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“Hello, Mr. Carson,” she said.
The formality of her greeting both saddened and amused him, but he tried not to let either response show as he took a firm grasp of the extended hand and shook it. “Mr. Carson, is it?” he asked mildly. “How about calling me Mace?”
“Mace,” she repeated, looking nervous again. As before, she reined that in quickly—though not quite quickly enough. “I’m Kelly,” she said, and then seemed embarrassed.
He grinned. “Yes, I know.”
“Right,” she said, and swallowed visibly.
“You mentioned lunch?” Mace prompted with gentle humor. “In that text you sent me last night, I mean?”
“Yes,” she said, still off her game. “Lunch. I made a reservation at Stefano’s.”
“Good choice,” Mace said. He gestured with his hat, indicating the restaurant’s entrance on the far side of the lobby. “Shall we? I’m hungry.”
Again, that fetching blush colored Kelly’s cheeks. “Absolutely,” she said after drawing a breath so deep it raised and lowered her slender shoulders.
He imagined those shoulders bared, smooth and sun-kissed, along with her perfect breasts.
Mace shook off the image. Thought about offering his arm, then decided against it. Kelly was clearly on edge, and he didn’t want to make things any more difficult for her—or for himself—than they already were.
“Relax,” he said in a husky whisper. “This is business, remember?”
Her smile was on the wobbly side, but it was a smile, at least, and it was beautiful. “I guess I’m still a bit jumpy after the other night. Sorry.”
They were moving by then, approaching the restaurant. “You’re feeling okay, though?” he asked. “Nothing hurts?”
She shook her head. Her honey-colored hair was done up in a fashionably sloppy bun, exposing her long, elegant neck, and Mace suppressed a powerful urge to take her shoulders in his hands, trace the length of that silken flesh with his mouth.
“I’m in great shape,” she said.
You can say that again, Mace thought wryly. But all he said was, “Good.”
They reached the podium in front of Stefano’s, and Kelly took charge, giving her name to the hostess on duty and saying she had a lunch reservation for twelve o’clock.
Cindy Henderson, the kid sister of one of Mace’s closest friends, beamed a smile at Kelly and nodded, taking two menus from the shelf under the podium. “Yes, Ms. Wright. Your table is ready.” Cindy turned twinkling eyes on Mace. “Hey, Mace,” she added. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Same as usual,” Mace replied easily. “You?”
“I landed that full-ride scholarship I was after,” Cindy answered proudly, looking over one shoulder as she led the way to a window-side table. “I’m majoring in agriculture.” A pause. “Maybe you’ll give me a job at Mountain Winery after I graduate?”
Mace chuckled. “Maybe,” he said. “Depends on your grades.”
Kelly, he noted, was taking in the exchange with amused interest as she walked beside him, though she said nothing.
“My grades?” Cindy asked. “Mace Carson, you know darn well I’ve had a 4.0 average for the last four years.”
“That was high school,” Mace teased. “College is harder.”
Cindy was cheerfully scornful. “I can handle college,” she said, keeping her voice down as they wove between tables, each one occupied by locals or resort guests or some combination of the two. “And I’m serious about working at the winery after I get my degree.”
“Fine and dandy,” Mace said. “But graduation is a ways off, isn’t it? A lot of things could happen between now and then. You might decide working at a winery isn’t for you, once you’ve seen how many other options there are. And you’ll meet plenty of guys, too—a lot more than you have here in the old hometown. Suppose you run into Mr. Right, and he has plans that don’t mesh with yours?”
“No way that’s going to happen,” Cindy said with the unshakable optimism of a sheltered kid raised in a small town. “I’m coming back here after college and marrying Jimmy Trent.”
Jimmy Trent was Cindy’s high-school boyfriend; he was a couple of years older than she was, and he’d joined the air force on his eighteenth birthday. Last Mace had heard, he was in flight school. Once his enlistment was up, he hoped to work for one of the major airlines and, after he’d racked up enough hours, open a small charter operation.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mace saw Kelly smile again, although she still kept whatever she was thinking to herself. She didn’t know Jimmy was in the service and might be deployed to a war zone as soon as he finished his training.
“All I’m saying,” Mace persisted mildly, “is that things can change.”
Not surprisingly, Cindy wasn’t convinced. “Not for Jimmy and me,” she said. “We have goals and we know how to reach them. Plus, we’re meant to be.”
“I hope you’re right,” Mace said. And he meant it.
He should’ve realized his friend’s kid sister thought she and Jimmy had their future locked in; she was too young and, after her solid upbringing, too innocent to understand how tricky life could be.
Cindy rolled her eyes, smiling that sweet smile of hers. “You sound just like Mom and Dad and Mike,” she said. Mike was her brother, more than a dozen years her senior. Mike worked for Fish and Wildlife, and he and Mace went way back.
“Yes,” Mace agreed, sitting down. “And maybe you ought to listen to our advice.”
Fat chance. He’d been Cindy’s age once and, back then, he’d known everything there was to know, and then some.
Cindy handed Kelly a menu and gave one to Mace. “Next, you’re going to say Jimmy and I ought to let things unfold,” she said with more than a hint of sarcasm, “instead of mapping out our whole lives in advance, because we’re both going to have a lot of new experiences and meet a lot of new people.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Mace said with a grin and a shake of his head. Might as well change the subject, since he was getting nowhere with this kid. “What’s the special today?”
“Mushroom risotto with baked chicken breast,” Cindy answered, waiting. “Aren’t you going to warn me about fast-talking college boys with only one thing on their minds?”
Kelly’s eyes sparkled as she watched him over the top of her menu, and he could see she was trying not to laugh.
“Would it do any good?”
“It would be a waste of breath,” Cindy responded briskly. “I’m not interested in any guy but Jimmy.”
“Right,” Mace said with, he hoped, the appropriate note of cheerful skepticism.
Cindy’s smile didn’t falter, but then it rarely did. “You dated the same person all through college,” she said. “Her name was Sarah, wasn’t it? She came back to Mustang Creek with you a couple of times, during Christmas break.”
Mace stole a glance at Kelly and saw that she was leaning forward slightly, a tiny smile curving her mouth, one eyebrow raised.
“And look how well that turned out,” he said.
“Oh.” For once, Cindy was taken aback.
“Yes,” Mace said matter-of-factly. “Oh. Any chance of getting something to eat in the near future?”
Cindy had the grace to look embarrassed, but although her smile wobbled a little, it held. “Would you like a drink while you’re looking at the menu?” she asked, finally remembering, evidently, that she had a job to do.
Mace met Kelly’s gaze and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“We’ll definitely want wine,” Kelly said, speaking for the first time since they’d stepped up to the podium at the restaurant’s entrance. “Something with the Mountain Winery label, of course. In the meantime, I’ll have a glass of unsweetened iced tea, please, with lemon and lots of ice. Later, when we know what we’re having to eat, we’ll decide on the wine.”
“Coffee for me, thanks,” Mace added, relieved at the change of subject.
Cindy bustled away.
“What’s good here?” Kelly asked, studying the menu. “I love risotto, but I’m not in the mood.”
Mace grinned. “Everything is good,” he replied.
Kelly smiled. “That really narrows it down,” she said, meeting his eyes and then revisiting the choices listed. “The lobster salad sounds tasty.” A slight frown creased her otherwise smooth forehead. “Of course, we’re a long way from the ocean, so seafood might be risky.”
“Not here,” Mace said. “Stefano has his lobsters flown in from Maine, alive and kicking—so to speak.”
Kelly winced briefly, probably imagining the cooking process. “There really is a Stefano?” she asked. “It’s not just the name of the restaurant?”
“There is most definitely a Stefano. He’s a master chef and he happens to own this place.” He paused. “The restaurant, which is a five-star establishment, by the way. Not the resort.”
“And he wound up in Mustang Creek, Wyoming?” Kelly asked with a teasing note in her voice.
Mace leaned closer. “Yep,” he drawled, smiling. “Strange as it might appear, he prefers snowcapped mountains and wide-open spaces to concrete and skyscrapers.”
“I’m going with the lobster salad, then,” Kelly said. “What about you?”
“I’m a sucker for Stefano’s prime rib. It’s excellent.”
“Then we’ll order red wine and white,” she said. “You choose, since you’re the expert.”
Cindy returned with the iced tea and coffee. “I’ll bring over a basket of rolls in a minute or two,” she said, her smile as bright and genuine as ever. “One of the guys in the kitchen is taking a fresh batch out of the oven.”
“Yum,” Kelly said, the tip of her tongue slipping out to moisten her lips.
Mace shifted in his chair, cleared his throat. Just like that, he’d gone as hard as a railroad spike.
“Do you need more time?” Cindy asked. “Or shall I take your orders now?”
“May I?” Mace asked Kelly, glad the lower half of his body was hidden by the tabletop and its pristine white cloth.
Kelly nodded, almost shyly. “Please,” she said.
He ordered the lobster salad for Kelly, prime rib with all the trimmings for himself, along with glasses of his best cabernet and the award-winning pinot grigio he was so proud of. At his recommendation, both were among a group of popular house wines available by the glass as well as the bottle.
“Now,” he said, when Cindy had moved away, “let’s hear your proposal.”
Kelly looked alarmed for a moment, a reaction Mace enjoyed while it lasted. “Oh,” she said. “Yes.”
“Or,” Mace went on smoothly, before she had a chance to launch into whatever pitch she planned to make, “we could enjoy our lunch, get to know each other a little and talk business later. I’d like to show you the winery this afternoon, if you’re up to it. That way, you can experience the place firsthand.”
Kelly glanced down at her expensive, take-no-prisoners outfit with uncertainty. It was perfect for a boardroom, no argument there, but a working winery and acres of dusty vineyards? Not exactly.
“You’ll want to check out the grapes,” he added when she said nothing.
The hesitation was over. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.
Mace smiled, as pleased as if she’d agreed to go skinny-dipping in a sun-dappled creek. He let his gaze rest on the lace peeking from beneath her jacket, then looked quickly away. “You ought to swap out those clothes first, though. We’re talking behind the scenes here, not just the tasting room. Comfortable shoes will save you a few blisters, too.”
He fell silent. For a long interval, they simply stared at each other, something invisible and yet entirely real arcing between them.
Mace couldn’t have said what was going through Kelly’s mind, but he was picturing her upstairs in her room, with the shades drawn, slipping out of that perfectly fitted pantsuit, taking off the slacks, the jacket, the lace-trimmed top, slowly revealing her shapely legs and arms. He put the image in freeze-frame before she got to her bra and panties, which were probably skimpy enough to be sexy as hell, because his groin, already giving him trouble, had turned to granite.
At this rate, they’d be at their table for the rest of the day, just so he wouldn’t have to stand up and let Kelly see how much he wanted her. If it came to that, he decided, he’d “accidentally” spill a glass of ice water into his lap, or maybe a whole pitcherful.
He drew a series of deep breaths.
Kelly, still looking directly into his face, fiddled with her napkin.
Cindy broke the spell by delivering the promised bread basket and, soon after that, two glasses of wine.
Kelly’s hand trembled almost imperceptibly as she helped herself to a roll. “Still warm,” she said, somehow combining a sigh and a croon as she spoke. She split the bun between her fingers, and steam escaped, along with the familiar yeasty aroma. Then she reached for a butter knife.
It was such an ordinary, everyday thing to do, buttering a dinner roll, and yet there was an erotic element to her movements that struck Mace like a body blow, forcing him to look away. Again. Just as he recovered his equilibrium and turned to face her again, she took a bite.
“Mmm,” Kelly murmured, eyes closed. “Delicious.”
Barely suppressing a groan, Mace shut his eyes, too. Get a grip, Carson, he told himself.
“Is something wrong?” Kelly asked after a second or two, with a note of genuine concern. Clearly, she was unaware of the effect she was having on her potential business partner.
“I’m fine,” Mace said. The lie came out sounding hoarse, but if Kelly noticed, she didn’t let on.
“I love fresh bread,” she added with a blissful sigh.
Cindy returned, bringing Kelly’s lobster salad and his prime rib. Mace was relieved by the interruption, and although he’d lost his appetite somewhere along the line, he picked up his knife and fork.
Kelly smiled with a hint of sadness as she watched the girl walk away, resuming her duties. “I was like that once,” she said softly. An instant later, her expression made it obvious that she regretted the remark.
Mace forgot his own concerns as he studied Kelly’s face. “You were like what once?” he asked, reaching for his cabernet.
She lowered her eyes for a moment, raised them again. Their gazes connected.
The charge reminded him of the business end of a cattle prod.
Kelly’s spine was straight as she raised her shoulders on an indrawn breath and then looked down again. “Full of plans, I guess,” she answered reluctantly. “You know. Convinced that things would turn out the way I expected.”
Mace gave a slight, rueful smile. “I can relate,” he said.
She paused, a forkful of lobster salad halfway to her mouth. “You can?” She seemed surprised. “Are you telling me you’re disappointed in your life?”
