KIDNAPPED COWBOY (14 page)

He returned the menu to its holder.  “Coffee’s fine.  I ate at the ranch.”

She tore the check for his coffee from her order pad and placed it on the counter next to his cup.  “Refills are free.”

“Thanks.”

She started to walk away, but Dalton’s words stopped her.  “Why are you doing this?”

She turned to him.  “Excuse me?”

He took a drink of his coffee then motioned around the diner.  “Working here.  You have a degree in psychology.  Why are you waiting tables?”

“Because few psychologist jobs would allow me time off in the summer to run the camp.  That’s more important to me than making lots of money.  Besides,” she said with a soft sigh, “I like this place, and Ethel’s been very good to me.”  Treating her like family, something Caitlin had never really had. 

Dalton listened to her explanation, more than a little impressed by the depth of Caitlin’s commitment to the retreat.  She had given up the financial security of a full-time job in her chosen profession to tend tables in a two-bit diner.  All for the sake of a handful of troubled kids who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. 

Setting down his cup, he said, “Speaking of Stoney Brook, I’m on my way out there after this.  The new windows I ordered for your cabin finally came in.”

“Windows?  But only one is broken.”

“Maybe so, but I did an inspection of the retreat, including each and every cabin.  The windows are old and not very well insulated.  I’m replacing them all.”

She gasped.  “All of them?  Dalton, no.  Your brother will have a fit at my spending so much money on repairs.”

“You’re not spending it.  I am.  So stop worrying.  I can handle my brother.”

“I didn’t realize you’ve been out to the retreat since...”

“Since you hauled me out there,” he finished for her with a grin.

She nodded.

“There’s a lotta work that needs done out there.  No since putting it off.”

“I thought... Well, when I didn’t hear from you, I was afraid that maybe you had changed your mind.”

“Not gonna happen.  I gave my word, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Guess you just needed a little reminding,” he said with a wink and then pushed his empty cup across the counter as he stood.  “I’d best get going.  I’ve got a lotta work ahead of me today.”

Her pretty mouth pulled into a pout.

“What’s wrong?”

“I work until five.”

He grinned.  “Don’t think I can handle things on my own?”

“No.  I mean, yes.  I’m sure you can.  I just feel like I should be there helping you.”

“Don’t worry.  There’s plenty work to be done.  You’ll have a chance to help out.”

Just not today, thank goodness.  She was too big of a distraction in that pale pink waitress outfit with its little white ruffled apron.  Made a man think of having her serve him something other than coffee.

Funny, but he’d grown up in Lone Tree, had eaten at this very diner all his life, with the exception of his years away riding the circuit, but he’d never once noticed just how sexy the waitress uniforms were there.  That is, until that moment.  Then again, Ethel in a short pink serviceable outfit looked a hell of a lot different than Caitlin did.

“I can’t help but feel bad that you are doing so much of the work.  Especially since it’s all my fault you got dragged into this.”

“Miss,” an elderly man called out from across the diner. 

“I’ll be right there,” Caitlin replied with a smile and then turned back to him, saying, “I’ve got work to do.”

He nodded.  “I’ll stop by your place this evening.  We’ll talk more then.”

She shook her head, sending that coppery ponytail of hers whipping about her shoulders.  “I’m not sure that would be a very good idea.”

“We have to go over all the repairs that need to be done before the retreat opens this summer.  That only gives us a couple of weeks.”

“Dalton, I just don’t know if your coming by my place is a very good idea.”

He shrugged.  “If you don’t trust me...”

“No,” she gasped.  “I do.  It’s just that my place is...a mess, and it’s small, and-”

“Sounds downright homey to me.  See you at seven.”

She groaned.  “And you call me stubborn.  All right, seven it is.”

He tossed a dollar bill onto the counter, slapped his hat back onto his head and walked to the door at the far end of the counter.  “Oh, and Caitlin...”

She looked his way.  “Yes?”

“Don’t eat.  Dinner’s on me.”

*              *              *

Caitlin swiped her brush through the errant curl again, one she’d been struggling with for the past ten minutes.  If only she hadn’t forgotten her curling iron at the cabin when she and Dalton left that day.  That was why she had taken to wearing it in a ponytail every day.  But tonight she’d wanted to wear it down.

“A horn,” she muttered with a groan as she plucked at the defiant strand.  “I have a devil’s horn.”  And it was no wonder, considering the thoughts she’d had at work all afternoon about Dalton.  Freud would have had a field day.

As a therapist she knew better, but couldn’t help feeling that Dalton would know exactly what she had been thinking if her hair stayed that way.

Turning on the faucet, she ran the brush under it and then attacked the horn again.  Much to her relief, it finally cooperated, turning downward instead.  She stepped back, staring at her reflection in the mirror.  She had changed out of her uniform and into a mint green, scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of stonewashed jeans.  Nothing fancy.  She preferred comfort over fashion. 

She pivoted to and fro with a frown.  Lower necklines were supposed to make a woman look sexier.  In her case, a Wonderbra meant men would wonder why she even bothered to wear a bra.  Being less than blessed in that area had never bothered her before, but it did now.

“You’re having a business dinner with Dalton,” she told herself.  “Not offering the man dessert.”

She gave her lashes a quick swipe of mascara and then added a dab of petal pink lip gloss to her lips before heading out to the living.  Digging through the canvas tote she kept all of her paperwork in, she pulled out the dog-eared tablet she used for keeping notes on supplies and repairs and flipped through it as she settled onto the sofa.

The roof on the cafeteria building was in dire need of repair.  It had been leaking something awful by the end of the previous summer.  She could only imagine what it would be like after a long, hard winter and spring. 

She skimmed over the list.  There were small expenditures she wished she could make, like purchasing new oars for the canoes and another picnic table for beside the lake.  But she wasn’t pushing her luck.  It had been hard enough to get Brandon Barnes to agree to keep the camp open, something she could never have done without Dalton’s help.

The doorbell chimed and her heart skittered wildly.  “Just a moment.”

Springing to her feet, she turned to straighten the throw pillows on the sofa, calling out, “I’ll be right there.” 

When she opened the door, Dalton was standing there, flashing that sexy grin that never failed to have her stomach doing flip-flops.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

She stood staring up at him, then words she’d only meant to think rushed out, “You smell good enough to eat.”

Husky laughter curled around her as he stepped inside.  “I think that’s the pizza you smell.”

“Pizza?”

Grinning, he held up the box.  “Hope you don’t mind.  I just figured most people like pizza, so it was a pretty safe bet.”

“N...no, I don’t mind at all.  I love pizza.”  She motioned him inside.  “I’ll grab some plates.  Come on back to the kitchen.”

He placed the cardboard box on the table and then unzipped his jacket.  “We’ll need glasses, too.”

She turned from the cupboard to see him pull a bottle of wine from beneath the open flap of his jacket.  Her eyes met his.  “Wine?”

“I hear red,” his gaze shifted to the bottle and then back to her, his grin widening, “or in this case, dark pink, goes well with Italian.”   

Smiling, she eyed the bottle.  “Can’t say that I’ve ever had wine and pizza before.”  Then again, she wasn’t much of a drinker or dater for that matter. 

“Beer and pizza is more my style.  But you don’t seem like the beer type, so I opted for wine.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”  Though she was touched by the gesture.  “Beer would’ve been fine.”

“It wasn’t a case of having to,” he told her.  “I wanted to.  Besides, this is a victory celebration dinner.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way, but why not?  “I couldn’t have gotten your brother’s attention without you and I know that.”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.  “I don’t know, Caitlin, I think your Big Bad Wolf strategy is what finally did the job.”

She gathered a handful of napkins and turned to him.  “My what?”

“Like in
The Three Little Pigs
.  Only instead of blowing Brandon’s house down, you just started tearing it down.”  He chuckled.  “Guaranteed to get a man’s attention.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks.  “That was an accident and you know it.”

Those incredible blue eyes looked down at her, a hint of humor lighting them.  “You know with most people I might wonder.  But, speaking from experience, I know things like that just seem to happen to you.”

He was right.  One of her greatest faults was acting on impulse and emotion rather than really thinking things out first.  It was probably good she hadn’t sought a full-time career as a therapist.

Blushing even deeper, she turned away and reached up to open the cupboard where she kept her glasses.   

Dalton reached past her into the cupboard.  “Here, let me get those.”

She stepped away.  “Thanks.  They’re not wine glasses, but they’re the closest thing I have to them.”

“We’ll use our imagination.”  He turned, handing them to her.  “You look great by the way.”

Her first instinct was to touch her hair and make sure the devil horn hadn’t returned, because her thoughts of Dalton certainly had.  “I do?”

His hand covered hers, then moved downward, catching a curl between his fingers.  “I like your hair this way.”

He liked her hair.  She felt all giddy inside.  How silly was that?  “Thanks.”

His hand fell away.  “You should wear it down more often.”

She fought the urge to grin as she spun around and reached for a couple of paper plates.

Taking them from her, Dalton grinned.  “Bringing out the good china, huh?”

She smiled.  “Well, I thought it only fitting seeing as how you brought the fancy wine.  Shall I unscrew it or would you prefer the honor?”

Dalton chuckled.  “I’ll do the honors.”

She knew this wasn’t a ‘real’ date, but Caitlin found herself wondering if dating was this much fun.  It had been so long she could scarcely remember.  Dating hadn’t exactly been one of her priorities.  The retreat was.

He filled the two juice glasses with wine and held one out to her.  “Here’s to Stoney Brook.” 

She raised her glass, clinking it against his in toast.  “To Stoney Brook.”  The wine was sweet, fruity.  “Mmm, not too bad.”

“Me or the wine?” he asked with a cock of his brow and a playful grin. 

She returned his grin.  “Both.” 

Dalton found himself floundering for words.  Him.  Mr. Smooth.  But he hadn’t expected her response.  Damned if Caitlin wasn’t flirting back and now he was struggling for a comeback.

Hell, he used to have all the lines.  ‘Wanna ride this bull?’ and ‘Care to bust this bronc?’ didn’t sound nearly as good as it had when he was younger.  Then it dawned on him that he was able to say anything he wanted to back then because those women never mattered.  And as if having a ton of bricks dumped onto his head, it hit him, Caitlin did.  What she thought about him mattered. 

He took another big swallow of wine as he contemplated this new emotional discovery he’d made.  The realization that what he felt for Caitlin was more than just sexual.

“Wanna take it to the sofa?” she asked.  “You’d have more room to move your legs.”

He nearly choked on the swallow of wine he’d just taken.  “W...what?”  

“Our dinner,” she replied.  “I thought you might prefer to eat in the living room while we discuss the retreat.  There’s not much leg room in here.”  She motioned around the small kitchen.  

Of course.  He resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead for the hormone raging assumption he’d just made.  “The sofa sounds good.”

“One or two?” Caitlin asked as she dished pizza slices out onto their plates.

“Two.”

She turned, handing his dinner to him.  “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

He waited for her to get hers and then, wine glass and paper plate in hand, he followed her out to the living room.

“So how’d things go today?” she asked as she bent to set the makeshift wineglass on the coffee table.

He forced himself to avert his gaze from the shapely backside aimed his direction.  Clearing his throat, he said, “I...um, managed to get several of the windows in today.”  

“Wow, you’re fast,” she exclaimed as she settled onto the couch.

He chuckled.  “That’s not always a good thing, but in this case I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Her blush was instantaneous, not to mention incredibly sexy.  “Dalton...”

“Yeah?”  He lowered himself onto the couch next to her.

She shifted, attempting to make room for him, but a collection of overstuffed throw pillows forced them to sit side by side, their legs touching.

He certainly wasn’t complaining.

“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this and being so nice about it.  Especially since you weren’t given much choice in the matter.”

“Darlin’, a man always has a choice.”  He could have walked away from Brandon’s attempt to strong arm him, but Caitlin needed him.  And damned if that didn’t feel good.

A smile eased across her face.  “Then it’s the choice you made that I’m grateful for.”

“As much as it pains me to say this,” he admitted, “my brother’s right.  It’s time that I shoulder my share of the family responsibility, something I should have done a long time ago instead of chasing after dreams.”