Chapter 8

8

A s they pulled into the driveway, Ry told his mother, "Thanks for spending the day with me, Mom. I had a lot of fun."

She cut the engine and turned to him. "So did I, honey. It's just so good being around you after so many years apart. You left here on the cusp of manhood, and now it's a little hard to believe the years have gone by and you're an adult."

"I meant what I said last night, Mom. I'm very happy to be back in Lost Creek, and I'm ready to settle down."

"I assume by that you mean more than going to work at Blackwood BBQ. Are you thinking about marriage and a family?"

"I am," he confirmed. "You know I never liked being an only child, so I've got to find someone who can love me and who wants more than one kid."

She took his hand, bringing it to her cheek. "You have so much to offer a woman, Ry. I know the right one is waiting somewhere in Lost Creek for you."

"I hope so," he said. "Let's carry all these packages in."

They spent the next several minutes unloading the bags from her trunk and back seat. He hadn't spared any expense as he'd refurbished his wardrobe. Ry had banked almost every cent he'd earned in the army. The only exception had been money he spent on brief R&Rs to different countries. Now, he had everything from shirts to pants to socks and underwear. Even a navy blazer and one tie for formal occasions. Best of all, he'd picked up a new pair of ostrich cowboy boots and couldn't wait to break them in.

He carried all his purchases upstairs to his childhood bedroom and removed all the clothing in his closet from their hangers, folding and placing everything on the bed, as well as emptying the drawers of the dresser. He went to the kitchen and retrieved a roll of lawn bags and filled several with the clothes and shoes from years ago that no longer fit him.

Carting those bags downstairs, he piled them in the foyer. He found his mom in the kitchen, starting dinner, and told her that he had several sacks of items to donate.

"It's a lot. T-shirts. Jeans. Flannel and dress shirts."

"I'll take them to Lost Creek High School. They have a clothes closet there for students in need. I'm sure they'll find several young men who can wear what you're passing along."

"Remember that I'm not having dinner at home tonight," he reminded her.

"I hope you have fun with your friends, Ry. I know with Todd gone, that's left a huge hole in your heart. Most of your friends did move away after graduation from high school and college. It's nice that Harper and Ivy have recently returned to Lost Creek. I believe you'll enjoy getting to know their husbands."

"I liked what I saw of them last night," he told her. "I also enjoyed meeting Finley's husband and Wolf and Ana Ramirez, Holden's friends."

Mom grinned. "They've stopped in the diner a few times. Such lovely people, and their children are so well behaved."

"They asked me to stop by and watch a day of filming. I think I'm going to do that this week. Take a few days off, as you suggested, and then start at Blackwood BBQ next week."

"Your father will be pleased to hear that, Ry. He's been looking forward to you coming home and joining him in the family business. Your grandfather would also be proud."

"I'm going to jump in the shower and then head out," he said.

Twenty minutes later, Ry was in his mother's borrowed car, heading to pick up Emerson. He told himself not to rush things with her. Not to push her. Well, maybe he might nudge her a little bit. He was curious to learn more of her story, especially hearing from Finley what a rough time Emerson had growing up. No wonder she was so guarded. She had never really had anyone she could depend upon as a child or teen. It made him even more thankful for the childhood he'd experienced in Lost Creek, with loving parents he'd taken for granted.

He found her house easily and exited the car, walking up the sidewalk and ringing her doorbell.

She answered immediately, waving him in. "I need to get a few things for tonight's dessert. I wanted the ice cream to stay in the freezer until you got here."

Ry looked around the small, neat living room, which was open to the kitchen. His eyes followed Emerson as she went straight to the freezer and removed a carton of ice cream.

Walking her way, he exclaimed, "Blue Bell! That's my favorite ice cream." Glancing at the label, he added, "Homemade Vanilla. It doesn't get much better than that— unless you pour a little Hershey's dark chocolate syrup over it."

She smiled. "Funny you should say that."

Emerson opened the fridge, removing a bottle of dark chocolate syrup, as well as one of caramel.

"If dessert is just ice cream topped by these two, I'll be forever happy."

"There's more to it," she said, retrieving a covered 9 x 12 container from the fridge.

"What's inside that?" he asked, curiosity eating him up.

"You'll need to wait and see," she said, mischief glinting in her gray eyes.

Emerson opened a canvas bag and slipped everything inside it before saying, "Ready."

"I'll get that for you." He picked up the bag by its handles and followed her out the door.

"I'm in Mom's car tonight," he explained. "I had an old Ford Mustang in high school. Todd and I spent hours restoring it. When I left for the army, Dad promised to keep it running and in shape for me."

Once in the car, he continued, saying, "I thought I'd be coming home after my first TOD. When I decided to re-up, I told Dad to sell the car. He got a really decent price for it. I'll use that as a down payment on a truck."

"Boys and their toys," she said teasingly. "Does every male in Texas think he needs to drive a truck?"

"Have you ever thought about trading in the Mini Cooper?" he countered.

Emerson chuckled. "I do have plans to do so," she shared. "I bought it used. Very used. I've been good about keeping up with oil changes and tire rotations, but it's on its last legs. Not only did Ethel leave The Bake House to me, she also left me some cash. I plan to use that to buy something new. Well, new to me. I'm sure I'll buy a used car."

"Can you afford something brand new?"

She grew thoughtful. "I suppose I could."

"Then buy new," he recommended. "You seem like a careful, meticulous person. If you buy new and treat it right, you can drive a car for a decade or more. When you buy used, you don't know how much use— and abuse —that car's been through. New is a sound investment." He paused. "Maybe we should go car shopping together," he tossed out, wanting to see her reaction.

"Maybe," she said.

He recognized that tone. It was reminiscent of his mom's when she would tell Ry maybe when he was a boy. But she'd always meant no.

Changing topics, he asked, "You said we're eating Mexican tonight."

Emerson nodded. "It's Braden's turn to cook for us. He's fallen in love with Tex-Mex cuisine since he arrived. Finley will contribute her famous sangria. I know Ivy is making guacamole."

"Sounds like a feast. It's great that you get together once a week with friends."

"It's something we really look forward to," she shared. "Everyone has busy lives. Harper's will get even busier once the baby comes. I hope she'll still be up to hosting our Wednesday dinners after that happens. She and Braden bought a house which has a large dining room. We gather there each week. Turn here," she said. "And then turn at the first street."

She pointed out the house to him, and Ry parked in front of it. In the rear-view mirror, he saw another car pull in behind them. Dax and Ivy got out of it and joined them as Ry removed the canvas bag from the car.

Dax looked at the bag with interest. "That's dessert, I'm guessing. I'm hoping it's chocolate."

"Yes," Emerson said. "And that's all you're getting out of me, Dax Tennyson."

"Whatever it is, Emerson also brought vanilla Blue Bell to go with it," Ry revealed.

Dax smiled. "If you just give me a spoon and the carton, that's all I'll need tonight."

They made their way to the front door, and Harper let them in.

"Come inside. Finley is busy pouring sangria. There's also iced tea or sparkling water if you want either." She patted her belly. "As eager as I am for this little one to arrive, I think Finley's sangria might be the first thing I ask for after I give birth. I miss it."

Ry followed everyone into the large kitchen, greeting Finley and Holden.

"Are Wolf and Ana coming this evening?" he asked the writer as Finley handed glasses of sangria to the new arrivals.

"No," Holden said. "They took off last night for your welcome home party. Ana doesn't like to be away from Bear and Eva two nights in a row. She did remind me about asking if you want to come to set."

"I think it would be fascinating. Count me in." He glanced to Emerson. "Have you ever visited while they're filming?"

"No, I haven't."

Finley brightened. "You both should come. Tomorrow will be a really fun day."

"I'm usually at the bakery," Emerson said.

"You told me you'd hired your friend, Rhiannon," Finley pointed out. "Can't she cover things? You said you were putting her in charge so you could focus more on cakes for Weddings with Hart."

When Emerson didn't respond, Finley added, "I think you need to take the time off and go see the filming. It would mean a lot to Ana and Wolf."

Ry held his breath, seeing Emerson think it over. Finally, she said, "Okay. I guess I could come for a couple of hours before I head to the winery."

Holden consulted his phone. "There's a lot of little things being shot first thing. The big scene will probably begin shooting about ten. If you could be on set about nine, you could see a lot behind the scenes, and then we could watch the actors in action."

"I'll pick you and Ry up," Finley volunteered. "Holden will already be there. Say eight-thirty?"

"That's fine with me," Ry said easily. "I'm not going to report to Blackwood BBQ until next week." He glanced to Emerson. "Does that work for you?"

She nodded. Looking to Finley, she said, "Pick me up at the bakery."

"I'll be there, too," he said quickly. "That way, you'll only have to make one stop. I've been hankering for a kolache, so I'll get my fill tomorrow morning."

Braden opened the oven door and removed two large pans. He set both on the massive island in the center of the kitchen and pulled the foil from them, revealing enchiladas. The island already held a large bowl of Spanish rice, refried beans, guacamole, and chips.

"Everybody grab a plate," Braden announced. "Left side is beef enchiladas. Right is chicken."

Ry went around the islands, getting one of the beef and two of the chicken enchiladas, his mouth salivating at the sight and smell of them. He went to the dining room, where others were taking a seat. He hoped he'd be able to sit by Emerson and saw a spot open next to her, claiming it.

As he sat, his stomach grumbled loudly.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I just haven't seen good Mexican food in a long time."

Braden took a chair at the head of the table. "I grew up on Fresh Mex, thinking it was the best. When I relocated to the Hill Country and was introduced to Tex-Mex, I saw I'd been missing out. Fresh Mex emphasizes seafood and fresh herbs. Tex-Mex goes heavy on beef, with a little chicken and pork thrown into the mix. I've had fun playing with recipes and adding to my cooking repertoire."

"You should taste Braden's chicken tortilla soup," Ivy told Ry. "It's better than any bowl you'll get at a restaurant. If Braden wasn't our family's chief winemaker, I'd encourage him to open his own restaurant."

Ry grinned. "You're speaking my love language when it comes to tortilla soup. Do you ever share your recipes, Braden?"

"I'm happy to do so. Finley also shares, but hers are a little harder to follow."

Finley laughed. "I have a basic recipe, then I simply toss in a little of this and some of that. Unlike Em, I don't measure anything. And my one hard and fast rule? Double the cheese in any recipe."

Emerson said, "Baking is different from the meals you and Braden prepare for us. The difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon of baking powder in a dessert can totally change its taste, texture, and baking time."

"That's why you taught math and science," Finley told her former roommate. "I was a little more freewheeling in the classroom."

"Two plus two will always equal four," Emerson said. "Yes, there are different ways to get to that final sum. One plus three. Two plus two. One times four. Five minus one. But that's what math is all about. Precision. Same as baking."

Braden said, "Winemaking is a blend of both of those. Yes, I go by established amounts as I'm blending grapes. Then, there are times I need to go with my gut and taste as I add a little of one wine and some more of another to create the different wines for the current season."

Talk through dinner range from wine to politics to entertainment and sports. Ry felt at home with this group, as if he'd known them for years. He noticed not only the easy camaraderie between everyone, but he also observed how the three married couples interacted with one another. They weren't just in love with each other. They all seemed as if they were best friends with their spouses. If these three couples could find happiness, it gave him hope that he could, as well.

He glanced at Emerson, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she was talking about a book she'd recently read. She and Holden were going back and forth about the protagonist and his ability to solve the crime which was central to the novel's plot. Ry would need to read one of Holden's books. Harper had even mentioned a movie had been made out of one of them, so that would be fun to watch. He decided to ask Emerson if she had a copy of Holden's book or if she might want to stream the film with him. That would be a low-key date, an activity he hoped she wouldn't object to.

In the army, Ry hadn't had time for leisure reading. Or leisurely anything. While he'd been a mediocre student, he'd always enjoyed getting lost in a book and was ready to pick up that habit again.

"I'm ready for that tempting dessert," Dax told the group.

Harper stood. "Let's get everything cleaned up. Emerson can get dessert ready for us."

He glanced to her. "Can I help you with that?"

"All right," she said softly.

Everyone took their plates into the kitchen. Holden and Dax took over, rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher, while Braden and Harper sealed the leftovers and placed them in the fridge. Finley made sure everyone had fresh drinks. Ry noticed Ivy turned down sangria and asked for sparkling water instead.

Ivy then brought dessert plates to the island, saying, "I can't wait to see what you've brought tonight, Emerson."

While the others were cleaning up, Emerson had taken the items she'd brought from the freezer and fridge.

She handed him the carton of Blue Bell and said, "Microwave this for eleven seconds. Lid off."

Ry laughed. "Eleven seconds exactly? Not ten or twelve."

"I know what I'm doing," she said, "I told you. It's all about being exact."

"I learned how to follow orders in the army. Eleven seconds, coming up."

The others returned to the dining room, leaving them alone in the kitchen. Ry retrieved the ice cream and microwaved it before bringing it back to Emerson, who had opened her containers and placed taco shells made of chocolate on each plate.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "I've never seen a chocolate taco shell before."

"It's actually a lace cookie which I folded right as they came out of the oven. They were warm enough for me to shape and then dip in chocolate before I rolled the edges in sprinkles."

Spooning ice cream into the first shell, she said, "That's the amount of ice cream needed in each taco shell. Are you up to the task, Soldier?"

"You bet."

Ry took over the ice cream portion, with Emerson following behind, squeezing chocolate syrup and drizzling caramel on top of the ice cream before placing a dollop of whipped cream as a finishing touch.

"These are a work of art," he declared. "You are really creative."

She blushed. "Thank you. Let's take the plates into the dining room."

Emerson picked up two plates, but Ry was able to set two on his forearm and carry one in each hand.

"I'd be afraid I'd drop them if I tried to carry them that way," she said.

"Part of my army training," he said, laughing. "Cook and carry."

Everyone exclaimed how beautiful the tacos were, and silence followed, all conversation ceasing as people bit into their desserts. A few moans and groans were heard around the table.

"You've outdone yourself, Em," Finley said. "This may be my favorite dessert yet."

"It's so simple," Emerson said. "And you can really stuff them with whatever you want. If I try this again, I might go with pecans or walnuts. Some fruit. Cherries or raspberries might be nice."

"If you brought these every time, I'd never get tired of them," Braden said. "They're the perfect way to cap off a meal."

Once everyone had finished their desserts, the group went into full cleanup mode again. Ry supposed they did so without having to think, the division of labor occurring over weeks of sharing meals together. As he expected, goodnights were then said. Holden had to be on set by seven tomorrow morning. Dax said he jogged mornings before he arrived at Java Junction, which opened at six each day. Ivy said she always got up early with Dax and then headed to her studio to paint for several hours before showing up for her shift at the winery's tasting room.

After they said their goodbyes and got into the car, Ry said, "You were right. It's a true early bird group."

"We enjoy meeting and eating, and everyone is very understanding about the need for things to break up early. Harper is really the only one who doesn't go into work until nine or ten each morning, and she puts in long hours on the weekends. I know Braden gets to the vineyards or his lab early."

"Your dessert was the hit of the night," he complimented. "Blackwood BBQ only had two desserts on the menu when I left for the army. Peach or apple cobbler."

She chuckled. "That's still what they serve. No additions."

"Maybe I can talk Dad into expanding his horizons where dessert is concerned. It might help him warm up to some of the changes I might want to bring."

"What are those?" she asked as he pulled into her driveway.

"I'd rather show you— and let you sample some of them —rather than merely tell you about them." Pausing a moment, he gazed at her until her eyes met his. "Would you have time this weekend for some taste testing? Maybe Friday? And maybe watching the movie of Holden's book? I've never seen it before. Hell, I've never even read either of his books. I'd hadn't heard of him before I met him. Then again, the army doesn't give you time for reading."

Emerson worried her bottom lip, causing desire to surge through him. "I need to set up cakes at a wedding on Friday."

"Do you have to stay around and serve them, too?"

"No. Harper has assistants who help with food service or supervise anyone whom the bride has designated to be a cake cutter."

"So, you'd be free once you did your setup?" he nudged.

"Yes. I could be home by six. If… if you'd like to come over then."

"That would be terrific," he said eagerly. "I can bring a few items for you to try. Would you be willing to give me free rein in your kitchen? I promise I'd clean up."

"Yes," she said, her voice strong, as if she'd come to a decision about him.

"Thank you, Emerson," he said, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

Ry wanted to do a lot more, but he wasn't about to scare her off at this point.

Her face flamed, and he thought it sweet she blushed so easily.

"Let me walk you to the door," he offered, going around and helping her from the car, taking the canvas bag from her hand as he escorted her up the sidewalk, his hand resting against the small of her back.

They reached the porch. She turned, taking the bag from him.

"I appreciate you driving me to dinner tonight."

"I was happy to do so. I hope you feel a little more relaxed in my company now."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have invited you over to cook," she said bluntly.

"Good. I'm looking forward to Friday," he told her.

While Ry wished he could see her before then, he didn't want to demand too much of her too soon. As it was, he now was spending Friday night in her company. Cooking for her. Talking with her. Maybe even exchange a few kisses.

"I'll see you at six then. Goodnight, Emerson."

He turned to go, but she caught his elbow, pulling him back. Ry looked at her questioningly and was shocked when her hands went to his face, cupping it, pulling him down. Her lips brushed his quickly in a soft kiss, and then she released him.

"Goodnight, Ry."

Before he could speak, she unlocked the door and was already inside, the door closing.

He stood on the porch a moment, a bit dazed, thinking the kiss a bold move on her part.

And deciding he might also make a bold move or two come Saturday night.