Chapter 10
Jesse should have known Liberty would play the game well. As soon as he arrived at the Holiday Ranch, she pawned him off on Mimi.
“Why don’t you take Jesse to see your gardens, Mimi? I’m sure he would love to see all the vegetables and flowers you grow.” Liberty flashed him a smug smile. “Wouldn’t you, Jesse? Mimi is one of the best gardeners in all of Texas.”
It turned out Liberty wasn’t wrong. Mimi knew how to garden. She pointed out every flower in the front garden and told him their names and what they needed to bloom so brilliantly before she took him around back and showed off her extensive vegetable garden.
While she gave him a tour, she talked about how long the land had been in the Holiday family. He knew she was making her case so he’d talk Corbin into stopping the foreclosure proceedings.
He had tried, but he and Corbin were playing telephone tag. It was easy to do when there was a seven-hour time difference and Corbin was busy spoiling his little sister. But Jesse wasn’t worried. No matter what his reason was for wanting the ranch, Jesse knew Corbin was a deep-down good man. He wouldn’t take the Holidays’ home away from them. There had to be a misunderstanding. One Jesse would get figured out once Corbin got back.
“Liberty mentioned you’re adopted.”
Mimi’s comment pulled him from his thoughts and he returned his attention to the older woman. She wore her wide-brimmed hat, T-shirt, and jeans again. Tay-Tay was cradled in her arms. That cat loved the old woman and the feeling seemed to be mutual.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I was adopted when I was nine and happily so.”
She petted Tay-Tay. “And before that, you were in foster care?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it care.”
Mimi smiled. “I knew we had a strong bond the first time we met. I lost both my parents when I was fourteen and ended up in foster care. The family I lived with was good to me, but they didn’t want to adopt a sullen teenager. I can’t say as I blame them. I was filled with a lot of hate back then.”
Jesse understood perfectly. “I was pretty angry myself.”
She nodded. “I think anger is what kids go to when they don’t understand why bad things happen. But it looks like we found our happiness. You got good adoptive parents and I met the love of my life and he gave me this.” She looked around and smiled.
That pretty much clinched it. There was no way he could let Corbin foreclose on the ranch now.
When they got to the house, Hank and Darla were sitting on the porch swing enjoying the last rays of the sun. He could tell Hank still wasn’t thrilled he was there, but he wasn’t quite as mean looking as he’d been on Jesse’s first visit. Darla was gracious as always.
“Come join us, Jesse. It’s a lovely sunset.”
“It sure is, ma’am. Where’s Liberty?”
“She wanted to make supper by herself and shooed me out of the kitchen.” Darla’s eyes twinkled. “I think she wants to impress you.”
Or more like hide from him.
He smiled. “Well, I can’t let her go to all the trouble without a little help.”
When he walked into the kitchen, he found Liberty elbow deep in chopped vegetables. She was wearing an old-fashioned gingham apron that looked like it had been passed down from generation to generation. Why the sight of her in it made his heart trip was beyond him.
He had come in to start his seduction, but he discovered he was content to just stand in the doorway and watch her chop an onion. He didn’t realize it had made her cry until she glanced up. Seeing tears glistening in those emerald eyes totally wrecked him. Thankfully, her sassy smile kept him from rushing over and pulling her into his arms to soothe her.
“Did you have fun with Mimi?”
He moved to the island she stood at. “As a matter of fact, I did. You were right. She’s quite the master gardener. Did you know she already has tomatoes on the vine?” He pulled a paper towel off the roll sitting on the counter, then took her chin in his hand. The feel of the baby-soft skin under that stubborn chin had him feeling lightheaded with the need to place his lips there. But he pushed down the desire and concentrated on gently wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Cheeks that now held a deep flush.
It seemed Liberty wasn’t immune to his touch either. He ran his thumb over her plump bottom lip and kept his voice low since the window was open that led to the porch. “I love sweet . . . ripe . . . tomatoes right off the vine.” He watched heat fill her eyes. But a split second later, it was replaced by a determined look and she pulled away.
“I bet you do. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of sweet ripe tomatoes straight off the vine. Now as you can see, I’m pretty busy. So why don’t you head on into the living room and watch Wheel of Fortune until supper’s ready? I know how much you enjoy playing games.”
He did love a good game. But the best one was going on right here with Liberty. He rolled up the sleeves of his western shirt.
“Thanks, Libby Lou, but I happen to love helping out in the kitchen. In fact, why don’t you let me take over chopping those veggies? I’d hate for you to get more tears in your eyes and cut off one of those pretty little fingers.” He started to reach for the knife, but stopped short when she pointed it at him.
“No need. I’m an expert with a knife. But if you insist on helping me . . .” She used the knife to point at an apron hanging on a hook. “Why don’t you put that apron on, wash your hands, and start rolling some buns.”
His gaze lowered to the sweet curves of her butt in the tight jeans peeking out from the bowstrings of the apron. “Now you’re talking my language. Buns are my specialty.”
“Again, I’m not surprised.”
He laughed as he slipped on the apron and tied it. She laughed when he was finished.
“My, my, don’t you look pretty in blue ruffles.”
“You should see me in pink. It really brings out the red of my hair.” He rubbed his hands together. “Where are the buns? I’m ready to get at them.” Again, he eyed her butt. She just rolled her eyes and pointed the knife at a bowl with a dish towel over it.
“Have at it.”
Since he’d had to fend for himself at an early age, Jesse knew his way around a kitchen. But his cooking skills only went as far as easily prepared foods like box macaroni and cheese, frozen pizzas, and canned chili. Dinner rolls were beyond his culinary expertise. But he wasn’t about to let Liberty know that. Especially when she was watching him with a smug smile.
After washing his hands, he headed over to the dish towel-covered bowl and got to work. He knew what rolls should look like. He just didn’t know how to get them from the big ball of dough to the golden-brown fluffiness he loved. He figured you just grabbed a glob of dough and rolled it. How hard could that be?
It turned out to be harder than he thought. It wasn’t the rolling-them-into-balls part that was hard. It was more the getting-them-all-the-same-size part. Either he pinched off a piece of dough too big or pinched off one too little. By the time he’d finished filling the greased cookie sheet Liberty had given him, not any two rolls were the same size . . . or the same shape.
Something Liberty found quite amusing.
“If that’s what you think balls look like, I’m a little worried.”
“No need to worry. My balls are just fine.” He looked down at his misshapen rolls and scowled. They were pretty bad.
“Now there’s no need to look so depressed, darlin’.” She patted him on the butt on her way past. “We can’t all be good at handling buns.”
Despite his difficulty making dinner rolls, Jesse was enjoying himself. It wasn’t the cooking he was enjoying as much as watching Liberty. She had been right. She could cook. She had the chicken and vegetables in the oven in the time it took him to do half a tray of rolls.
But it wasn’t her expertise he enjoyed watching as much as her. Gone was the intense, bossy woman he’d seen in the pictures on the Holiday Sisters Events website and in her place was a much more relaxed, smiling woman.
Once the rolls were covered for the second rise, he leaned on the counter and watched as she added something to the cherry mixture she was making on the stove.
“Do you cook a lot in Houston?” he asked.
“Not as much as I’d like. I’m usually working until late at night so I grab something at whatever event I’m at or just have popcorn or a bowl of cereal when I get home.”
He hadn’t given much thought to the hours an event planner worked until now. Most events he’d attended were at night or on the weekends. “I guess your business doesn’t leave much free time?
She snorted as she made a salad. “Much? Try none. Belle and I work until late every night and all weekend. But that’s what happens when you run your own business. It’s up to you to make it a success.”
“Why event planning? You could run a business that has better hours.” From what he’d seen, she would be kick ass at running any business.
“Event planning was Belle’s dream.” She smiled. Not the smile she usually gave him. This smile was soft and filled with love . . . and caused an ache deep down inside him that he couldn’t explain. “My sister has always loved a good celebration. Holidays, birthdays, weddings, anniversaries. You should see her face when a bride walks down the aisle. Or a golden wedding anniversary couple redo their wedding vows. Or a ninety-year-old man blows out his birthday candles. She just loves to see people happy.”
“And you don’t?”
“It’s not that. It’s just I’m more a realist. I know the bride walking down the aisle has a forty-percent chance of getting divorced. The golden anniversary couple has probably gone through hell and back to get to fifty years. And the ninety-year-old man would probably rather be back at his care facility watching The Price Is Right than there with his family who doesn’t even come to visit him more than once a month.”
“Obviously, you’re the type of person who looks on the bright side,” he said.
She laughed. “I guess I’m not a realist as much as a pessimist.”
“So it’s not your dream you’re working the long hours for, it’s your sister’s?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really have a dream. So why wouldn’t I help Belle achieve hers?”
“You don’t have a dream? I don’t believe that. Everyone has a dream. Even if it’s a small one.”
A look passed over her face. A look of . . . longing? But it was gone before Jesse could be sure.
“Not me,” she said. “Dreams rely on too many variables. I like goals much better. When I set goals, I know exactly what I have to do to achieve them. I make a list of smaller goals to meet the bigger one.”
“And what smaller goals have you made to win the bet with me? Besides avoidance.”
She smiled evilly. “As if I’m going to tell you. Never share your secrets with your opponent.”
He tipped his head. “Are we opponents? Because it’s starting to feel like we’re friends.”
“Do you always seduce your friends?”
“I don’t have a lot of friends—males or females. I move around too much.”
“What about Corbin? I thought he was your friend.”
He realized he’d stepped right into that one. For a moment, he thought about telling her that Corbin was his half brother. But then he thought better of it. It would only make her distrust him more. For some reason, and not just winning the bet, he wanted her trust.
“He is, but he’s about it.”
She nodded. “I don’t have a lot of friends either. But my reason has more to do with being too busy.”
He hesitated. “Then maybe we should give friendship a try.” Where had that come from? Liberty looked as surprised as he felt.
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you no longer plan to seduce me?”
“Oh, no, I plan to seduce you. A bet is a bet. But I don’t know why we can’t be friends too.” He uncrossed his arms and straightened. “Now what can I screw up next, Madam Chef?”
Surprisingly, the dinner rolls didn’t turn out half bad once they were baked. They looked like some kind of blistered skin disease, but they tasted good. The rest of the meal was amazing. Jesse ate seconds of the roasted chicken and thirds of the roasted parsnips. He’d never had roasted parsnips, but he would from now on.
When dinner was over, he volunteered to clean up. At least that was something he was proficient at. Shirlene and Billy hadn’t made their kids cook, but they were firm believers in everyone helping to clean up. Mimi and Darla started to help, but he shooed them out of the kitchen. Liberty didn’t offer. As soon as he started clearing the table, she headed out the back door. He figured she wouldn’t make it easy for him to find her before he had to leave.
“You better watch yourself, boy.”
He turned to see Hank standing there giving him the evil eye. “Excuse me, sir?”
“My wife and mama seem to think you’re a good man who will turn out to be our savior. I think you’re a slick-talkin’ con artist who has set his sights on my daughter and is willing to play both sides of the fence to get what he wants.” Hank pointed a finger at him. “But I’ll tell you this. Taking the ranch is one thing—I can’t hold you or Corbin accountable when I’m the one responsible for getting my mama to sign that contract—but my baby girl is another matter. You hurt her and I promise I’ll do more than just show you the end of my shotgun.”
Jesse cleared his throat. “Understood, sir.”
Hank gave him a brief nod before he started helping him clear the table. Jesse wasn’t about to refuse his help. Thankfully, once the table was clear and the dishes in the sink, Hank headed into the living room.
After Jesse got the dishes washed and dried, he figured he’d have to hunt for Liberty. But as soon as he stepped out the back door, he saw her swinging on the rope swing that hung from a big oak tree. It was dark, but the light on the side of the barn illuminated her. With her bare feet pumping and her braids flying, she looked like a little girl.
He moved in front of her and when she sailed toward him, he reached out and tickled the bottoms of her feet. She released a giggle before she swung out of the light and into the darkness. When she came back, she was scowling.
“What are you doing?”
“My sister Adeline used to love for me to tickle her feet when I took her to the park to swing.” He reached for her feet again, but she drew them back.
“I don’t like to be tickled.”
“That giggle said otherwise.”
“It was a giggle of surprise.”
“Bullshit. Why do you shun all fun, Libby Lou?”
She brought her feet down to the ground and skidded to a stop. “You really are annoying.”
He moved closer, stopping in front of her. “And you really are uptight and need to lighten up. I love succeeding as much as you do, but it’s okay to take a break every now and then and just have fun.”
“I have fun.”
“Really? Name one time in the last week that you just had fun.”
“Swimming at Cooper Springs.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you saying you had fun with me at Cooper Springs, Liberty Holiday?”
She realized her mistake and quickly tried to backpedal. “I enjoyed swimming. It had nothing to do with you.”
He grinned. “Liar. You wouldn’t have liked it half as much if I hadn’t been there to challenge you.” He covered her hands on the rope with his and leaned closer, his lips inches from hers. “You like the thrill of competition. It’s not just fun. It gets your heart pumping.” He lowered his gaze to her mouth. “Is your heart pumping right now, Lib?”
Her lips parted and when he lifted his gaze, her eyes held the same desire that throbbed inside of him. He knew if he kissed her, she would answer every pull of his lips and every brush of his tongue. His body cried out for that . . . but his gut told him the path to Liberty’s bed had to be taken slow, not rushed.
He removed her hands from the ropes and pulled her to her feet. When she was standing, he took her place on the wooden seat and tugged her onto his lap before pushing off.
“What are you doing, Jesse Cates?” she hollered.
“You better stop wiggling or you’re going to slip right off my lap and bust your butt . . . or possibly your head.”
She stopped wiggling and looped her arms around his neck and held on tightly. He liked Liberty holding on to him much more than he should. “These ropes are old, you fool. With your added weight, we’re both likely to bust our heads.”
He looked down at her stunningly beautiful features and smiled as he pumped higher into the starry sky. “Then I guess we’ll fall together.”