One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(36)
“Clearly. You don’t have to cook for me, if that’s contributing. I can—”
“No, geez. That’s not it. I love cooking for you. I love feeling like I’m helping to nourish your baby, in my own Auntie Emily way. It makes me feel closer to you than ever and I love it. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”
“I know. I love it, too.” She took Emily’s hands and moved them to her belly. “He’s moving a lot right now. Feel that?”
Beneath Emily’s palm, Carina’s belly undulated like a massage chair. “I feel it.” To Carina’s belly, she added, “Hi, Baby Decker. It’s Auntie Emily again. You sure are making your mommy eat weird foods.”
Feeling the baby move was all it took to put Emily’s life and future back into perspective. She couldn’t imagine not being near Carina and her new baby when it was born. She needed this job at the restaurant to work out. It had to. She couldn’t resign herself to being some hotshot chef’s line cook and she couldn’t move to a big city in search of work. Briscoe Ranch was her home. After so many years fighting for a foothold in the world, she was loath to endure being adrift and poor again, away from the people she loved and who loved her back.
She rested her ear against Carina’s belly and listened to the baby move, the reminder she needed to keep her eye on the prize. Getting laid and lusting over Knox and all other manners of self-sabotage were off the menu. From here on out, Emily was all business, all the time. To test herself, she thought the word X-rated again, and when an imagined vision of Knox’s bare chest popped into her mind, she smashed it down like a Whac-A-Mole.
“So what gives? Why aren’t you working today?” Emily asked. Carina’s wedding gown design business had been booming since she’d opened it two years earlier, and with Briscoe Ranch’s winter wedding season about to kick off, Emily was surprised to see Carina lolling about. Carina had never been a loller.
Carina shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it, and I didn’t have any pressing matters to attend to, so I gave myself the day off.”
Good for her. “You and I were always workaholic twinsies, and now look at you.”
Carina’s eyes found Decker in the arena. Warmth and love radiated from her every cell. “I know. Look at me.”
As though he felt his wife’s eyes on him, Decker turned the horse around and cantered it across the arena to where Emily and Carina were.
As long-time employees at the resort, Emily had known James Decker, who went by his last name as a tribute to his late father, as long as she’d known Carina. He was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome cowboy—who also took the prize for most reformed incorrigible bachelor at the resort. Back in his heyday, his reputation for hard drinking and partying was legendary in hill country. Emily had been a firsthand witness to his transformation to a family man who only had eyes for Carina, whom he doted on as though it were his life’s work. “Hey, Decker.”
“Hey, Em. What’s new? You look tired. My wife running you ragged with her weird food cravings?”
“Emily has a new man to cook for,” Carina said.
“Shut your pie hole,” Emily said, giving Carina’s ribs the gentlest of nudges.
“That would be your cousin Knox, right?” Decker asked. “Seems like a decent guy. He told me point blank that he doesn’t plan on messing with my equestrian center in his expansion plan for the resort, so that’s a good start.”
“Definitely, and speaking of him,” Emily said. “You know how to fish, right?”
“‘Course I do. I don’t get to go as often as I like, but sure. Why?”
“I need you to teach Knox. Lake Bandit has all these huge, aggressive fish in it, and at dinner on Tuesday, Granny June told Knox and me about how Clint and his buddy used to fish the lake all the time. Knox said he’s never learned how to fish, so I suggested you as a teacher. I need him to catch a fish because I got this burst of inspiration about taking farm-to-table to the next level for Knox. I figure, if I can target his sentimentality by cooking with the same type of fish his father probably caught and ate a million times, then—”
Carina’s smile turned knowing, so Emily clammed up. She was rambling, but that was nothing new. “What?”
“I love it when one of your clients bring out your passion. Yeah, it turns you a little crazy sometimes, but that’s the price you pay for being a culinary artist. Who would’ve guessed my long-lost cousin would end up being your muse?”
Her muse? Damn it all to hell, Carina was right. Emily couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so inspired. But admitting the truth wasn’t going to help her keep that professional distance she so desperately needed. “I don’t need a muse. My muse comes from within. I’m an island.”
“Sure, you are,” Decker said.
Emily ignored his ribbing and Carina’s knowing smile. “Give me a break. My future’s riding on this challenge, so I’d be worried if I wasn’t inspired, given the circumstances.”
Carina looped her arm around Emily’s. “Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe your muse is the challenge, not the client.”
That was it. Had to be. Carina was a genius. All the horrible, confusing feelings Emily was experiencing had a logical reason. While it had been a while since she’d felt such a high level of passion for her cooking, it’d been even longer since she’d experienced anything akin to passion toward a man. No wonder her brain was confusing the two, especially since the challenge involved wowing a powerful, attractive man with her cooking in the privacy of his home, which demanded an intimacy she seldom experienced these days.