Wrapped Up with a Ranger: A small town military marriage of convenience romance (Bad Boy Bakers Book 2) Read online

  “Well, I say we can’t just leave this as it is. We’ve got to encourage Fate a little bit.” Before Cayla could protest, Zara hopped up from her seat and crossed the bar to where Holt sat with Brax and Jonah. While Lewis Washington, one of the co-owners of Forbidden Fruit Cidery, rocked out to “Don’t Stop Believin’”, she said something to Holt in her enthusiastic, animated way. Holt glanced in Cayla’s direction and nodded.

  Cayla desperately wished for the floor to open up and swallow her. That sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach got worse as Zara left the guys’ table and went to the karaoke computer. What the hell was she up to? A smug, self-satisfied smile split Zara’s face from ear to ear as she dropped back into her chair.

  “What did you do?”

  “Girl, I helped.” She waved a hand toward the screen on the wall that listed the next song and performers.

  Holt Steele and Cayla Black. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”.

  As Lewis reached the end of his song and Holt rose from his seat, Cayla shot her friend a withering stare. “I hate you.”

  Zara just blew her a kiss. “You’re welcome! Now go on up there and flirt!”

  Cayla approached the stage as if it were a gallows walk. Holt already had one mic in his hand and snagged the other from Lewis as he stepped down.

  “Nice job, man.”

  “Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Holt offered her the microphone, then continued to hold out his hand when she took it. Mortified all over again, Cayla thought about just stepping past him onto the stage. But that seemed rude and like a deliberate slight she didn’t intend, so she laid her hand in his. The moment those long, callused fingers curled around hers, she steadied, and the noise of the crowd seemed to mute. Did he feel that electric hum, or was it all in her head? It had been so damned long since she’d felt legitimate attraction, and God knew, it hadn’t been this… visceral with her ex-husband.

  They took their places on stage, and he didn’t release her hand, didn’t look at the crowd. Nerves crashed down on her like a wave no longer held back, jittering in her belly, through her muscles. Cayla couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her nervous in a good way. She was well aware she squeaked through her first couple of lines. When they hit the “ooo hoo”s, he gave a little yank on the hand he held, spinning her into him for a joint shimmy. The move so surprised her, she laughed, missing her next line. But it loosened her up. The taciturn former Ranger was flirting. In some dim, dark recess of her mind, she remembered how to do that. So she stopped focusing on the situation, on the audience, and focused on the man instead, looking into those piercing blue eyes that seemed to spark with humor as she fell into the call and answer of the song. By the time they finished, she was grinning.

  At Holt’s encouragement, she took her bow. He did the same, then escorted her off the stage.

  “Buy you a drink?”

  “Oh, well, I’m here for Misty’s bachelorette party, and I’ve already hit my limit. I’ve gotta pick up Maddie from my mom’s later.”

  “A soda then. Or lemonade? Singing always makes me thirsty.”

  “Okay, sure. Thanks.” Cayla headed for the bar, aware of the warm press of his hand on her lower back as they navigated the crowd.

  They placed their orders and waited as the gorgeous black woman behind the bar pulled them together.

  “So how’s everything going at your office?” he asked.

  “It’s going. There are still a million and one things to do around there before I can really see clients. The painting alone is taking forever. But kid, work, only so many hours in the day.” She laughed, because she could move to a planet with a thirty-six-hour day and still never catch up. Such was life as a single mom.

  “Sounds like you could use a hand. We’re all available Sunday.”

  Cayla blinked at him. “Y’all have your own business to put together.”

  “It’s mostly there. Got the business license today. That’s why we’re out tonight. Celebrating. Other than that, the renovation’s done, all our equipment is in. We’re just refining recipes and working out offerings and prices. We can afford to take a break to help you out. Besides—what’s that saying? Many hands make light work. Does Sunday work for you?”

  “Um.” It seemed like there was probably a reason she should say no, but damned if she could remember why. “Yes?”

  The bartender delivered their drinks.

  “Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll see you on Sunday. Enjoy the rest of your party.” He lifted his drink in a toast, curved one corner of that mouth that so rarely smiled, and headed back to his table.

  Cayla scooped up her lemonade and made her way back to her friends, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  2

  “Remind me why we’re here on our day off,” Jonah wanted to know.

  “Because she’s a single mom who needs help, and we have time and capable hands.” Holt wheeled his 4-Runner into the tiny gravel lot in front of the little house Cayla had rented for her office, parking beside her older-model Camry. Brax and Mia were already here. The flower beds had been weeded since last week. Not that it said much. The bushes out front were still scraggly and overgrown. They needed pruning at the least, yanking out at the best. He wondered what she had planned for the beds. Something bright and cheerful like she had at the little bungalow where she lived? Or something more sedate and professional? He hoped for the cheerful. Anything else didn’t seem like it would suit her.

  “And this has nothing to do with you wanting to bone her?”

  Even knowing this was payback for poking at him about Rachel the other night, Holt shot Jonah an icy stare. “Watch your mouth, and no. I’m not looking for a package deal. I did my time raising Hadley.” Not that he regretted the sacrifices he’d made for his baby sister.

  “But you adore that kid.”

  It was true. “Maddie’s my little buddy. That doesn’t mean anything.” And if I keep telling myself that, maybe I’ll believe it. Because both daughter and mother are way too damned appealing.

  He shouldn’t have given in to temptation and sung with her. Well, it wasn’t so much the singing as the dance he’d pulled her into because he’d wanted to wipe that anxious expression off her face. And to get a sense of the feel of those soft curves. The whole thing had gone against his personal code of being her friend and nothing more. But he just hadn’t been able to help himself, and damn, it had been the most fun he’d had in longer than he cared to remember.

  Jonah hit him with some not insignificant side eye. “Methinks the Ranger doth protest too much.”

  “Look, you were raised by a single mom. Wouldn’t she have appreciated some help when you were coming up?”

  “Fair point. And to be clear, I have no problem helping Cayla out with this. She’s always been a sweetheart. I just wanted to bust your chops.”

  “I’ll exact revenge in our next sparring match.”

  Jonah grinned. “Bring it, Broadway.”

  After a perfunctory knock, they went inside. Mia and Brax were already at work, applying painter’s tape around the windows and all the trim. A neat stack of painting supplies sat in the middle of the scarred wood floors. There was no immediate sign of Cayla.

  “Holt! Holt! Holt!” A little blonde dervish came racing toward him from the kitchenette.

  He bent and scooped Maddie up before she could careen into his bad leg. She settled against his waist, snuggling against him as if she’d been doing it for years. “Hey, Bumblebee. How are you today?”

  “I’m good! Grandma made pancakes for breakfast this morning!”

  “That is, indeed, an awesome way to start the day,” he agreed.

  Sobering, she reached up to press her little hand to his brow.

  “Whatcha doing, kid?”

  “Checking you for a fever.”

  “No fever. Why?”

  “Mama says you’re hot.”

  Mia snorted, and Brax choked on a lau
gh. Cayla, who’d been coming out of the tiny bedroom that served as an office, pressed both hands to her flaming cheeks and did an abrupt about-face.

  “Out of the mouths of babes,” Jonah intoned.

  It took everything Holt had to repress the delighted smile. He shouldn’t be delighted. It didn’t matter that Cayla thought he was hot. He wasn’t pursuing anything. He was here, with friends in tow, to help her out. That was all.

  Lowering Maddie to the floor, he looked her in the eye. “Are you helping us paint today?”

  “Little Miss Big Mouth will be watching movies on the iPad.” Face still pink, Cayla emerged from the back, a stern gaze on her daughter.

  Maddie’s eyes were wide and innocent. “What?”

  Cayla sighed. “Nothing, Munchkin. The iPad is in the office. Go pick what you want to watch, okay?”

  “Okay, Mommy.” She scampered down the hall.

  As Cayla watched her go, Holt studied Cayla. Something about her seemed off somehow. Dimmer than usual.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  She flashed him a smile, but it wasn’t her usual sunny beam, and he recognized fake-it-til-you-make-it when he saw it. Something was definitely bothering her, and he didn’t think it was embarrassment over what Maddie had blabbed. Was it something to do with the two of them getting their flirt on Thursday night? Was she upset by his admittedly mixed signals? Or was something else going on? As she looked around the room with something like yearning, it struck him that maybe he’d made a mistake, all but shoving their help down her throat.

  Holt rubbed at the sudden heat in the back of his neck. “Listen, Cayla, I should have done this the other night before I dragged everybody else into this, but… are you okay with us being here?”

  She blinked, focusing in on him with a faint frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I mean, maybe you wanted to do everything yourself. To take ownership of the place. I didn’t mean to minimize that. I just thought you’d get done quicker, and I basically told you we’d come instead of asking if you even wanted us to. Orders are kind of a hazard of my former occupation.” And damn, the men of his unit would razz the hell out of him if they could see him now.

  For the first time that morning, she really looked at him, those big doe eyes searching his face with cautious wonder. “It’s really sweet that you even thought of that as a potential issue. And no, I’m thrilled y’all are here. I’m absolutely terrible about asking for help, but I’m sure as heck not going to be so precious as to turn it down when offered.”

  She stepped closer, laying a hand on his arm. The warmth of those slim fingers soaked into him, soothing some disquiet he’d carried for so long he barely even noticed it anymore except when it wasn’t there. What would that gentle touch feel like on the rest of him?

  “Anyway, everything we get done today will get me that much closer to being able to see clients here.” This time, when she smiled, it reached her eyes. For now, anyway, she’d willed away whatever was bothering her. Holt was satisfied that whatever it was, it wasn’t about him. He’d take that for the moment.

  “And, hey, your business doing well is better for our business,” Brax added.

  “I consider this payback for all those pep rally and spirit week banners you painted back in high school,” Jonah put in.

  It was a startling reminder that they’d known each other for years. That this was her town, and she had a long history here.

  Cayla laughed. “I’m surprised you even knew I’d made them, since I was just a lowly freshman to your senior.”

  “Easy to remember, since Lance Peterson had the biggest crush on you.”

  “He did not! He never asked me out.”

  “Yeah, that might have been because we gave him shit in the locker room when one of the guys found the epically bad poetry composed about your smile.”

  “Language,” Holt growled.

  Jonah winced, shooting a glance toward the sound of pattering footsteps from the back. “Sorry.”

  “What ever happened to Lance?” Cayla wondered.

  “I think Mama said he moved to Louisville and became a banker or something.”

  “Didn’t he marry Jenny Sheridan?”

  As the two of them continued to swap small town gossip, Holt just shook his head. This whole thing was so alien. He hadn’t grown up in a small town. Hadn’t played high school sports. He’d been too busy busting his ass, working, making sure his baby sister was taken care of and that his mom didn’t pass out and choke on her own vomit after her latest bender. His mom hadn’t handled single parenthood well—or at all—preferring to fall into the bottle whenever her latest shit choice in partners disappeared, as they always had. She’d been nothing like Cayla. She’d never once put her kids first. Hell, maybe that was part of his fascination with Cayla. He had mad respect for everything she juggled on her own and the good, solid life she’d built for her kid. She was a truly good mother, on top of being sweet, funny, smart, and beautiful. And Maddie was—

  “Holt! Holt! Holt!”

  She came running in, the iPad in hand. “It’s Maui! Do Maui!”

  “Um.” It was his turn to avoid everyone’s gazes as Maddie held up the screen, paused at the key scene in Moana. He’d known singing for her a couple weeks back was going to come back to bite him in the ass. But he couldn’t help it. After all these years, all the work he’d put into it for Hadley, he was programmed to sing along to all Disney tunes, and she’d been watching Oliver and Company.

  “We’re about to get to work, Bumblebee.”

  “Oh please, oh please, ohplease! Just one!”

  “Yes, please, Broadway,” Jonah smirked.

  “Yeah, seriously. I’ve been hearing stories about this voice of yours,” Mia urged.

  Holt looked back at Maddie’s pleading face and sighed. Damn it, she looked just like Hadley at that age. He was toast. “Ok, ok, I see what's happening here.”

  Maddie giggled and danced as he rolled into the song. He kept his focus on the kid, on her effervescent happiness that was absolutely worth whatever crap Brax and Jonah would sling his way.

  When he’d finished, Maddie clapped and bounced. “Again!”

  “Another time, Munchkin,” Cayla told her. “As he said, we’re about to get to work. Say ‘thank you.’”

  Maddie waved him down, so Holt crouched to her level. She pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Thank you!”

  This kid.

  “You’re welcome.”

  As she scampered back down the hall, he rose, rubbing at the little ache in his chest.

  “Wow. I’ve really got to make it to karaoke night next time,” Mia observed.

  Cayla was looking at him with amusement.

  “You know she’s going to be like a dog playing an endless game of fetch now, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m familiar.” And Holt chose not to think too hard about the fact that he didn’t mind it. “Okay then, where do you want to start?”

  “Oh, my goodness! Look how much y’all got done today!”

  Cayla joined her mom in a survey of the little house. With everyone’s help, the entire place had been primed and the first coat of cheery butter yellow applied. “We’re so close. Thanks for staying with Maddie tonight, so I can stay late and finish.”

  Brax, Mia, and Jonah had packed up half an hour ago to head out to other obligations, but Holt was still at it, so Cayla made introductions. “This seemingly tireless saint of a helper is Holt Steele. Holt, this is my mother, Donna Black.”

  “Ma’am.” He nodded a greeting and tipped back a fresh bottle of water.

  Cayla tore her eyes away from the ripple of his throat as he swallowed. Why on earth should that be sexy?

  Donna split an appraising look between them, clearly wondering about the nature of their relationship. “Nice to meet you. You’re one of the bakers from across the street?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Maddie
tugged at her sleeve. “Mimi, did you know Holt can sing Maui?”

  “Can he, now?”

  “He can. He knows all the words.”

  With suitable sobriety, Donna nodded. “That’s very impressive.” But it didn’t save Cayla from The Eyebrow.

  Lord have mercy, her child was digging all kinds of holes today.

  Better to quash whatever ideas that put into her mother’s head.

  “Aren’t you ready to call it a day, Holt?”

  “I’m sticking around to help.” As if to emphasize the point, he just picked up the roller and began to apply the next coat.

  Flustered, Cayla scrambled. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. We’re so much further along than I thought we’d be.”

  He just leveled those implacable blue eyes on her. “I am not leaving you here alone at night. You stay, I stay.”

  Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out. What the hell could she say to that?

  Donna had no trouble stepping in. “Oh, I have to tell you that puts my mind at ease. I know things have been quiet since the—” She glanced down at Maddie. “—trouble across the street, but a mother worries.”

  Trouble. That was one word for the showdown a few months back when some nut job nearly killed Mia during the renovation of the bakery building. Thank God Brax had showed up in time to stop him.

  “I’ll see her home safe, ma’am.”

  Her mom beamed a considerably warmer smile in his direction. “Thank you, Holt. And you should come by for Sunday dinner some weekend.”

  Cayla fought not to drop her face into her hands again. Now her mom was playing matchmaker? Or was she just lining him up for an inquisition to determine if he was worth matchmaking?

  “That’d be nice. You just let me know when, and I’ll bring dessert.”

  Don’t I get a say in all this?

  Evidently deciding that Cayla’s opinion wasn’t needed, her mother just rolled on. “Excellent. I’m sure we’ll been in touch.” Taking Maddie’s hand, she started for the door. “We’re gonna go on, so y’all can get back to work.” The eyebrow waggle she aimed in Holt’s direction suggested she thought Cayla should do something else that had nothing to do with work.