Down Home Cowboy. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
he said, thickening his drawl on purpose.
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he liked the result. The color rose in her cheeks, pretty and bright, and for a moment he just enjoyed the sight. He wasn’t going to do anything about her response to him, but, apparently he hadn’t forgotten how to do this entirely. That was good to know.
“I’ll be back later,” he said. And he didn’t wait for her response before he walked out of the shop and back onto the street.
* * *
ALISON WAS STILL flustered a couple of hours after Cain left. She had been ready to stand firm when it had come to Violet and her lateness. But then... Then... Stuff had happened. And she still wasn’t entirely sure what it had been. Well, okay, it had been flirting. She was reasonably sure. But why? Why did she have to respond to him like this? And what was even the point of him making it blatantly obvious that he was...that there was electricity between them?
She heard a loud groan from across the kitchen, and turned just in time to see her problem child pulling another sunken cake out of the oven.
She could fire Violet. She could blame it on the cake. No one would ever have to know it was because she thought Violet’s dad was hot.
No. She wasn’t going to do that. The entire cornerstone of her business was helping women. If she compromised that mission because of a man... Well. Hypocrisy, that’s what it was.
“You’re still having trouble, Violet?” she asked, once she had her rogue thoughts under control.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” She looked so distressed that all of Alison’s petty thoughts faded away.
“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to help you. I’m going to spend extra time on this with you.”
Violet shifted uncomfortable, tucking a strand of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “I don’t know if I can get down here for that. Or stay late or anything. My dad has to get up super early to work and I don’t have my license yet.”
“Okay,” Alison said, feeling determined now. She had been passive, once upon a time. That was not her way now. Now, when she got the bug to do something, she dug her heels right in. “Is there space to cook at your place?”
“I guess so. We’re staying in my uncle Finn’s house, and his kitchen is gigantic.”
“Do you think anyone would mind if I came over after shift and helped you with a few things?”
Violet blinked, obviously surprised by the offer. “No. Probably none of them will be around. Finn will be with Lane, my dad will be... Well, anywhere but in the house. My other two uncles... Mostly I don’t want to know what they’re up to.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the comment about her dad, but it suited Alison to think he wouldn’t be around. “Perfect. Actually, if you want to text your dad and let him know that I can drive you home...”
Violet frowned. “You don’t have to do that. It seems like you’re doing an awful lot for me.” And that clearly made the teenager uncomfortable. But Alison was willing to make her uncomfortable for the sake of proving she was valued.
She’d needed that. And no one in her life had given it.
“Yes,” Alison said. “I am. But you should never feel like you don’t deserve that, Violet.” Alison felt passionate about this part of her job, about this part of the bakery, and her calling. Because she had spent so many years living in a dark hole. Thinking that she didn’t even deserve to see the sun, not after what she had submitted herself to for so many years. It was difficult to ask for help when you’d half convinced yourself that it was your own fault you needed it.
Now that she was in a position to offer help to other people, now that she wasn’t in quite such a desperate situation, she wanted them to feel the freedom in accepting help. In feeling that they deserved it.
Especially somebody as young as Violet. She wanted her to always know that she could ask for extra help if she needed it. That she wasn’t a burden. That she could offer help herself when she saw the need, and she was able.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so nice,” Violet responded.
“This is something that I can do. I’m good at baking. And I’m good at helping other people learn how to do it. Or if not baking specifically, then job skills in general. Why wouldn’t I want to pass that on?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to know. But I do want to help. So after work we’re going to tackle more cake. If you think you’re up to it.”
“Definitely,” Violet said, looking a little more certain now.
“Great.”
Alison attacked the rest of the day with a solid sense of determination. She felt...a renewed sense of something. And she was rolling with it. By the time they closed up shop, she was feeling even more amped up.
Last night’s sense of...whatever that had been had faded. She didn’t need attraction. She didn’t need flirting. She had this. She was making a difference.
“Are you ready?” she asked Violet, grabbing a few of the ingredients she would need to do some more specialized baking tonight and piling her arms high with them.
“Yes,” Violet said. “Do you need help?”
“Yes. If you could get those icing bags and a couple of different extracts—whatever you’re in the mood for—that would be great.”
Violet complied, pausing briefly in front of the various flavored extracts. “What should I choose?”
“If we were making your birthday cake, what would you pick?”
“Lemon. And vanilla. Lemon for the cake, vanilla for the frosting.”
“Then choose those. We are going to make a badass lemon vanilla cake.”
Violet looked absolutely delighted by that. And Alison wasn’t sure she had ever seen the teenager delighted before.
Violet was almost chatty on the drive out of town, up to the ranch that she and her father were living on. Alison had never been to Finn’s house, though given the fact that Lane was almost living there now, she had a feeling that she would have been invited up soon enough.
The house itself was set back from the main road, at the end of a long, winding driveway. A stunning log creation that almost seemed to flow with the nature around it. “This is... Well, it’s beautiful,” Alison said as she pulled up to the expansive dwelling.
“I guess so,” Violet said, her enthusiasm noticeably dampened.
“You don’t like it here?” Alison asked, turning her car engine off and unbuckling.
“I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t like it, I guess.” Except she clearly didn’t.
“An issue with ranch life or small-town life?” Alison asked.
“I don’t know. It’s just different. It’s cold and there’s nothing to do in town. We lived on a ranch in Texas but we were closer to a city.”
“I’ve never lived anywhere but Copper Ridge,” Alison said. “Though I’ve fantasized about running away a few times.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I just don’t know where I would run to.”
“Adults can’t really run away. They just move.” Violet let out a heavy sigh. “They have all the control.”
“That isn’t true,” Alison said. “Adults can most definitely run away. Mostly when they feel like they aren’t in control. Anyway. Let’s get all of the baking stuff.” She got out of the car, inhaling a deep breath of the sweet, pine-scented air. She