Читать книгу His Hometown Girl - Karen Rock - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
A WEEK LATER, at Burlington International Airport, Daniel Gleason shifted in his work boots and peered up at the arrival and departure board. Jodi’s Chicago flight was on time, meaning it must be landing. Any minute now and she’d stride through the terminal gate and back into his life. A foreboding feeling settled in his gut. Would her local roots make the community trust her more than the other Midland suits? Sell their farmland to her? Worse, would seeing her rekindle his old feelings? He gulped back that bitter thought.
“Yep,” a farmer beside him murmured. “The corn should be a foot taller by now.” The man pulled off a John Deere cap and scratched his bald head. “Rain better slow up soon.”
“Every path’s got a few puddles,” Daniel quoted absently, his mind focused more on the appearance of his lovely—and cunning—childhood competitor. The woman who’d walked out on their relationship ten years ago without a word.
“Heard you had some kind of socialist plan to get us out of this mess, Gleason.” His neighbor’s eyes slid Daniels’s way.
Daniel waited a beat, then gave the man a reassuring smile. “A co-op isn’t socialist,” he said evenly. “It’s practical. If we produce organic products from humanely treated animals, we’ll get a higher price per pound of milk. It’s our best strategy for making it through this economy, and the weather. But we can’t apply for the upgrades grant unless we form the co-op.”
The farmer spat chewing tobacco into a handkerchief. “Still sounds socialist. And I didn’t fight in Vietnam to go commie now.”
“But—”
A voice announced a disembarking plane, interrupting Daniel.
“That’s my wife.” The vet clapped a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Look, kid. I served with your dad and I know you’re trying to keep his farm going since he can’t. But we’ve got to look at more realistic solutions. We’ll talk more at the next town council meeting.”
It’s my farm, too, Daniel wanted to interject, though he knew better than to be disrespectful. Patience and persistence would win his neighbors to his cause. And losing was not an option. Like his ancestors, he valued a life shaped by his own hands and the independence that came with it. He’d protect his farming community’s traditions, no matter the odds or the adversary. His pulse stuttered. Even if it was Jodi.
“Now disembarking, Flight 152 from Chicago, Gate A,” a boarding agent announced into a microphone. Passengers streamed by her podium and Daniel stepped forward, his heart beating out a forgotten rhythm.
Then he spotted golden hair...and there she was, Jodi, more beautiful than he remembered. Thinner, the youthful roundness of her face replaced by finer contours of jaw and cheekbones, dressed up in a yellow tank top and a flowered skirt instead of the jeans he was used to, her waves smoothed straight. But she was still the gorgeous girl next door. His breath caught at the vision she made as her hair flowed around her face while she secured a struggling child in a stroller.
Tyler. Grace had filled him in on Jodi’s son and divorce when he’d offered to pick her up at the airport. It was part of his “keep your friends close and enemies closer” strategy. He didn’t have to worry about the “know your enemy” tactic, however. Every one of his earliest memories included Jodi—some of the best and a few of the worst.
“Daniel?”
Jodi’s large blue eyes peered from him to the handwritten sign he held and she frowned as she read it, her lips silently forming the words Jodi Lynn. He forced his eyes from her full mouth, the sight doing something funny to his heart until he caught himself. Those feelings were from a lifetime ago. One he had no intention of reliving.
“What are you doing here? And I don’t go by Jodi Lynn anymore. Please put that sign away.”
He lowered it. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me. You’ve been gone awhile.” Despite his efforts, it sounded accusing and he hurried to continue. “And Grace had a DAR meeting, so I offered to pick you up.”
She peered up at signs bearing the taxi symbol. “Thanks, but I can manage on my own.” Her son began to cry, his voice sounding hoarse, as if he’d been doing it for hours. Maybe he had, poor kid. Grace had mentioned the boy was autistic and that keeping him calm in new situations could be a challenge.
Daniel took her carry-on so that she could attend to her child. “Jodi. Face it, you’ve got your hands full and your aunt wanted me to help you.” After he’d convinced Grace not to miss her meeting, he added to himself. He needed to know what Jodi planned.
She sighed, although it was hard to tell if the frustrated sound was aimed at him or the plastic-framed glasses her son flung into the crowd.
A man in a business suit stopped short and spilled his coffee down his shirt. He snatched up the eye gear by its band and advanced their way, his scowl directed at Jodi until Daniel stepped in his path.
He forced an easy smile and held out a hand. “Thanks for that. Wouldn’t want a child to lose his glasses.”
The traveler opened and closed his mouth like the bass Daniel had hooked last Sunday.
He nodded toward a row of boarding-pass kiosks. “Looks like you’d better get going since you’re in such a rush.”
When the man scurried away, his tie flapping over his shoulder, Jodi turned to Daniel. “You didn’t have to do that.” She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. “I can fight my own battles.”
He didn’t want to suggest that it looked like her hands were already full with her cranky preschooler, but that was the reason he’d stepped in.
He passed Jodi the glasses. “Like the one you’re fighting for Midland Corp.” He figured it was safer to put this conversation on professional grounds right off the bat. “Or is it more personal than that?”
Jodi’s face remained neutral and he wondered if she felt guilty for coming home to sell out her former neighbors. It was one thing for her parents to lose their farm. Another matter for a community to lose its way of life. He wouldn’t let her get away with it.
“This isn’t personal, Daniel,” she said at last, her voice muffled as she bent over her son and pulled the glasses over his head. “It’s business.”
His jaw tightened. “It involves people’s lives, so I’d say it’s personal.”
“Baggage for Flight 152 now unloading on Carousel C,” the overhead announcer blared.
When she spoke, Jodi sounded cool and matter-of-fact. A stranger’s voice. “Let’s table that if you don’t mind. Now, if you’re my chauffeur, we should get my bags. Oh, and this is my son, Tyler.”
Amazing how much the child resembled his mother. “Hey, Tyler.”
But the boy ignored him and gnawed on his stuffed elephant’s ear. The kid looked stressed.
“Let’s get your luggage.”
Jodi rolled her stroller toward a moving conveyer belt sweeping dusty bags in a circle. “Once I’ve gotten the farmers to sell, those suitcases will be on the next flight. Promise.” She pointed to a pair of large, plastic-encased bags and wheeled her son back from the jostling crowd.
He didn’t doubt it. She’d done it before and it’d nearly broken him.
After hefting them off the moving track, he caught up to her. “That’s a lot of baggage for someone who’s not staying long.”
“I’m planning on staying until I get the job done.” She gave him a level stare. “Except losing.”
The luggage wheels clicked as he rolled the bags toward the exit, his mind working just as fast. “You did a lot of that before you moved away.”
“Emphasis on the word before.” She stopped the stroller and crouched in front of Tyler, her hands on his kicking legs. “I’m not the same girl who fell for your games, Daniel.”
“Maybe we’ve both learned some new tricks.”
She straightened and stepped so close that he took an involuntary step back. “I conduct multimillion dollar deals while you...” Her voice trailed off as she looked from his mud-spattered boots to his faded plaid shirt.
“Earn an honest living.” He adjusted his Red Sox cap. “You get your hands a lot dirtier than I do.” Before her family’s tragedy, she’d been proud to be a 4-H girl and farmer’s daughter. Now she acted as if this life was beneath her.
Where had the girl gone who’d swung out on a rope over Cedar Bay farther than anyone, the young woman who’d walked the ridgeline of a barn on a dare and had raided Mrs. Tate’s berry patches at midnight? The impulsive risk taker he’d known was replaced with a carefully controlled, polished version of herself. Yet he preferred her former warm glow to this reflective sheen that wouldn’t let him see the real her. If that person existed anymore. Had she been this way all along? Was that the reason she’d left him?
The sliding doors opened with a hiss and they stepped out into the cool midmorning drizzle. Daniel breathed in the smell of exhaust and couldn’t wait to get home, away from all this concrete. He needed to strategize. Regroup and think about how he’d handle this new, unflappable Jodi.
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a measured look. “Where are you parked?” Her stroller’s plastic wheels swerved along the parking lot’s asphalt.
So she was letting his accusation go, her self-possession unnerving him. Gone was the girl whose passion had once swept him away from his everyday life, her white-hot temper later imploding it. How things had changed. At least the temporary cease-fire meant he could find out her plans. Stop them before she put them in place. For that matter, the drive home might soften her up with a tour down memory lane.
“I’ve got a ground-level spot,” he said, raising his voice so it’d be heard over a plane’s roar.
“Great. The sooner Tyler gets his nap the better.”
“Are you working right away or having some R & R first? I’ll show you some of the old sights.”
“I have to check in with my boss, then I plan to—” She stopped and shoved wet, frizzing hair from her face. “Why am I telling you this?” Her eyes roamed over him, mystified. Suddenly she looked like the girl he’d known years ago, the one who’d once worn her heart on her sleeve and had captured his.
“Because we used to be friends, Jodi Lynn.”
“Friends?” She snorted and shook off the water collecting on the stroller’s canopy. “And don’t call me Jodi Lynn.”
“Would you prefer ‘ma’am’? Is that what country folks are supposed to say when a city girl comes to town?”
“Knock it off, Daniel.” She nudged him, and the warmth of her bare shoulder through his thin shirt nearly burned.
“That’s Mr. Gleason to you,” he joked to hide the response her touch ignited. Careful, he warned himself.
Jodi shot him a level look, then picked up speed when her son started to kick again, his voice sounding like a teakettle about to boil. No wonder. Daniel would scream, too, if he was strapped in when he could walk instead. Parking lots were unpredictable, but with a firm hand and a sharp eye the little guy could have had his freedom.
“So why are you here instead of one of my aunt’s neighbors?” she asked once they halted beside his muddy blue pickup. The misting rain had only streaked the dirt.
“We’re all neighbors, and neighbors help each other.” He tossed her expensive-looking suitcases into the open bed, an echoing thunk sounding when plastic met metal. “In case you forgot.”
“I haven’t. I’m helping my old hometown get a fair deal that will improve their lives.” She spoke without looking up at him, her movements practiced and efficient as she swept up her thrashing son and secured him in the child seat she’d detached from the stroller, buckling him into the center of the truck’s continuous front seat.
“If you want something, use your words, Tyler,” she told her son.
The boy screamed and pounded his fists against the dashboard, but Jodi slid in beside him, looking as if it was any other day. And for her, maybe it was.
Daniel felt his resistance weaken until he caught himself. Her “fair deal” would only benefit Midland, not her former community. They’d either have to abandon their land or become corporate drones, working for a Midland paycheck. No. Jodi was the enemy. No matter that she made him remember good times he’d rather forget.
If he couldn’t convince her that this was personal, not business, remind her of the good times she’d had here and the people she’d cared about, then he needed her gone before she wreaked havoc on his home and his heart.
She’d done the latter the last time she’d left town. He’d be a fool to let her do it again.
He wouldn’t let himself, or his town, fall for Jodi Lynn Chapman.
No, ma’am.
* * *
JODI CLOSED HER eyes and rested her head against the seat as the truck accelerated out of the airport parking lot. Of all people, why had Daniel been the one to meet her at the airport? The unwelcome surprise had rattled her to the bone. It’d taken every bit of control to act professionally around him when she’d wanted to bolt from the emotions he’d shaken loose. Besides, personal spats wouldn’t convince the local farmers to trust her professionalism.
But she and Daniel had been much more than enemies once....
Her eyes flew open at the unbidden thought and she peeked at Daniel’s profile. He’d matured in subtle ways over the past ten years. His square jaw and broad cheekbones had filled out, balancing his strong nose so that his masculine features looked handsomer than ever. His left-sided cowlick pulled dark hair from his prominent brow and framed hazel eyes fringed with thick lashes she’d always envied.
Her face heated and she lowered her lids again as the truck took a couple more turns. No. She wouldn’t let herself think of him that way. Not again. Not when she needed every bit of her focus on acquiring local farms, even Daniel’s. And how would she manage that magic trick?
Then again, how could she not? Besides Mr. Tisdale’s lakeside property, Daniel’s Maplewood Farm had the most land in the area. With her target set at five thousand acres, success was her only option.
Her chest burned when she recalled being served with Peter’s petition to lower child support payments yesterday. Despite everything, she still hadn’t believed he’d do it. And now, on top of battling for tuition to Wonders Primary, she’d need to hire a lawyer to fight him.
She held in the sigh that’d give her inner turmoil away. This was the most important deal in her career and she had to think strategically and rationally. Use the skills she’d learned from corporate wheeling and dealing in order to win when she needed it most. Emotion or doubt couldn’t cloud her judgment.
Her eyes slit open and flicked Daniel’s way. Nor could she let their former relationship influence her. She’d been betrayed by men in her life and she’d never forget that Daniel had been the first. Her index finger tapped against the window, punctuating the thought.
When the truck hit another pothole, her eyes opened and teeth rattled. She glanced through the mud droplets and instead of seeing the tree-lined edge of I-89, she saw the Pearsons’ stainless steel silo. The curved ladder they decorated with red-and-white light strips every December flashed by in a blur. Why had Daniel taken this slower, back-road route?
The answer came to her in waves of nostalgia.
A weakness.
He was testing her. Seeing if she missed the place. Felt sentimental. Hah. Tyler was the only one to whom she’d entrust her feelings again.
“I know what you’re doing and I don’t appreciate it.” She crossed her ankles against the dusty floor mat and tried to blot out the memory of visiting the Pearsons’ enormous lit candy cane; it had been a Christmas season tradition.
Daniel shot her a sideways glance, then said, “If you look over there, Tyler, you’ll see Field Stone Farm.”
Tyler continued pulling Ollie’s tail, the hand stitches she’d used to reattach it last week nearly pulling free.
“I beat your mother at a stone-carrying challenge there. Hope she’s still not holding that against me since I shared the prize with her—one of Mrs. Willette’s raspberry cobblers.” Daniel’s vivid eyes sparkled when they met hers, the green-and-yellow kaleidoscope of color drawing her in until she shook her head and looked away.
“I hardly remember those times, so there’s no grudge.” Jodi shifted uncomfortably as she recalled too much.
Tyler jerked when Daniel ruffled his hair. “Guess that means your mother’s become the forgiving type.”
“I’ve moved on and so should you,” she muttered as she pulled out her smartphone and read an email from her boss to call him. “And would you please go a bit faster. I have to—”
“The speed limit here is thirty-five. Besides—” Daniel shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m showing Tyler where he comes from. If you have your way, he’ll never have this chance again.”
Jodi tamped down her sudden spike of anger. “He’s from Chicago, not Cedar Bay.” She passed Tyler a Fruit Roll-Up snack, then sighed when her son flung it away. He really was hungry.
“There’ve been Chapmans here for over three hundred years.”
“His last name is Mitchem. I changed my name back after the divorce.”
Daniel shot her a speculative glance then continued. “Your last name might be different, Tyler, but you’re still part of a large family that goes back generations.” Daniel drummed along with the Eagles tune “Take It Easy,” which was ironic. She noted his empty ring finger as it beat against the wheel, then chided herself for looking. What difference did his marital status make?
When the song ended, he pulled a bag of raspberries out of a dashboard pocket and passed it to Tyler. No! She lunged, too late, as Tyler squealed when he crushed them, the crimson color bleeding through his tiny fingers. Jodi’s shoulders slumped and she reached for a Handi Wipe. What a sticky mess.
“May I have one?” Daniel held out a large hand in front of Tyler. Her heart squeezed when her son struggled, then plucked a berry from the bag. He would have won a gold star for that in physical therapy.
“Thank you, Ty.” Daniel’s white teeth flashed against the tanned skin of his face and her breath caught when his crescent moon dimples appeared. She forced her attention away and dabbed at the sticky berry juice dribbling down her son’s face. “Careful, you’ll choke,” she warned as Tyler shoved in another handful.
Her son stopped chewing, but didn’t look up. For Tyler, that was the most attention anyone could expect when he got fixed on something he really liked.
“Glad you’re enjoying the treat, Tyler,” Daniel said before continuing the kind of chatter that charmed everyone. “I had to ask my neighbor Mrs. Tate for some since the birds had eaten all of mine. You remember going berry picking on Blueberry Hill, Jodi Lynn, right?”
Their eyes caught and held over her son’s head, a memory of their first kiss, berry flavored and full of sunshine, bursting in her brain. She stared at his mouth and turned away when it curved into a knowing grin. Her teeth ground together. He was trying to get under her skin and she’d be darned if she let him.
“Did Grace tell you that she got elected state regent of the Daughters of the American Revolution?”
“Yes. She told me. In fact, she keeps me up-to-date on all of the local news.” Jodi crossed her fingers at the white lie. But she didn’t want Daniel to think she had a special reason to avoid hearing about her hometown. Like a broken heart that had never fully healed....
“Is keeping tabs on your acquisitions part of your job description?” His dark lashes cast shadows over his eyes, but she detected sarcasm in his voice.
“Half of all New England farmers hold full-time jobs off the farm, then return home to farm,” Jodi quoted from a survey she’d read recently. “The rest are full-time farmers. Their work extends year-round. Two-thirds of the farmers are fifty years of age or older. One-third are sixty years of age or older. Only a few farmers receive help from their adult children, and most farmers have difficulty finding farm labor, so many farms are kept to a size that the family can manage alone.” She rolled down her window and let the warm, early-summer air flow over her. “Looks like the berries aren’t the only thing ripe for the picking.”
Daniel whistled long and low, making Tyler cup his hands over his ears. “So you think Cedar Bay’s in a crisis.”
Jodi tugged Tyler’s hands away and danced Ollie across his lap. “Fortunately, I’m here to help so that no one becomes a charity case.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him wince.
“I never called you that,” he said quietly.
“But you believed it.”
Jodi remembered overhearing him agree with teenage friends who’d called her a charity case. He’d been unable to deny those feelings when she’d confronted him. Although it’d happened the summer she’d worked on Daniel’s farm to pay for her father’s medical bills, the memory still burned bright. She’d been falling for Daniel and hadn’t seen the truth, had trusted him when he’d suggested keeping their relationship quiet until things settled down with her family. Her father’s emotional distress and slow recovery meant her mother’s every waking moment was spent caring for him. They didn’t need any extra distractions or worries. But when Daniel had admitted that he pitied her, she’d realized the horrible truth.
He’d only dated her because he felt sorry for her—a fact he hadn’t denied when she’d accused him.
So when her parents had moved to Arizona, she’d left a week early for college without warning him. What could she have said that wouldn’t have caused more hurt? Their original plan had been to maintain their relationship and see each other during college breaks. Instead, she’d vowed to never return home again. Until now... She’d reacted impulsively, she realized, looking back. But there was no sense in wishing for a chance to make things right. Especially not with both of them on opposite sides of this battle.
Besides, those were the feelings of an adolescent girl crushed by her failed first love. Not the woman she was today. Not even close.
“You said this wasn’t personal.” The timbre of his voice deepened.
She shrugged tense shoulders. “It’s not.” Not in the way he meant anyway. This was for Tyler, not revenge on an ex-boyfriend.
“Then it’s for the bonus.”
“That’s none of your business.” Heat flared along her upper chest and crept up her neck. She needed that payment for Tyler.
“Fine. You win.” He sent her a sideways glance. “This time.”
She unclenched her hands when Daniel clicked off his windshield wipers. The rain ceased its steady drum and sunshine splashed down where clouds broke apart and moved off, revealing patches of blue. She squinted out the window and breathed deeply. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
Until they rounded a corner.
“And this is where your mother used to live growing up.”
Tyler kept eating and Jodi averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see the scene of her father’s accident.
“The next side road’s a shortcut to Aunt Grace’s house,” she said through shaking lips. “Could we take that, please?”
“But you’ll miss seeing Deep Meadows Farm. Remember the daisy chains we used to make?”
“Take us home, Daniel,” she ordered, voice thick. She clasped her trembling hands in her lap, recalling the dash to the hospital ten years ago, and her remorse for not being there to help with the skid loader borrowed from Daniel’s father.
“But, Jodi Lynn, you are home.” Daniel’s insistent tone softened.
“Home is Chicago.” Jodi said it to remind herself as much as Daniel. “I meant to my aunt Grace’s house. The tour’s over.”
Her voice was harsher than she intended and Tyler flapped his hands. He rocked forward in his seat and made a keening sound that pierced her heart.
“Tyler, I’m sorry,” she crooned, regret filling her. “We’ll be home soon and you can take a nap.” She wedged his stuffed animal beneath his seat belt. “Ollie’s tired, too.” She tried pressing on his shoulders the way the therapist had showed her to calm him, but couldn’t get the right angle.
Daniel turned off the radio and flicked his blinker on at the side road.
“No,” she protested when Tyler’s protests escalated to full-out screams. “Some noise is good. Do you have anything classical?” A familiar weeping willow flashed by along with a clearing that contained two grazing dapple-grays. Good. Getting closer now.
“Just 102.9.”
But when he tuned into the local channel, they were running through sports news, the announcer’s high-pitched voice making Tyler’s legs beat against the seat, his small hands covering his ears.
Familiar panic set in. The juice box she offered Tyler wound up on the floor beside the Fruit Roll-Up. The back of her neck grew damp and her eyelid twitched.
She knew she shouldn’t feel ashamed of her difficulty in controlling Tyler’s outbursts, but she did. It felt as if a marquee sign appeared over her head flashing Bad Mother...Bad Mother.... And the disapproving looks she got in restaurants or checkout lines confirmed the fact that, yes, she was being judged and found wanting.
How would they have handled this at Wonders Primary? She pictured the brightly colored toys and equipment in the well-lit, open space, the smiling, patient therapists who played on their knees with the children. There this tantrum might never have occurred.
This was exactly why she needed to succeed and head home as soon as possible. She wasn’t what was best for Tyler. They were. And the thought made her want to cry along with her son.
A few minutes later, Aunt Grace’s cedar-shingled house appeared through a row of blue spruce. Behind the tidy one-story, the deep navy of Lake Champlain shimmered. Tyler let out a piercing scream when they bounced to a halt.
“It’s okay, Tyler. We’re here,” she murmured as her hands struggled with the child seat restraints across his stomach. Her fingers tingled when Daniel brushed them aside. In one snap, he freed her son, lifted him out of the truck and carried him to the front porch steps.
Jodi freed the car seat, grabbed it and her purse and followed until a familiar voice stopped her.
“Welcome home!”
She whirled and sagged into Aunt Grace’s outstretched arms, her face buried in her familiar, lilac-scented shoulders. Or maybe the scent came from the purple, white and pink blossoms in the basket she carried. Either way, the smell made something inside her loosen.
“It’s so good to see you.” She stepped back at last and admired Aunt Grace’s soft pink blouse and gray slacks.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Jodi.” Her aunt’s brown eyes, set behind skin folds and creases, were still as piercing as ever. “Wish you’d come home under better circumstances.”
“A visit with you is the best circumstance.” And it was.
“I agree. If only your parents would come back from Arizona, too.” Aunt Grace wrapped an arm around her and led her toward the garden beds surrounding her porch. “How are you, Daniel? Would you like to come inside for some tea?”
“I think Jodi’s had enough of me, Grace, but thanks.” His eyes lingered on Jodi’s for a long minute before he headed back to the truck, his movements easy and athletic.
No sooner had he grabbed their suitcases than he dropped them again to lunge after a bolting Tyler. A tern, Tyler’s target, squawked and flew from Aunt Grace’s dock directly behind her small house.
Jodi clutched her chest, grabbing the locket containing Tyler’s baby picture, her heart beating like the frantic bird’s wings. If not for Daniel’s lightning reflexes, Tyler might have ended up in the water, or worse, on the rocks that flashed just above the surface before the lake bed dropped off. She’d been so fixed on watching Daniel that she’d missed her son’s dash. Her “Bad Mother” marquee flashed on again.
“Daniel, thank you,” she said when he deposited Tyler in her arms. Her son kicked and protested until Grace offered him a cookie and led him inside.
Daniel’s face creased. “No need to thank me. It’s what neighbors do, Jodi. Help each other.”
And just like that her gratitude dissolved into irritation. She pushed back the strands a lake breeze blew in her face.
“Neighbors in cities support one another, too. My neighbor has been taking care of Tyler until—”
Daniel’s biceps flexed as he carried her suitcases and placed them at her feet. “Until...?”
Her hands curled. Why did she forget herself so often around him? “Until he starts day care.” There. It was the truth without saying anything that would connect it to her real reason for being here. Daniel needed to see her as a strong opponent, not a mother who was struggling to provide for her child.
He stared intently at her, then passed her a small bag. “You’ll be glad to go back soon. Even if it is empty-handed.”
“I agree with half that statement.” Daniel had charm and contacts, but she had the drive of needing something badly.
Daniel hopped up on his running board. “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing. We’re not playing on the same team anymore.”
“Have we ever?”
Their eyes locked for a breathless moment, both recalling when they had.
“This is different.”
He studied her for a long minute, then waved before sliding inside. “I know.”
As he began backing out of her aunt’s driveway, his eyes on her, she heard him shout, “This is war!”
