Loving Bailey (21 page)

She pulled into the gravel lot at Seasons
kicking up a barrage of stones. Bailey couldn’t wait until she had
the money to pave the lot, but unless something happened with the
lake, that was unlikely to be anytime soon. She opened the door and
barely made it out of her car when she heard tires crunch on the
gravel behind her. Turning, she saw Spencer pull in, a huge
welcoming grin on his face.

“You’re back,” he said through the open
window. “Haven’t seen you for days. The farmer finally let you come
up for air?”

Bailey felt her cheeks flush. She should be
offended by Spencer’s crack. With anyone else she probably would
be, but something about his cocky grin made it impossible to take
him seriously or to misinterpret his playful intentions.

“Shut up,” she said, matching his grin with
her own. She leaned into his open window. “How do you know it
wasn’t me pinning him down?”

His eyes flashed and she felt a little jolt
at her brazenness. It was a feeling she could get used to.

“Damn, Bailey. You know how to hurt a guy,”
he said, swallowing hard. “I was headed down the mountain to
scrounge up some lunch. Want to join me?”

“Can’t. I just got home,” she said. And then
without thinking, she added, “Come on in. I’ll fix us both
lunch.”

His answering smile burned away any
hesitation she felt.

“Really? Great,” he said, climbing out of the
car. “You can tell me about sex with the farmer and lost
opportunities and I’ll tell you what I found out about Christopher
Gist.”

“Not in this lifetime.” She held the
restaurant door open for him and the familiar scent of meals past
and lemon cleaner hit her with an overwhelming sense of coming
home. Despite all the worry and stress, and as much as her parents
house – maybe more because she’d built it – Seasons was home to
her.

“Have a seat,” she said motioning to the bar.
“I’ll find us something to eat.”

“What do you want to drink?” Spencer skirted
around the bar and filled two glasses with ice.

“Club soda,” she said, watching him warily as
he eyed the end of the soda gun. “It’s the Q. Don’t hurt
yourself.”

“Ye of little faith. I worked my way through
college tending bar. I think I can handle a couple of sodas.”

Bailey pushed open the swinging door to her
kitchen, laughing when she heard the whoosh of the soda gun and
Spencer cursing under his breath.

The kitchen was as clean as she would have
left it herself if she’d closed, and for about the hundredth time
she wished she could give Sam a raise. He worked so hard and she
wanted to reward him. But she could barely make payroll as it was.
She’d sunk all of her grandmother’s inheritance into renovations
and the down payment on the building. She’d managed to meet the
mortgage every month, but her savings were gone. If things didn’t
pick up soon, she’d have to look into an SBA loan to help smooth
out her cash flow issues. Another month and traffic would pick up
at the lodge even if the lake didn’t refill. She’d just pray she
could hold on until then.

She grabbed one of the neatly wrapped and
dated packages of flank steak from the walk-in, cringing a little
at how many were left over from Sunday’s special. She split and
toasted a handful of Jen’s dinner rolls and topped them with the
sliced steak and a piece of pepper jack cheese. She carried the
mini sandwiches and a bowl of coleslaw she found in the reach-in
out to the dining room in time to see Spencer mopping up the bar
with a white terrycloth towel.

She raised an eyebrow at him before she set
lunch on the newly cleaned bar top. “Do I want to know?”

“It could have happened to anybody.”

“Um hmm,” she said, taking in the dark
splatters down the front of his pale blue chambray shirt. She sat
on the stool next to him and reached over the bar to snag
silverware and napkins. “I forgot plates.” She started to rise, but
his hand on her arm stopped her.

“I don’t need one. We can share,” he said
digging a fork into the bowl of coleslaw and taking a huge bite. He
ate like her brothers. What was it with men that let them put away
so much food and still look so damn good in their jeans? If she ate
like that she’d be round as a berry.

“So tell me about your research. What did you
find out about Gist?” she asked, before taking a bite of her
sandwich.

“That man went everywhere. He spent time at
Pipestem. I thought I might head there next. I’m going back to
Virginia Tech this afternoon to do some digging around in the
history department.”

“I thought you found the journal at the Giles
County Courthouse. Why not head back there to look?” she asked,
pulling the bowl with the last of the coleslaw out of his
reach.

“Prettier co-eds at Tech,” he said. “If you
have your heart set on the farmer, that is. If there’s any wiggle
room at all, I’ll put off the co-eds to be your second. I’m sure
there are still lots of things you haven’t had time to try. I would
love to help you out.”

She stopped for a moment, checking her
feelings. A week ago, Spencer’s teasing would have had her pulse
racing and her heart hammering out of her chest. This week it felt
like playful flirting. She didn’t doubt he’d get serious if she
decided to take him up on his offer, but she didn’t feel any
pressure from him at all and the heat she’d felt at his cottage had
dissolved into friendly banter. It was nice that what could have
been awkward turned friendly instead.

It also made it clear how totally gone she
was on Trace. Just thinking about him made her stomach flip and her
heart pound in anticipation. She glanced at the clock behind the
bar. Trace should be finishing up at the market in about an hour.
She could drive down the mountain and be there in time to meet him
when he got done.

“Hey, come back. “ Spencer waved a hand in
front of her face. “I was just kidding. Unless you were thinking
about it. In that case I’m all in.”

“In your dreams,” Bailey said with a
laugh.

“Does that sway your opinion at all? Because
I can tell you, there’ve been many many dreams.”

“Shut up.” She swatted his arm and reached
for the only sandwich he hadn’t already inhaled.

“That’s what I thought.” He put his hand over
his heart and pretended to look pained. “The farmer gets all the
breaks. A job which would make Thoreau weep and the most beautiful
girl in the world. You must have him eating out of the palm of your
hand. It’s a miracle he can make it down the mountain every
morning.”

There it was again. Why did everyone assume
they stayed at her place and why should it matter that they didn’t.
He got up earlier than she did. That’s all. But it wasn’t quite.
With a few brief exceptions for family things she couldn’t get out
of, Bailey had spent every night at Mountain Lake since she signed
the papers to buy Seasons.

She started sleeping with Trace and suddenly
she hadn’t set foot in her restaurant for days. She hadn’t even
made the trip up the mountain to make sure Jen and Sam closed up
alright. They had, but she hadn’t checked. She always checked
everything. It kept little problems from turning into big ones. She
couldn’t afford a big problem. And she couldn’t keep leaning on her
staff – not if she couldn’t afford to pay them what they were
worth.

Her sandwich sat uneasily on her stomach and
she fought the urge to jump up and start organizing the reach-in.
Not because there was anything out of place, just because she
needed to have her hands on everything. It was how she’d built her
business.

“He does worship you, right?” asked Spencer,
shaking her out of her thoughts. “He’s not my favorite, but he
didn’t seem like the kind of guy to take a good thing for
granted.”

“Why don’t you like him?” she asked, skipping
his question.

“Jealousy mostly.”

Bailey laughed. Spencer didn’t hold anything
back. There was no guessing with him, no wondering how he felt.

“Is that all?”

“Pretty much,” he said. The serious tone
edging his voice had Bailey turning to face him. “And I don’t
dislike him, but I do like you. You’re spectacular.”

The compliment made her face heat. “You’re
not still lobbying, are you? Because it’s not going to happen.”

“No, but it bugs me that he had all that time
to decide he wanted you and he didn’t get off his ass until I
showed up. A woman like you deserves someone who’s all in. Someone
willing to do anything for the chance to love you.”

His words struck at the heart of her
insecurities. That wasn’t what happened with Trace, was it? He’d
explained why he waited. It had made sense when he said it. Mostly.
Bailey loved with her whole heart. It was still hard for her to
understand hesitating to avoid being hurt. Hell, it took everything
she had to keep from telling Trace she loved him the first time
they made love. Because she did and Bailey Southerland didn’t hide
from her feelings.

“And,” Spencer said, poking her in the ribs.
“You shouldn’t close the door on me so quickly. I’m not anyone’s
happily ever after, but I’m good for more than a few screaming
orgasms.”

Bailey coughed on a lungful of club soda.
“Sorry,” she said when she caught her breath. “You had your
chance.”

“Don’t remind me. Now, I’m off to find a
pretty co-ed to help me drown my sorrows and finish my research.
Thanks for lunch.” He planted a chaste kiss on the top of her head
and Bailey stood to see him to the door.

She turned in time to see Trace standing
outside, his hand on the door handle, wearing an expression which
hid whatever he was thinking.

Trace was in a foul mood. He’d tossed and
turned, barely sleeping at all. The fact he hadn’t slept was
exacerbated by his frustration with himself for needing Bailey in
his bed. In a few days they’d slid from
God I want you
right
into
can’t live without you
.

He felt needy and out of control and he hated
those feelings. He’d built his world on slow and steady. Season
following season in an endless pattern. Erratic and crazy didn’t
suit him or his plans.

He’d been so moody with the customers, Jake
sent him away before the market closed. Trace had driven as fast as
his ancient truck would go up the mountain to Bailey, each mile
closer to her easing the ache in his chest. That is until he pulled
into the parking lot and saw her having lunch with the fucking
writer.

He was not a Neanderthal. Bailey was allowed
to have friends. He trusted her – more than anyone. She wouldn’t
lie or cheat or do anything inappropriate. He knew that with every
fiber of his being. Hell the writer was already getting up to leave
before they even saw him standing there. Bailey wouldn’t cheat.

But what if this didn’t mean as much to her
as it did to him. It was so new. They hadn’t talked about what any
of it meant. He assumed it was just going to be the two of them,
that they wouldn’t see anyone else. That Bailey knew how he felt.
What if he was wrong?

He watched her standing next to the writer.
She looked pretty, flushed and fresh. Like she’d gotten a good
night’s sleep.

Trace schooled his face so he wouldn’t look
like a jealous asshole and opened the door, intending to put
himself between the woman he loved and the writer who wanted
her.

When Bailey saw him, her face lit with what
looked like pure pleasure but as he watched she shuttered her
expression. It was wrong. His Bailey was open and honest. She
didn’t hide what she felt. That was his deal not hers.

He stepped toward her, reaching for her so he
could kiss the look of pleasure back onto her face.

“I’ll just be going then, shall I.” He heard
the writer mutter and the door close, but he never took his gaze
from Bailey’s face. As soon as he was close enough to touch her, he
pulled her into him, fitting her body against his and for the first
time since she’d left he could draw a deep breath.

“My God, I missed you,” he said with a sigh
and felt her lips curl in a smile against his chest. “It was only
one night.”
Say you missed me, too. Tell me you love me so I
know it’s safe to give you everything. It’s yours already.

“It was a very long night,” she said.

“Is there anything else you have to do
today?”

“I was going to clean the walk-in.”

“Not today.” He’d waited long enough and he
was done being reasonable. Caveman it was.

He let go of her long enough to flip the lock
on the front door and then he bent, pressing his shoulder into her
midsection and hoisting her over his shoulder.

“Campbell! Put me down!” Bailey squealed and
Trace ignored her, palming her ass and distracting himself with the
feel of her smooth, round flesh under his hand.

When he slid his fingers between her legs and
stroked, her squirming changed from trying to get away to trying to
get closer. He planned to get a lot closer. He pushed through the
kitchen door and made his way to the stairway to Bailey’s
apartment. He was going to take her to bed, strip her naked and
make love to her until she forgot the writer existed and there was
no doubt she belonged to him. That they belonged to each other.

He took the steps two at a time, not stopping
until he reached the door to her bedroom. He set her down at the
door, letting her body slide down his. Before her feet hit the
ground he claimed her mouth with his, fisting his hand in her hair
and forcing her head back to give him better access to her sweet
lips.

She opened for him and he took everything
he’d been missing. Tasting, teasing and anchoring himself to her
with his lips and hands. He stroked her tongue with his and caught
her answering sigh with his mouth. When he pulled back, desperate
to uncover more of her skin to his hands and mouth, she looked at
him with eyes gone glassy with desire.