Marriage On The Cards. Susan Carlisle
shot her a quizzical look before he laughed. “Yes...you’re right. She is very energetic.”
They reached her storefront and Mackenzie pulled the keys out of her tote bag. “Well...this is me. Thanks for walking me back.”
“Are you heading home or sticking around here?”
She slipped the key into the lock. “I have some work to do before I head home.”
Mackenzie opened the door and walked quickly to the alarm keypad. She punched in the code and the beeping sound stopped. The only light in the front of the bakery was from the cases that had been emptied the night before by Molly.
“Thank you again for making sure I got here safely,” she said to Dylan, who had followed her in and locked the door behind them. “But I’m sure you’ve got things to do. I’ll be fine here by myself.”
Sometimes she liked to come to the bakery after hours just to have some time alone—Ray and Charlie were always happy to watch Hope for her. She liked the bakery when it was quiet and dark the way it was now. She could be by herself with her thoughts while she baked. It was therapeutic, especially when she had something worrisome on her mind.
He knew she was politely trying to send him on his way, but he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He was enjoying her company. He felt relaxed around her; she made him laugh in a way that most women didn’t.
“My schedule’s pretty clear, actually. How about a quick tour?”
He heard her let out her breath and knew she was about to cave. “There’s not much to see...and I really do have work that I’ve got to get done.”
“I promise I’ll stay out of your way...” He held up one hand as if he was taking an oath.
For the second time that night, Mackenzie gave in to Dylan’s persistence. She was wasting time talking to him when she really needed to be working on the cupcakes. Molly had called to tell her that they were about to run out of one of their bestsellers, red velvet with cream cheese frosting. It was her mother’s recipe, so she guarded it. She was the only one who made them; she needed to make several large batches and freeze some of them for later.
“I could help you,” Dylan offered.
Mackenzie slipped into her white baking coat. “You can help me by sitting over there and not moving.”
He smiled at her no-nonsense way of bossing him around her kitchen and obediently sat down on a stool out of the way. It was interesting to see Mackenzie in her element. Here, in the kitchen, she was absolutely sure of herself. She gathered the ingredients for the cupcakes first, and then measured each ingredient carefully before adding them, one by one, to an industrial mixer. While the batter mixed, she prepared the baking pans, deftly dropping specially designed Nothin’ But Cupcakes cupcake cups into the pans. In the zone now, she didn’t even seem to notice that he was sitting nearby.
Dylan had never really cared about watching someone cook before, but watching Mackenzie was different. He was fascinated by how easily she moved from one area of the kitchen to the next; it was like watching a well-choreographed dance.
“What kind of frosting are you going to make?” he asked.
Mackenzie glanced up at him, with a somewhat surprised expression in her pretty eyes. He had been so quiet, and she had been so focused, that she forgot for a moment that she wasn’t alone.
“Cream cheese.” She switched off the mixer and then set to the task of filling the cupcake pans.
Once the cupcakes were baking in the ovens, she made the frosting, which she could store in the refrigerator until morning. Now all she had to do was wait for the cupcakes to cook and cool. With a satisfied sigh, hands on hips, Mackenzie nodded to herself. Then she looked over at Dylan, who hadn’t really bothered her at all.
“Do you like cream cheese frosting?”
Dylan had been leaning on one elbow. He sat upright. “Yes. I do.”
Mackenzie took a large spoon out of a drawer, scooped up a large helping of freshly made frosting and handed it to him. Dylan ate all the frosting at one time; he closed his eyes happily and then licked the spoon before he handed it back to her.
“Good?” she asked, but she could tell by his smiling lips that he approved.
“Mackenzie...” he said seriously. “You are an artist.”
His sincere praise for her baking made her entire body smile. When someone truly enjoyed her baking, it made the struggle to keep her business afloat worth it. Mackenzie felt herself relaxing with Dylan; after all, this wasn’t the first time he had loitered in her kitchen. He was always hanging around with Jett when she had baked with her mother.
“Do you want to wait for the cupcakes to finish baking? I’ll frost one just for you.”
He looked more like the young boy she remembered when he asked, “Just one?”
* * *
The month after he first met his daughter sped by for Dylan. And even though he hadn’t intended to become a regular fixture at Pegasus, that’s exactly what had happened. It started out innocently. It was an opportunity for him to spend time with Hope on the weekends. Then something unexpected happened: the place got to him. The kids, the horses, the other volunteers...the parents...all of them had an impact. He discovered that he was surfing less and mucking out stalls more. He was handy with a hammer and Aggie had him on her radar. On the weekends, he traded his Testoni lace-ups for rubber muckers and his polo button-ups for Pegasus T-shirts. Instead of going out with his friends, he went to bed early on Friday night so he could be up early and fresh for the riders on Saturday morning.
And always, always, there was Hope. She was the main event. He found himself missing her during the week and regretting having to say goodbye on Sundays. He didn’t mind the status quo for now, but this arrangement wouldn’t work in the long term. He wanted to have a say in Hope’s future; he wanted to be her dad.
“Hey...” Mackenzie appeared at the entrance of the feed room. As usual, she was dressed in oversize clothing, long sleeves, and her hair was haphazardly pulled up into a ponytail. Dylan wished she would fix herself up every once in a while.
“Hey...” Dylan pulled a bale of hay off the tall stack in the corner and dropped it on the ground.
“Where’s Hope?”
Dylan used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat that was dripping off his face, exposing his stomach. She was human. She looked. And her eyes latched on to the barely visible trail of hair leading from Dylan’s belly button directly to his...
Dylan dropped his shirt; when she looked up at him, he was smiling at her. His expression told the story; he’d caught her red-handed.
“She’s helping Aggie with Hank—he’s got a pretty nasty gash on his fetlock and you know how he feels about anyone messing with his hooves.” Dylan hoisted the bale of hay onto his shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Mackenzie stepped to the side so Dylan could move through the door. She had watched Dylan closely over the past couple of weekends. She couldn’t deny that he had a special way with all the kids, especially Hope. They all loved him. When they could, they trailed after him, and he was happy to let them. He had become the Pegasus Pied Piper. It was...endearing. And Aggie, who was pretty tough to impress, had come to rely on Dylan as part of her small circle of trusted volunteers.
“Do you feel like lending a hand?” Dylan cut the twine holding the bale of hay together.
“Sure.”
Loaded down with armfuls of hay, Dylan tackled one side of the barn and Mackenzie tackled the other. When Mackenzie reached Hank’s stall, she tossed the hay over the stall fence for the old gelding.
“Hey, Aggie. Time to wrap up, kiddo,” Mackenzie said to Hope, who was watching Aggie treat Hank’s wound. “You