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CHAPTER THREE

A GAIN , T ANNER FOUND himself caught in her gaze. Her blue eyes were just that: blue. Nothing special, damn it. A lot of people had blue eyes. Maybe it was the absorption of her gaze, the way she had of looking at a person, like she saw them. Completely.

Except she’d never seen him. Am I going to let that bother me for the rest of my life? No, he was not.

If he took one step forward, he’d be touching close. Kissing close. When he looked at her mouth, her lips parted. He heard her take a breath…

The hiss of the coffeepot as it finished broke the spell.

Get it together.

Easier said than done, but by God, he would do it.

He stepped around her to fill both their cups, and then, as if the moment hadn’t happened, as if he weren’t affected by her, he pulled out a chair for her at the table. Would she accept the silent invitation, or politely refuse and carry the coffee to the room she’d shared with Glory?

After a moment, Callie joined him at the table. “Thank you.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“Both. I can get it if you tell me—”

“I got it.” He didn’t want her up moving around again, showcasing those bare legs and drawing his attention back to her ass. It was safer for him if she stayed in her seat. He filled the little creamer pitcher that went with the sugar bowl, then set both before her with a spoon.

“These are pretty.”

He gave the dishes a negligent glance. “Reggie gave them to Addie a few years back, after she’d spent some time helping him out when he was sick.”

After a long hesitation, she asked, “Was he sick often?”

Tanner snorted. “You’re taking the man’s house, but you never knew him, never checked on him, or you’d know he was usually sick.” The accusation was there in his tone, as if he had the right to accuse anyone of anything.

She surprised him by saying, “You’re right, I know that.”

Silence ticked by where he felt like a jerk and she looked innocently wounded. Hell, she always looked innocent.

Innocently provoking, most of the time.

“Reggie was my father’s younger brother. There’s a lot of bad blood there.” She waited, maybe gauging his interest.

“Happens in families, I guess.”

“I guess. I don’t have siblings, but I have Glory, and even though we argue sometimes, I’d never cut her out.”

That’s how he felt about Kam. Over the years, they’d had plenty of disagreements, a few of them physical. Didn’t matter. He’d defend Kam always, whether he was right or wrong. When a person knew what it was like to be without family, he valued what family was gifted to him.

Callie added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee, poured in enough cream to make it pale, stirred, sipped, and sighed. “Perfect.”

Looking at that now-weak cup of…whatever, Tanner shook his head. “That’s no longer coffee, you know. It’s just warmed-up cream and sugar.”

Even so early in the morning, with her hair uncombed and her clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them, her smile had a powerful effect. “You sound like my mother.”

“Well now, is that a compliment or an insult?” He’d never seen her mother, though he’d heard plenty about her. Most in the town had downright revered her parents, the high and mighty McCallahans who deigned to dwell among them, always improving things—usually for their own fame and publicity.

At least that was how Tanner had seen it.

Her smile widened into a grin. “I’d say it’s more insult than otherwise. Mother was forever telling me I’d get thick if I didn’t watch the sugar—so I always added more, just to annoy her. Now I’ve learned to like it that way.”

“So you’re spiteful,” he said. “Got it.”

Callie laughed. “Next you’ll be commenting on my overall sugar addiction, and that my smiles are so big they’re going to give me wrinkles.”

Something else her mother had said? From what he’d heard yesterday between her and Glory, she seemed at odds with her mom still. “Obviously, you never got thick.” Callie had a body that would make most guys salivate. “And your smiles are nice.”

Ducking her face, she said, “Thank you.”

“Since she was wrong, did your mother ever retract her statement?”

“My mother? Ha!” After another sip, she set down the cup and tentatively met his gaze. “My weight has its ups and downs, and believe me, when it’s up she notices. Constantly. I’m not what anyone would call a healthy eater, but I get plenty of exercise and I love my veggies, too, so I’ve never worried much about it—despite all her dire warnings.”

He took a drink of his coffee, then decided, why not ? “Speaking strictly as a guy, you have no reason to worry.” He glanced over her body, but managed—with an effort—to keep it brief. She was still so hot that looking at her made him want to touch. And taste.

And ride.

As if she didn’t notice his interest, she said, “Thanks,” and wrinkled her nose. “My parents have this thing about perfection, and of course it’s impossible to measure up.”

With only the slightest touch of sarcasm, he said, “Must’ve been rough.” To him, she’d always seemed perfect. Perfectly styled and behaved. Perfectly kind.

With a perfect body and smile.

“It wasn’t so bad for me. I got a kick out of failing, I guess because I knew they’d love me anyway.” As if chilled, she cupped both hands around her cup. “What about you?”

Tanner wondered if he made her uneasy, if his abrasive attitude got to her, until her attention slipped, repeatedly, to his shoulders, his chest, and his biceps.

The appreciation in her gaze heated his blood and deepened his voice. “What about me?”

“Do you eat healthy stuff?” Her pretty blue eyes coasted over him once more, deliberately this time. “You seem to be extremely…” She cleared her throat and focused on her coffee. “Fit.”

A satisfied, somewhat smug smile curled the corners of his mouth. Maybe Kam and Addie were right after all and he should see this as an opportunity.

When he didn’t reply right away, mostly because he was weighing carnal possibilities, she cocked a brow. “Tough question?”

“The way you were looking at me, my mind wandered.” He folded his arms on the table and gave her a real answer, instead of grouching at her. “I usually eat whatever Addie fixes. Not a hardship, because she’s one hell of a cook. Everything from country meals like meat loaf—which we had last night—to fine dining, like roasted rack of lamb or beef Wellington. Plus the desserts are always amazing. She likes to experiment, so Kam and I benefit.”

“She sounds like the quintessential mom.”

“Yeah, she has a way about her.” A way that had broken through his reserves like a gentle battering ram. As a kid, he’d tried his best to keep her at a distance, but she’d worn away his fear with nonstop understanding and an unwavering routine he could count on. Addie had given compassion, but set it around clear boundaries. And good food. Growing up, he’d been forever hungry, but with her he could always eat his fill.

In numerous ways, Addie had made it clear that his safety, health, and happiness mattered most to her, and then she’d done the same with Kam.

“So she’s not only a bighearted woman, but a great cook, too.”

Tanner nodded. “In all the time I’ve lived here, she’s only missed cooking a few times. She loves the kitchen, though she says she didn’t know that about herself until she got us.”

“Us?”

Without thinking it through, still caught in the pleasant memory, he replied, “Me first, and then Kam. She said having boys to appreciate her meals opened new possibilities for her.”

Consternation tweaked Callie’s slim brows as she tried to follow along. “Not to pry, and I swear you can tell me to butt out—”

Realizing what he’d revealed and knowing exactly what she’d ask, he said quietly, “Butt out.”

For a beat of three seconds, she stared at him, then her lips formed a smile. Not a real smile this time, not like he’d seen earlier. This smile was polite…and he hated it.

“Sorry.” She took another sip of her coffee, back to avoiding his gaze. “I promise not to go there again.”

“Shit.” Using both hands, Tanner rubbed his face. He hadn’t meant to take his contrariness that far. In fact, he was enjoying this. Enjoying her. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Hell, I brought it up. It’s just…it’s a defense thing, to shut people down.” He’d learned the hard way that few people had kind motives. “It’s not a secret and since you’re here”— hopefully not for long —“you’re bound to hear all about it.”

“No, really, it’s—”

He touched her hand. Not something he’d intended to do, but it happened. And then he couldn’t seem to draw away. He went still. She went silent. Christ, it was as if he’d touched a live wire and they were both reacting to the shock. It burned through his veins.

He considered it a proof of his strength that he was able, by small degrees, to pull back. “Addie took us in.” His voice had gone deeper, rougher, but damned if he’d clear his throat.

Callie hadn’t yet blinked. Her eyes were fixed on his, unwavering, slightly flared still from his touch. He noticed that her lashes were thick, dark. Fucking beautiful.

To keep her from more apologies and maybe get back those easy smiles that, finally, after years of waiting, were aimed at him, Tanner explained. “She brought me here first, and then Kam, as foster kids.”

Soft color washed over her skin and at last, she blinked. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Disbelief and a touch of annoyance had him asking, “Are you blushing?” Women didn’t blush around him, and the nice ones sure as hell never apologized.

Callie pressed both hands over her heated cheeks. “I feel like a dunce. It never occurred to me.”

“What didn’t?”

“That you weren’t…that Addie wasn’t…”

In a weird way, her stammers amused him. Instead of pitying him, or asking more questions, she blushed and stumbled on her words. “You’re not a dunce. You just don’t remember me.” Hard to remember him when she’d never noticed him in the first place. “It was no secret from grade school on that my dad was a drunken prick who didn’t much like having a kid in his way.”

“I… I never knew. I hadn’t heard…”

“No reason you should have. Though we were both in Hoker, you lived in a different world.” Protected, insulated from the ugliness of an existence like his. Seeing the horror on her face, he sighed. “And now you’re going pale.” He wasn’t used to anyone, other than Addie and Kam, giving a shit what happened to him. “When I was thirteen, he got himself killed and Addie took me in.”

If anything, Callie looked more dismayed. “Wow, that’s…”

“My life in a nutshell.”

“Not even,” she said, totally earnest. “You’re so big and capable now, so confident. And you live here, in this wonderful house, working on this wonderful farm.”

“In this wonderful neighborhood?” Tanner didn’t know what to make of her. “I’m aware of my size, where I live and work. I think it’s pretty great, but someone like you—”

Her chin hitched. “Someone like me?”

“A princess.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

He remembered, which was why he’d said it. “I imagine if you wanted, you could buy three farms like this and twice as many houses.”

“My parents, maybe, but I’m not them.”

He snorted. “You’re sure as hell not me.”

“No, I’m myself, Callie McCallahan, a woman with a plan of her own.” She veered off that quickly, and then, as if to convince him of his worth, she said, “Don’t you see? It sounds like you had a really rough start but you’ve built this incredible life and you have people who love you.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t in need of a pep talk.”

Face going hot again, she clammed up, but not for long. With a glance around, she admitted, “I could almost be jealous, except that I’m determined to build myself a good life, too.”

“Here?” he asked with skepticism.

It said a lot that she dodged the question. “I assume Addie was just what you needed—which makes sense now that I’ve seen her in action. She has an aura about her that makes everything feel warmer and more comfortable. Less daunting.”

Tanner let her off the hook. No reason to belabor the point. She’d play around a day or two at most before she turned tail and went back to her easier way of life. “That sums up Addie.” In part, anyway. “She was definitely good for me, to me. I didn’t make it easy, either.”

“Sounds like you’d been through a lot. It’s understandable that you’d be defensive, at the very least. I mean, with your father killed and everything.”

Defensive, yes. Scared to death, too. And so God-awful afraid to dare hope. “You’re curious how my dad died.”

“How could I not be? But seriously, if you don’t want to talk about it, I completely understand.”

“I don’t usually, but right now…” Here with her, in the quiet kitchen with their soft voices and Blu’s light snore as the only sounds, it didn’t seem like a horrible prospect. “Like I said, you’re bound to hear gossip anyway.”

“Gossip, still ? That had to be what, fifteen years ago?”

“Sixteen, and some shit sticks around.” Especially the vicious rumors that continued to haunt him. “It’s ugly, so you may as well hear it from me.”

Eyes solemn, she said, “Have to admit, you’ve got me on the edge of my seat, so thank you for filling in the blanks.”

Thanking him for dumping his fucked-up life on her? She’d think differently soon. “My old man was the type to get stinking drunk and then get behind the wheel of a car. For some sick reason, he always made me go along. The lousiest bars turn a blind eye when someone dumps their kid near a pool table and then runs up a big tab drinking.”

“That’s what your dad did?”

Her words were so softly spoken, yet so filled with dread, he barely heard her.

“That last time, he managed to piss off the wrong people. He dragged me out of there in a hurry. He was so drunk that he was all over the road, crossing the line, nearly passing out a few times—then we got hit from behind and the car spun hard. When Dad got it straightened out, he sped home, cursing a blue streak all the way. At the house, he shoved me through the door and into a closet.”

Remembered pain, confusion, and fear, all sank into his bones, but he’d long since learned to shake it off, refusing to let himself dwell there. Much.

“I didn’t realize I had a broken arm until then. I guess it happened when the car was spinning. Must’ve hit something.”

Callie gave a soft gasp.

“Anyway, he locked the closet and I couldn’t get out.” They hadn’t eaten yet, and he had to use the bathroom, but he knew better than to make any noise. Complaints had always enraged his dad more. “The people who rear-ended us? Guess they had followed him home because I heard shouting, accusations, and then gunshots.”

Her hand covered her mouth.

Right. He needed to wrap it up. “Long story a little shorter, Dad was dead, and I was locked in.”

Her eyes went huge, filled with sympathy and what looked suspiciously like a touch of anger. He couldn’t be sure because he’d never seen that particular expression on her face. Even yesterday, when he’d given her such a hard time, she hadn’t looked quite so stormy.

Then her hand slowly left her mouth and curled into a fist. “You’re sitting here now, so I know you got through it, but how ?”

Definitely anger. On his behalf? Should he tell her the accusations from some people? Many people? Nah. Why bother? If she stayed around long, she’d get an earful.

“I waited for what felt like forever, until I couldn’t wait anymore.” The pain in his arm had grown severe, and he’d had to relieve himself in the closet, soiling the corner and the boxes stacked there. Maneuvering had been difficult, but he’d finally managed. “I sat on a clean spot on the floor and managed to brace my good arm and shoulder against the back wall. I used the leverage of my legs to kick the door until the frame split and it opened.”

This time Callie reached out, covering his hand with her own, squeezing as if to share her meager strength. “You must have been a very strong boy, physically and emotionally, to manage that.”

She didn’t know him and had no reason to care. Her reaction confused the hell out of him, making him want to retreat, except he’d long ago decided he was done retreating. Now if someone insulted him, he confronted them. When they whispered behind his back, he turned around and stared them down.

If they tried to take from him, or they insulted Addie or Kam, they opened the floodgates of hell and had to deal with the consequences.

One good thing about Callie’s touch, it brought him back around, helping him to focus again. It was still that way. Talking about his past, about the shit his dad had done… It would always plague him. He knew it. He worried that he was broken in ways that time wouldn’t fix. For that, he hated the man who had fathered him. Never, not once, had he visited his gravesite, and if he ever did it would be to spit on the ground.

“Tanner?” she asked gently, the soft tips of her fingers drifting over his rough knuckles. “What did you do once you were out? You were so young and had to be so scared, and with a broken bone…”

The way she said it, it did sound bad—and at the time, yeah, it was terrifying. He remembered feeling both free, but also utterly lost, so lost that the pain had receded behind other worries.

It was past time to put an end to the story. He hadn’t meant to share so many details anyway. “I left the house and started walking. Addie found me on her way home from a late shift and the rest is history.” Talk about an abbreviated ending. “I should add that she worked her tail off to get me and then to keep me.”

“What an absolutely amazing woman,” Callie whispered with awe. “I’m so thankful she’s the one who found you that night.”

He gave one quick nod because he was damn grateful, too. Now, being older and wiser, he knew that night could have gone in a very different direction. “Addie is a miracle worker, an angel, and a mother down to her soul, all wrapped up in strength and wisdom.”

Callie slipped her hand under his, gave his fingers a squeeze and then retreated. “I think I sensed all that. A tiny bit of it, at least.” She sipped more coffee, turned the cup a few times and traced a finger around the rim before saying, “Full disclosure, I walked into Reggie’s house and seriously wanted to groan. But Glory was there, already stressing and I knew you were watching, waiting for a single weakness.”

The teasing way she said it took the sting out of the words, yet he still felt like a dick. “Not entirely accurate. True, I’d rather you sell to me. Make it easier on both of us, you know?” It was all part of his big plan, a bone-deep need he had to put some good into the world, to give back even a small part of what Addie had given to him. “But while you’re coming to the conclusion that you’re not cut out for country life, I wouldn’t want to see you miserable.”

“Good, because I’m not yet certain what I want to do.”

Conflicting emotions kept Tanner still. “So you’re not planning to stay?” Why the hell did that make his heart sink?

“I wasn’t, not until you seemed so set on me going.” She gave him a crooked smile. “Like the sugar thing, I tend to dig in and get stubborn when I feel challenged.”

Well, damn. Fighting a grin, he asked, “How about if I retract all my initial complaints?”

“Too late. They’re already out there and I’m already thinking…things.”

Parts of his body took notice of how she said that and what it might imply.

“After Addie offered to go back with me today, I’m hoping she can make some suggestions on a cleaning crew I can hire and a junk hauler to remove a lot of ruined stuff. I’d like to get a sense of what I’m dealing with and I can’t until I can see past the trash and filth.”

Funny, but the idea of her sticking around wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. “In the end, you’ll see. The house needs more work than it’s worth and keeping up with the land is a lot for one person.”

Grinning, she leaned in to say, “Plus chickens I haven’t yet met, and goats that make the creepiest sounds ever.”

“That, too.”

Her grin settled into a sweet smile. “I might surprise you.”

She already had. “Every time I’ve ever seen you, you’re smiling.”

“Well…” She leaned closer still, as if to confide in him. “Don’t tell anyone, but that’s sort of my defense mechanism. I smile when I’m mad or scared. When I’m feeling a little lost or worried. When I’m sad, or when I’m ready to cry. A big smile not only confuses people, but it makes me feel better. And everyone looks prettier smiling, you know?”

He didn’t want to think of her crying, but he imagined she’d be pretty even then. At least to him. “How is it you inherited Reggie’s house?”

Before she answered, she stood and asked, “Mind if I get more coffee?”

“Help yourself.”

She refilled her cup, leaving room for more cream, and offered to refill his, too. Once that was done, she settled back into her seat, and sighed. “Like I said, Reggie was Dad’s brother and from what I was told, he was always in trouble. Drunk driving, petty theft, fighting—things that had him in and out of jail. Always needing money. At some point my mother put her foot down and refused to have any more association with him. Maybe Dad was glad for the excuse because he cut ties with Reggie.”

“Sounds like most families I’ve seen—imperfect in one way or another.”

“I guess, but I still felt bad for Reggie. Whenever he was around, he was always funny. He’d tell me jokes that my mother deemed improper.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. When I was young he told me a few, too. Difference is, Addie laughed with us.”

“Ha! I can imagine that. She’s much warmer and down to earth than my mother.”

Thank God. Taking in two troubled boys definitely required someone earthy.

“I snuck and visited Reggie a few times. When I graduated high school, he sent me a gift card to a fast food restaurant.” The memory had her grinning. “I met him there and we had lunch together using the gift card. Same when I graduated college. I told him he shouldn’t spend his money on me, but he said he’d ‘scored big’ and planned to use it all on gift cards as an excuse to visit me.”

“Reggie was feast or famine, but his idea of scoring big could have been a hundred bucks or five thousand. He didn’t value money the same way other people do.” And that included Tanner. He’d been poor, hungry, and dirty, and he knew the importance of every dime.

“He continued to send gift cards, but…then my life got busy. I called him a few times, and we talked about getting together.” Her voice lowered. “We never quite got around to it.”

“Hey, life happens.”

With a shake of her head, she softly admitted, “I didn’t even see my parents that often. Honestly, I didn’t think about Reggie. How awful is that?”

“I’m sure Reggie understood.”

“No, you said he was sick. He should have had some family around him. Even if it was only a weekly visit, I should have made the time.”

Tanner didn’t want her starting her day with guilt, so he might as well give her some truths. “The last few years, Reggie drank a lot. His liver was completely shot. The doctors told him if he didn’t stop drinking he’d die, and still he drank. Couple of times there it got so bad he’d spend a week in the ICU.”

Stricken, Callie stared at him. “I didn’t know that.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered. He’d get out of the hospital, last a few days, sometimes even a few weeks, then he’d get back to it. The man had a bad drinking problem and there’s not much you could have done for him. Believe me, Addie tried. We all did.”

New concern darkened Callie’s eyes. “That had to be especially hard for you.”

“Because of my dad? You’d think so, right? But Reggie was an all-around nice guy and a funny drunk. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. The worst he did was fall asleep with the chickens.” Remembering the day he’d found him there, passed out near the coop, Tanner shook his head. “Drunk or sober, he was generous and a good neighbor. But toward the end there, his liver just stopped working.” Reggie had been a mess, suffering and sorry, and he’d given up.

In a way, Tanner was glad Callie hadn’t witnessed him like that. “I’m sure your uncle wanted you to hold on to the better memories of him.”

Unconvinced, she rubbed her forehead. “I still feel terrible about it, especially since I didn’t even know he’d died until Dad told me after he was notified that Reggie named me in his will. He left me his house, a small bit of cash, and everything on his property.”

“I don’t expect it’ll be much. He has an old Buick that runs but is a little noisy. If you decide to sell it, I know a kid who could really use a reliable car.” He moved right on from that before she could ask for specifics. He didn’t want her to draw a parallel to his own miserable childhood pre-Addie. “Reggie’s tractor is in decent shape.”

Without much inflection, she asked, “Tractor?”

“To cut the land that’s cleared. You could use a riding mower, but it’d take a lot longer. Reggie used the tractor for his garden, too.”

“Garden?”

Tanner bit back a smug smile. Those one-word questions showed a lot of uncertainty. He’d give her a week, tops, and she’d be throwing in the towel. “Lots of hauling to do on acreage. There’s always a downed tree or two after every storm. We have storms in the forecast right now, you know. Tornadoes sometimes in the spring. If a tree limb hits your house, you’ll have shingle repairs—maybe roof repairs. We once had a big tree branch take out a window. Other chores are cleanup for the animals, clearing out the bugs all spring and summer, and you have to watch for critters. Raccoons especially. They’re hateful.”

After all that, Callie appeared shell-shocked, but she merely sipped her coffee, likely giving herself a second to absorb everything he’d thrown at her.

His conscience was nudging him at that point, even though running her off would be easier on them both in the long run. He wanted to distract her, maybe get her focus back on him, which might explain why he said, “I heard you in the woods.”

“Yesterday, you mean?”

Nodding, he clarified, “While you were talking to your cousin about breaking things off with some asshole named Sutter.”

Appalled, she slumped back in her seat. She wasn’t overwhelmed now. Nope. She looked embarrassed and annoyed, but only for a moment.

Then she smiled, and damn, it looked mean.

He rubbed a hand over his whiskers, heard the rasp, and wondered if he should excuse himself to shower and shave. He even glanced at the doorway.

Callie asked, “Am I holding you up?”

Had she read his mind? If so, it perversely made him determined to stay. No way would he be the first to retreat. “How could you, when I came to the kitchen for coffee?”

“Not for coffee with me , though.” She cradled the mug between her hands as she eyed him. “You can run along, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I can do any damn thing I want. I live here,” he reminded her. She was the interloper—an interloper he’d confided in for some damned reason. Now there was an excuse he could dig into. “I told you about me. Turnabout seems fair, so what’s with this Sutter jerk?”

“You heard enough to whet your appetite, is that it?”

She really was irked. He could see it on her face, hear it in her deliberately soft tone. Knowing how it felt to be cornered, he relented, but only a little. “I didn’t mean to listen in, but voices carry around here. You might want to remember that.”

Since he’d turned more congenial, her annoyance eased up, too. “Thinking about what parts you might have heard is pretty embarrassing.”

“Something about his dick in someone else’s hand.”

She sputtered at how he just threw that out there. Quickly, she set down her coffee and accepted the napkin Tanner offered her across the table.

Deadpan, he said, “Guess your coffee went down wrong.”

“Actually, your audacity choked me.” Her frown faded into a beautiful smile—the kind he associated with her. “So you heard all about Sutter, did you?”

“Afraid so.” That and a lot more. But he wouldn’t ask her about the pressure, and whatever harebrained plan her family had cooked up for her.

Like a warning, she said, “Just don’t think I’m heartbroken, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” But was she?

“When I busted him, honestly, it was a relief.”

“Is that so?” He wouldn’t pry, but he’d listen to anything she wanted to share.

“We’re going to be neighbors—”

“For the time being, anyway.”

She made a face at him for his continued insistence.

At this point, he did it more to rile her, and remind himself that it was temporary, than for any other reason.

“For the time being,” she conceded. Then she added, “And possibly longer, so it wouldn’t be right for me to hold a grudge over you listening in on a private conversation.”

“You practically blasted the news on a megaphone.”

“Plus,” she said, emphasizing the word. “Addie and Kam have been so welcoming. And you’ve tolerated me. Sort of.”

Gesturing at the table and shared coffees, he said, “For me, this is about as welcoming as it gets.”

With a sly smile, she drawled, “Well, that’s a pity.” The second she said it, her eyes went round and she clamped her mouth shut.

Flirting? Yeah, pretty sure that counted. How welcoming did she want him to be? He was about to ask, but she rushed into explanations about her bastard ex before he could formulate the question.

“Sutter and I had this idiotic arrangement and it was supposed to be a good way for two powerhouse families to unite. The eldest son of a family with an upscale chain of vacation accommodations, the only daughter from a family specializing in luxury travel, boom, instant harmony, specialized promotion, lucrative for all concerned. When he pitched the idea to me, or to my whole family, actually—”

“Is that a joke?”

“Nope. During dinner with my folks and Glory, he threw out the scenario like a business plan that started with us getting married.”

Tanner gave a low whistle. He’d never understand rich people. Pretty sure he didn’t want to. “Your folks should have told him to take a hike.”

“Are you kidding? They were ecstatic and toasting our impending nuptials before I could even process what had happened.”

“Then you should have told him to take a hike.”

“For real,” she readily agreed. “But it took me by surprise, and my parents were so psyched by the idea, going on and on about such a beneficial alliance and how lucky I was. I was already dating him, I worked with his family. Our families meshed and got along, and everyone seemed to assume we were headed for marriage anyway. I didn’t despise him or anything. I mean, he was nice enough, affluent, well connected and educated, and we had a decent time whenever we went out together.”

It annoyed Tanner that she didn’t mention love. Didn’t even hint at it. “Sounds like a really hot romance.”

Making a face, she admitted, “Tepid at best, but that had been all my relationships. At this point, I’m not sure ‘hot’ actually exists, at least it never has for me.”