Taste of Tara Page 4

“Did you ride with Frank? He usually drives the town car when Wade and Ashley’s guests want to come into town.”

  Tara nodded. “I believe that was his name. I wouldn’t want them to worry if I don’t show up at the appointed time.”

  Brett pulled his cell phone from his pocket and had a brief conversation with someone who sounded like an old friend. When he hung up, he grinned at Tara. “Frank knows I’ll take you home. Would you like to explore a little since we’re here, anyway?”

  “I’d love it,” Tara said, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

  Five hours later, Brett didn’t want their afternoon together to end.

  They’d ridden on a trolley that gave a tour of the top historic sites in the area, and strolled through Centennial Olympic Park. Brett took several photos of her with her phone so she could send them to her mother.

  After visiting the World of Coca-Cola Museum and the Georgia Aquarium, he tried to talk her into letting him take her to dinner, but she refused. Instead, she bought a box of crème-filled sweet rolls from a nearby bakery. They sat on a bench in the sunshine and ate them, watching people hurry by.

  “Everything seems so busy, so alive, you know?” Tara mused as she finished her pastry and wiped her fingers on a napkin.

  Without thinking, he reached out and brushed a bit of filling away from the corner of her mouth. Her hand stilled and she stared at him. Uncertainty mingled with undeniable attraction in her eyes as their gazes fused.

  He smiled and popped his finger in his mouth, licking away the sweetness. “That was the best bite yet.”

  She blushed and wadded up the napkin in her hands, tossing it in a nearby trashcan. A glance at her watch made her frown. “Oh, my goodness, Brett! I totally monopolized your day and I promise that is not what I intended. I lost track of time while you were showing me around.”

  He stood and held out a hand to her. His heart skipped a beat before resuming the accelerated thumping he’d experienced most of the afternoon in her presence when her soft palm pressed against his calloused skin.

  Unable to put his finger on exactly what, something about Tara really got to him. The woman was smart, witty, and unaffected. She made him laugh, but more importantly, she made him feel.

  “I hope you’ll freely monopolize my time whenever the opportunity arises, Tara,” he said, gently holding her hand as they strolled back toward his pickup. “I had a great time with you today. No matter the circumstances that brought us together, I’m really glad I could spend this afternoon with you.”

  “This afternoon was one of the best I’ve ever had. I can’t thank you enough for not only helping me out of what could have been a disastrous situation, but also showing me so many fun parts of Atlanta.”

  He grinned. “I just showed you some of the touristy parts of town. Next Sunday, I’ll show you a few of my favorite spots in the country.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said, smiling exuberantly. Her smile suddenly faded and she offered him a concerned look. “Are you sure I’m not bugging you? Taking you away from a jealous girlfriend who’ll hunt me down later?”

  His laughter echoed around them. “I promise there is no girlfriend, wife, or anyone who would want to hunt you down. If I’d been in a rush, I wouldn’t have offered to show you around, Tara. I enjoyed it, too.”

  Relieved, she released a long breath then studied the historic buildings they walked past on their way back to where he’d parked.

  On the ride to the plantation, he pointed out historic sites and things he knew about the area. Tara gobbled up every word, eager to learn more about the roots of her temporary home.

  Brett wanted to walk her to the door when they returned to the house, but he thought better of it. If anyone saw him kissing her on the back porch, the rumors would spread like wildfire and that wouldn’t be good for Tara, or anyone involved.

  He stopped his pickup near the back entrance of the house and then held out a hand to her. “Thanks for making my Sunday a little brighter, Tara. It was truly a pleasure to get to know you a little better.”

  She shook his hand, hanging onto it far past the time she could have let go. “Thank you, again, Brett, for rescuing me and being so sweet this afternoon. I enjoyed it immensely and look forward to meeting This and That next weekend, if you’re sure you want to spend more time with me.”

  “More than anything,” he said, bringing her fingers to his mouth and kissing the back of her hand. His gaze fused to hers and he felt himself falling into the warmth of her eyes. Before he completely lost all ability to reason, he released her hand and leaned back. “If you have time off this week and want to meet the horses, give me a call.” He scribbled his cell phone number on a scrap of paper he pulled from the console and handed it to her.

  She took the paper and clutched it in her hand then opened the pickup door. “I might just do that. Have a great week, Brett. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  “Probably,” he said, wishing so many things, but mostly that he didn’t have to tell her goodbye.

  “You know where to find me if you need a cookie or something,” she said, backing up a step then lifting a hand. “Thanks again, Brett. Good night.”

  “Night, Tara.” She shut the door and hurried up the back porch steps, disappearing inside the cavernous house.

  Brett put the truck in gear and drove back to his place, trying to decide what to do about the woman who’d just stolen his heart.

  Chapter Five

  “You want me to what?” Tara asked as she formed rolls from the bread dough she’d just punched down. The yeasty fragrance filled her nose and made her realize she’d yet to eat any lunch.

  “Dress up like Scarlett O’Hara, just for an hour.” Ashley leaned against the counter opposite of Tara. “Would you do it, Tara? I know you love all things related to Gone With the Wind. Would you be willing to do it for our guests? I can have a costume here and get it fitted later today if you agree.”

  Ashley gave her such a pleading look, Tara couldn’t say no. Especially not when the idea of getting to wear a Civil War era gown and pretending to be an iconic fictional character sounded like such fun.

  “What about my work here?” Tara raised a dough-coated hand and glanced around the pastry area of the kitchen.

  “Your assistants can handle things for a few hours. If you agree, I’ll let Stuart know. I’m sure he’d check on them in your absence.” Ashley sounded desperate and willing to do anything to make Tara agree.

  “Can you give me a better idea of what you and the guests expect?” Tara worked quickly, filling pans with the artfully formed rolls.

  “Last night when you came out to check on dessert after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson commented how much you resembled their vision of Scarlett. At breakfast this morning, when you carried in the hot pastries, the Elsing family said something along the same lines. One thing led to another, and several of them asked if you’d be willing to portray Scarlett so they could visit with her for a little while.” Ashley picked a piece of imaginary lint from her muslin skirt. “All you’d have to do is wear the outfit and I’d have someone style your hair. If the weather cooperates, we’d sit out on the veranda tomorrow afternoon around three with refreshments. You could just answer whatever questions they asked. I know you are well versed in the book, the movie, and local history. I promise it would just be for an hour. Please?”

  Tara considered the opportunity to actually step into the shoes of a woman she’d long admired and always wanted to emulate even if common sense and kindness prevented her from doing so. “Okay, I’ll do it, as long as it won’t leave Stuart short-handed.”

  Ashley squealed with such zeal and high-pitched volume, it put Tara in mind of her mother. The woman gave her a brief hug, oblivious to the dough and flour Tara got all over her blouse in the process, and then stepped back with a broad smile. “I promise this will be fun for you, Tara.”

  She smiled, trying to temper her own enthusiasm. “I’m sure it will be, Ashley. T
hank you for thinking of me.”

  That evening, since the weather was nice and the humidity had dropped off considerably, Tara took a book outside and went in search of a quiet spot to read. She stayed out of sight of the main house, wandering along a footpath to the building Ashley used as her design studio. The woman loved all sorts of creative endeavors and kept her supplies there. It also gave her a peaceful place to escape the busyness of the house when they had guests.

  Tara wandered past it and stopped to study a vine she’d learned was called kudzu. It grew with abandon over the fence and around a nearby structure that served as a place to keep garden tools.

  A rather unpleasant smell, one that carried an odor that put her in mind of rank cilantro, filled the air as she trailed her fingers over the vine. Concerned something may have crawled beneath the vine and died, she wrinkled her nose and noticed an army of bugs on the plant. Drab green with brown spots, the bugs looked like mutated ladybugs had rolled in something putrid and flattened out their backs a little in the process.

  Another malodorous whiff defiled the breeze and she felt something tickle her foot. She glanced down and watched a steady stream of bugs crawl across her ballet flats. A shriek escaped her followed by a gasp. She engaged in a series of moves that might have earned her a place in a break dancing contest or, alternately, been mistaken for a poorly executed martial arts performance.

  Male laughter drew her gaze to where Brett stood nearby with a stoop-shouldered older man.

  “It appears you’ve discovered our kudzu bug problem,” the old man said, moving in a slow, rolling gait toward her. He carried a sprayer with him, but stopped long enough to hold out a hand to her in greeting. “I’m Sam. Been taking care of this garden for a long, long time.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sam.” Tara quickly shook his hand then looked down to make sure none of the bugs lingered on her feet.

  Brett leaned down and flicked something off the leg of her jeans. “Perhaps you’d prefer to do a little evening reading somewhere that doesn’t smell quite so bad?”

  “Definitely,” Tara said, smiling at Sam as she moved away with Brett. The old man was already busy spraying insecticide on the bugs. “It was nice to meet you, Sam.”

  “Likewise, miss,” he called, not looking up from his work.

  “Oh, gracious!” Tara buried her nose against her shoulder as the full stench of the bugs permeated the air.

  “Come over here,” Brett said, taking her hand in his and leading her past a small pond full of fish to a bench beneath an old magnolia tree. The blossoms had recently opened and filled the air with their unique floral scent. “Better?” he asked as Tara took a seat on the bench.

  “Much. Thank you.” She smiled as he sat beside her and leaned back. “It seems you are destined to continually come to my rescue.”

  A contented sigh rolled up from his chest as he tipped back the black Stetson on his head and stretched out his long legs in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to rescue a damsel as pretty as you. I should warn you, though, to stay away from the kudzu. The bugs have been out of control this spring. Sam is doing his best to eradicate them, but some days it seems like a losing battle.”

  “They look like an annoying life form from another planet,” she said, shuddering as she thought about them crawling all over her feet. She looked at her shoes to make sure no stray bugs had come along for a ride. As she leaned forward, she caught a trace of their horrible odor and wrinkled her nose again. “That smell is hideous!”

  Brett stood and moved to the other side of the tree then returned with something on his palm. “Rub that on your shoes. It will help mask the smell until it wears off. At least you have on black shoes. Those bugs can stain stuff faster than you can blink.”

  Tara took the mint leaves and rubbed them on her shoes and over the exposed skin of her bare feet. She held the crushed leaves up to her nose and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent. Despite the assault on her olfactory senses by the bugs, she couldn’t help but get a whiff of Brett, too. He smelled of horses and sunshine, and something deliciously rugged that had to be all him.

  Seated just inches away from him made it easy to observe his profile undetected. A square jaw, strong chin, and straight nose with a slight tilt upward on the end fit her ideal of the perfect man. Not only was Brett Cutler incredibly handsome, he was kind and funny, caring and smart. He was also one hot hunk.

  Tara had heard more than a few of the guests and staff commenting about the cutie who handled the horses. She couldn’t argue with them. Brett was someone who drew one or two — oh, who was she kidding — dozens of glances from women. It wasn’t just his handsome face or his broad shoulders and muscled chest. There was a zest for life in his step, an appealing confidence in the way he moved, and gentleness in his steel-blue eyes that didn’t just capture a woman’s attention, but held it.

  However, in light of the fact she’d be heading back to Portland in a few weeks, she needed to curtail her own fascination with the good-looking cowboy and focus on the reason she was here in the first place.

  Brett tapped the book she still held in her hand with his index finger. “What are you reading this evening?”

  Tara held up the book so he could read the title.

  His eyebrows lifted and he stared at her for a moment. “The Guide to Proper Southern Manners does not sound like an evening of fun or light reading. I’m pretty sure you have better manners than most people I’ve met or know, so why’d you choose that?”

  “Thank you for your kind words, sir.” Tara tossed him a coy smile. “Ashley has requested my presence at a historical reenactment tomorrow afternoon, so I thought I better learn all I can before I inadvertently make a mockery of genteel society.”

  Brett shook his head. “What, exactly, did she ask you to do?”

  “Dress like Scarlett O’Hara and let the guests pelt me with questions for an hour. Evidently, a few of them think my dark hair and green eyes make me a perfect candidate to play the part.”

  “Don’t forget the mischievous spark in those gorgeous eyes, or the vitality that oozes from you. More than anything, that’s what puts them in mind of the legendary Scarlett.” Brett leaned to the side, studying her. “If you don’t want to do it, you could tell Ashley no. She’d be okay with it.”

  “I know I could have told her no, but I didn’t want to.” Tara released a nervous breath. “From the time I was old enough to take even a tenuous grasp on the concept of romance, I wanted to be Scarlett O’Hara. I wanted to wear the beautiful gowns and coquettishly charm all the boys, and say whatever was on my mind. Unfortunately, there’s not much call for hoop skirts at culinary school, most boys prefer a pretty girl to a goober, and speaking my mind isn’t something at which I excel. My mother instilled in me far too many rules about being polite.”

  Brett chuckled and draped his arm across the back of the bench behind Tara. She relaxed against him, curious if the heat generated from his proximity might singe her blouse.

  “Which one?” Brett asked, tipping back his head and closing his eyes.

  “One what?” she questioned, confused.

  “Which Scarlett dress are you going to wear? I’m trying to picture it. The infamous drapery dress, maybe? Hmm.” He opened one eye and rolled his head her way. “I think I’d vote for the barbecue dress. The one with all the ruffles…” his hand brushed across his collar bone then dipped further down to illustrate the design he had in mind “…that showed off her, um, assets.”

  “There will be no assets on display, I assure you.” Tara glowered at him then couldn’t help but grin. “I will admit, though, that is my favorite dress. I’ve always wanted to wear that as a Halloween costume, but back to that hoop skirt thing. Not great for getting around in a car or through narrow doorways.”

  His hand settled around her shoulder as he chuckled. He pulled her against his side, then pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. “Tara, you are such an adorable goofball.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks, I think.” She tapped the book she held on her lap. “Can you help me for a few minutes? My friend Ellen and I used to act out entire scenes from the movie when we were silly girls.”

  He gently poked an index finger into her side and she giggled. “Okay, the last time we did it was a month or two ago, but that’s beside the point. I want to make sure I sound like Scarlett. Will you tell me if my accent doesn’t cut it?”

  “Sure.” Brett leaned back and waited for her performance.

  Tara recited a scene that Scarlett ended with “fiddle-dee-dee,” then batted her eyes at him.

  He blinked twice and slowly sat up. “I think that will make the guests quite happy. And if any of the men approach you afterward, I have a Taser at home I can bring for you to stuff into your petticoat.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but thank you, Brett. Are your sure my accent sounds okay?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a southern girl born and raised. You’ll do great. What time is this play-acting supposed to happen?” He rose to his feet and held out a hand to her.

  Tara took it and stood. “Tomorrow at three, on the veranda. I’ve already learned that means the front porch.”

  He grinned and squeezed her hand. “Can you find your way back to the house?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry to take up your time again, Brett. You must think I’m the most helpless, clueless girl on the planet.”

  “Not at all.” He took a step backward and tipped his hat to her with a flourish. “Rest well, my pastry chef in distress. Don’t let the kudzu bugs bite.”

  “Thanks for that creepy visual.” She shivered and turned down the path. “Good night, Brett.”

  The next morning, Tara arose an hour earlier than her normal pre-dawn time to get started on the baking. By noon, she was well ahead of schedule. At one, Ashley appeared in the kitchen and motioned for Tara to join her.

  “Tara, if you want to run up to your room and take a quick shower, I’ll send someone up in about half an hour to get you ready.” Ashley gave her a long look then clapped her hands in excitement. “I can hardly wait for the guests to see you. They’ve been talking about Scarlett paying a visit all morning.”