Love at Last Read online

  It took all his focus to work through the performance and not head straight out of the ring, swoop Rachel off her feet, and ride away with her.

  The horses performed gracefully, easily handling the side passes, marches, and a host of other tricks as they mirrored each other’s actions. Cal knew how important it was to remain at ease when he was on any horse. They were sensitive creatures, and Luke’s horses had worked too hard to be thrown off their game because of his jealousy. But hell if reining in his emotions wasn’t like trying to tame a wild bull. He tried to focus on the show, refusing himself even a glance at Rachel.

  By the time the show came to an end and the horses bowed, earning loud cheers from the crowd, Cal was about at his wit’s end.

  As he rode out of the ring, he chanced a look in the direction where Rachel had been—and felt gutted that both she and Cutter were gone.

  Chapter Two

  AFTER GETTING THE horses settled, Cal went in search of Rachel, walking in the direction of where he’d seen her earlier. The crowd was dispersing, and he was walking against the flow. People congratulated him on the show, and friends stopped to chat, but Cal was too focused on finding Rachel to want to waste any time. He politely tipped his hat, moving away as quickly as he could without being rude. There was a break before the rodeo began, and he had hoped to spend that time with Rachel.

  Goddamn it. He should have made his move at the diner instead of bullshit flirting. He didn’t like the desperate switch that had flipped in his head. He’d felt her pulling away, and that had catapulted him into someone he wasn’t.

  I should have made my move ages ago.

  He climbed up on the fence to get a better look and spotted Rachel standing with Cutter on the other side of the ring. Her back was to Cal, but he’d know her anywhere. He hopped over the fence and jogged across the ring. Every determined step brought a huff of arrogance. He’d be damned if he was going to lose her to any other man. He put one hand on the top of the fence and propelled himself over it, landing behind them with a thud.

  Rachel and Cutter turned, and that slightly shy, mega-watt smile he adored appeared on her face, soothing the ire that had mounted inside him. Her long blond hair hung in gentle waves over her shoulders. The chocolate-brown sweater she wore had one of those drapey necklines, and the sleeves hung over the lower part of her hands. There was nothing curve-hugging about it. Her jeans were tight, but the sweater hung almost to her thighs. And still, with her knee-high brown suede boots and those bedroom eyes, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, and he was determined to make her his.

  “Hey,” she said a little breathlessly. “That was an amazing show.”

  “Thanks, beautiful.” He didn’t hesitate as he draped an arm over her shoulder and said, “Hey, Cutter. Thanks for keeping Rachel company, but I’ve got something I need to show her.”

  Confusion rose in both Rachel’s and Cutter’s eyes.

  “I…uh…no problem,” Cutter said.

  “Great. We’ll catch ya later.” Cal guided Rachel away.

  She blinked her pale green, curious eyes up at him. “Where are we going?”

  “Like I said, I want to show you something.” He headed for the craft tent across the field, telling himself not to ask if she was into Cutter. It was killing him not knowing, but it didn’t matter if she was. He’d win her over come hell or high water.

  “Okay,” she said skeptically, looking over her shoulder in the direction Cutter had gone. “But that was kind of rude.”

  She was right, and being rude or lying went against everything he’d been taught and the way he lived his life. He couldn’t fix the rude part, and he wasn’t about to lie to Rachel, so he went with, “Yeah, probably.”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Cal, what is going on? Do you have a problem with Cutter?”

  “Nope,” he said as they weaved around a group of people eating ice-cream cones.

  “Sure seemed like you did.”

  He looked down at her and his stomach went all squirrely. “I’ve got a problem with Cutter hitting on you.”

  “What?” she asked with a laugh. “Why?”

  “Because it’s my turn to hit on you.”

  “Wait, what? Your turn? You flirt with me all the time.”

  He stopped walking and gazed into her confused eyes. “Flirting with you and hitting on you are two different things.”

  She crossed her arms, the confusion morphing to amusement. “Enlighten me, wise flirtatious one.”

  He chuckled. “Flirting is something you do when you’re feeling out the situation. Getting a read on each other’s emotions.” He stepped closer, touched his fingers to hers, and enjoyed the slight hitch to her breathing. He lowered his voice so she had to listen carefully and would hear every word he said. “And hitting on someone is something you do when you know they’re the one you want to take home that night.”

  Her brows knitted. “So, you think you’re going to have sex with me tonight? After you’ve toyed with me for months? Well, I’ve got news for you, Cal Hayden. I’m not that type of girl.”

  “Relax. I know you’re not. Having sex is not on my agenda.” Although making love to Rachel was definitely on his mind. He took her hand and continued walking toward the craft tent. “Come on, darlin’. We have candles to make.”

  “Candles? What has gotten into you?” She smiled as they followed a group of people into the craft area.

  Tables lined the walls of the tent offering all sorts of do-it-yourself crafts, like wreath making, string art, pottery, and about a dozen other options. It smelled like wax and cinnamon. Children laughed as they darted around the tables, and he could hear smiles in the din of the crowd.

  “What is on your agenda tonight?” Rachel asked.

  He leaned down and said, “Only you, darlin’,” and then he handed a twenty-dollar bill to the woman behind the candlemaking table. “We’d like to make four candles, please.”

  The woman handed them four tickets and a basket, then pointed to another table, where they were directed to choose four glass jars.

  “What if I have plans?” Rachel asked.

  He hadn’t thought of that and realized his mistake. “Then that would make me rude for not checking. My apologies. Do you have plans?”

  “Well, no, but…” Her lips curved up in another sweet smile. “I could have.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have assumed. Rachel, will you allow me to monopolize the next few hours?”

  “The next few hours?” She pressed her lips together, looking sweet and sexy with her brows knitted tightly and her unstoppable smile peeking out despite her efforts to hide it.

  RACHEL LOOKED AROUND the tent wondering what alternate universe she’d stepped into to have Cal Hayden pursuing her so purposefully, much less wanting to make candles. When she was watching him ride the horse, all she could think about was how capable and confident he was, and how she wanted to be a lot more than someone he toyed with. And when Cutter came over, she tried to turn off her feelings for Cal. After all, Cal hadn’t seemed to want to do more than flirt with her. But turning off her emotions wasn’t an option. Heck, flirting with another guy wasn’t even an option. Poor Cutter was met with uncaring responses like uh-huh and that’s nice. She’d moved to the other end of the ring, hoping to shake him, but Cutter had followed her over.

  She gazed up at the frustratingly handsome object of her affection and wondered what this was to him. A game? A challenge? The warmth and hope in his eyes told her it was neither, and that both thrilled her and made her nervous.

  “Okay,” she said shakily. “But I’m not going to sleep with you. I don’t even know what to make of all this.”

  He squeezed her hand, a relieved smile curving his lips. “Trust me, sweetheart. By the end of tonight, you’ll know exactly what to make of us.”

  Oh boy. Us? Was he saying what she thought? What she’d hoped for too long to believe?

  They chose four jars and put them
in the basket. Then they moved on to the next table, to choose the scents for their candles. There must have been thirty or more to choose from, which was a little overwhelming, made even more so by every brush of Cal’s leg, hip, or shoulder against her. She was too aware of his every move, and his every glance. There could be a thousand fragrances, but all she smelled was one particular rugged cowboy.

  “Vanilla?” she suggested.

  “That’ll make you hungry.” He waggled his brows and snagged the fragrance jar from her hands. “We’ll take it.”

  She laughed and picked up another. “Sandalwood?”

  He arched a brow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Anything that inspires wood has to be good, right?”

  “Cal!” Laughter fell from her lips.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’. I don’t need a candle when I’ve got you by my side.”

  “Ohmygosh.” She felt herself blushing. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”

  He put his mouth beside her ear and said, “I’m the guy who knows what he wants, remember?”

  Her heart did a happy dance, and she was too breathless to respond.

  “How about this? Pure Innocence?” He wiggled the fragrance jar. “That’s you personified. And now it’s mine.”

  The redhead behind the scent table held up a fragrance jar and said, “We have the perfect scent for young lovers.”

  “Oh,” Rachel said, “we’re not—”

  “That young,” Cal said, reaching for the jar with a cocky grin. He smelled it and held it out for Rachel to do the same.

  She sniffed the musky, sweet scent. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “It’s called Satin Sheets,” he said. “We’re taking this one, too.”

  “I thought you said sex wasn’t on your agenda,” she whispered.

  “It’s not.” He put his arm around her and led her to the next table. “But maybe it’s on yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “I see the way you look at me.”

  She was about to deny it, but he cocked his head with a challenge in his eyes, and they both laughed.

  “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad to look at,” she said as they sat at a picnic table to make their candles.

  One of the women who was running the station came over and explained the candlemaking process.

  “Measure, melt, wick, fragrance, pour. I think we can handle this.” Cal bumped Rachel’s shoulder. “Right, lover?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Right.”

  “Okay, then. If you need me, just holler.” The woman moved to the next table to help another couple.

  “Lover?” Rachel asked.

  “Like I said, I see that hope in your eyes.”

  But could he see the bigger hope in her heart, which was holding tight to each of his comments, wishing for more than a sexy night?

  They worked together to measure the wax for each candle and melt it.

  “We’re supposed to dip the little silver base of the wick into the wax and stick it to the bottom of the jars,” she reminded him.

  “I usually don’t let women play with my wick on the first date, but…” His gaze heated.

  Lust simmered inside her, and she felt her cheeks heat up again. “Are you trying to make me blush?”

  He shrugged. “You’re the one who wants my wick. I’m trying to behave, but you’ve got one hand on my thigh.” He picked up her hand and placed it on his thigh. “And you’re looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. I mean, it’s a little hard to miss the fact that you’re sizing me up.”

  She laughed. “You’re so cute, it’s ridiculous.”

  “Cute?” He leaned closer and said, “Or hot?”

  Their eyes connected, and her heart did a fluttery thing, which felt an awful lot like what happened in those pre-kiss seconds, when her skin would sizzle and her eyelids would grow heavy. It had been ages since she’d kissed a man, and Cal wasn’t leaning in. Which means I’m in this moment alone.

  Oh crud!

  “Wicks,” fell from her lips. She scrambled for a wick and dipped the little metal base on the bottom of the wick into the melted wax. Then, with shaky hands, she lowered it into the jar.

  “Here.” He secured a clothespin on the top of the wick and balanced it on the rim of the jar. “You don’t want that to fall in.”

  “How do you know so much about candlemaking?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  He smiled, and it wasn’t the flirtatious one that she’d seen so often lately. It was his genuine, warm smile. The one that had captured her attention when he’d walked into the diner a few years ago while she was eating breakfast. First she’d seen his smile and then she’d seen his butt. She’d been unable to look away from either ever since.

  They fell silently into sync, adding the wicks to the other jars and securing them with clothespins. Cal moved the pot in which the wax had melted to the cooling tray and turned to face Rachel with a serious expression.

  “We have to talk about something,” he said, and she leaned closer so as not to miss a word. “How do you feel about satin sheets?”

  It took her a second to figure out if he was talking about the fragrance or not, and she decided to jump in on his little game. “I like satin sheets very much, as long as there’s a little sweetness between them.” She picked up the vanilla fragrance jar and wiggled it.

  “Hm.” He narrowed his eyes seductively. “Are you opposed to a little heat between the sheets, or do you prefer pure innocence?”

  She felt her cheeks burning and forced herself to hold his gaze. “How can you stoke a fire if you don’t heat up the wood?” She reached for the sandalwood bottle, feeling bold and naughty, and placed it in his hand.

  His fingers curled around hers, and he looked at her like nothing else existed. Electricity zinged inside her like a pinball. This was the moment she’d dreamed about, the one she’d tried to give up on only a few hours ago. Her heart told her to go with it, to lean in and take the kiss she’d been dying for. But she couldn’t ignore the red flags waving in her head. She knew Cal wasn’t a player. That wasn’t what was worrying her. There was never any gossip about him and other women. He hadn’t even buried his grief in alcohol or women when he’d lost his father. Rachel had wanted to be there for him then, but he’d been surrounded by his guy friends. That was what he’d seemed to need at the time, regardless of how she’d ached for him. But was this real, or a figment of her hopes and dreams? He’d said all the right things, but she’d wanted him for so long she needed clarity before they kissed even once. One taste would never be enough.

  She nervously withdrew her hand from his and reached for the handle of the pot. Cal put his hand over hers, rough, warm, and so big, it swallowed hers up.

  “Be careful, darlin’. I don’t want my girl getting burned.”

  She sighed, reveling in his endearment.

  They lifted the pot together and poured the wax into the jars.

  “I thought I knew you,” she finally said, “but I’m beginning to think you’re two different people.”

  “That might be fun.” He waggled his brows again.

  “I’m serious. You’re the epitome of a gentleman most of the time, and then you started shamelessly flirting with me, but you’ve never asked me out. And now you’re acting like we’ve been a couple forever. I don’t want to play games, Cal. I can’t keep up.”

  “I don’t want to play games either.”

  One of the women who worked there brought over a metal tray. “You two did a great job! I’ll put these in the cooling area, and you can come get them in a few hours. Do you still have your tickets?”

  “We do, thank you,” Cal said as Rachel rose to her feet. His gaze warmed again as he took her hand. “Ready?”

  They left the bright lights of the tent, and she said, “You never answered my question. If you really like me and this isn’t some sort of…I don’t know what, then why haven’t you asked me out?”

 
The dusky night air sent a chill through her, or that might have been her nerves, because they stopped beneath a big, beautiful tree, which had been decorated with tiny white lights, and when Cal faced her, the emotions in his eyes were palpable.

  “You don’t just go up to the prettiest horse in the stable and climb on board, Rachel. First you have to spend time with her, get to know what settles her, what makes her jumpy. Learn what makes pride shimmer in her eyes. You need to earn her trust and be fully committed, ready to take on such an important responsibility. That type of trust doesn’t come easily, and it needs to be so real that when you look into her eyes, there’s no doubt lingering there.”

  He brushed a lock of her hair from her cheek and cupped her face with his warm hand. Between the intimate touch and the way he was gazing into her eyes, she could barely breathe.

  “Over the past few years, I’ve learned that you’re not the type of girl who flaunts herself with the need to be the center of attention. You like to blend in, to be noticed for who you are, not for your incredible beauty. You’re soft, but not naively innocent, and strong, which shows in how you carry yourself and the way you run your business. You’re creative, making those little signs you set around town, and you’re generous to a fault—giving those signs to people to brighten their days.”

  Holy cow, he knew about her signs? She’d started painting old pieces of wood her father had lying around when she was young. She’d paint friendly or inspirational phrases because they made her happy, and her parents always hung them up in the house, the barn, the porch. One day when a neighbor had gotten ill, she’d made one for him, and when she saw the joy it had given him, she’d begun making them for other friends, people who were going through hard times.