Page 7 of Declan (Men of Clifton, Montana #53)

The hostess led them to their table, placed menus down, then walked away to get their drinks. Elise wanted to be anywhere but here. Maybe she should say she didn’t feel well and ask him to take her home. No. She didn’t like to lie, so she’d stick it out.

After they placed their orders, Elise glanced around the restaurant, then looked at Stephen.

“This really is a nice restaurant.”

“Yeah. It’s expensive though,” he said as he picked up his glass of whiskey and drank it all in one gulp, then waved to a server to get another one.

“I’m sure that whiskey’s not cheap,” she murmured.

“It’s not. Nothing here is, but I can afford it.” He shrugged.

As Elise traced the rim of her water glass, her fingers cool against the condensation, she saw Declan Cavanaugh strolling past their booth.

His hand rested possessively on the lower back of a statuesque blonde whose golden waves caught the amber light.

A sharp twinge of jealousy jabbed at Elise’s chest. She blinked, trying to banish the feeling.

Of course, a man that devastatingly handsome would have someone by his side.

She smiled as she took in his attire, blue jeans and a black long-sleeved dress shirt.

On his feet were distressed cowboy boots and he looked better than any other man in here.

He held his cowboy hat in his hand, and she wanted to run her fingers through his thick, soft-looking hair.

“So, you told me you worked in real estate. You must have been out when I was there looking for a place for the studio. Lydia is a wonderful person.” She smiled.

“Lydia Griffin? I don’t work out of that hole in the wall. I work out of a big office here, in Hartland.”

“Oh, I see. I thought it was a nice place.”

“My office has over ten real estate agents. I think Clifton Realty only has two or three.” He shrugged. Did he have to be so condescending? She thought as she glanced over to Declan and his date again. “Lydia was very professional.”

“She does well for herself.” He grinned. “But I do so much better.” Then he glanced over his shoulder and back to her. “Do you know anything about him?”

Elise looked at Stephen and raised a brow. “Who?”

Stephen allowed a sardonic smirk to curve his lips. “Cavanaugh. I saw you looking at him.”

She tilted her head, curiosity stirring. “Why are you asking me? How would I know anything about him?”

With a casual shrug, he sipped his whiskey, its color glowing like amber in the low light. “He’s not what he seems.”

Elise leaned back, the soft rustle of her blouse mingling with the hush of the restaurant. “Just how does he seem?”

Stephen set his glass down and shook his head slowly, as if weighing each word. “Like he’s a good person. Have you ever seen where he lives?”

“No. How in the world would I do that?” she challenged. “I don’t know him any more than I know you.” She folded her arms, looked to where Declan and his date sat, then back to Stephen.

“Ah, I get it.” He smirked.

She unfolded her arms and fixed him with a steady stare. “Just what is it you get?”

“You like him. Hey, I get it, some women might find him attractive.”

Elise’s jaw tightened. Some women ? she thought, certain that almost every woman would stop dead in her tracks to look at Declan. She cleared her throat. “What does any of that have to do with where he lives?”

His eyes glinted. “I think he’s on the take.”

A gasp escaped her lips. “What? Why?”

Stephen leaned back, resting one arm on the table.

“You should see that house. It sits on three hundred acres of dense woodland, towering pines and maples lining the blacktop driveway with a huge gate. There’s a four-car garage under the house.

It’s a log home, dark cedar beams, and three stone fireplaces.

There’s a barn with twelve stalls, and trails around the property for horseback riding and there are three ponds on the property, one even has a cabin sitting next to it, then there’s the inground pool.

The whole property is worth over three million dollars. ”

Elise’s breath caught. “Maybe he inherited it from a family member.”

Stephen shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Her voice rose, disbelief echoing in it. “And just how do you know what his place is worth?”

He picked up his glass again, swirling it as if savoring the flavors. “Being in real estate, I showed that house to several clients, none of them could stomach a mortgage north of sixteen thousand dollars a month.” He offered her a slow, knowing smile.

“How would you even know he bought it?” Elise demanded, her jaw tightening with frustration.

“When a house sells, the photo of it is posted on the board in the office. No matter which Real Estate office sells it. In fact, I believe Lydia Griffin sold it to him. She sure made out on that one,” Stephen explained, gesturing as if illustrating the process.

“And I asked who bought it. An agent in the office told me it was Cavanaugh, and he paid cash .” He shrugged again, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, his nonchalance almost physical.

“I see,” she murmured, though her mind wandered, wishing this date would swiftly come to an end. “You seem to have a problem with Deputy Cavanaugh.”

He met her gaze steadily, his eyes unwavering and intense. “I don’t have any type of problem with him. I’m just curious how he affords a place like that.” His words were laced with a subtle edge.

“It’s none of your business,” Elise retorted sharply, her voice firm and unyielding, like a wall of steel.

“It is if he’s on the take. After all, we pay his salary and I don’t like being ripped off,” Stephen countered, his words heavy with accusation, hanging in the air like a cloud of suspicion. “Not much worse than a dirty cop.”

Elise stared at him, her mind racing as she tried to fathom his fixation with Declan. “What do you have against him?” she asked, her voice probing but calm.

“Nothing,” Stephen replied, though his expression was anything but indifferent. “I just don’t like people who act like they’re perfect and they’re far from it. Just like he does,” he concluded, his expression resolute as he met her gaze, unwavering and defiant.

Elise shook her head, her frustration evident. “Do you have any proof of him being on the take?”

“You tell me how he afforded that house on a deputy’s salary,” he snapped, his voice rising with intensity.

“As I said, it’s none of your business,” she reiterated, her tone steady and forthright.

“Maybe not, but I’ll find out. I know people,” he retorted, his voice tinged with determination.

Elise couldn’t help it; she laughed, a light, mocking sound that filled the air. “You really do seem to be obsessed with him,” she observed, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Stephen’s face turned a shade of crimson, his anger visible in the flush of his cheeks, but she couldn’t care less. This was their last date, a conclusion she reached with a sense of finality.

Once their meals arrived, Elise had reached her limit.

The elegant presentation of the dishes couldn’t distract her from her resolve.

She intended to savor the meal, recognizing its hefty price tag, but once they left this restaurant and he dropped her off at her doorstep, she would leave Stephen standing there.

“Are you enjoying your dinner?” Stephen inquired, cutting into his golden-battered fried fish, the aroma mingling with the subtle scent of lemon and herbs.

“Yes, it’s very good,” Elise replied, her voice steady as she forced a smile.

“Would you like to go to a movie again after we’re done here?” he suggested, his eyes hopeful.

“No, thank you. I’ve had a long week and I’m looking forward to relaxing the rest of tonight and tomorrow,” she replied, her tone polite but firm.

“Oh, okay. Maybe another time.” He shrugged, as he raised his hand for a server and requested another whiskey, but didn’t ask her if she wanted anything. The server asked her, but she declined.

Elise remained silent, though inside she was screaming that there would not be another time. Her mind was a whirlwind, and all she wanted was to escape the clutches of this man who seemed to revel in spreading rumors.

“How did your wife die?” she asked, her gaze steady as she noted the flicker of surprise that crossed his face. “What? Is it a secret?” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm, barely concealing her disdain.

“She died in a car accident,” Stephen replied with a shrug.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Jenny was too young to lose her mother,” Elise said, her tone more appeasing, thinking of the little girl who had been left behind.

“Yes, but as I said, she doesn’t remember much about her. She was only two at the time,” Stephen explained.

“Well, a day could come when you get married again. In my opinion, all little girls need a good mother in their lives. I can’t imagine what I would do without mine,” Elise said.

“Maybe.” Stephen shrugged again, a noncommittal gesture, as if brushing away the weight of the conversation, leaving the air heavy with unspoken words.

Elise couldn’t wait to escape this place, yet she didn’t want to rush through such a delectable meal.

The company could have been far more pleasant, but the food was amazing.

She glanced around the warmly lit restaurant, her eyes landing on Declan, who was watching her intently.

She offered him a polite smile, but his gaze shifted to Stephen, and even from across the bustling room, she could see the tension in his clenched jaw.

What on earth had transpired between these two men to cause such animosity?

She reached for her glass of wine, took a slow sip, and set it back down.

A server appeared beside their table, inquiring if they wanted dessert, but they both declined. Elise was eager to leave, and she had to restrain herself from bolting out the door. The server flashed a courteous smile and assured them she’d return shortly with the check.