Now Riley enjoyed the slow, sweet country life very much. He loved his ranch, he loved his job, and he loved the wild, open desert that had been his home since birth. But he didn’t fool himself. He wasn’t likely to find a woman suited to this life, not for keeps anyway. In his experience, both with his mother and the few women he’d gotten serious enough about to even contemplate settling down with, women craved far more than what small-town living could provide.
Not Riley, not anymore. Yes, he’d left Little Paradise for college, but after four years, he’d missed it with all his heart and soul. He loved the huge, open spaces, the quiet, the sense of freedom he’d never found in a place teeming with too many people and things. Yeah, he’d been ready to come home.
Princess here, on the other hand, didn’t look ready for a break from where she’d come from. She was glowering at her customers as if this was all their fault.
“I almost hate to butt in here,” he said with amusement. “Because honestly, it’s so much fun to watch you work this out by yourself. But I feel the need to point out that this is what some would consider a people job.”
“Do I look like a people person?” She yanked the apron strings around her waist and tied it. With an air of dignity better suited to royalty than a tiny café out in the middle of nowhere, she studied the mess behind the counter.
Marge had been an excellent cook, an even better people person, but cleaning up after herself hadn’t been her strong suit.
The place was a disaster area.
Behind them, the clientele grew restless. From the kitchen came utter silence, the meaning of which obviously didn’t escape Holly, because she chewed on her bottom lip and stared through the service window, clearly wondering how she was going to manage both serving and cooking.
“So, what’s the plan?” Riley asked her.
She ignored that, too, so he stood, then moved behind the counter. The area was small. Holly was close enough that he could see her eyes weren’t completely light blue, as he’d first thought, but had little specs of darker blue swimming in them. And though he was tall, she came up past his chin, so that he could look into her eyes without stooping.
Surprised when he did just that, she backed up a step, then lifted her chin again. “What are you doing?”
He smiled, enjoying her queen-to-peasant tone. “Just looking at you.”
“Well…stop it. And why are you back here anyway?”
Hell if he knew. She was as annoying as any woman he’d ever met and yet for some reason, she stirred his blood. “Don’t you want help?”
She looked horrified. “From you?”
Oh, yeah. She was definitely annoying.
“What does a cowboy, much less a sheriff, know about running a café?” she asked.
“What do you know about running a café?”
He had her there, he could tell. She just glared at him, apparently her standard response when she didn’t know what else to do. Riley imagined she alienated quite a few people that way, but for some reason, it only amused him all the more. “What’s the plan?” he asked again, tying on Eddie’s old apron, which was thankfully dyed beige, not hot pink.
“Why should I tell you?”
He smiled at that. “Because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re about to handle this place all by your little lonesome. In fact, if I were you, I’d be super-extra sweet to me.”
Her gaze was glacial. “I don’t do sweet.”
He laughed and went for the coffeepot to pour himself a cup, watching as she vanished into the kitchen. “Don’t I know it.”
HOLLY STOOD in front of the huge grill, staring down at the congealing fat surrounding the burgers, which good old Eddie had been cooking for who knew which one of the customers out front.
She supposed she could go out there and ask, but then she’d have to admit she was clueless, and she’d have to admit it in front of Riley McMann, the first man she’d ever met with the unique ability to completely ruffle her feathers.
No man did that to her. She did that to them. But not in this case, damn him anyway.
Things were definitely out of control.
Frustration swamped her. She felt as if she were floundering in a situation, scrambling to get what she wanted.
And what she wanted was so simple. It always had been.
Acceptance.
Compassion.
The L word. Love.
She deserved those things, didn’t she? Sure, she’d always been a bit of a troublemaker, but that was only because she knew what she wanted, and knew if she didn’t go after it full-steam ahead, no one was going to hand it to her.
No one had ever handed her anything. Instead they took one look and judged her on looks alone. So she had good genes, so what? Being blond and smart didn’t mean jack diddly unless she was respected for it, which she wasn’t.
From out front, someone called for the waitress.
Ha! She knew even less about how to be a waitress than she did how to cook.
But if she was going to make this work, if she was going to prove her worth to her family for once and all, she needed to learn both, and quickly.
So, what first? Where to start?
“You turn on the stove.”
Damn, but she already knew that low, husky voice all too well. She turned and, yep, sure enough, there stood Riley. He touched a hand to his hat, setting it back on his head so that she could get a good look at his rugged, tanned, far-too-good-looking face, and the grin that went with it. “Let me guess,” she said in the most alienating tone she had. “Your doughnut break isn’t over yet.”
He just laughed good-naturedly. “Actually, I prefer ice cream to donuts, thanks.”
“Don’t you have some bad guys to catch or something?”
He walked straight toward her, still smiling. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead and his dark eyes were sparkling with good humor.
He was invading her space again.
And he just kept coming, his wide shoulders taking up most of her view, his long jeans-clad legs closing the gap between them with alarming speed.
She stood her ground and lifted her chin, daring him to come closer.
He did. Then closer still.
When he was within a foot of her, so close she could see the tiny laugh lines fanning out from his eyes, she caved and backed up.
At her movement, his grin spread and he reached out, brushing her hip with his long fingers. Forcing herself completely still was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, though she didn’t understand why. He was just a man. She wasn’t afraid of him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, cool as a cucumber and proud of it. He didn’t have to know her heart had nearly accelerated right out of her chest.
All because of a touch.
He flicked the knob on the range, heating it. Then he looked at her, mischief in his smile, in every inch of his strong, masculine, sexy, slightly dangerous-looking body.
Dangerous because she liked strong, masculine and sexy.
Too bad she didn’t like him.
“Just getting you started,” he said.
“Oh.” Her voice was breathless, and irritated. She cleared her throat.
He was still far too close.
“What did you think I was doing?”
“Um…” The phone on the wall rang and Holly dove for it, pathetically thankful for the diversion. “Hello!”
“Is this Café Nirvana? I need to speak to my daughter.”
“Mother!” Holly gripped the phone tight, never in her life so happy to hear anyone’s voice, even her mother’s. “Where are you?” she asked, hoping the answer was close.
“Your father and I have decided to take a vacation.”