Melissa Senate - Rust Creek Falls Cinderella

“I have to have another French dip,” he said. “For the road. It was so good I feel like I should get seven to go for my brothers and dad. In fact, can you take that order?”

She grinned. “Absolutely.”

“Good. Maybe they’ll get off my case about last night’s date and stop asking me all kinds of questions. I tried to tell them we’re just friends, that it wasn’t really a date date, since you were fixed up with Knox. But you know how brothers are.”

Her heart sank to her stomach, so she wasn’t capable of speech at the moment. All she could manage was a deep everlasting sigh of doom.

Why had she let herself believe a nutty fantasy that this man, six foot two, body of Adonis, face of a movie star, a man who could have any woman in this town, would go for the tomboy with red hair who smelled like onions? Why? Was she that delusional?

I love how passionate you are , he’d said more than once in the very short time they’d known each other.

She wasn’t delusional. She was passionate about life—and love, even if she’d never experienced it. She sure knew what incredible heart-pounding lust felt like, though. Because she felt it right now. With Xander Crawford.

This is what it feels like to fall in love. And it was impossible to stop, like a speeding train, even if the object of her affection just told her “it wasn’t a date date” and they were “just friends.”

Just friends.

Get back to earth , she told herself. Go make his seven French dips to go.

“Well, back to work!” she said too brightly, and dashed inside, then realized she’d left him high and dry in the back and he’d have to find his way around to the front of the hotel to return to the dining room.

He’ll manage , she thought as she got back to her station to prepare his order. She saw him sneak and dart through the kitchen, her heart leaping at the quick sight of him. Sigh, sigh, sigh.

“Lily, you’re amazing,” her boss said. “ Seven French dips to go for table three?” Gwendolyn was beaming at her, so at least she had big love at work if not in her personal life.

Forget Xander Crawford and focus on where you want to be next year: owning your own catering shop or little café, whisking your customers away to home.

Sure. As if she could forget Xander for a second.

Chapter Three

“Am I right?” Xander asked his brothers and father as they sat on the backyard patio of the Ambling A, gobbling up their French dips. “Is this incredibly delicious or what?”

The Crawfords were so busy eating they barely stopped long enough to agree. Knox held up his beer at Xander. Hunter said he wanted two more.

“I’ll tell you what I’m right about,” his father said, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. “That you went to Maverick Manor for lunch just so you could see the pretty chef again. Admit it.”

“Yeah, admit it,” Finn said with a grin.

What was that old line? No good deed went unpunished? No way would he ever bring these gossips a good lunch again! “I went because I was hungry . So how’s the roof on the barn coming, Logan?” he asked his eldest brother, hoping the others would shut the hell up.

“Logan, tell Xander instead how wonderful married life is,” his dad said. “Someone special to come home to at the end of a long, hard day.”

Oh, brother. Literally.

Logan laughed, finishing the rest of his French dip and taking a sip of his beer. “First, that was damned good. Compliments to your chef, Xan.”

“She is not my chef!” Xander shouted.

Six Crawfords laughed. One stewed in his chair.

“Second, Dad is right,” Logan said. “Finding Sarah changed my life. Nothing beats coming home to her every night, waking up to her every morning. And raising that cherub Sophia with her? I feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

Huh. Xander eyed his brother. He was dead serious, heart-on-his-sleeve earnest.

“All of you are going to be that lucky, too,” the Crawford patriarch said. “You know, I had to be both mother and father to you boys. I didn’t always get it right. I guess I want just to see you all settled down and happy. I want you to have everything you deserve. All the happiness.”

Logan put a hand on his dad’s shoulder.

“To happiness,” Finn said, raising his beer. “I’m into it.”

“Even Knox can’t not toast to that,” Hunter said.

Xander eyed the always-intense Crawford brother. Knox raised his beer again with a bit of a scowl. Knox had thanked him for going out with Lily in his place, then had grimaced when Max Crawford said, “Now that you’re over being stubborn about it, there are a hundred more single beauties out there, Knox, ole boy.”

“First of all, I’m still not going out with anyone,” Knox had said. “Secondly, there probably aren’t a hundred people in this town, Dad,” he’d added, and had made himself scarce until he smelled the French dips.

Rust Creek Falls was tiny, less than a thousand residents, but nine hundred fifty of those had to be single women. Or at least that was how it had felt ever since Max Crawford had announced—erroneously!—that his six sons were looking for wives.

“Xander, you should probably make a reservation at the Manor for dinner now, just in case,” Max said with a grin. “Find out if your chef is working first, though.”

Xander got up, tossing his wrappers in the trash can. “I think I hear one of the calves calling for me.” He headed for the barn, the too-familiar sound of his brothers’ laughter trailing him.

His chef. Hardly!

“Mmm, mmm,” he heard his dad say as he rounded the barn. “This roast beef takes me right back to Texas. Coulda ordered it from Joey’s Roadhouse, am I right?”

Xander smiled. Told you . He’d been taken by surprise as bits and pieces of memories had popped into his mind while eating at the restaurant. Just flickers that he thought he’d forgotten: Logan threatening a bully on his behalf. Knox telling their dad off when he thought their dad was being unfair with Xander about something. The constant runs to the grocery store for milk since six growing boys could finish a gallon after one cold-cereal breakfast. Christmas after Christmas, each boy picking a brother’s name from the Santa hat to buy for, the three years in a row that he got Hunter.

His mother in a yellow apron.

Now it was his turn to scowl. He didn’t often think about his mom. He didn’t remember much about her, just maybe the thought of her. There were few pictures of Sheila Crawford in the family photo albums; he had no idea what his dad had done with the rest of them. Max had probably stored them up in the attic, leaving just a few for the boys to have some idea what their mother had looked like. Logan, Xander and Hunter remembered her the most but even they had been too young to hold a picture of her in their minds. Somehow, Xander did remember the yellow apron. And long brown hair.

A calf gave out a mini moo and he shook his head to clear his mind. All this thinking of home and his family’s ribbing him about “his chef” nicely contradicted each other. Thinking about his mother reminded him that marriage didn’t work out. That even the people you could count on to love you, by birthright, could leave. Just walk away without looking back. Between that and finding his girlfriend and best friend in bed, he gave a big “yeah right” to happily-ever-after.

“Yoo hoo! Anyone home?” a very female, high-pitched voice called out.

Xander came out of the barn to find an attractive, curvy blonde, just his type, he had to admit, smiling at him as she walked over from her car. “Hi, can I help you?”