since that night when he’d thought it “simpler” for the sexual satisfaction to be one-sided. She’d agreed, and then, in silence, they’d picked their way down the cliff in the starlight.
She supposed there wasn’t much more to say, anyway, but...
Had he decided it should stop there because he was concerned she’d make too much of it? Did he worry she might get too attached?
“I’m fine,” she told him again.
Because she didn’t make too much of anything, ever. And army brats knew better than to count on permanence.
Soon they were approaching the Smith ranch. In deference to the expected traffic, she supposed, there were temporary caution signs set up along the way. It made sense, given the hairpin turns, though Vance navigated them smoothly, and soon they were pulling into the sprawling courtyard that lay between the two big houses. At the center was a low stage already crowded with musical instruments and audio equipment. Nearby were long rows of adjoined picnic tables, sunshades erected above them. Vance steered the truck beyond, to the stand of massive oaks. There was enough room between the trunks for vehicles to park, and it was here that the food vendors were setting up for the event. Already she caught a whiff of meats being tended over large grills. Vance set the parking brake and then took a breath. “Showtime,” he murmured.
Layla slid him a sidelong look. He couldn’t be looking forward to this, but you wouldn’t know it from his calm posture. He sat in the seat in his worn jeans, navy blue single-pocket T-shirt, and a beat-up pair of running shoes. Apparently Picnic Day was a casual affair.
She’d counted on that, though she was wearing a dress instead of shorts for this second visit to the ranch. It was a soft cotton, halter-style sundress, with a swirling pattern of umber and gold colors that she thought set off the light tan she’d gained from her days at the beach. She didn’t wear much makeup, opting for a double layer of mascara and a sheer lipstick that held just a hint of bronze.
Flipping down the visor overhead, she checked her face in the mirror.
“You have to know how pretty you are,” Vance said, as if it was a personal insult.
She turned to him, frowning, and he winced, apparently catching his harsh tone. “Sorry,” he said. “I just want this damn day to be over.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Layla agreed. Then she hauled in a deep breath and blew it out. “Shall we get moving then?” Yeah, let’s just get this damn day over with.
They were ready by the noon opening. The awning was erected, the small bistro tables and chairs set out, the cupcakes transferred from the bakery boxes she used for transport to the glass display cases. She and Vance worked well together and he did all that she asked, but the quarters were close and she realized he was being careful not to touch her—or even get too near.
Katie Smith came toward the truck just as the first visitors arrived, dragging a garbage can behind her. Vance hopped out to take it from her. Her face lit up at the sight of him. “You’re free of the wrist brace,” she said, and then her smile turned teary as he bent to kiss her cheek.
“Mom,” he admonished, shaking his head, but she only let out a watery laugh and pushed him away.
“Go find a good place for the can. I want to see your girl’s wares.” Then she perused the selections with great interest. “These look delicious.”
“Would you like one?” Layla asked. The “your girl” had sent her pulse stumbling. She’d had second and third thoughts about Picnic Day and had even considered bowing out altogether, Vance’s cool detachment making it even more difficult to pull off a pretend relationship.
But she’d sympathized with his family dilemma and she’d made a promise to his mother, so she pinned on a smile. “We have our famous devil’s food cupcake, a new lemon flavor that I just started featuring and, in honor of today, a vanilla-avocado cake with milk chocolate frosting.”
Katie blinked in surprise. “Avocado in a cupcake? We’ve used it with zucchini to make a bread, but I’ve not attempted a lighter crumb.”
So she bakes, too, Layla thought, inordinately pleased. “It works. It’s a fat replacement, really. I’m pretty happy with the results.”
“Let me get Vance’s father over here,” Katie said. “He’ll love an avocado cupcake...and I’m sure he wants to meet you.”