Aware she was still waiting for an explanation, Dylan said casually, “Maybe I’m in need of a good evening meal?”
“And maybe you’re trying to get under my skin?”
“Always an unexpected bonus.”
Silence fell between them.
Emily continued to study him beneath the fringe of dark lashes. “So you’re not going to tell me what my dad said to you in private?” she said eventually.
And give her even more reason to rebel against her family? For both their sakes, Dylan checked his own desire. “No.” He offered her his arm. “Now, shall we go in?”
* * *
DINNER WITH EMILY’S parents turned out to be a lot less formal, and more comfortable, than Dylan had expected.
Xavier Shillingsworth, on the other hand, was as much of a pain in the rear as ever.
The hopelessly inexperienced restaurateur commandeered the conversation from the moment the five of them sat down at the wicker-and-glass patio table, zeroing in on everything he felt was wrong with the way Emily was running the Daybreak Café.
“I don’t understand why you’re only open for breakfast and lunch, six days a week,” Xavier told Emily. “I’ve seen the line of people waiting to get in. Why not serve dinner, too?”
“There are already plenty of places that serve dinner,” Emily explained. “My mother’s dance hall for one.”
Xavier leaned across the table toward Emily. “So?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to compete with her.”
Xavier frowned. “You compete with her at lunch.”
Emily paused, a forkful of baby-lettuce salad halfway to her mouth. “It’s not the same.”
“Why not?” Xavier persisted, failing to notice the discreet looks Shane and Greta were giving each other from opposite ends of the dinner table.
Emily shifted in her chair, her knee nudging Dylan’s briefly under the table. “Because the dance hall has live bands on Friday and Saturday evenings, and DJs in the evening the rest of the time.”
Xavier grimaced. “So play music in your café.”
“There’s no room to dance,” Emily said, still trying to talk sense to him.
Xavier finished his salad and pushed his plate to the side. “A lot of people don’t dance anyway.”
Dylan wondered if the kid thought he was going to attract Emily by criticizing her business sense. One thing was certain—he certainly wasn’t scoring any points with her or her folks. And if he treated the rest of the town this way...
“The point is, there is no demand for another dinner place right now,” Emily said matter-of-factly. “Laramie already has a handful of local establishments that have pretty much got the evening food covered.”
“And maybe if you tried, you’d have standing-room-only business at dinner, too, and force someone else to close down.”
Eyebrows raised all around at that.
Not good, dude, Dylan thought. Not good at all...
“I think the point my daughter is trying to make,” Shane McCabe cut in with remarkable kindness, “is that in Laramie, it’s not just the ranchers who help each other out. The business owners look out for one another, too.”
As Dylan expected, that notion didn’t go down well with their teenage guest.
Greta collected the empty salad plates and replaced them with servings of Southwestern-style meat loaf, mashed potatoes and peas. “We want all the restaurants to be successful, and of course that would include yours,” she told Xavier graciously.
Xavier sat up straighter, looking affronted. “I hope you’re not asking me to cut back on the hours the Cowtown Diner is open.”
Shane McCabe lifted a hand. “No one’s going to tell you what to do. It’s your business to run, after all. We’re just suggesting that you might want to join the chamber of commerce and any of the other service organizations in town that interest you. It’s a good way to get to know everyone and become a real part of the community.”
Xavier rejected the notion with a shake of his head. “I’m not interested in charity work. The only thing on my mind is turning as much of a profit as soon as possible.”
The kid just wasn’t getting it, Dylan thought. The McCabes were offering him a hand up. And he was too clueless and arrogant to take it.
“When is the grand opening?” Dylan asked, attempting to draw some fire himself.
Xavier dismissed Dylan with a glance that revealed Xavier still considered him “hired help.” “Friday.”
Emily studied the teen, suddenly on edge again. “You’re really going to be up and running three days from now?”
Nodding proudly, Xavier grinned at Emily. “I’ll bet you can’t wait.”
* * *
“CAN YOU WAIT?” Dylan asked Emily an hour later, after they had thanked her parents for dinner and said their goodbyes.
“Very funny, cowboy.”
Relieved that Xavier had finally rushed off to continue work on his restaurant, Emily ambled down the front steps to her car. Dylan was right beside her, a surprisingly steady presence.
“But as long as we’re recapping...” Emily paused to search through her bag for her keys. She looked at Dylan, wondering what his take on the situation was. His attitude throughout the meal had been so maddeningly inscrutable that she had no clue. “What was Xavier’s deal? He really went overboard with that intense interrogation.”
Dylan leaned against the side of her car, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded in front of him. Dusk had given way to night, and the sky overhead was filled with a full moon and a sprinkling of stars.
He gave her a bemused look. “I think that was Xavier taking self-absorbed to new heights.”
“Not to mention immaturity.” Emily fished the keys out. “Can you believe his father bought him a restaurant?” She closed the clasp on her handbag. “Never mind plunked it down in Laramie, Texas, of all places?”
He moved closer, smelling like soap and man. “I’m sure they both figured there would be less competition here, and hence, it would be easier for a greenhorn like Xavier to succeed.”
Emily bit her lip. Unable to take her eyes off his broad shoulders and nicely muscled chest, she said, “I suppose you’re right about that. If the kid were in Dallas or Houston, it would be a much tougher road for him to travel.”
“Although small towns come with challenges, too.” Dylan looked over at her, seemingly in no hurry to move on. “It was nice of your parents to invite him over, though.”
That was the way her folks were—generous and welcoming, to the bone. “They’re just trying to bring Xavier into the ‘fold’ of Laramie business people. Obviously, my mother did not anticipate the way he was going to go after me with the third degree, hinting that I didn’t know what I was doing, running my business.” Emily sighed, still feeling a little embarrassed about that.
Dylan met her eyes. “And yet you were incredibly nice and patient with the kid, too,” he observed kindly.
It hadn’t been easy,