9. Riley
nine
Riley
“ Y ou told him everything? Over the phone?”
“Over a video call, yep. Every single thing about Chase. Right from how he hired me as an escort first to how he kept coming back and I wouldn’t accept his money. The charade I fell for and how I loved the whole cowboy bit he played.”
It wasn’t easy telling Jackson about Chase. But Jackson asked me twice why cowboys and rodeos were on my list of avoidances. I didn’t owe him an explanation, really. But even as a friend, I felt like I should tell him. I confide in Gabe most days, and he’s great, but Jackson lives here in Kissing Ridge, and it’s nice to have that one person you can count on no matter what close by.
Even if I could maybe see myself dropping my walls for someone like Jackson.
Maybe.
“So, how did he take it?”
Leaning back in my office chair, I roll my eyes with a soft laugh.
“Like the fucking gentleman that he is, Gabe. He apologized for Chase. Doesn’t even know the guy, and he apologized for his actions. Then he had to go on and tell me that even if we never date for real, he still wants to be my friend and show me not all cowboys are assholes like Chase. ”
“To be fair, Rye, can you even say Chase was a real cowboy? He entered a few rodeos here and there that we know of, and he had a failing beef farm. Hardly a cowboy. Not like this Jackson guy who sounds like he has more chivalry in his pinky than Chase’s entire body.”
Ouch. That’s too close for comfort.
“Don’t bring logic into this. I judged him and placed him into a do-not-go category. Is it the right one? Probably not, but there it is.”
Gabe hums under his breath, and I want his opinion. It’s why I called, but I don’t want to hear it now. Because Gabe has a way of picking apart all my insecurities and making me face them. Which is what makes him an amazing lawyer, a phenomenal friend, and an annoying ass all at the same time.
“Don’t do the hum thing. Say it.”
“Since you called,” he drawls, and I shake my head. “Here are my thoughts on this. You don’t hate cowboys. It’s a convenient excuse to avoid this guy who makes you feel things. You think if you let anyone else in, they’ll break your heart. A cowboy was just easy for you to dislike. You love romance, Rye. Why do you keep making it for others and not yourself?”
Okay, valid question.
“Because I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t know, Gabe. I always rush in and fall hard and when the breakup comes, I just…it feels like it’s not for me and I should enjoy romance from afar. You know, watch all the Disney movies and create the moments for others I won’t have myself. Avoid the pain.”
Gabe laughs. A full-on belly laugh, and my mouth drops open.
“You’re fucking laughing at me? What the hell, Gabe!? ”
“Riley, for one minute, listen to yourself. How the hell do people pay you money and trust you to plan weddings and shit when you’re like this? You plan these amazing things for them and what? Think they’re going to fail?”
“Of course not! I want them all to have beautiful lives together. It’s just not something I’ll ever have. It doesn’t affect my job. I can have romance and be a part of it without a breakup is all.” There’s zero chance of having my heart crushed if I’m an observer. “It fulfills me.” I add lamely.
Gabe sighs. “Give him a chance, Rye. He sounds like a good one and you like him. I can do a background check if you want.”
“Really? Wait, no. That would be such a gross thing for me to do. I trust him. Mostly.”
There’s a knock at my door and a silver-haired man pokes his head in. I motion for him to come in.
“I’ll think about it and call you later. My client is here. Thanks, Gabe.”
“Anytime.”
Ending the call, I apologize to the man in front of me.
“I’m so sorry, Carlos. I lost track of time.”
He laughs and smiles and I love how happy he always is. He and his wife are turning seventy this year and celebrating fifty years of marriage. Carlos wants to go big for his wife and I’m here for it.
“That’s okay, Riley. I know how it is. You’re a busy guy. All the ladies at the bridge club are talking about how you staged the proposal for Linda’s grandson. The one who wanted a flat-bottom boat and peaches under the moon?”
“Ah, yes. I remember. That was a swoon worthy proposal and went off without a hitch. Although having a harpist in the wilderness at dark was a challenge, but we did it.” It cost a fortune, but I delivered. “You said you wanted to meet today but didn’t tell me what you needed. Is there a change to our plans?”
“Yes. A small one if you can help me.” Carlos pulls a wrinkled and folded piece of paper from his pocket. “When we were married, Jackie had a woman bake us the most amazing strawberry shortcake. Jackie still talks about it.”
“It was that good, was it?”
He passes me the paper, and it’s a recipe for the cake. Written in a shaky handwriting that tells a story on its own, I smooth the paper and read it over with a smile.
“I finally tracked down the actual recipe. I don’t know what’s special about this one, but Jackie insists there was something different about it for it taste so good. I need your help to have one made for her from this recipe, but you can’t use the baker in town. He’s the brother-in-law to Jackie’s cousin’s son’s girlfriend and they gossip like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t want her finding out about it.”
My mind gives up trying to map that family connection because, honestly, it doesn’t matter anyway. He wants it discreet, so I’ll figure it out.
“Not a problem. Even if I have to make it myself, it will remain a secret. When do you want it? At the surprise renewal ceremony? It would be nice to have a piece right after you say your vows. Oh! I could arrange for a small tent if you want to rearrange or let me check if the atrium room is available at the Holiday Inn. That would be stunning, Carlos. And the cake could stay air-conditioned, too. ”
“That’s what I like about you, Riley. You’re always thinking of things.”
“Well, you’re the one who kept track of what his wife loves for fifty years. I’m just putting it all together for you.”
“Speaking of that, how did you make out with the dress?”
Carlos and Jackie were first married at a courthouse in a quick ceremony with cake and lemonade in a friend’s backyard as the reception afterward. He always wanted to give her the big wedding she had dreamed of. Young, newly married with a kid on the way, their finances were tight, and they skipped it. Even when the kids were grown and gone, and they settled into their lives, Jackie insisted the expense wasn’t worth it. Carlos, though, a romantic at heart, disagrees.
“Very well! Look at these.” I slide two photos over to him. “I have these two dresses and a seamstress ready to arrive on the morning of your ceremony. They’ll probably be too big, but they can easily alter either and meet our time expectations.”
“Oh, these are perfect. Riley, you have such a great knack for this.” He runs his fingers over the dress with mostly lace and a shine forms in his eyes. “I hope she chooses this one. She’ll be so beautiful in lace.”
“I like that one too. Classic lace can’t be beaten.”
“So the cake is doable? I know it’s short notice, but she mentioned it again the other day and it will be so special for her.”
“If I can’t make it work, I’ll let you know.”
Carlos stands, we shake hands, and I walk him out. After he’s gone, I pick up the phone to make venue changes first. When that’s done, I take a photo of the cake recipe and hit the grocery store.
This might be a mistake.
I shouldn’t have asked Jackson here. But friends help each other in times of need, don’t they? And right now, I need a friend.
Right on time, my security buzzer goes off and for a minute, I consider not answering. I can make up an excuse. Maybe call an ambulance to get out of here before making another great big, stupid cowboy-sized mistake.
But I can’t do that to Jackson. Instead, I press the button on the intercom.
“Jackson?”
“Hi! Fancy place here. What’s your apartment number?”
“Uh, just take the elevator to the top. It’s a security thing. I’ll meet you.”
Living in this town’s first luxury condominium project has been a learning experience. When I found out they hadn’t finished the entire top floor, I used all my savings and bought it. The mortgage payments weren’t as hefty as I thought they’d be with my down payment, and I’m thankful that being a tight saver, and smart investor paid off.
But right now, I’m self-conscious about how it might look to Jackson .
Simple, farm-boy Jackson, who likes to sit by the campfire and read books about gardening. Welcome to my super fancy penthouse!
He’s going to hate this.
The elevator opens into my private foyer and Jackson steps out. Fuck. In a pair of tailored dress pants and a short-sleeved button-down shirt, he’s a dream. His lips tilt in an easy smile as he takes the few steps towards me at my front door.
“An apron? You’re cooking for us?”
“Well, we’re cooking. I never fully explained the task to you.”
Jackson’s smile falters. “Did I overdress? When you said you wanted to invite me over for fine dining, I thought it sounded like more than jeans and a T-shirt were needed.”
“No. You’re perfect. I mean…what you’re wearing is.”
Jackson smiles wide as he raises the bag in his hand.
“You can’t take that back. You said I’m perfect.” He winks and my mouth goes dry. “I brought something for you.”
Closing the door after he’s inside, I notice the way Jackson focuses on me. He’s not once done the gawking around thing or commented on how the entire top floor is mine. It’s like I’m all he cares about and that’s a dangerous thought for me to have.
“Oh? You didn’t have to bring me anything.”
I open the bag, and for a moment, I’m confused, but a bubble of laughter bursts out.
“You brought me baby carrots?”
“It’s kind of our thing.”
Jackson shrugs like it’s not a sweet gesture, and I gawk at him like he’s a prize pig at the fair.
“Rye? ”
“Oh, yeah, let me just…put them in the fridge?”
Jackson nods as I turn to the kitchen, clutching a bag of baby carrots to my chest like it’s my favourite teddy bear.
“You can have a seat at the kitchen island.” Behind the open fridge door I duck my head, hoping the cool air takes away the flush I’m positive sits on my cheeks right now. “I’m sorry to have called you on such short notice. When you mentioned you had a long stretch of rodeo travel coming, I thought…”
Honestly, I just wanted to see him after I spilled about Chase over the phone. It’s gnawed at me all week. Making a cake is just a convenient excuse to invite him here. To maybe see if what Gabe said was right.
“No! It works great. You’re right. I’ll be away for almost three weeks. Then you have a few events you’re busy with, so if we didn’t meet up tonight, it might be awhile before we could again.”
“Wow, three weeks is a long time to be away from home.” Holding up a bottle of wine, I offer him a glass. “Do you drink wine? If not, I have herbal tea. The same kind you had at your house.”
Jackson laughs softly. “Maybe I should have brought you that, too. Sure, I’ll have a glass if you are.”
After pouring us each wine, I settle on the stool next to Jackson.
“When I told you about Chase the other night, I hope you understand why I said I don’t date cowboys.”
Jackson sips his wine and his knee touches mine as he bounces it. Even with my nerves, it makes me smile that he’s still nervous around me.
“I do and I’m sorry you had to meet someone like that. We’re not all bad though, you know.” Jackson shifts his gaze and his warm brown eyes lock with mine. “Sometimes we don’t acknowledge the signs in people because we truly are blind. Other times, we don’t believe we deserve better. But you deserve more than what he did to you, Riley.”
Jackson means it. I know he does, and it’s difficult for me to accept his words as truth.
“Thank you. I know I do, but my best friend Gabe kindly pointed out to me that I like to find excuses to hide away and I’m trying to fix that.”
“I think that’s a brave thing to do.” Jackson gestures to the ingredients on my island. “Are we baking tonight?”
Grateful for the change of topic, I grin.
“Yes! So, I’m in a bit of a crunch to make one of my clients happy. He’s the sweetest man, and he wants a cake for his surprise wedding reception, but I can’t use anyone in town because of gossip.”
Jackson laughs, and the sound is just like that first day. Deep and uninhibited. So warm and friendly.
“Don’t I know it! The gossip vine is crazy here. When we first set up our hydroponics on my property, all the ladies at the hair salon said I was growing illegal marijuana and had a dog fighting ring.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth. “Oh my god! I can see how marijuana might be assumed, but dog fighting? You’d never do that. Don’t they even know you?”
Jackson’s gaze finds mine again. “Apparently not.” He lifts his glass to his lips and swallows. “But you do.”
Good grief, I want to crawl in his lap and have him call me baby. I want him to be the one to press all my pieces back together. He can’t be this good…can he?
Clearing my throat, I tear myself away from his gaze .
“Well, can you bake?”
“I guess it depends on what we’re making.”
“Strawberry shortcake.” I tap at my iPad on the stand. “Specifically, this recipe. If we can make it well enough, I’ll do it myself for Carlos. No gossip, and I don’t have to worry about a delivery getting lost or a cake that’s subpar.”
“We? So I’m part of this event now?” He smiles as he pulls the iPad closer and knocks his knee into mine. “When is it?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that you had to help me with the event or anything. I just—”
“I’m kidding Riley. I’d love to help you bake it and if I can help you pull it off, I will.”
Jackson pushes the iPad back in place.
“Do you have another apron? Let’s do this.”