Make Mine a Cowboy Page 12

  She nodded, a nervous smile spreading across her face.

  “That kiss was miles away from shabby,” she said. “I couldn’t even see shabby from where we were last night.”

  “Right,” he said. So they were on the same page. Maybe. But the only way to know for sure was to up the ante on their game of pretend. “So…” he continued. “Since we both seem to be fans of activities that are not shabby, we could make these dates that aren’t dates a little more authentic if, let’s say, I kissed you when I picked you up. For Pearl’s sake, of course. And since we know from experience that she waits up for you to get home, it only makes sense that I should also kiss you good night. Each time. Again, for Pearl’s sake.” There, how was that for a little honesty, even if it was partial honesty at best? So he wanted to kiss her. Isn’t that what two people did on a date if they both liked one another? And if Pearl believed them all that much more, then who was it hurting if they both enjoyed it?

  She popped another piece of Kit Kat into her mouth, her brow furrowed, as they continued to rock in the swing.

  When she finally swallowed, she shifted to face him.

  “People always say relationships are better when your significant other is also your best friend. I mean, I’m not saying that we’re actually significant others, but we’re playing the parts for now, right? So I don’t see why starting and ending our ‘dates’”—she made air quotes around the word—“with a kiss would be anything less than mutually beneficial.” She blushed, and he felt a little proud that simply talking about kissing him made her do that. “But our friendship is important. Being with you is easy. And real, you know? At the risk of sounding completely pathetic, I’ll admit that I don’t have a lot of friends in my life. Time and circumstance—and maybe a little of my own hang-ups—have sort of made things that way. But spending time with Ivy and Delaney and Casey…spending time with you…I guess I’m starting to realize what I’ve been missing.” She raised her brows. “How about this? I’ll agree to your kissing proposal if you can promise me that no matter what happens these next several weeks that when I go back to New York, we’ll still be…friends.”

  Right. New York.

  They could pretend all they wanted while they were here, but one big, irritating piece of reality would always be there.

  New York.

  But Ben had six months of training himself that the future didn’t exist, that all that mattered was today. Maybe he’d turned over a new leaf, but that didn’t mean he had to erase all of his selfish bad habits at once.

  He tapped what was left of his chocolate against what was left of hers.

  “To far from shabby kisses,” he said.

  She smiled. “To kisses hello and good night,” she said. “And we’ve already missed one. Hello, Ben,” she added, then surprised him by leaning over and brushing her lips softly against his.

  That was twice now that she’d initiated those good night kisses, not that he was keeping score, but it looked like he had some catching up to do.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben shook Casey’s hand as she stood to leave. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he said. “I know the tavern’s about to pack up with the dinner rush.”

  She tucked her violet hair behind her ear as Ben stood too.

  “You’re really doing this?” she asked. “Building a home for yourself, putting down real roots in our little town?”

  “You don’t believe I’ll go through with it?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure you out, Callahan. You’ve always been a bit of an enigma. But whatever this change of heart is, it looks good on you,” she said, then strolled out the door.

  Ben sat back in Sam’s office chair and crossed his boots on the desk in front of him. His stomach growled, and he told it to hold its horses. He’d be heading to Midtown soon enough for a burger and a pint.

  Technically the office belonged to all three of them—Sam, Ben, and Colt—but Sam had always managed the business side of things. Today, though, Ben had business of his own.

  In his hands he held a stack of signed and notarized loan documents for his very own piece of land. Colt was in the process of securing building permits for him, and Sam made a few adjustments to his blueprints to fit the plot of land better. It meant tomorrow, on his day off, he’d start building the frame. If he cut out sleep, he could finish the place by spring.

  This was the final piece to the puzzle—really and truly committing to the life they’d started here in Meadow Valley. He’d show his brother and Colt—and his parents—that he wasn’t all talk, that this adulting thing was for real.

  This was…huge. He wanted to tell someone. To celebrate. And his first instinct surprised him.

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Charlotte’s name in his contacts—Doc.

  But she’d be heading up the inn’s dinner rush, and he wasn’t selfish enough to interrupt that.

  Life at the inn and at the ranch had taken hold, and he hadn’t been alone with her since Halloween, since she’d kissed him again, yet both of them insisted on calling this thing between them friendship. Sure, they’d seen each other in passing, in groups where he had to do everything in his power not to scoop her into his arms and find whatever private corner was closest. Right now he didn’t care what they called their arrangement. All he cared about was spending time with her when he could and figuring out when he could kiss her again.

  If he was smart enough to admit it, he might call what they were doing—going on dates that might end in kissing (some really amazing kissing)—a relationship.

  “How’s that for commitment?” he said to no one in particular.

  “What’s that now? Also, would you mind getting your boots off my desk?”

  Ben’s eyes shot up to see his brother leaning against the door frame.

  “And here I thought we all owned an equal share of the ranch—which includes the desk,” Ben said, leaving his boots where they were, only because he knew it pushed his brother’s buttons.

  “And here I thought you were a grown man,” Sam said, his eyes narrowed and expression grim.

  Ben lowered his feet, then had the decency to look chagrined when he saw the flecks of dried mud that had fallen from his boots onto the desk. He quickly blew them away.

  “See?” he said. “Good as new. Don’t you want to know why I was in here with Casey for the past thirty or so minutes?”

  A muscle in Sam’s jaw twitched. “Did you not get my text this morning? Because I’m guessing it wasn’t updating the website to allow guests to book volunteer time in Delaney’s animal shelter. We’re already booking into next fall, and she’ll be up and running by the end of winter.”

  And now Ben was chagrined for a whole new reason.

  “Right. The website. I did get the text. I just got sidetracked.”

  “I thought you didn’t do that anymore,” his brother said with a sigh. “And by a pretty woman, which is also nothing new. Casey’s a friend, Ben. You mess that up, and there goes my first draft being on the house.”

  Ben stood and brandished the stack of documents at his brother.

  “Casey’s a notary. I just closed on the property. Thanks to you and Colt, everything’s zoned. Permits are just about approved. Since I’m simply continuing what was already going to be a residential structure—and because Nora at the courthouse has a soft spot for me—I can get started whenever I want.” He shrugged. “I have tomorrow afternoon off. Thought I’d ask if you had some free time and wanted to come by and break ground with me.”

  “Can’t,” Sam said. “Luis is short help in the kitchen tomorrow, so I’m on meal prep at dawn and on call to help with lunch and dinner if he needs. And while I appreciate your enthusiasm for this little house project of yours, the ranch comes first. But congratulations on making it official. I hope you know what you’re in for.”

  Ben brushed nonexistent dust from his jeans.

  “Sure thing, big brother,�
�� Ben said, trying not to read too much into Sam’s tone. Eventually someone would believe that he was in this life for the long haul, that he was ready to carry his weight even if he was a little selfish, still, with his free time. “Excuse me while I go and grab myself one of those on-the-house drafts and unwind after a long day.”

  Sam shook his head. “Sorry, brother. But you’re not off the clock yet.”

  Ben went through his mental checklist. He’d finished the last scheduled trail ride an hour ago. Horses were set for the night. Luis had a fajita bar going for dinner, and Colt was on dinner duty. All that was left was the bonfire, which was on Sam’s docket for the night.

  “I’m pretty sure I am as soon as I take care of the website, which will be fifteen minutes tops,” Ben countered. “But if you’d like to enlighten me as to what I’m missing, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.” No, he wouldn’t. He was tired and hungry and ready for that beer.

  “I just got a frantic phone call from Pearl Sweeney,” Sam said.

  Ben’s pulse quickened. “What happened? Is she okay? Is Doc—I mean Charlotte— What happened?”

  Sam’s brows drew together, and he rested a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder.

  “Wow,” Sam said. “Maybe you are starting to walk the walk. Well, if you care about what goes on over at the inn as much as it seems like you do, then you won’t mind waiting tables this evening.”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?” There was caring what happened with Pearl and Charlotte and then there was trading a couple hours on a bar stool for the dinner rush.

  “Tracy, Pearl’s best server, just went into labor three weeks early. Said she wanted to work right up until the baby came and, well, baby’s on its way and Pearl can’t get a replacement until tomorrow, maybe not even until Thursday. She said she’d pay you for your time, but I told her that wouldn’t be necessary. You’d be happy to help out.”

  Ben opened his mouth, then closed it.

  He knew horses and riding. He knew building something from nothing. And if he remembered to do it, he could even update the ranch’s website.

  But waiting tables? In the early days of opening the ranch—when they hadn’t booked enough guests to warrant Luis cooking in bulk—they’d tried to do the whole make-your-food-to-order deal with less-than-stellar consequences. Ben still had nightmares about carrying a tray of drinks only to spill them all down his torso and pants when he was just a foot away from the guests.

  “How hard could it be?” Sam asked, as if he were reading his brother’s thoughts.

  “I don’t suppose you want to trade and give me the bonfire?”

  Sam shook his head and gave his brother’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  “Delaney just took in an abandoned mutt from Dr. Murphy’s clinic. She’s working on socializing her with Scout and Butch Catsidy tonight, so I should stay nearby. In case of emergency.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. Delaney was an animal whisperer. He was certain—and he was sure Sam was too—that she’d have no trouble hanging out with two dogs and a three-legged cat tonight.

  “You know, you sound ridiculous saying Butch Catsidy,” Ben muttered.

  Sam shrugged. “You know, I thought so too at first. But Delaney loves all the animals, especially that cat. And I love her. Guess it goes with the territory, and I’m all good with that. Dr. Murphy said he’s expecting a few goats next week that are coming from some outdoor yoga studio that went belly-up. Something about doing yoga with goats? Guess I wasn’t aware that was a thing. Anyway, the owner is looking to offload the livestock, and Delaney’s taking them in as well. We’re going to have ourselves a full-on petting zoo soon.”

  Ben crossed his arms over his chest, his sheaf of papers still in hand.

  “You and Delaney are going to adopt those animals out, right? Or are we eventually going to be a ranch plus zoo?”

  Sam laughed. “A shelter’s a shelter. Means animals in need of a home will live here as long as they need to. If we end up keeping them…” He trailed off.

  Ben raised a brow.

  “I know,” Sam added with a laugh. “You’re just jealous of my growing four-legged family.”

  Ben didn’t care if Delaney ran a shelter or a petting zoo. Not when he saw his brother laugh more than he’d done so in years. Maybe he liked giving Sam a hard time about a pet’s name or whatever else he could come up with, but the truth was, seeing his brother happy made a small part of him happy, too, not that he’d ever admit that to Sam. He’d lose all teasing power if he did.

  But Sam might have been right—about the jealousy part. Maybe he and Delaney weren’t rushing to the altar or anything like that, but in the span of a month Ben had watched his brother go from lone wolf to one of the happiest people he knew. How had he gotten his life together so quickly while Ben still felt like a fish out of water?

  “You better go,” Sam said. “Pearl sounded pretty desperate.”

  “I don’t get to shower or change? Or eat?” His hunger was already bordering on hanger.

  Sam stepped out of the doorway to give his brother room to exit.

  “I’m sure you can grab some scraps after your shift,” he said with a chuckle.

  Ben brushed past his brother, then pivoted to face him.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “A little bit,” Sam admitted. “I’m just sorry I won’t get to see you in action. Maybe only carry one drink at a time just to play it safe.”

  Ben left with a parting gesture that, instead of a wave, included only one finger.

  He muttered to himself all the way to his car and into town about the cold beer and hot meal that were no longer in his immediate future.

  He was still muttering when he strode up the inn’s steps, through the main door, and into the kitchen. But then he saw the chaos. Dishes clanged onto counters and into the sink. The small kitchen staff yelled order numbers to each other across the room while Ben swore he smelled something burning. To his left, prepared plates lined two silver carts, and Charlotte rushed in from the café to grab two of them before rushing back out again.

  “Oh, thank the stars,” he heard from over his shoulder.

  He spun to see Pearl on a new motorized wheelchair rolling out of the walk-in cooler with a sealed white tub of something resting precariously on her lap.

  “Butternut squash soup,” she said, nodding toward the item. “Already sold out of what we cooked up before opening.” She tapped her temple with her index finger. “With the temperature dropping today, I had a feeling. So we made extra this morning, just in case.”

  “What do you need me to do?” he asked, feeling like an ass for pouting about the extension of his day. Clearly Pearl needed more help than Charlotte was able to manage on her own.

  One of the kitchen staff took the tub of soup, and Pearl maneuvered her way to the rapidly filling carts.

  “Get this food out there before it turns cold. Or before the sandwiches and salads go warm. Or before—”

  “I’m on it!” he said. He rushed to the sink and gave his hands a good scrub. Then he lined his right arm with three plates and marched into the café. “Okay!” he called out, his voice booming, and all the patrons—and Charlotte—froze and gave him their attention. “I’ve got a Cobb salad, a chicken sandwich, and my favorite, PB and J Brie panini.”

  “I’ve got the salad!” one woman called out.

  “Chicken’s mine!” said a man one table away from her.

  “I’ve got the panini with Brie!” another woman said with a flirty grin. She sat at a table with three other women, all of them around Ben’s age. One in particular wore a sash that said Here Comes the Bride. “You can have a bite of mine if you want…since it’s your favorite.”

  He passed the plates out in that order.

  “Thanks for the offer,” he said with a wink as he handed the woman her sandwich. “But no eating while I’m on the clock.”

  She raised her brows, patted her knee,
and then yanked on the belt loop of Ben’s jeans. Because she’d caught him off guard, he lost his footing—and fell right into her lap. The rest of the women at the table exploded into cheers and applause as the woman wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck. “You can meet us at the tavern later if you want, cowboy. Plenty more to try there.”

  “I have to work, ladies, but I’ll tell you what,” he said, gently unclasping her hands from behind his head and turning his attention to the whole table—still on the woman’s lap. “I’ll call my friend Casey at Midtown and make sure she gives you all a round of drinks on me. Sound good?”

  There was more applause, more cheers, and even a catcall or two.

  Phew. He still had a bit of game left in him, even if this table of strangers wasn’t who he wanted to impress with it.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte watching the whole transaction, mouth agape.

  Ben simply grinned, stood, and backed away from the table, then brushed off his hands and addressed the entire café once more.

  “Okay, folks! We’re a little short-staffed tonight, but I promise we’re going to get you everything you need. I’m Ben and this is Charlotte…” He nodded toward the woman who was his coworker for the next few hours or so. “We’re going to make sure you’re well taken care of. We just ask for your patience as we sort out all the orders due to our best server having to duck out early to have herself a baby.”

  The rest of the café, along with the bachelorette party, erupted in a chorus of Aws.

  “Thank you for your understanding, and we’ll have your food out to you shortly,” he added.

  Ben strode back into the kitchen. He had this in the bag.

  He was ready to pile another string of plates on his arm when he heard Charlotte’s voice.

  “How did you do that?” she asked, and he detected a hint of annoyance in her tone.

  He spun to face her and was less than prepared for her glare.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “Because you have a room full of smiling faces out there. You’re welcome, by the way.”