Are you offering different specials or what?” Tommy asked. He was on his way out to take his kid to an appointment.

Kyle surveyed the spice shelf. “Not sure yet. I might do a barbecue chicken wrap.”

“Sounds great, we do those from time to time.”

Kyle smiled at him as he pulled ingredients down to make his own sauce. “Not like this, you haven’t.”

“If customers love it, you’ll have to show us how to duplicate it,” he warned. “Have fun.” He left through the back door, next to which dangled Kyle’s keys. He was keeping half an eye on the door, but he really didn’t know what time Maggie would show up. He just knew it would be some time before six thirty.

After mixing up a batch of his signature barbecue sauce, he prepped some chicken and fired up the grill top. There was an assistant on tonight, but he was back and forth helping with bussing, running to the basement for supplies, and scrubbing his hands in between so he could help Kyle as needed. Mondays weren’t terribly busy, which was too bad. Kyle was in his element, and he’d missed it.

“Hey there!” A feminine voice drew him to look up from turning the chicken. Natalie stood in the doorway that led from the dining room, her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore a fitted workout outfit—cropped pants and a bright orange shirt. “I wanted to stop in before my run and check you out in the kitchen. How’s it going?” She came inside, letting the door swing shut behind her.

“Loving it.”

She moved closer, looking down at the grill. “What are you making?”

“Barbecue chicken wrap.” He slapped a whole wheat tortilla on the griddle and then sliced tomato and avocado on a large cutting board.

“Looks good.”

He grabbed some romaine and cut it into slender strips, making a chiffonade for the wrap.

“You are amazing with that knife.”

He flashed her a smile. “Don’t piss me off.”

She laughed. “I won’t! I might have to come back after my run and order one of those.”

He pulled the chicken off the grill and sliced it thin, then assembled the wrap. “Let me test it first.” He cut it in half and took a small bite. “Mmmm, not bad. It’s my signature sauce.”

“I bet it’s great. Here.” She reached up and wiped the side of his mouth where a dab of sauce had escaped the side of the wrap. Then she sucked the tip of her finger. “Delicious.”

Okay, that was
definitely
flirting. Outrageous, I’m-totally-interested-in-you flirting. Sara’s admonition from the other day came back to him.

“Natalie, I’m flattered that you, uh, like me. Or whatever.” What the fuck was he supposed to say? He wasn’t typically in the habit of turning advances down. Had he
ever
done that? But she was his employee, for crying out loud. Plus, there was Maggie. Maggie, who he shouldn’t be seeing but couldn’t stop thinking about.

Natalie’s eyes lit up, and she slid her hands around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. For a moment, he simply stood there, shocked.

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