They chatted the entire time. Neither mentioned the night before. She asked about places they passed on the drive and talked about Callie and Tim. He was relaxed and comfortable with her in a way he couldn’t explain. They were to their destination before they even had a chance to talk about the brochures.
“What’s the deal with the airport? Why are we here?” she asked.
“My friend Dirk runs a–” He stopped as Dirk met them at the door.
Dirk clapped him on the back and shook his hand. “Good to see you, Brock,” he said, then glanced at Delaney a couple of paces behind him. “Whoa, who’s the babe?” he whispered.
Brock shook his head. Dirk led them into his office, a place that always amazed him. The building was new, but stepping into this room was like entering a different era. Antique airplane parts filled the small space. Papers were tossed all over.
At the desk, Dirk turned to him. “I couldn’t get in touch with the marketing guy. We’ll have to get back to that in a couple of days.”
“No, we don’t need him. Let me introduce you to Delaney Breaux,” he said, turning to her where she’d stopped at the door. “Delaney, this is Dirk–”
“Broussard,” Dirk cut in, and crossed the office to stand next to her and study her intently.
She cleared her throat and her tension was almost palpable. Something had shaken her. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Dirk.”
“Actually I think we’ve met before. My father and Senator Broussard are brothers. I believe it was at my Aunt Gin’s house.”
“Oh.” A stricken expression flashed in her eyes, but she recovered quickly.
Dirk shook his head. “It was ages ago. Anyway, you look familiar.”
“Yes, years. But I do remember you…now.” Her gaze landed on Brock and he could swear there was more she wanted to say.
“Well then,” Dirk said, and headed for a round table in the corner of his office. They followed him and got settled. Brock dropped the brochures he brought in. Dirk pulled out the much newer ones for Jump Shot’s skydiving service.
“Skydiving?” Delaney said faintly.
“Actually my main business is aerial photography, but maybe with Brock’s cooperation we’ll both pull in more business.”
She nodded.
“Darlin’, don’t tell me you’ve never jumped,” Dirk said.
“No. Too dangerous.” She met Brock’s gaze. “I guess you do.” It was a statement. As if she already knew the answer. And didn’t approve.
It was the first time in his life he’d considered someone else’s feelings about his adventurous side. He tempered his answer. “I have, a time or two.”
Dirk’s head whipped around.
“Oh,” she said.
“What exactly are you two talking about doing?” she asked, scowling. “What kind of co-operation? Are you two danger nuts planning on offering the general public some sort of extreme sporting package here?”
Her disapproval was heavy, but he had to hand it to her. She was a huge help over the next couple of hours as they discussed package possibilities, pricing and advertising. It was pushing five o’clock when they tied things up.
“How about I buy you two a drink at Black’s before you go back out to the Bayou?” Dirk offered.
“Sounds like a plan,” Brock said. Delaney gathered the papers and notes she had assembled while they talked. “What do you say?”
She looked up as if she’d only just heard him. “What?”
“I think we all deserve a drink before we head back. We made more headway than I thought we could in one afternoon. Callie sounded like she was going to be tied up. You should be free.”
“Sure. That’s fine, but what time is it?”
He checked his watch. “Five thirty. Shit.” They had forgotten the invitations. “Dirk, we’ll meet you out at Black’s…there’s something we need to take care of,” he finished, as they rushed out the door.
In the parking lot, Dirk said behind him, “I’m sure I’m missing something here.”
“See ya,” he shouted, not looking back.
* * * *
They made it to the post office in time and mailed the invitations.
Delaney’s stomach rumbled, and for the first time, she realized they had skipped lunch.
“Black’s is just a hole in the wall,” Brock said, taking her attention from the fields of sugar cane they drove past.
Glancing his way was the wrong thing to do. She wanted him with such an overwhelming force. He was strong and solid and steady.
No. Dangerous. “Is there food?”
“They make a mean homemade hamburger.”
He pulled in and parked at the end of a small strip mall that seemed to pop up in the middle of nowhere. She liked the rusty, half painted sign above the door. It had great appeal.
Brock helped her out of the truck, and the heat of his hands at her waist stoked a fire that had been threatening to start all day.
“I don’t see Dirk’s Jeep. We must have beat him here.” He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her toward the door.
She was in way over her head.
“Let’s grab a booth and order.” Brock said.
Inside the bar was dark and a little dingy, but the booths were spotless and each had a light hanging above. They had their pick of places to sit. An older lady called a greeting to Brock as they entered, and following them to the booth, dropped two menus on the table.
“Just you two?” she asked.
“Dirk might join us.”
“Holler when you’re ready, hon,” she said with a nod, returning to the bar.
A couple of pool tables stood across the room. Near the back a sign indicated restrooms, to the side was a DJ booth. A pretty good sized dance floor was smack dab in the middle of the room. She took a better look at the antique bar and scattered pub tables they had passed on the way in. Interesting place.
“See anything?” Brock asked.
“Oh, uh, a burger’s fine.”
“You sure? You seem distracted.”
“Nope, just checking out the place.”
“I’ll go put in our order. Be right back.”
He returned with a draft beer for each of them. “Forgot to ask what you’d like to drink. I can get something else.”
“No, this is fine, thanks.”
She liked a cold beer now and then. They’d had their share one night in Austin. That week had been replaying in her head for the past couple of days. What was it about him? About that time in her life that made the memories so clear?
Adjusting in her seat, she tried to shake off the thought. Over the years, she’d probably pumped up the memories of him. The reality couldn’t have been as good as she remembered. Did she want the opportunity to find out?
The round, middle-aged waitress deposited their food on the table. “Ya’ll need anything else?”
Brock shook his head, and the waitress took off.
“This is the biggest hamburger I believe I’ve ever seen,” she said.