Tangled Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk Falls #2) (11 page)

What had she meant by that?

A
bby’s eyelids flew open
, and she bolted upright. “Oh, God.” Her gaze rested on her coat draped over Brandon’s desk chair. “What am I doing here?”

She pulled the comforter to the side, sliding out of the blankets. Still fully dressed, her boots lying against the desk leg.

How did she end up in Brandon’s bed, and did she sleep in there alone? A warm maple scent interrupted her struggle to remember when exactly she’d fallen asleep last night. Was Brandon now making her breakfast?

She smiled thinking back to their date—how bright the sky lit up and how wonderful it was to share that moment with him. His opening up to her about his family and the reason he sought refuge in stargazing had touched her heart.

If all their dates were anything like last night, she couldn’t wait to get started on the next one.

Getting up, she walked over to the full-length mirror and patted her belly. “Four more dates to make your daddy fall in love with me,” she whispered. “That’s all we’ve got, little turkey.”

But first, she needed to know exactly how last night ended, so she headed for the kitchen. Her breath hitched as she watched Brandon in front of the stove, flipping a pancake and wearing gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. He’d never made breakfast for her the entire time they were sleeping together. She didn’t even know he could cook. First the chili, now pancakes?

She cleared her throat causing him to turn toward her.

“Morning, Red.” He set his spatula down and reached for a glass of orange juice, bringing it over to her. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and took a seat. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on the boat.”

He nodded and began to butter the pancakes. “We both did. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t drive you home. I was pretty beat.”

“And I live so far away,” she teased.

Picking up a syrup bottle, he turned it upside down and gave it a squeeze. “But if I took you home, you wouldn’t have the opportunity to experience my famous pancakes.”

Her eyebrow shot up at the high dollop of whipped cream with two chocolate chip eyes that he set down in front of her. “What is this all about?”

“You don’t like my spooky pancakes?”

She laughed now realizing what he’d done. “It’s too bad I’ve already bought everything I need for the after-school program baking lesson this afternoon. This would have been a cute idea.”

“Well, there’s always next year. Now eat up.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice. Baby Swift was hungry.

“So, what else is on your agenda for today?” He slid into the chair next to her and attacked a stack of his own.

“I thought I’d hit the grocery store this morning to get a few things for the Halloween party menu and bring them by the inn, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sounds good to me. My inn is your inn.”

She grinned at that statement.

“Oh, make it the Lakeside Inn is your inn.”

Abby held her fork up to her mouth. “What?”

“You said last night it would be the perfect lakeside inn. I agree. That’s its name. What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect.” That she had a hand in naming it made her heart swell.

“So, what’s on tap for you later today? Besides baking with the kids.”

Abby loved that Brandon was curious about her day. “Emma and I are making some pies this morning for the pumpkin pie-eating contest that the library holds the day after the chili contest.” She paused, pointing her fork at him. “Don’t even get any ideas?”

“What?”

“I am not stuffing my face with pumpkin pie for our next date. No more contests.”

He chuckled, and that cheery sound made her all warm and happy inside. “Noted. I’ll let Shane know. No more food contests.” He dug into his stack. “So, I’m assuming the baking lesson is taking place at the Sugar Spoon.”

“Yes, and we’re making witch and spider cupcakes.”

“Sounds like fun. Will you make me a special cupcake?”

Abby blinked at that question and her throat clenched. If only she’d never made the one that caused him to lose any recollection that they’d been together. “I’ll see what I can do.” She looked down at her plate.

“How many kids will be there?”

“Twenty, and I’ve invited all the moms, too.” She pushed a piece of pancake around, soaking up some syrup. “I wanted to assure them that I’ll be using a cookbook and not a spell book.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m sure it will be a great time.”

“So, what’s on your agenda?”

“I’ve got the painters coming out later today. I thought I’d spend most of it at the inn. I’m going to do a double shift at the tavern later this week, so this is probably the only full day I’ll have to get some things done.”

“Sounds like a productive day.”

“Yeah. Bridget and Tom offered to help pick out some decorations. We’ll either do that today or tomorrow.”

“Let me guess—lots of cobwebs, fake blood, and skeletons.”

“Well, it is a Halloween party.” He cocked a playful eyebrow. “Do you know what you’re going to be yet?”

She didn’t. She hadn’t thought about dressing up, but given the fact she was co-hosting this shindig, she probably should. “I’ll think of something.”

“Maybe we could go as a famous pair like Bonnie and Clyde . . .”

“Or Batman and Robin,” she added.”

“Or Tarzan and Jane.” He pounded his chest and gave a little roar.

“You’d like any opportunity to show off your abs, wouldn’t you?”

He lifted up his shirt and flexed his pecs. “Damn straight.”

She gulped down her juice, trying hard not to imagine all the times she’d run her fingers down his chest. “What about the tours you plan on doing that night?” she asked, changing the subject. “Are you going to take people up to the third floor?”

“I don’t think so.” He finished his pancakes and pushed his plate to the side.

“You know, you’re going to have to go up there sometime.”

“I told you I needed you by my side for that . . . for protection.”

She snapped her fingers. “I have an idea. Why don’t we do it during one of our dates?”

He raised an eyebrow at that suggestion. “For real?”

“Sure, why not. We’d have Shane with us who could capture it all on camera. It actually could be a fun pre-Halloween blog post. Very timely.”

“I like it. Another good suggestion, Abby Stevens.”

“What can I say? If you’re really scared, we could invite my Aunt Sheila to join us. She has a way with ghosts.”

“Okay, but we do it during the day and not for our next date. I’d like to do something that doesn’t involve being scared out of my mind.”

Good thing she wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby.
She finished her orange juice. “So, when is our next date?”

“Why, Abby, are you anxious to spend time with all this?” He motioned his hand up and down his abs.

Her eyes rolled, but internally she answered a resounding yes before doing a mental cartwheel. “I just need to know how to plan my night,” she said, trying to sound all matter-of-fact about it. “It’s tomorrow night, right?”

“Let’s see.” He reached for his phone, scrolling through messages. “Actually, looks like it’s tonight.”

“Really?” Abby’s heart began to pound at that news.

“Yeah, it says they’d like for us to go on the date you planned had you won the chili cook-off. They must have watched yesterday’s footage.” He leaned back in his chair and propped his hands around his head. “Looks like I’m all yours for the evening. What will we be doing?”

Abby stood and headed to the sink, turning on the faucet. “That’s a secret.” She scraped off her plate, downplaying just how excited she was that she’d get to choose the date this time. “I’ll meet you at the inn at five o’clock, if that works for you.”

“Works for me. Where should I tell Shane to meet us?”

“Oh, I’ll take care of that. He gave me his cell phone number last night.”

“Oh, he did, did he? I need to keep an eye on him,” Brandon joked. Coming up beside her, he set his own plate in the sink. “So, Abby . . . I was kind of thinking this morning about us taking things up a notch.”

“Taking things up a notch,” she repeated, her words a little shaky.

“Yeah. Well, you want to make little Spike’s dad jealous, don’t you?”

She laughed at that nickname and shook her head. “Do
not
ever call my baby, Spike.”

Her gaze met his, and her lips turned up. “So, what did you have in mind? Holding hands?”

“It would definitely be a start.” He threaded one of her hands through his. That single act caused her heart to gallop.

Brandon’s phone rang and he let go of her hand way too soon. “This could be the painters.” He grabbed his phone and headed into the living room.

Seconds later, Abby could hear him welcoming whomever it was home. Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, God.
What if it was Jason?
She wasn’t ready to fess up to Brandon’s best friend about what she’d done. Not when she and Brandon were starting to really connect.

Or were they? His suggesting they take things up a notch had surprised her, but then he’d shared his reasoning—to make her baby’s father jealous. Was that really his main motivation, or was he feeling the same spark that currently pulsed through her?

She turned on the faucet again and squirted some dish soap onto her plate, deciding to wash the dishes. It was the least she could do after he’d made such a scrumptious breakfast. Soaping a plate, she thought about what they’d be doing tonight.

And it was going to be very old Hollywood romantic. The town had the most charming, historic theater in the center of Main Street that showed classic films during the week. She’d checked yesterday and they were playing
Casablanca
—one of her absolute favorites.

She remembered him mentioning that he loved Italian food, so they’d have dinner at a quaint restaurant the next town over before the movie started.

Spending time in the old theater was one of her favorite pastimes; she simply couldn’t wait to share it with Brandon.

That is, if she finished everything she needed to do today. It was jam-packed with pie making and then hosting the kids for the career exploration program. She’d already planned to bake witch and spider cupcakes with the budding bakers and had purchased the ingredients and supplies last week. Emma said it would be fine to use the Sugar Spoon kitchen.

Hearing Brandon’s footsteps, she spun around. “Everything okay?”

“I think so.” He raked his hand through his hair, his expression not so convincing. “It was Caitlin.”

Abby’s stomach churned at that news.
Brandon’s former fling was back in town?
“She’s home from Paris?”

“Evidently.” He sat down. “And she wants me to meet her at the Star Lite for lunch.”

“Oh. Are you going?” She really shouldn’t have asked that question, but she’d rather know if the answer was yes.

“I told her I would.” He grabbed his keys off the table. “Can I take you home?”

“That’s not necessary. The walk will do me good.”

“Okay, I’m going to jump into the shower. Here, you’ll need this to get into the inn.” He stood, handing her the tiny silver key.

“Thanks.” Abby folded her fingers over it. “I’ll only drop the groceries off.”

“Stay as long as you need. I’ll see you tonight.” He gave her ponytail a gentle tug and disappeared out the kitchen. Minutes later, she heard running water.

Abby headed back to his bedroom to retrieve her boots and coat, anxiety taking over her earlier good mood and kicking it to the curb. Why did Caitlin have to return? Couldn’t she have stayed away a few months longer or relocated to Paris for that matter?

Would Brandon still want to go through with their dates now that Caitlin was back in the picture?

B
randon waited
in the corner booth at the Star Lite, strumming his fingers on the table. He hadn’t seen Caitlin since the morning after the Final Fling event when she’d called him every name in the book and vowed he’d regret ending things with her. That was one Labor Day Weekend to forget.

A few days later, he learned from Jason that she’d taken off to Paris for some French culinary course.

He didn’t blame her for being upset with him. He’d admit it: he’d confused their good time for something more. He couldn’t remember exactly what caused him to end things with her, but it’d been the right thing to do. Caitlin was hot and the sex had been great, but she wasn’t the one. He needed to be with someone more compatible and who had similar goals to his.

Reaching for the strawberry shake Betty had dropped down minutes earlier, he took a sip and thought of Abby, his beautiful business partner who always smelled like a delicious strawberry.

Last night’s date had been something special, and this morning was pretty cool, too. He’d never made breakfast for a woman before, besides his ex-wife. He loved the way he and Abby could just spend time together talking and laughing while stargazing or eating a home-cooked meal. What would it be like to make her breakfast every morning before work? His heart skipped at that thought.

They hadn’t done much talking about the baby’s father and that was really okay with him. Eventually he’d have to make good on his word and help her make whomever it was jealous. He’d been close to asking her if it was in fact the veterinarian she’d dated last summer, but then he remembered it wasn’t Abby but Jason who’d told him about the guy. He’d wait until she brought him up.

“Hey, handsome.” Betty sauntered up to the table, order pad in hand. “How was your date last night?”

“It was awesome.” He grinned back, suspecting she wanted juicier details since she’d orchestrated his win. “We had a nice time on the lake—stargazing. It was a gorgeous night for it.”

“Why, Brandon, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” Flipping over her order pad, she clicked her pen. “What can I get you for lunch, Don Juan?”

He chuckled and asked for a hot roast beef sandwich with a side order of fries.

“Um . . . how about a fresh garden salad and some fruit?”

He cocked his head and met her gaze. “Why, Betty, what are you trying to say?”