CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“LOOK, MADDIE, IT’S THEM.”
“Sorry, who?” Maddie asked, distracted. The Black Kettle Café opened for the day in—her eyes flew to the clock—thirty minutes.
She checked inventory. The glass-encased shelves were lined with an abundance of scones, in six different flavors. The scones were her idea. She felt her stomach knot with familiar anxiety. What if it was too early to put out so many? Should she have waited for the weekend concert crowds? What if she had spent all that money on something that wouldn’t sell? Wouldn’t it have been better to chip away at some of the overdue bills?
And then there was the ever-present voice of self-doubt. What kind of an idiot thought scones could save a business? And deeper yet, Was there any point in saving a business in a town that was probably going to die, despite her best efforts?
“Those awesomely attractive men I told you about. A perfect ten on the ooh-la-la scale. Both of them. Don’t you think that’s unusual? Two perfect tens together?”
Maddie bit her lip in exasperation. The weight of the whole world felt as if it was resting on her not-big-enough shoulders, and her young helper was rating every male she saw on an ooh-la-la scale? Sophie probably wouldn’t be nearly as excited about the awesome attractiveness of the visitors, if she knew Maddie was worried about how the café was going to pay her wages!
It was Sophie’s first day working the coffee shop in the remote town of Mountain Bend, Oregon. Sophie, just out of high school, was the summer help and she was easily distracted and resisted direction. She had not wanted to put on an apron this morning, because it “hid her outfit.”
Though technically Maddie was the café manager, there were several problems with reprimanding her. Sophie was the owner’s niece. And she and Maddie had grown up practically next door to each other in the small village. Maddie felt almost as if they were sisters—older and younger.
“What men?” Maddie asked reluctantly.
“I told you! I saw them last night. They’re driving the sports car. A Lambo in Mountain Bend. Can you believe it?”
Maddie had no idea what a Lambo was and, unless it was fueled by scones, she didn’t really care.
“They’re jaw-dropping,” Sophie decided dreamily. “I like the big one. He’s got a certain formidable look about him, doesn’t he? Like he might be a cop. He wasn’t driving, though. The other one was driving. They’re right outside the door. For heaven’s sake, quit scowling at me and look!”
Against her better judgment, Maddie followed Sophie’s gaze out the large, plate glass window. The quaint main street—and all her troubles—faded into nothing. Maddie was not aware of the loveliness of overflowing flower baskets, or that the stone-fronted buildings were, like the house she had inherited, showing signs of disrepair.
Maddie was aware, suddenly and intensely, of only him. Some energy, some power, shivered around him, and it dimmed even the extraordinary morning light that lit the lush green forest that carpeted the steep hills that embraced Mountain Bend.
The day’s menu was posted, and two men were studying it. It was true, the bigger of them was memorable—large, muscled, redheaded, with a thick beard that matched his hair. The man was definitely a throwback to some kind of Gaelic warrior.
But regardless of his obvious power, he was not the one who had made the entire world fade into nothingness for Maddie.
It was the man who was with him. A full head shorter than his companion—which still would have made him just a hair under six feet tall—the other man radiated power and presence, a kind of rare self-confidence that said this man owned the earth and he knew it.
Tall and well built, he was stunningly gorgeous. His thick, neatly trimmed hair was as rich and chocolaty as devil’s food cake. He had high cheekbones, a straight nose, a chin with a faint—and delicious—hint of a cleft in it. He glanced away from the menu, through the window and straight at Maddie.
Her thought was to duck, as if when he saw her, he would know there was something weak melting within her, like an ice-cream cone that had toppled onto hot pavement. But she found herself unable to move, in the grip of a dark enchantment. All her sensations intensified as his gaze met hers. His eyes were deep blue, ocean water shot through with sapphires. A hint of pure fire sparked in their endless depths.
She was shocked by the reappearance of a demon within her. But there it was: pure, undiluted, primal attraction to a gorgeous man. Good grief! How many times did a woman have to learn life’s most unpleasant lessons?
There was no one riding in to the rescue.
Though maybe this was the sad truth: in times of stress, there was no drug more potent than an extraordinarily attractive man, the fantasy that someone would come along and provide respite from the onerous challenges of daily life.
And since there was no arguing the stressfulness of these times—Past Due notices stacking up like a deck of cards in the café office—Maddie indulged the feeling of unexpected magic whispering into her life.
Her eyes dropped to the full, sinfully sensual curl of a firm bottom lip, and she felt the most delightful shiver of, well, longing. To be transported to the place that a kiss from lips like those could take you.
That was not real. A place of weakness, she reminded herself, annoyed by her lapse. Fairy tales did not exist. She had found that out the hard way. Maddie gave herself a determined mental shake. It was the strain of her life that was making this small diversion seem so all encompassing.
If this was a test, she was as ready for it now as she would ever be.
“Go let them in,” she said to Sophie.
Sophie gave her a startled look—they never opened early—and then dashed for the door, divesting herself of that hated apron on the way, and pulling the ribbon from her hair. Sophie’s romantic schoolgirl notions could be forgiven—she was just a schoolgirl—but Maddie was twenty-four.
She had lost both her parents. She had lived and worked in New York City. She had suffered a heartbreaking betrayal from a man she had thought she would marry. She had come home to find the café and her town struggling. Really, all these events—the awareness that life could turn bad on a hair—should be more than enough to make her jaundiced forever.
Despite being jaundiced forever, Maddie found her hand going to her hair, light brown