Читать книгу Trusting The Cowboy - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 10
ОглавлениеVic parked his truck beside Lauren’s car and gave himself a moment to catch his breath, center himself. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out over the Rocking M. The house stood on a rise of land overlooking the corrals below. The corrals and pasture eased toward the Saddlebank River on one side and the rolling hills leading to the mountains on the other. So often he had driven this yard, imagining his brother living here
It was the promise he’d held out to Dean and himself that got him through the past ten months.
A way to assuage his own guilt over the fact that he had been too late to get Dean off that rank bronc at the rodeo. As a pickup man, it was Vic’s job to get the riders safely off the horse as soon as he saw they were in trouble.
But Vic had had other things on his mind that day. Other things that drew his attention.
It had only been a few seconds, the smallest moment when Vic made eye contact with Dean’s ex-girlfriend Tiffany sitting in the arena a few feet away. Smiling at her. Thinking about how they could be together again. She had told him that she’d broken up with Dean. She had called out to him just before Dean’s ride and blown him a kiss.
Then Vic had turned his head in time to catch the sight branded into his brain forever.
The bronc Dean was riding spinning away from where he and his horse were, ready. The horse making another turn, crushing Dean’s leg against the temporary panels set up in the arena. Dean’s leg getting caught in the crossbars as the horse pulled away.
Vic still heard his brother’s cries of agony, saw him writhing on the ground in the arena.
The girlfriend walked away from both of them a week later. Dean started walking four months later.
His brother still struggled with resentment and anger over what had happened.
And Vic wrestled with a guilt that gnawed at him each time he saw his brother grimace in pain. Each time he listened to Dean talk about how Tiffany had broken his heart.
Buying Keith McCauley’s ranch was supposed to fix all that.
And now?
Please, Lord, let that piece of paper be somewhere in the house. I need this place for Dean.
The prayer surged upward as he eased out of the truck, heading up the walk, the futility of it clawing at him. He and Jodie had discussed it only briefly, but she hadn’t found any evidence of this agreement.
Maybe she hadn’t searched hard enough, he thought as he trudged up the stairs to the house. Maybe his presence would coax it out of its hiding place.
Keith hadn’t left anything about the lease agreement at Drake’s and he hadn’t given anything to Vic, so the only other place it could be was here. In Keith’s office in the ranch house.
As he sent up another prayer, he knocked on the door.
He heard laughter from within, and he eased out a wry smile. His own house was a somber, sad place. His father’s death a few months ago had only added to the heavy atmosphere looming over the house since Dean came home from the hospital three months before that, disabled and bitter. There’d been no laughter in the Moore household for a long time.
No one came to the door, so he rang the doorbell. Cheerful chimes pealed through the house, then he heard footsteps coming.
He wasn’t surprised to see Jodie answer, her head tipped to one side, her dark hair caught back in a loose ponytail, her bangs skimming eyes so blue they looked unnatural.
They were a different blue than Lauren’s, which were more gray. Cooler.
He shook that thought off. Lauren was attractive, yes, but he had to keep a level head. Too much was at stake to be distracted by a good-looking woman.
“Hey, Vic. Lauren said you were coming,” Jodie said, stepping aside to let him in. “I thought you’d be here sooner.”
“I had to stop at the dealership to get some parts for my horse trailer.” Nestor, who owned the place, had been particularly chatty. Then John Argall stopped in and asked him how Dean was doing and if Vic was coming back to Bible study. Vic had felt bad at the disappointment John had displayed. The past month he had taken on extra work. Work Dean would have done.
He didn’t blame his brother. Dean wasn’t as sure as Vic was that Keith had made proper arrangements to protect their handshake agreement so he went back to work for Jan Peter, a local carpenter. Vic hadn’t signed anything, but Keith had assured him that he had written something up.
He just needed to find it. Then Dean could stop working for Jan and they could start ranching together.
“Come in,” Jodie was saying. “Lauren and I were catching up. She’s trying to talk me out of purple bridesmaid dresses.”
“You’re not looking for my opinion, I hope?”
“I thought you could weigh in. When Lauren has an idea, she’s immovable.”
That didn’t bode well for any negotiations, Vic thought.
“Can’t say I have a lot of expertise in that area. I’m only standing up for Finn, and he told me to wear clean blue jeans.”
“Listen, mister, when it comes to wedding attire, you check with me before you check with my future husband.” But she spoke in a cheerful tone, adding a wink.
He returned Jodie’s smile, wide and open and happy, a much different woman than the one who’d come to Saddlebank with a chip on her shoulder and a cocky attitude. Now, engaged to Vic’s good friend Finn Hicks, she looked relaxed. Happy.
Vic wondered what Jodie thought of the potential buyer of the ranch and if she liked the idea. He was thinking of asking her but quashed that thought as he toed off his boots. He had to figure this out on his own. Bringing Jodie in would only create complications.
He set his scuffed and cracked cowboy boots beside Lauren’s high heels, the contrast making him laugh.
“We’re sitting in the dining room. Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure. Sounds good.” He followed Jodie through the kitchen. His steps slowed as he passed Keith’s office, which was opposite the eating bar of the kitchen, and he glanced inside the open door.
Papers covered the desk that ran along one wall. The filing cabinet’s top drawer was open.
“We’ve been going through Dad’s stuff,” Jodie said, catching the direction of his gaze. “I meant to do it when I first came but thought I would wait till Lauren was here. She’s the organized one.”
He suppressed the question that nagged at him. He had time yet. Lauren might have a buyer all lined up, but she still had to stay at the ranch for two months before she could make a decision.
He followed Jodie to the end of the house. Vaulted ceilings soaring two stories high arched over the living and dining room. Light from the upper windows slanted down into the space. A fireplace made of river rock bisected the far wall, framed by large bay windows overlooking the pasture and the mountains.
To his left a set of stairs led to the loft and a couple of bedrooms above, and the basement with its bedrooms downstairs. He knew the layout of the house because he had spent time here before.
Though all those stairs might not be best for Dean at the moment, his leg would get better. Vic had to believe that. And when he did, it would be a perfect place for his brother to live. A real home.
“Sit down. Ignore the mess,” Jodie said as she padded barefoot to the kitchen. She wore blue jeans, frayed at the cuffs, and a gauzy purple and pink shirt that had tiny bells sewn to the hem. The bells created a happy tinkling sound as she took a mug out of the cupboard and poured him some coffee.
Lauren, in her stark dress and hair still pulled back in a bun, was a complete contrast to her sister. She glanced up from papers strewn over the table. Her dark-framed glasses gave her an austere air. She held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.
Dismissed once again, he thought, remembering their earlier encounter too well.
“Finn told me you’re working the rodeo coming up?” Jodie said, setting the mug of coffee on the table.
“Yeah. Walden was short a pickup man, so I thought I’d help out.” Vic settled in the chair across from Lauren, taking the cup with a smile of thanks.
“You always were a pickup artist,” Jodie joked as she sat as well and shuffled through the papers in front of her.
“Oldest joke in the book,” Vic groaned.
“I feel like I should know what a pickup man is,” Lauren said, slipping her glasses off her face and setting them on the table.
“See that, Vic?” Jodie said, her voice holding a note of admiration. “That’s why I should wear glasses. People think you’re all smart and important. And when you take them off, it looks like you’re getting ready to do business. People take glasses-wearing people seriously.”
Vic chuckled as Lauren shot her sister a wry look. “You should take that show on the road,” Lauren said.
“It’s my only joke,” Jodie said with a grin. “Wouldn’t take me far.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have more you could add to your repertoire,” Lauren said, smiling back at her sister.
“You’d have to come with me as my straight man, though. A role you play to perfection.”
Lauren laughed again and Vic couldn’t look away. She was a beautiful woman in her own right. But now, relaxed, smiling, a glint of humor in her eyes as she teased her sister, the light from the window behind her lighting her hair, she was luminous.
He groaned inwardly as he took a sip of his coffee, frustrated with his response to this woman. He was here to talk business and he was coming up with mental compliments?
“Getting back to my original question, what is a pickup man?” Lauren asked.
Vic waited for Jodie to answer, but she was frowning at a piece of paper, seemingly unaware of her sister’s question. So Vic replied.
“We ride along the outskirts of the arena during the rough stock events—bareback, saddle bronc, bull and steer riding. We help the guys off the horses if we can, make sure the bulls and horses get out of the arena safely. That kind of thing.”
“I see,” said Lauren, the vague tone of her voice conveying her lack of interest.
“I know Walden is glad you’ll be there,” Jodie said. “He told me you guys work well together.”
“Who’s Walden?” Lauren asked.
“The other pickup man,” Vic said. “We always work in pairs.”
“You’ll have to come to the rodeo, Lauren. See Vic in action,” Jodie said. “And that horse that Finn trained. Adelaide, one of his clients, will be riding it in the barrel riding competition.”
“We’ll see how that works out.” Lauren’s polite smile seemed to dismiss that line of conversation. She slipped her glasses on her face and it was back to business. “We’ve been looking through our father’s papers and so far haven’t found anything referring to your deal.”
Vic glanced down at the folders lying on the table between them, resisting the impulse to riffle through them himself. “Your father and I agreed on a lease-to-buy agreement,” Vic said, struggling to keep his tone even. Pragmatic. “Are you sure he didn’t say anything about that to you or make a note of it anywhere?”
Lauren shook her head, picking up another file and opening it. “We haven’t seen everything yet, mind you, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Are there any files left? Did he have anything on the computer?”
Lauren frowned as she held his gaze. “Dad didn’t do much on the computer,” she said, dismissing that possibility. “Besides, we couldn’t figure out the password on it. I don’t suppose you would know?”
“Not a clue. Did you try the horses’ names?”
“Yeah. And his birth date, our birth dates—though I doubt he remembered them anyway—and in a pinch his and Mom’s anniversary. The name of the ranch. Nothing.”
“I can’t help you there.” He didn’t know Keith that well.
“Even if we could log on, I doubt there’s anything there, and even there was documentation, if it wasn’t signed...” Her voice trailed off.
Annoyance snaked through him. It was so easy for her to dismiss his claim. She didn’t know what was at stake.
“Would you mind if I looked through the papers myself?”
Her lips tightened and he wondered if she was afraid he might find something that would help his case. He held her eyes, as if challenging her, then she looked at Jodie.
“What do you think?” she asked her sister.
“I don’t care,” Jodie said with a shrug. “If Vic has a claim, maybe we need to see if we can find evidence for it. He might know better what he’s looking for.”
Lauren nodded and turned back to Vic, taking her glasses off again, ignoring Jodie’s chuckle at her action. “I doubt you’d find what you want. But if we don’t discover anything, I’m willing to sell the ranch to you, provided you can match the buyer’s price.”
“What price is that?”
When she named it, Vic’s mouth fell open as blood surged to his throat and chest, threatening to choke off his breathing.
There was no way he could meet that amount, but there was also no way he was telling her that. He swallowed hard and tried to claim some remnants of composure.
“I’ll have to talk my banker,” he said, attempting to inject some confidence into his voice. “But before I do that, I’d like to make sure that there is absolutely no evidence of the agreement. And I’d like to look for myself.”
Lauren gave him a tight nod. “I guess that’s fair, though, like I said, we didn’t find anything. You’d have to come here, though. To look at the papers. And one of us will have to be here.”
“You don’t trust me?” The words burst out of him before he could stop them.
Way to create a good impression.
Jodie patted him on the shoulder. “We trust you, Vic.” She turned to Lauren. “I trust him. He’s Finn’s friend and a good guy.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Lauren said, her mouth twisting in a cool smile. “I don’t trust any man.” Then she turned to Jodie. “But as far as his agreement with our father is concerned, there are other factors at play. If he finds something that corroborates his claim, it’s best that it happens here with us watching. That way no one can challenge it.”
He. His. She spoke of him as if he suddenly wasn’t there.
Vic took another sip of his coffee, reminding himself that he just had to get through this.
And, more than ever, he had to find some evidence of the deal he and Keith had drawn up.
There was no other choice.
* * *
“Confess. You think he’s cute.” Jodie plinked out a few more bars of her new composition on the piano in the corner of the living room and turned to her sister, grinning that smirk of hers that Lauren knew was trouble.
Lauren sent her sister a warning look over her laptop. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think he was attractive, but it’s irrelevant.” She turned her attention back to the purchase agreement the lawyers had drafted, sent to her by her future partner, Amy.
Part of her mind balked at the price tag, but it was an investment in building clients and staff. All of which would cost more to gather if they started from scratch.
“How is it irrelevant?” Jodie got up from the piano and fell onto the couch across from her. She dropped her feet on the coffee table, looking as if she was settling in for one of the heart-to-heart chats she loved.
“Don’t put your feet on the table,” Lauren chided.
“Don’t be Dad,” Jodie shot back, but her smile showed Lauren she hadn’t taken her seriously.
Lauren sighed and closed her laptop. Clearly she wasn’t getting anything done tonight.
“I think you should sell the ranch to Vic,” Jodie said. “He’s put a bunch of work into it and I’m sure he wants to buy it for Dean.”
“I’m not averse to selling the ranch to him,” Lauren said, slipping her reading glasses into their case. “If he can even match Alex Rossiter’s offer, he can have it. But I doubt he can. When I told him what Alex was paying, I thought he would keel over.”
Jodie twisted a strand of hair around her finger. Though her frown was partially hidden by her long bangs, it wasn’t hard to read her dissatisfaction.
“I can tell you don’t like the idea,” Lauren continued. “I’m not alone in this, you know. The ranch is one-third yours.”
“I know. Trouble is, I think you’re right in saying that Vic can’t match what Alex would pay you.” Jodie took her feet off the table and set them on the couch, lounging sideways. “What does that Alex guy want with the ranch?”
“He owns property in the Caribbean and now he wants a ranch.”
“A hobby ranch. To add to his collection.” Jodie’s voice held a faint sneer that Lauren chose to ignore. She wasn’t wild about the idea, either. She would prefer to see it sold as a working ranch to someone personally invested in the property.
Someone like Vic.
“I think he sees the ranch as more of an investment,” Lauren said. “But the stark reality is I need every penny of my third to buy into this new business. It’s a huge opportunity I can’t afford to let go. And if Vic needs the land base, he could lease it from Alex and run his cows.”
“It’s not the same. Alex would have all the control.”
Lauren understood Jodie’s concern. Wasn’t that the very reason she was buying this business—so she could have control over her own life instead of depending on the whims of employers?
And worthless fiancés?
“I can’t believe you would want to buy an accounting firm.” Jodie shifted her position, curling her legs under her. She could never sit still long. “Why don’t you just start your own accounting business? Just you. Why buy in to this one?”
“Because I need clients and I can’t take any of the accounts I brought into Jernowicz Brothers or the last firm I worked at with me to a new business without being sued, and it would take too long to build up a new customer base. Even one-third of the amount Alex is willing to pay, after taxes, is barely enough for my buy-in. But I can’t pass this up. It would mean a substantial income down the road, which means independence in many ways.”
“And that’s important to you.” Jodie’s words were more comment than condemnation.
It was important, Lauren thought, but not in the way that Jodie was implying. Not because money was the end-all and be-all for her.
After being dumped at the altar only to discover that she’d been lied to and milked dry by her ex-fiancé, then, in the past couple of months, fired by her most recent boss, Lauren needed some control in her life. Though Jodie knew about the canceled wedding, she knew little about the amounts of money Lauren had set aside to get the business she and Harvey had hoped to start on their own. She’d worked at Jernowicz Brothers, disliking every minute of the high-pressure job, while Harvey got things together for their eventual departure from the firm.
When he’d left her at the altar, he’d not only broken her heart, he had broken their bank account. The money they had set aside for the start of their new business had disappeared with him.
But she was too ashamed to tell Jodie that. She had always been the good example of what hard work could do. She wasn’t about to share how badly Harvey had duped her.
With anyone.
“It’s important to me to establish my independence,” Lauren said instead. “I’ve lived enough of my life for other people—” She stopped there, not wanting Jodie to think that she resented the time she’d spent taking care of her. Taking care of their grandmother.
“You’ve done enough of that,” Jodie agreed. “And I can understand that you’d want that, but I know enough of Vic that he wouldn’t make this claim lightly. And if we find something to prove Vic’s claim—” Jodie pressed, clearly unwilling to let this go.
“We haven’t yet, and I doubt Dad would have hidden a paper like that away.”
“He didn’t exactly make the letters he wrote to us easy to find.”
“They weren’t hard to find, either,” Lauren said, stifling a yawn. It had been a long, tiring day. Her head ached from thinking and phoning and planning and from reading her father’s letters.
After his cancer diagnosis, their father had written each of the girls a letter apologizing for his behavior to them. It had been emotionally draining reading his words.
Though regret dogged her with every sentence her father had penned, she couldn’t forget the tension that had held them all in a complicated grip each time they came to visit. He alternated between domineering and absent, angry and complacent. Though Lauren was sad he was gone, his loss didn’t create the aching grief losing her mother and grandmother had.
But knowing that he did care, that he had felt bad about their relationship, had eased some of the residual bitterness from their time together.
“So what did you think about what Dad wrote?” Jodie asked. “Do you feel better about him now?”
Lauren reached over to the coffee table and picked up the handwritten letter Jodie had given her shortly after she’d arrived.
“I never had the issues with Dad that you did,” Lauren said. “We never fought like you guys did, so I don’t think I had as much to forgive him for. Knowing that he had sent money to Mom after their divorce helps. Mom always made it sound like he didn’t support her and us at all. I don’t want to get all psychoanalytical, but I think his absence in our lives, and how he treated us when we were here, had repercussions for all of us.”
“Probably. Even Erin, who has always toed every line in her life, followed every rule without questioning, has had her relationship issues.” Jodie shifted herself on the couch again. “I thought for sure she and that doctor guy she was dating would get married, but they broke up over half a year ago.”
“She say anything to you about why they broke up?”
“Not a word. I know she’s secretive, but she’s been freaking me out with the radio silence she’s been maintaining.” Jodie sighed.
“I know, but at least she’s staying in touch.”
“If you want to call the occasional two-word text with emoticons staying in touch.”
“It’s better than nothing.” Lauren had her own concerns about Erin, but she also knew her twin sister. Erin was a quiet and private person, something their ebullient younger sister didn’t always understand. When she wanted to talk, she would. “You have Finn now, and it looks to me like you’ve found a place to settle after all the wandering you’ve been doing.”
“I have. I’ve learned many things about myself over the years, and Finn has helped me through a lot. He makes me feel...complete. Loved. Treasured.”
“I’m happy for you,” Lauren said, trying hard to keep the note of envy out of her voice. She knew how unworthy Jodie had felt for much of her life. Lauren could identify all too well and was thankful her sister had found someone. Was thankful Jodie dared trust someone again.
She wasn’t sure the same could happen to her.
“Oh, Lauren. I’m sorry,” Jodie said, sitting up, instantly contrite. “I shouldn’t be...all...happy and stuff.”
“Of course you should,” Lauren hastened to assure her. “I am happy for you. So happy. You had so many disappointments in your life. You deserve this.”
“Don’t know if deserve is the right word, but I am grateful,” Jodie murmured. She gave Lauren a reassuring smile. “There’s someone for you. I just know it.”
“There might well be,” Lauren said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I don’t want or need another relationship.”
Jodie nodded, but Lauren saw her glance at the diamond ring on her finger. Her satisfied and peaceful smile created a nasty twist of jealousy.
At one time Lauren had worn a ring, too. At one time she had been making wedding plans.
She wasn’t ready to go there again. Between her father’s neglect and anger, and Harvey’s lies, and her past bosses’ treatment, she’d had enough.
But your father apologized.
She held that voice a moment, realizing that the apology had gone a long way to helping her settle the past.
However, he still had placed conditions on them. And as she fought a touch of resentment over that, a picture of Vic sitting across from her, holding her gaze, slipped into her mind. She knew Vic wasn’t letting go of his claim on the ranch until he knew, without a doubt, that her father hadn’t written anything up.
Which meant he would be around more than she liked. Not that she was attracted to him. She was never going down that road again.
* * *
Vic drove the tractor into the yard and pulled in front of Keith McCauley’s shop, frustrated that he hadn’t checked the amount of twine he had left in the baler before he started out this morning. He should have taken more with him, but he had been rushing all morning ever since he overslept.
Too much thinking last night, he told himself as he climbed out of the tractor. Too much on his mind. Dean. His widowed mother.
The missing deal with Keith. If he didn’t find the papers, Lauren was ready to sell the ranch. At a price he couldn’t afford.
He’d prayed about it and struggled to release it all into God’s hands, but he kept pulling back.
Stay focused. You’ll find the agreement.
He just wasn’t sure when that was supposed to happen.
He stepped into the shop, the light from the open door slanting into the dark of the cool building. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the indoors from the bright sunlight outside.
But as he walked across the uneven concrete floor, he heard rustling and clanging coming from inside. He walked closer, listening. He reached for the door just as it opened under his hand.
Lauren stepped out carrying a shovel.
She wore blue jeans today and a dark T-shirt. Her hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, and as she looked up at him, the shovel fell to the floor with a clatter, her hand on her chest as she stumbled backward.
She would have fallen, but Vic caught her by one arm, pulling her upright. They stood that way a moment and he caught a whiff of her perfume.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide, a soft gray in the low light. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, some grass stuck in her hair.
“Oh. It’s you,” she said, breathless as she pulled away from him.
The speed with which she did it almost unbalanced her again, but this time she grabbed the door handle, looking hastily away.
“Yeah. I just needed some more twine for the baler.” He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “Sorry I bothered you.”
“No. No. That’s fine. I just was startled. That’s all.” She pushed her hair back with the palm of her hand, creating another smudge of dirt. “I thought you were Jodie. She went to town and said she would be back soon.”
With her blue jeans and casual shirt, dirty face and messy hair, she looked even more appealing than she normally did.
And he was, suddenly, not in any rush to find another roll of baler twine.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face,” he said, pointing.
Lauren hastily scrubbed at her cheeks but only managed to make it worse.
Vic pulled out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Use this.”
She frowned as she looked down at the red polka-dotted square.
“I haven’t used it yet,” he assured her.
“Thanks, but that’s not what I was worried about. I don’t meet many men who actually use the hankies they carry.” She hurriedly wiped her face, as if embarrassed he had caught her looking less than her best. “Though they’re not called hankies, technically they’re pocket squares and they’re usually white, artfully folded and peeking out of a suit pocket.” Then she released a short laugh. “Sorry. Babbling.” She looked up at him, her expression questioning. “Did I get it all?”
“Still some on your left cheek,” he said, pointing with his right hand. She wiped her right cheek. “No. The other left cheek,” he said with a grin.
She wiped furiously at her left cheek but still missed the spot.
“A little more to the left,” he said. A deep frown creased her forehead as she moved to the right, scrubbing again as if it was important she remove this dirt.
He finally took the hankie from her, caught her chin in his hand and wiped off the dirt himself. It was still smudged, but the worst was off.
He was disconcerted to see her looking up at him, her face holding a curious expression. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his hands. “I thought...you...you’d...”
“No. Thanks. It’s okay. I hate being dirty. Just a thing. Thanks.”
“Well, if that’s a problem, you’ve also got some grass in your hair.” But this time, instead of explaining, he plucked it out himself.
“I guess I’m ready to face the world,” she said with a nervous laugh, pulling away as he tugged at another piece.
As she did, his hand accidentally brushed her cheek, and she jumped as if he had struck her.
“Sorry,” she said, sounding breathless as she leaned over to pick up the shovel. “Still jumpy. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“That was my fault. I didn’t think anyone was in here, either. What are you doing with the shovel?”
“I’m cleaning out the flower beds. They’re horribly overgrown. I used to take care of them every summer when we came to visit. Dad must have let them get out of hand.”
“Your dad wasn’t much for gardening,” Vic said.
Lauren smiled at him and something dangerous shifted deep in his soul. He knew those first few whispers of attraction. Had felt them many times before. The last time was with Tiffany. Dean’s ex-girlfriend.
The memory was like a slap and he knew he should leave. Yet, against his better judgment, he lingered.
“The lawn is crazy, as well,” she continued as he mentally made his retreat from her. “I’m going to have to do three passes with the lawnmower before it’s acceptable. And I’d like to go into town tomorrow to pick up some flowers. I think the greenhouse is still selling them.”
“Why are you even bothering?” he asked, curiosity keeping him from stepping away. Curiosity and a deep loneliness that had been haunting him the past few months. He hadn’t dated since Tiffany had told him she loved him. That she wanted to break up with Dean and get back together with him. They had dated previously, but she had broken up with him to date his brother. Then realized her mistake and wanted to get back together with Vic. He’d told her she had to do the right thing and tell his brother.
Her timing was atrocious. His inattention and Dean’s anger had contributed to Dean’s accident. Vic felt he was still paying for that mistake.
But now Lauren stood in front of him, attractive, appealing and, truth to tell, probably just as off-limits as Tiffany had been.
“Why bother?” she repeated with a gentle smile that didn’t help his resolve. “It’s something to do and, well, I’d like to make it nice for the future buyer.”
Her words created a clench deep and low, bringing reality into their cozy little conversation.
“Of course. Good idea.” He straightened his shoulders as if readying himself for whatever lay ahead. “I’ll be done baling this field in a couple of hours. Would it be okay if I come inside and look through your father’s papers afterward?”
“I’m meeting Keira Fortier for supper at the Grill and Chill tonight, so I don’t think so.”
“Another time, then?”
“Sure. When it works.”
Vic fought down his frustration at her nonchalant attitude. This was as important to her as it was to him.
But she had choices.
He didn’t.
