Marissa was in the middle of breakfast the next morning when her cell phone buzzed. Eli and Ty were forking in scrambled eggs while Jordan pushed his around with his fingers.
Ty arched a brow quizzically as she answered the phone. She just shrugged because she had no idea who’d be calling at this time of day unless Jase had an emergency.
Then she saw the caller ID on her screen—Scott Donaldson.
“Good morning, Mr. Donaldson.”
At that, Ty frowned.
“Good morning, Miss Lopez. Has Jase Cramer cleared you to take on outside clients?”
Donaldson’s voice was warm and friendly yet a bit businesslike, too.
“Yes, he has. Do you still want me to plan a party for you?”
“I do. For Saturday, December 12. You have almost two weeks. Can you do it?”
“Do you have a guest list?”
“Of course.”
“How many do you expect?”
“Thirty to forty.”
“I can do it. But we’ll have to consult. I need to know if you want your house decorated for Christmas, what you think your guests would like to eat and whether I can contact them by email or written invitation.”
“You’ve thought about this,” he said.
“I have. I like to be prepared.”
“How about if I stop over at the Cozy C tonight? That way we can iron it all out, and I can talk to Eli again.”
“Are you still trying to convince him to sell?” she asked, wondering if the consultation was the true reason for his visit or if it was further contact with Eli.
“I might be, but that won’t be first on my priority list. I want you to get started on the party,” he assured her.
“I often contract with the flower shop right here in Fawn Grove for flowers and decorations, too. I can work up a proposal on my lunch hour and have it ready for you tonight.”
“You are organized.”
“I try to be.”
“Beautiful, smart and a good business sense. What more could a man want?”
The compliment was nice, but she wasn’t sure she liked it coming from Scott Donaldson. Still, maybe he meant nothing by it.
Ty studiously kept his attention on the breakfast in front of him when she ended the call and returned to eating.
“So you’re going to do it?”
She looked up at him. “I’m going to write up a proposal and see if he accepts it.”
Ty glanced sideways at her. “He’s a flirt and a charmer.”
“He’s a potential client, and if Jordan wants to go to college someday, I’d better start saving now.”
Eli harrumphed.
Ty went back to eating, and Marissa wondered what kind of reception Scott Donaldson would get when he came in the door of the Cozy C tonight.
That evening, around seven, Eli sat in the living room watching TV while Ty was checking on the horses in the barn. Marissa had given Jordan a few harmless utensils to play with and he used them to push around his blocks as well as banging them on the floor every now and then. When she’d gotten home tonight, Eli had let her use the computer in the barn to print out a proposal. Now it sat on the counter just waiting for Scott Donaldson.
She heard the vehicle drive down the lane and the purr of an expensive engine. A few minutes later, she heard a car door shut, and then the knock came on the door. But before she could pick up Jordan and go into the living room to answer it, Ty stepped inside, Scott right behind him.
Scott Donaldson had a thousand-watt smile for her. Ty’s face was stoic. He had let the guy in but surely hadn’t wanted to.
Donaldson came in first and glanced down at Jordan. “I think he’s grown since I saw him last.”
“Where did you see him?” Ty wanted to know.
“I got a glimpse of him at church on Sunday,” Scott responded. “He certainly was well behaved for his age.”
Ty looked from her to Donaldson as if they’d had some kind of secret meeting. Well, if he had questions, he’d just have to ask them later. She had seen Scott at church and waved at him, but that was about it.
Ty went to Jordan and picked him up from the floor. He said, “How about if we change you into your night gear? That will give your mommy time to consult.”
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. It was hard to conduct a business meeting with a fourteen-month-old demanding her attention. It was plain to see that Ty understood that.
After he’d left the kitchen, she brought the proposal to the table. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Sure would. I stop in at that expensive coffee shop in town every day, and I can’t say it’s worth it.”
“No flavored coffee here,” she joked. “Ty and Eli are straight caffeine cowboys.”
She poured herself a mug and him one, too, careful not to get any drips on the table.
“How’s business for the new year?” Donaldson asked.
“We just started the media campaign.”
“So you’re involved in that, too, Miss Lopez? Do you mind if I call you Marissa? I like to be on a first name basis with business associates.”
That made sense, she supposed. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Then call me Scott. Okay with you?”
“That’s fine,” she said, sitting down across from him.
Instead of staying where he was, he moved his chair closer to hers, ostensibly to be able to read the proposal more easily. She could smell his cologne, something musky that smelled expensive. His suit was expensive, too, a navy wool with pinstripes. She guessed his tie was silk. When he first walked in, she’d noticed his cordovan loafers, a little different from Ty’s boots.
He checked the first page of the proposal, her hourly rate, and seemed satisfied with it. Then he began studying the next page where she’d detailed the expenses—the flowers, decorations, food and servers. She’d spent a good portion of her lunch hour on the phone with the florist and the caterer.
Scott leaned back in his chair and gave her a grin. “I should have done this long before now. You’ve covered everything and I didn’t have to spend a minute of time on it.”
She laughed. “I hope I covered everything. Are you sure the hors d’oeuvres meet your approval? Anything on there can be changed. If you don’t want the crab balls, we can go with stuffed mushrooms instead. The stromboli squares are always a big hit. We served them at the bachelor auction.”
“I can see you’ve added a wine selection,” he said. “Raintree Wines?” He arched an eyebrow.
“I based the prices on Raintree Wines, but if you’d like another brand, that’s fine.”
Now he laughed. “I’m teasing. Of course we’ll use Raintree Wines. Only one thing I’d like to add. How about an open bar? Can you find me a bartender? Some of my contacts are strict bourbon drinkers, and they know good bourbon. How about Pappy Van Winkle’s, fifteen year?”
She computed in her head and added a number onto the list of other expenses. “That’s how much we’d add on.”
“Marissa, I find this all quite affordable. I’m not sure you’re charging a high enough hourly rate. Just today you had to have spent at least an hour or two on this.”
“Since you’re my first client, the consultation and preliminary work were free.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s good business, a way to make sure I hire you again, or if you’re cheating yourself.”
He was friendly and winsome and she liked his honesty. “Believe me, I’m not cheating myself. I can buy a bunch of diapers with this commission.”
Again he laughed. Then he grew more serious. “So tell me something, Marissa. I’ve heard rumors about you and Ty Conroy. Are you living here permanently, or is this a temporary situation?”
Should she tell him it was none of his business? Why was he even asking? Then she thought about the hefty commission, and having him hire her for more party planning in the future, maybe even spreading the word about her services.
“This is temporary. Ty and I are just trying to find our footing as parents.”
“I see,” he said, leaning a little closer to pick up the pen.
Just then, Ty came into the kitchen, holding Jordan. Again he wore an expression that gave nothing away. Jordan was all changed, in his red, yellow and blue color-blocked pajamas.
“Time for Jordan’s snack,” Ty said, pulling the baby’s high chair over to the table.
Scott said, “I guess I’d better sign on the dotted line.” He did so, and then turned to Marissa. “If you have any questions, or any problems crop up, just give me a call. My cell phone’s always turned on.”
“I’ll do that. The florist will probably want to set up in the afternoon on the day of the party. The caterer will set up about an hour before. Is that all right?”
“No problem with either. I’ll make myself scarce so I’m not in the way. You’ll be there to direct everything?”
“Of course.” She could ask Kaitlyn or Sara to babysit now that this was a done deal. They often exchanged babysitting favors.
Scott extended his hand, wanting to shake hers. She let his fingers engulf hers and he held on a couple of moments too long, she thought.
But then he said, “It’s good to do business with you. Can you email me a copy of the proposal?” he asked.
“Sure thing.”
“Good night, then. I’ll talk to you soon.” His words had a husky, promising quality that made Ty’s eyes narrow. When she would have accompanied him to the door, Scott said, “I’ll touch base with Eli later. I can let myself out.”
A few moments later, they heard the front door close.
Ty pulled a container of the cookies she’d baked from the counter, took out one and laid it on the tray of the high chair. “You two seem to get along well.”
“Ty, this is business.”
“And Donaldson knows how to do business. I heard him laughing. I heard you laughing.”
“We were discussing his party and the kind of bourbon he wanted to serve.”
Ty’s brows arched. “Bourbon. He was sitting a little close to be discussing bourbon.”
“Say what’s on your mind, Ty.”
“All right. He’s got money, he’s got looks and he’s got flash.”
“And what of it?” she asked. “I imagine if I have other clients who can afford a party planner, they’re going to have all of those, too. By the way,” she said, wanting to change the subject, “do you mind if I use your computer again to send him the proposal?”
“You’re going to need a computer of your own, especially if you do more business like this.”
“I can’t afford one right now.”
“You’re welcome to use my laptop. It’s usually on the dresser in my bedroom. It’s more up-to-date than the one in the barn that we use mainly for record keeping.”
It was in his bedroom.
She thought about standing in there with him. She thought about possibly lying in his arms in there. Scott Donaldson might have all the qualities that Ty had just mentioned, but he wasn’t Ty Conroy. Her feelings for Ty were growing deeper, but she wasn’t sure she should let herself fall for him all over again.
“I left my flash drive down at the barn,” she explained. “I’ll just use that computer for now. But I’ll wait until after I put Jordan to bed.”
“You don’t need to wait,” he said. “I know you want to take care of business. I’ll give Jordan his milk and another cookie if he wants it. Go take care of business.”
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. “Not for just giving Jordan his snack, but for taking him upstairs earlier. If I do start planning events outside of Raintree Winery, I want my dealings to be professional. I could do that tonight because of your help.”
“Marissa, I want you to succeed as much as I want the Cozy C to succeed. Remember that, okay?”
She would.
The signed proposal was still in her hand, and she couldn’t help but be excited by the opportunity. With luck Scott Donaldson would throw more business her way. She was starting on her brand-new future—with or without Ty. Yet tonight, when Scott had asked her the question whether her staying at the Cozy C was temporary or permanent, in the bottom of her heart, she wished her stay was permanent.
* * *
Late the following Saturday morning, Marissa had joined in a conversation between Hannah and Eli in the living room. Hannah had brought a cake she’d baked from a new recipe as well as another casserole.
Jordan tugged on Hannah’s arm. Hannah smiled at him and scooped him up onto her lap.
“Do you want in on this conversation?” she asked, tickling his tummy.
He giggled.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened and Ty came in. He looked like a man on a mission.
After greeting Hannah, he turned to Marissa. “How would you like to come with me to cut down a Christmas tree? We’ll take the buckboard.”
“So we’re going pretty far?” she asked.
“Far enough to find a good one. I wouldn’t want to bring one back and have you say it’s too small, or it has a bare spot on the side.”
“I’m not that particular,” she protested.
His brows lifted. “I have a feeling you’re going to want this one to be perfect.”
Eli chuckled, too. “He’s right, Marissa. You know he is.”
“I’m not doing anything particular this morning. I can stay and babysit,” Hannah offered. She nuzzled the baby. “Jordan and I get along just fine.”
Instinctually, Marissa trusted Hannah and her kind, nurturing way. “Thanks. I’ll change him and give him a snack before I go.”
But Hannah was already shaking her head. “Nonsense. You don’t think I remember how to change a baby? Then we’ll have fun with our snack. Eli and I can have another cup of coffee.”
“I’ll get my jacket.”
Minutes later as she zippered her jacket over her pink blouse, she watched Ty harness Bruno, one of the larger horses, to the buckboard. His hands worked expertly, so strong and capable. But as she watched them, she imagined them on her skin. Whenever he touched her, he did it with such sensual gentleness. Whenever he kissed her, her universe rocked. Falling in love with Ty again seemed so natural that she didn’t know if she could stop it. She had fallen in love with him that night they’d made love, yet she’d known it was a love that had no future. Now she was afraid to believe it could.
Ty laid a tarp in the buckboard bed, then climbed up on to the seat and patted the bench next to him. She climbed up too and sat, leaving about six inches of space between them. He jiggled the reins and clucked to the horse. Bruno started walking.
“Unc and I got our invitations to Donaldson’s party. They were a surprise, especially mine.”
“You both were on his list.”
“Does he think some party is going to convince Unc to sell the Cozy C?”
From what she’d seen of Scott Donaldson, he was just covering the bases. “I think this party is about his business associates and contacts he’s made. Whether or not you and Eli sell, you’re contacts.”
Ty was silent as he drove the buckboard over a rutted path just wide enough for it. It was bumpy but he didn’t seem to notice. He seemed lost in thought.
Finally she said, “I feel like a pioneer crossing the plains.”
“They weren’t going in search of a Christmas tree.”
“I don’t know, Ty, they were searching for dreams. Aren’t we doing the same thing?”
He made eye contact then, but didn’t respond.
Suddenly he said, “Unc isn’t talking to me about Donaldson’s offer.”
“Maybe he’s not considering it.”
“Selling the Cozy C would give him immediate security.”
“Not necessarily long-term security, though,” she suggested. “Whatever the amount is, it could seem like a lot, but Eli could live a long life. I just can’t see him happy in a retirement home or living in a condo somewhere. Can you?”
“No, I can’t. But this is going to be his decision to make. It’s not a decision he’s going to make now, but I imagine he’ll think about it in the next year or two.”
And just what would Ty do if Eli did sell? With rodeoing out of the picture, what would he want to do?
“The Cozy C website is getting hits,” she told him, “and we’re acquiring more social media followers now.”
“Thanks to you. I think you brought everybody over from Raintree.”
“I’ve checked the profiles of some of the followers. We even have some on the East Coast. We’re getting there, Ty, really.”
“I want to take more photographs of the Cozy C to post,” he said. “That should create even more interest. The inside of the cabins, the horses in the pasture and the barns.”
“People would be interested in the food you’re going to serve, too. I could bake a few pies and take photos, get one of our beef stew and your uncle’s chili.”
“You do have good ideas.”
“Just remember that when we can’t agree on which tree to cut down,” she teased.
Most of the time, Marissa forgot that Ty had had a knee replacement. Only when he came back from PT looking worn-out and heading for an ice pack did she wonder if he was in pain more than he was letting on. Today she thought he favored that leg a little as he got off the buckboard and carried the saw toward a grove of firs.
“I’m going to help,” she said.
“Doing what?” he retorted.
“There has to be something.”
“You pick out the tree and I’ll cut it down. We’ll be all set.”
She knew that wasn’t the bottom and top of it. She knew they’d have to drag the tree to the buckboard, and she could possibly help with that.
They dawdled around the trees, sizing them up. One grew against another and didn’t have a back. Too many had big gaps in them that would be a problem for hanging ornaments. She was surprised at Ty’s patience as she tried to decide.
The scent of fragrant pine surrounded them as they stepped between two rows of firs. Suddenly she saw it. The perfect tree.
“That one,” she said with an excited note in her voice.
Ty looked toward where she pointed. They walked over to the seven-foot-tall tree and made a circle around it, studying it from every angle.
“I think you found a good one,” Ty agreed. “Once we put it in the tree stand, it will almost reach the ceiling. It will be perfect in the stairway corner. We can mound Jordan’s presents all around it.”
“Do you have a tree stand?” she asked.
“I do. I got it last week. So we’re all set. We can put it up when we get back.”
She liked the idea of decorating the tree today and starting their holiday. “While you’re sawing down the tree, I’d like to collect some pine boughs.”
“I thought you might want to do that,” he said with a smile. “I brought clippers. They’re in the tin box in the buckboard bed.”
Marissa fetched the clippers and began snipping pine boughs as Ty began sawing the fir close to the ground. She heard the tree fall.
“I can help you carry it to the buckboard,” she called.
He called back, “No need.”
She must have had her eyes on Ty, the breadth of his back, the straightness of his spine, the muscles in his arms that rippled under his long-sleeved T-shirt. She must have been admiring the slant of his jaw and noticing the tilt of his Stetson, because as she clipped an upper branch, she lost hold of it and it fell, scraping her cheek. She’d been intending to clip the softer boughs from it, but evidently distracted, she’d cut the branch, and now it bounced on her shoulder and fell to the ground.
She must have let out a little squeal because Ty immediately left the tree and came over to her.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Nothing major.”
“You scraped your cheek,” he said. “We should clean that off. I have bottles of water in the buckboard.”
“Ty, really. I’m fine.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward the buckboard, coaxing, “Come on.”
Leaving her pile of boughs behind, she followed him, liking the feel of his hand enclosing hers.
At the buckboard he reached over the side to a six-pack of water. He tore one free and opened the top, then he pulled a folded red paisley handkerchief from his pocket.
“It’s clean,” he said with a smile.
“I don’t need first aid,” she protested again.
“We’re just going to wash it until you get back to the ranch. Then you can put some antiseptic and salve on it. Your face is too pretty to have it marred by a scrape.”
When she studied his face, she realized the compliment was sincere. “You really think I’m pretty?”
“I’ve always thought you were pretty. You were the prettiest girl in high school.”
She scoffed at that. “Back then I didn’t know what to do with my hair. It was just a fuzz of curls. I always thought my mouth was too wide and my nose was too short.”
He put a finger over her lips. “Don’t tell me those teenage insecurities still plague you.”
“The night we hooked up...” she murmured, trailing off. Then she continued, “Why did you want to?”
“Why did you want to?” he tossed back at her as he gently wiped the scrape with the handkerchief.
“I thought you were funny and sexy and exciting.”
He leaned away for a second. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Seeing you all grown-up, more mature than you were in high school, I thought you were elegant, sexy and warm. When we talked, I felt good being around you.”
“So it wasn’t just attraction.”
“Not then and not now. Besides, you’re the mother of my son. That makes me look at our attraction in a new light. The closer we are, the better it is for Jordan.”
She wasn’t sure she believed that, but she could see Ty did.
He poured more water on the handkerchief and held it to the side of her face. Even with that cold water on her cheek, she felt her face growing warm. She was thinking about kissing Ty. She was thinking about doing more than kissing Ty.
As if he read her thoughts, he balled the handkerchief into his palm, leaned in and set his lips on hers. Every time they kissed, her knees grew weak. Every time they kissed she wanted more of him. Did he feel that way, too? She wanted to ask but she didn’t want to stop kissing him.
He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her tight against him. Before she could guess his intent, he broke the kiss, swung her up into his arms and lifted her to the back of the buckboard onto the tarp he’d laid out for the tree.
He sat her on the edge and ran his hands through her curls. “I want you, Marissa, and there’s no one around for miles.” Leaning into her neck and kissing her, he murmured, “I have protection in my pocket.”
Ty was exciting...so exciting. Only he would think about making love here on the buckboard with pine trees all around them, and the sun shining down on them. He had protection, and she wanted him with an urgency that overtook her in a huge overwhelming wave.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Lay in the buckboard with me?” she asked.
His eyes sparked, the blue becoming deeper. “The wood’s too hard. We can do it right here.”
He meant to take her while standing right there, in front of the buckboard?
Before she could ask him, he unzipped her jacket and began kissing her all over again, and she lost her train of thought. As she dug her fingers into his hair, she flipped his Stetson forward. He laughed, swiped it off and tossed it into the buckboard.
“I don’t need my hat and we’d better get rid of your jeans.”
She knew her eyes were wide with anticipation and excitement as she became breathless at the thought of what they were going to do.
“No one’s around for miles,” she repeated, assuring herself of that fact.
“Just let go, Marissa. Forget about rules and standards and what you’re supposed to do. Just go with it.”
Kissing him, she could just go with it.
He unsnapped her blouse, unhooked her bra, and her breasts were bare to the warm sun and the breeze and the freedom that Ty seemed to embody. He traced her breasts with his fingers, and then brought his lips to her nipple. Teasing around it, he palmed her other breast, and she knew she was his no matter what he wanted to do.
She clasped his shirt, eager to feel his skin, too, and insinuated her hands underneath, sliding them up his chest, playing with his chest hair.
He groaned. “This isn’t going to last very long with you doing that.”
“It doesn’t have to last very long to get us where we want to go.”
He chuckled and she felt the rumble of it under her palm.
He unfastened her jeans and she unfastened his. When he pushed hers off, she could feel the cool tarp under her. He brought her closer to the edge of the buckboard. His jeans were unzipped but still hanging on his hips. He used his fingers in a most tempting way, arousing her, inflaming her, increasing her hunger for him until it was as great as his for her. When she didn’t think she could withstand much more, he stopped, tore open a foil packet and prepared himself.
“Open for me,” he said, and she did as he commanded. He gripped her backside, and then entered her swiftly, taking her breath away. She held on to him as he thrust harder and deeper. When she wrapped her legs around him, he kissed her so deeply she knew they had to be one.
Making love with Ty was like reaching up and finding a place among the stars. As he thrust into her again and again, she found pleasure like nothing she’d ever known. She called his name and with a groaning release, he murmured hers.
And as she held on to him, she knew she wasn’t falling in love with Ty Conroy again, she’d already fallen. The question was—what was she going to do about that?