Loving Bailey (23 page)

He gave Bailey a wink and she shook her head
to clear it. It wasn’t any of her business who he dated. She was
with Trace. And even if it looked like he’d never get around to
telling her how he felt, that didn’t change the way she felt. She
loved him.

Which meant she couldn’t care about who
Spencer dated.

“Hey Bailey, nice to see you in the front of
the house,” said Spencer and he smiled like he meant it. “I’d like
to introduce you to Crystal. She’s a history major at Tech. She’s
been helping me with my research and I promised her an amazing
dinner in exchange for all her hard work.”

The pretty blonde took Bailey’s hand,
practically laying her large breasts straining against their
spaghetti strap top on the bar. Bailey had a pretty good idea what
kind of hard work she’d be doing later.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, letting go
of Bailey’s hand to rest her pink polished fingernails on Spencer’s
arm.

Bailey fought the urge to stare at her own
short, practical, plain nails.

“Can I get a glass of red wine?” she asked,
keeping her gaze on Spencer as those pink fingernails trailed over
the tanned skin of his forearm.

Beside her Spencer grinned like a man who’d
just heard the ice cream truck. Crystal sure as hell wasn’t a
virgin. He had no reason not to take advantage of everything she
was obviously offering. Well, except for her age but with the way
he was looking at the pretty co-ed or at least at her breasts, it
didn’t look like he had a problem with her age.

But Bailey did. She thought about carding
her, but she couldn’t figure out how to do it without seeming
catty. She and Spencer were still navigating this friendship thing.
The last thing she wanted was to come across as a jealous bitch.
Surely the girl was at least twenty-one. Besides, it’s not like
Seasons was the kind of place the college kids came to get
shitfaced, she thought as she poured the girl a glass of
Shiraz.

“For me, too, please,” Spencer said without
guile.

Nothing in his words or mannerisms made it
seem like he was teasing Bailey or trying to make her jealous with
the buxom co-ed. He was too straightforward for that. Bailey told
him she was with Trace and he’d moved on. No deeper explanation
required.

Bailey set a glass in front of him and poured
the Shiraz. “Are you having dinner with us tonight?”

“God yes,” said Spencer and she couldn’t help
but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Would you like a table? I can get Maggie to
take care of you.”

For the first time, Spencer looked a little
uncomfortable. “That’s okay. I think we’ll eat at the bar if it’s
alright.”

He turned to look at Crystal but she had her
face buried in her wine glass and seemed oblivious to their
conversation. Bailey made a mental note to keep an eye on the young
woman. At the rate she was going through the Shiraz, it wouldn’t
take long before she’d had too much to drink. She wondered if
Spencer’s compulsion against sleeping with drunk women applied to
big breasted co-eds or if it was something he saved for twenty-five
year old virgins.

She shook her head, hating her reaction and
grabbed a pair of menus. “I have a beautiful grass fed rose veal
cutlet with new potatoes and sugar peas on special tonight. The
soup is fresh pea with dill served cold with crème fraiche and the
appetizer is prosciutto wrapped asparagus. Let me drop off a
birthday cupcake and I’ll be back to take your orders.” She picked
up the birthday candles and left, hearing Crystal behind her
whining about not eating baby cows.

Deputy Simmons had been so grateful when
Bailey hand delivered the cupcake to his mother, he’d practically
gushed. When she’d first moved to Mountain Lake, he’d stopped in
regularly to “keep an eye on things.” The way he’d flirted with
her, Bailey had been pretty sure his visits had more to do with
keeping an eye on her than public safety, but she hadn’t encouraged
him and he’d moved on to one of the pretty front desk clerks at the
lodge.

Mrs. Simmons was a harder nut to crack. She
took one look at the cupcake and turned up her nose, saying her
figure couldn’t afford the extra calories. Bailey looked at the
bird thin woman and bit her tongue to keep from commenting. Who in
their right mind turned down a homemade cupcake?

“Why don’t I put it in a box for you in case
you change your mind,” she said, plastering a smile on her
face.

The older woman made a very unladylike noise
but her son nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Bailey. That’d be real
nice. Wouldn’t that be nice, Momma?” When his mother still didn’t
answer, the deputy rose. “I’ll just follow you and settle up,” he
said.

“Oh, okay, if you’d like,” said Bailey,
looking around for their server.

Maggie must have overheard the conversation,
because she excused herself from the table she was taking care of,
pulled a ticket out of her black folio and handed it to Bailey with
a smile for the deputy.

Bailey took the ticket to the register at the
bar and set the cupcake down so she could ring in the bill.

“Crystal Masters,” he said, his voice stern
and commanding so unlike the soft tone he’d used on his mother and
Bailey. “What are you doing?”

The young woman shook her blonde hair and
glanced up, the smile dying on her lips when she saw the
deputy.

“Well fuck,” she said.

“I’m afraid you’re under arrest,” he
said.

“What? Why?” said Spencer, jumping to his
feet.

“Underage drinking. I arrested Ms. Masters
last weekend for public drunkenness and underage drinking.
Apparently she didn’t learn her lesson.” He turned his attention to
Bailey and her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “Ms.
Southerland,” he said, the formal address making everything more
real. “Who served Ms. Masters?”

Oh God. Bailey’s mouth went dry. She could
lose her liquor license over this. The Virginia ABC board would at
least suspend it temporarily. And God, then there were the fines.
One for her personally and one for her as the license holder. Her
heart slammed in her chest and she couldn’t catch her breath.
Alcohol sales made up a significant chunk of her business and an
even larger piece of her profit margin. Losing that on top of
thousands of dollars in fines, Seasons couldn’t absorb it. She was
going to lose everything.

“I did,” she said before her vision dimmed
and she slumped to the floor.

Nothing had worked the way Trace needed it to
since he’d made the decision to change his life that morning. Jake
called in, saying he was sick with an illness Trace suspected had
more to do with his girlfriend or soon to be ex-girlfriend than a
virus. It wasn’t a big deal. Jake rarely left him hanging, but it
meant Trace had to stay and supervise the interns himself instead
of taking the afternoon to shop for a ring the way he’d
planned.

And by the time they’d finished putting the
new beds in and he had a chance to call Bailey’s father, the time
difference meant it was the middle of the night in Germany. He’d
tried to convince himself there was no real hurry, but damn it, now
that he’d decide to jump, he wanted to get on with things. He
wanted to convince Bailey to take a chance on him and marry him and
he wanted to do it now.

To top things off, when he’d climbed into his
truck to make the drive up the mountain to Bailey, the truck made
one feeble attempt at starting and promptly died. It wasn’t exactly
unexpected. The truck was ancient, but it couldn’t have happened at
a worse time. With Jake home sick, he couldn’t borrow his truck and
none of the interns had cars. He was stuck at the bottom of the
mountain with Bailey at the top.

He hated making her drive down the mountain
by herself at night, but he hated the idea of sleeping without her
even more. He’d ask and if she sounded tired or like it was too
much he’d tell her to stay put and he ‘d see her tomorrow. It
wasn’t worth risking her safety, but if he couldn’t propose, he at
least wanted to tell her he loved her. And he wanted to do it in
person.

Bailey’s cell phone went right to voicemail
and when he tried Seasons the phone rang so many times he almost
hung up. He was berating himself for bothering her during dinner
service when a man answered the phone.

“This is Seasons. Can I help you?” said the
familiar voice.

“Spencer, what are you doing answering
Bailey’s phone.” God he hated that guy and he hated the idea of him
worming his way into Seasons and spending time with the woman he
loved while Trace was stuck at home.

“Trace? You better get up here. Bailey needs
you.”

“What’s wrong? Is she hurt?” he asked, his
blood running like ice in his veins.

“She’s not hurt. I better let her explain.
Just come, okay? I’m not the one she needs right now.”

“Jesus, Spencer what’s going on? I was
calling to tell her my truck died. I don’t have any way to get to
her.” He shoved his hand through his hair feeling completely
helpless.

“I’ll bring her to you. My date’s tied up for
the night,” he said with a snort. “And it’s the least I can
do.”

“What the fuck, Spencer?”

“Just wait. We’ll be there as soon as we
can.”

The writer hung up the phone leaving Trace
pacing his kitchen with absolutely no idea of what was going
on.

The half hour Trace spent waiting for Spencer
to bring Bailey down the mountain to his farm was the longest of
his life. When he finally heard the tires on gravel he was ready to
come out of his skin. He bolted out the kitchen door and was at the
passenger’s side of the car before Spencer put it in park. Bailey
sat staring into space with tracks from her tears running down her
cheeks.

If Spencer hurt her, he was going to kill the
bastard and if it wasn’t him, he’d find out who it was and murder
them. But first he had to figure out what was wrong and fix it.

When he pulled the door handle Bailey turned
to face him and his heart broke for her. She wore almost the same
haunted look she had when she found out about Travis. Oh God, what
if something had gone wrong with her brother’s recovery.

“Bailey, honey, what is it?” he asked,
pulling her from the car and into his arms. He held her tight
against his chest, willing her to take his strength into her body.
“Did something happen with Travis?”

He felt her shake her head, but when she
still didn’t speak he looked over the top of the car to
Spencer.

“Look, I had no idea. You have to know, I’d
never do anything to hurt her and I’ll pay for everything. As soon
as I can. No matter how long it takes.”

Trace lunged toward the car, catching himself
at the last minute because Bailey was in his arms. He still didn’t
know what the fucking writer had done but he knew the look in
Bailey’s eyes was his fault. The only thing that kept him from
pounding the other man into the gravel was the woman he was
holding. She was more important than anything. He’d take care of
her and then he’d take care of the writer.

“It’s not his fault,” Bailey said, her words
muffled against his shirt. “I did it to myself. I knew better, but
I did it anyway.”

“Did what?” Trace lifted her chin so he could
look in her eyes – eyes which were haunted and in such pain. Yep,
the writer was going to die. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me what
happened.”

“I served alcohol to a minor.”

Her answer didn’t fit any of the scenarios
he’d run through his head while he waited. It took him a minute to
process what she’d said.

“Who?” Bailey was too careful to make a
mistake like that and Seasons was far too upscale to draw college
kids looking for booze.

“My date,” said Spencer. “I didn’t know. I
swear. I’m old enough to be her father.” He shuddered and Trace
glared. “Listen, I’m going to get out of here. She doesn’t need to
deal with me any more tonight. She needs you. But I will do
whatever I can to fix this.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He climbed back
into the car and Trace steered Bailey out of the way so Spencer had
room to back out.

“Come on, baby,” he said, coaxing her
forward. “Let’s go inside and we can figure out what to do.”

He led her toward the door and when she
stumbled in her Crocs on the gravel, he scooped her into his arms
and carried her the rest of the way. He set her down on the sofa
and knelt in front of her so he could look into her eyes.

“Listen, I know this is bad.” He had no idea
what the penalty was for serving a minor, but he’d known how
difficult and expensive it was for Bailey to get her liquor
license. And the VABC board wasn’t known for leniency when it came
to minors. “But, baby, we can deal with it. We’ll figure it out.
Who reported you?”

“Deputy Simmons was having dinner with his
mother.”

Well crap, there went that angle. “I’m
surprised he bothered to check. I always got the impression he had
a crush on you.”

“He’d arrested Crystal last weekend. He
recognized her when he was paying his bill. He couldn’t ignore it.
Oh God,” she said, covering her eyes with her hands. “What am I
going to do? I’m going to lose everything. I don’t have the money
for the fines and if they yank my liquor license, I’ll go under.
I’m barely hanging on as it is.”

Fear tightened Trace’s stomach. She looked so
resigned, like it was already over and she was giving up on
Seasons. What if she left? Without Seasons, what did she have
holding her here?

“I can give you the money.”

She looked up at him with eyes red from
crying. “I can’t let you do that. You don’t have that kind of money
on hand anyway, do you?”

“I’ve got the farm. I can borrow against the
land.” The thought should have scared the crap out of him, but it
didn’t. The farm had always been the most important thing in the
world to him. Turned out is wasn’t anymore. She was.