Melissa Senate - Rust Creek Falls Cinderella

Today—tonight—was about her love life.

Two short-term relationships were all she had in that department.

She eyed the door. It was 7:00 p.m. on the nose. Lily had been there for five minutes, unfashionably early. She’d changed for the date in the women’s locker room, stashing her work clothes in her locker and putting on her one good dress and one pair of heels and one pair of dangling earrings. She never wore makeup, but Sarah had suggested she try some tonight. So Lily had swiped on Maybelline mascara and sheer pinkish-red lipstick and felt like she was playing dress-up, but she supposed she was. She’d left her long red hair down instead of pulling it into a low ponytail the way she did every day.

Now 7:05 p.m. Knox Crawford was now late. Bad sign? Her stomach gave a little flop. The date clearly wasn’t high enough on his priorities for him to be on time. Oh, cripes—now she sounded like her dad! Maybe she was getting antsy too early. Calm down. Go with the flow. Sip your white wine .

She took a sip...7:09 p.m.

Seven twelve. Humph.

Lily might not be Ms. Confidence when it came to men, but she would never let anyone treat her disrespectfully, and being almost fifteen minutes late for a date was bordering on rude. Right? Her last date was six months ago (no interest on either side) so she wasn’t really up on date etiquette.

Seven fifteen.

“Lily!” came a female voice. “How lovely you look! Job interview here at the Manor? Front desk?”

Trying not to sigh as she smiled up at Maren, a woman she’d gone to high school with, Lily glanced down at her royal blue boat-neck, cap-sleeve shift dress, a cotton cardigan tied around her shoulders, and sandals with two-inch stacked heels. It worked for church and weddings, so she figured it would work for tonight.

“Actually, I have a date,” Lily said, taking another sip of wine. Waiter, bring the bottle!

Maren eyed her up and down. “Oh. Well, have fun!” she said, tottering on her sexy high heels to the main dining room.

Lily looked around the swanky lobby’s bar area at the women sitting with dates or out for drinks and appetizers with girlfriends. Skinny jeans and strappy high-heeled sandals. Form-fitting dresses. Slinky skirts. Everyone looked great and evening-ready. And here she was in her Sunday best.

Oh, Lily, get a clue already!

Seven eighteen. Her stomach flopped again, her heart heading south. She was being stood up. First time she actually “put herself out there,” like her mom always told her to do, and whammo: humiliated.

She could be plopped on her couch at home with Dobby and Harry, her adorable dachshunds, eating leftover linguini carbonara and garlic bread, and instead, she was about to burst into tears. Whatever, she told herself. She’d just go home, work on a recipe, watch a movie, play with Dobby and Harry.

Just as her pep talk started making her feel better, her cell phone rang.

She didn’t recognize the number but she was sure it was her date—or lack thereof. “Hello?”

“Lily, this is Knox Crawford. I’m so sorry I’m not there.” There was some weird background noise as if he was covering the phone with his hand and talking to someone else beside him or something. Double humph. “Look, um, something came up and—”

Oh, did it? Suuure .

“And I’m really sorry but I can’t make it,” Knox said. “I—”

More weird background noise. Weird ocean-roar in the phone as if someone was definitely holding a hand over the speaker. Maybe he had his own female version of Davy Jones there with him. Selena Gomez or Charlize Theron, maybe.

“Hello?” a different male voice said. “Lily? This is Xander Crawford. My brother can’t make it tonight, but I happen to be free for dinner and I’ll be taking his place. See you in five minutes.”

Uh, what ?

“No, that’s okay,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as clogged to him as it did to her. I am not a charity case! The famed ire of the angry redhead? She was about to blow, people! “No worries. Bye!” She clicked End Call and stuffed her phone in her stupid little purse—she hated purses!—stood up, took another long sip of her wine, and stalked back into the kitchen, wondering how a person could feel angry and so sad at the same time.

Xander Crawford. Please. She’d seen him up close and personal and he was too good-looking, too sexy—with a Texas drawl, to boot. She’d clam up and stammer or mumble or ramble, especially because of how weird this all was. And what was she? Someone to pity? The poor stood-up date? No thank you!

She was grateful her fellow cooks and her friend AnnaBeth, a waitress, were all so busy they didn’t see her slip back into the break room. She opened her locker, and a photo of her dogs, one of her beautiful mother, and a restaurant review from the Rust Creek Falls Gazette that had raved about her filet mignon in mushroom peppercorn sauce with roasted rosemary potatoes and sautéed garlic-buttered asparagus reminded her who she was. Lily Hunt. She was meant to be creating magical recipes and figuring out how to get where she wanted to be in a year or two. Not trying to be something she wasn’t: a woman who dated gorgeous, wealthy ranchers the entire town was vying for.

Yes, vying for. There were five Crawford brothers left and, according to Viv, their dad wanted to see them married and settled down, so he’d put the wedding planner on the case to find them the right women. All the single ladies in town had put their names in the hat, and hell, why not Lily, tomboy and all? She was flattered Viv had even asked.

And now some stand-in Crawford was showing up, probably only to save the family name since they were new in town and didn’t want their dating reps to be ruined. Yeah, no thanks.

“Well, Mama,” Lily said, looking at Naomi Hunt’s photo, her red hair all she’d inherited from her sophisticated mother. “I did put myself out there, but it didn’t work this time. Maybe next.” Not that she’d agree to another date anytime soon.

She changed back into her jeans and sneakers with a relieved ahhh , put on her T-shirt and tied her hoodie around her waist. She wiped off the lipstick and put her hair in a low ponytail, closed her locker and headed out the swinging door into the lobby.

Right into the muscular chest of Xander Crawford.

* * *

“I’m so sorry,” Xander said to the young redhead he’d just barreled into. He’d been in such a hurry to catch Lily Hunt that he hadn’t considered that the door into the kitchen might have someone coming through it from the other side. Luckily it hadn’t been a waiter with a tray of entrées. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but her eyes were like saucers and her cheeks were flushed.

Maybe it was hot in the kitchen? “I’m looking for Lily Hunt. Do you know her? She works here as a cook. Is she still around?”

The redhead stared at him, and for a moment he swore she was shooting daggers out of those flashing green eyes. “ I’m Lily Hunt. We met last month in the dining room. I was with my friend Sarah, who’s married to your brother Logan.”

Oh hell. Awkward.

“I’m bad with faces,” he said, which was true. “I’ve met so many people since we moved to Montana that my head’s still spinning.”

Not to mention all the women who’d introduced themselves to him over the past month. Everywhere he went there seemed to be a smiling woman, offering her card—some of which smelled like perfume—and letting him know she’d “just love to have coffee or a drink or dinner anytime, hon.” At first he’d wondered if women were that friendly in every town in the state of Montana. Until he’d realized why women were coming at him in droves. They were coming at all the single Crawfords—thanks to his dad. Maximilian Crawford had made a deal with a local wedding planner to get him them all hitched, and that wedding planner had apparently spoken to every single woman in Rust Creek Falls.