Cutter Mountain Rendezvous (30 page)

Blake leaned against the counter. “The band goes on tour in a few days.”

“That should be fun.” If this was a pre-warning he hoped to make it to her bed before the tour, the thought about sickened her. They had hardly made it beyond hand holding and casual kisses. As if reading her mind, he trapped her against the counter and kissed her. She stiffened.

She broke free and stepped out of the embrace. He didn’t stop her, but looked confused and hung his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

“Thanks for a great evening,” she said, quickly. “It was such fun tonight.”

“You want to try that again?” He looked at her lips.

Oh, gawd!
She didn’t have to tilt her chin up to look into Blake’s stunning blue eyes that most likely melted most girls on the spot. What was wrong with her? “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I’m always saying I’m sorry. You’re a great guy, Blake, but I wonder if we could take this slower.”

He gave her an assessing look. “Sure. See you in the studio tomorrow?”

“Uh, no. I’ve a school function for Lindsay.”

“I’ll head out then. Good night.” He leaned in and gave her another kiss that was more a show he didn’t intend to give up than conquer her that minute. She found herself wishing the band left on tour tomorrow instead of a few days. This was getting too complicated.

Glad to be alone in her cottage, she checked on Lindsay sleeping sound and kissed her tousled head with a heck of lot more emotion that she’d just kissed Blake. That night she lay in bed thinking time would help her over her locked-up-tight emotions.

Pieces to her once-shattered life were falling into place little by little. Did she really need a relationship to feel whole? The new influx of income was allowing her to write as a career. She and Trace had collaborated on two new songs, and she wrote an upbeat song with catchy lyrics for an up-and-coming female artist signed to Seneca Records.

This was the life she envisioned when she first hit Nashville over ten years ago. Never did she think the journey would be sidetracked by her disastrous marriage. Even her attempt to re-establish Lindsay in the place where she’d been raised resulted in unfathomable loss. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Over and over you drift across my mind,

Gentle as a breeze, a moment out of time.

She buried her head in her pillow and growled. Must her own song haunt her?

****

Two days later, Kate wandered into Trace’s studio to retrieve a notebook left there and found Blake packing equipment. They greeted but it was tense. She avoided eye contact. Their kiss in her kitchen two nights ago had set off memories and fantasies of Colton. Not that he was ever far from her mind.

Reality check, she told herself. She had gone back to Nashville, and he stayed in Chicago. The few phone messages left since she and Lindsay attended the ballgame were too little too late. “Have you seen my notebook? It’s purple,” she asked, turning over a stack of newspapers.

“On top the amp next to the keyboard. Something bothering you?”

She retrieved it and held it up. “Thanks. I’ll get out of your hair. You look busy, and I’ve a million things to get done.”

“What’s the rush? I thought Lindsay was visiting your folks this weekend.”

“Laundry.” She grinned with a shrug. “I need to catch up on laundry.”

“That’s lame.” He folded his arms across his chest. “How about we head out to the Cubby Hole tonight and see that new bluegrass band?”

His guarded look and wide-legged stance suggested he was ready for her rejection. She couldn’t figure out why he continued to pursue her. “I’m not sure.”

“What aren’t you sure about?”

This was a test. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He was taking control of the situation, and she had the power to move their relationship one step closer to the bedroom or out the door. Which did she want? The risk taker in her made a fast decision. This was about getting over Colton, and dammit, if going to bed with Blake was what it took, so be it. “Sure. That would be fun.”

“Cool.” Blake grinned. No adorable dimple like Colton, she noted. But he definitely had white, straight teeth. “Eight too early?”

“No. I’ll have the laundry done by then.”

Without Lindsay to bring life to their small place, Kate puttered from one small project to the next never finishing anything she touched. Clothes sat in a pile in front of the washing machine. The vacuum stood upright in her bedroom. The bathroom was clean but needed towels. She dusted the living room, fighting the edge of panic the thought of another date with Blake brought. She didn’t want to hurt him or ruin their professional relationship. Like Trace said, he was a nice guy. She also didn’t want to go to bed with him. Tonight would be a pivotal moment. They would take their relationship to the next level or it would end.

Three months had passed since making love to Colton yet every kiss and touch burned her memory like a flame.
Flame.
She visualized her home engulfed in fire and shivered. Three insane months packed with nonstop activity kept these thoughts at bay.

Now life moved at a slower pace. Memories and flashbacks overrode the urgent needs of surviving after the fire and the pinnacle of writing another hit.

Colton. Fire. Colton. Fire.

Each burned her memory with equal pain.

She sat on the couch and dropped her head into her hands. The odd scene of lunch with Colton’s family came to mind. She had slipped into the role of a cordial mother to protect her heart. Chaperone for her daughter to attend the ballgame that a famous pitcher promised in a busy corridor of LAX. She saw Colton’s scowl whenever their eyes met. His repeated question of who she was dating when he could slip in an unnoticed comment set her teeth on edge.

Why did he care? Other than suggesting they try an on-again, off-again relationship of convenience—his convenience. He was no different than Trace with his easy money and easy women.

The pattern of her relationships disturbed her as she sank into the back cushions on the couch and closed her eyes. Hard work and long hours went into earning outrageous amounts of money. Money she had the potential to earn.

Perhaps it was wrong to judge Colton by his bank account or Trey’s view of status.

Money might be power to Trey, but Colton was different. Bessie held a higher place in how he viewed himself, which made Kate love him all the more. Then there was his generous, giving nature that she saw firsthand and thought ego-driven. Blake was closer to Colton than Trey, but she still didn’t know him well enough to make a judgment.

She blew out a loud breath. Well, all those thoughts aside, she had a date with Blake tonight.

Since Trace’s band left on tour tomorrow she decided to go and enjoy herself. Blake would be gone for a couple of months. If she could hold him off from her bed, the pressure to take their relationship up another notch would be delayed. The invite seemed more appealing as she worked out the details. She might even drink a few beers. Then his kiss might hold more appeal.

Tired of thinking about it all, she got up to put in another tub of laundry.

The phone rang.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kate rushed to the kitchen to answer the ringing phone. “Hello.”

“Kate, its Colton.”

Her brain did a stutter-step. “Oh. I’m in shock.”

“Why’s that?”

Because I was thinking about you
.
Wanting you. Deciding to have a good time with Blake.

“Forget it. I wasn’t prepared to hear your voice. Lindsay’s in Bear Creek this weekend with my folks, if that’s why you’re calling.”

“I saw her this morning. I’m sitting on a bench outside of Beulah’s.”

“What the heck you doing in Bear Creek?”

“Isn’t this where I come to recover? Actually, I came to see my mom. She’s half moved to Bear Creek and has a permanent room at Rose’s Bed-’n-Breakfast.”

“Did you know Judge Lowell’s sister owns Rose’s?”

“Yeah. I’ve figured out the attraction here. That’s why I came to check it out. How come you’ve not returned my calls?”

“I’ve been busy. How’d the surgery go?”

“Good. Listen, I thought I’d drive up to Nashville and take you out to dinner. Sign that baseball.”

“Sorry. I have a date tonight.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Colton. Hello. Colton?”

She slammed the receiver with a vengeance and grabbed a cinnamon disk from a candy dish. The flutter of anticipation circling her midsection at hearing Colton’s voice didn’t bode well for her decision to try harder with Blake. Leave it to the cowboy to show up two minutes after she’d made the decision that should Blake want to go to bed, she’d do her best. After several beers, she reminded herself.

With four hours before Blake showed up for their date, and several hours before Colton could drive from Bear Creek to Nashville and barge through the door, she propped her feet on the coffee table. She jumped at the loud pounding on her front door. “Delivery.”

“Go to the main house,” she hollered. Persistent knocking made her get off the couch with a complaint. “I’m coming.”

She held back the curtain to peer out at the door stoop. Delivery men parked near the main house and had to walk back to her place. Except she hadn’t ordered anything, and whoever stood on her stoop was out of view. She cracked the door. “I didn’t order any...” Her words fell away when Colton moved into view, eyeing the unusual door she clung to for support.

“Looks like a Keebler elf lives here, but I don’t smell cookies baking.” He stepped over the threshold to push past her.

“The guest cottage is supposed to have the feel of wooded seclusion.” She closed the rustic door with a rounded top, black hammered hinges and door handle. “You’re three hours early.”

He made her throat go dry with a simmering gaze. “Who’s your date?”

“Nice to see you too. Have you done away with the niceties of civilized conversation these days? Or are you still on meds?”

“Off meds and thinking clear. Anyone I know?”

“None of your damned business. You were obviously in town when you called.”

“You take up swearing now that your ego’s puffed up with another hit?”

“I learned from the best.”

“Trace your date?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. We’re related. Sorta.”

“Someone in the band?”

“What difference does it make?”

“How many times you been out?”

“Who are you—my father? Must you always show up unannounced? I have a life you know.”

Colton captured her around the waist to pull her tight against his hard chest. Her breath hitched. Right before he gave her a tender kiss. “Kiss back, Kate. I know you’re only acting mad.”

“I’ve a million questions.”

“Later.”

She turned her head to the side, and he feathered kisses along her neck, sending a shiver of desire over her. This was what was missing in Blake’s kiss. Desire she felt clear to her very core. “Please, Colton. I’ve a date,” she whispered breathless. “I’d hit you but I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.”

“I appreciate that.”

His hands captured her face. The dimple creased with a lopsided grin right before he kissed her again and flicked the tip of his tongue across the firm crease of her lips. She groaned and kissed him back, angry she had no resistance.

“Was that so hard?” he whispered and slid his hands over her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Yes. It was,” she said and swayed.

He steadied her by bracketing his hands at her hips. Their lips came together. Warm heat flowed over her as he filled her with the taste of him and the cinnamon disc she had been eating mingled in their mouths.

Her phone rang.

Colton grunted when she slipped from his grasp. “Don’t answer it.”

“It might be my date.” She raised an eyebrow as she made a blind grab for the receiver. “Hello. Oh, hi.” Her gaze darted to Colton who was making himself comfortable on her couch. She swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “No, no. I was outside and had to run for the phone.”

Colton gestured his lips were sealed. The imaginary key was pitched into the air. She cupped the receiver, stretching the phone cord as far into the kitchen as possible. “No, I can’t. A girlfriend dropped by. We’re going to eat a bite here at the house. Sure. Can’t wait. See you soon.”

“You have a wig?” Colton asked when she hung up.

“A what?”

“Wig. Didn’t you tell your date I was a girlfriend? I’ll need a wig if I’m going to tag along on your date.”

“You are
not
coming on my date.”

“Just saying. You never know...and I love bluegrass.”

“How do you know that?” She put her hands on her hips.

“I’m thinking Blake Gerard’s your date because I just talked to him in the driveway. Guess you’re busted. Blake knows I’m no girlfriend. It’s probably why he called.”