And now with that load of guilt increased ten times over, it just might be the end of him, too.
Dammit, but he should have known better. Trying not to think of the other night, he took Firebrand into a gallop. His thoughts caught up with him anyway.
Dana had looked so beautiful in that pink dress. And—for the first time in his life—he’d found her within his reach.
He couldn’t keep from touching her, couldn’t help but want to get her out of that gown and into his arms. Couldn’t stop himself from making love with her.
For the only time in his life?
He leaned into Firebrand, urging him to fly as if a monster nipped at their heels.
* * *
EARLY FRIDAY MORNING, Dana sat at her desk at Wright Place Realty. Outside the storefront window, Signal Street was bathed in September sunshine. Inside the office, she felt swathed in a sense of gloom heavy enough to cut with a knife. She missed having Tess around. She missed seeing Ben—though that was the last thing she should want.
Thank heaven, Kayla had shown up for their meeting, giving her a much-needed break from her wayward thoughts. She leaned back in her swivel chair and looked across the desk. “This idea’s sounding better and better every time we discuss it.”
Kayla smiled in satisfaction. “I know it is.”
They wanted to convince the town council to build a playground for the children of Flagman’s Folly, a place where kids of all ages could come together. At the moment, the town’s limited options included the day care center, with its small fenced-in area, and the sneaker-worn plot of grass running behind the elementary and high schools.
“We’ve got some time till the next council meeting,” she told Kayla, “but we need to start looking for locations. First, though, we should check zoning ordinances.”
“I can take care of that. You might have your hands full with Ben.”
She stiffened. “Ben?”
“Yes. He told Sam last night he’s thinking about doing some work in here.”
She tried not to groan. When he had bought this building, he had promptly lowered her rental fees. If he planned to sink money into the property, would he feel the need to raise the rent again? Would he do that regardless, as a way to get back at her for what had happened between them?
No, not Ben.
Still, by the time the newlyweds returned, she could be in big trouble. Maybe she should have agreed to Caleb’s offer of an advance. But accepting, after the way she’d denied needing it, was out of the question—even though Tess had probably seen right through her. After all, they had both been in the same precarious financial situation until just recently. Well, fingers crossed, Caleb’s friend Jared would prove himself a real, live customer.
Avoiding Kayla’s eyes, she straightened the paperwork on her desk. “I’m sure, sooner or later, I’ll hear what he’s got in mind.”
“I’d go with sooner.” Kayla sounded amused. “He’s just about to walk in the door.”
* * *
“WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU today?” Dana asked.
Seeing her through the office window had cranked up the heat inside Ben. But now he winced as a chill settled over him. One that had nothing to do with the air that swept into the room as Kayla pulled the door closed on her way out.
Come to think of it, she’d left in a hurry. Maybe she hadn’t much cared for the chill around there, either.
Behind her desk, Dana looked cool all over, too, from her blond hair to her blue blouse to the bare hands she had folded in front of her. A big difference from the way he’d seen her last, with her hair loose and her pink dress unbuttoned and her pale skin peeking through the back of the gown as she’d run up the stairs. She had just sent him on his way and, still, it had taken everything in him to keep from following her.
He tightened his grip on the clipboard in his hands and swallowed hard. Steady, now. Just friends.
Her icy question, one she would’ve aimed at anyone who walked through the door, said she might not even consider them that. “Uh. Listen, about the other night—”
She turned red to her hairline. “Please.” She coughed and began again. “That’s...something we shouldn’t mention. Forget the other night. I have.”
He nodded. She’d forced her tone to go along with the whole cool package, telling him she had no intention of making things easy between them. Well, he’d already taken on that job. To make things better. Not to argue with her but to help her.
Whether she wanted his help or not.
Of course, with the way she felt about that, he couldn’t tell her outright. He raised his hand, waving with the clipboard he held. “I need to take a few measurements.”
“What for?”
Her question took him aback—until he saw the small indentation between her brows. After all these years, he could read her every expression. The tiny frown meant something worried her. Keeping his tone level, he said, “I’m thinking about putting down new tile in here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the floor.”
“An upgrade might be nice, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “If you want the truth, I think it’s fine the way it is.”
Why had he bothered to ask? “Thanks for the input.” As nicely as he could, he added, “Think I’ll go with the new tile. Might look good to your customers.”
She sighed. “We don’t have any clients, Ben.”
He stilled. That sentence told him what had caused the worry line between her brows. Hearing it took the irritation right out of him. The sudden wry smile she sent his way made his pulse jump.
“You know, if Caleb hadn’t bought that ranch,” she added, “I’d be up Sidewinder Creek without a paddle.”
“We’ve done that once before, haven’t we?”
She laughed. “Yes, I guess we have.”
Their eyes met. For a moment the shared memory from their grade-school days brought them close again.
“And,” she continued, “you’d think I would learn from my mistakes.”
She meant more than that day long ago. “Well,” he said, unwilling to go where that would lead, “the thought of getting caught right now can’t be so alarming, considering the creek’s about a foot and a half deep from the drought.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Then all the more reason to try to lure customers for you.”
She stared at him. The close moment ended as abruptly as if she had slammed the office door between them. “Thanks,” she said finally. “But I can manage.”
“How?” he asked, gripping the clipboard. “You’re not expecting another Caleb Cantrell to just happen along, are you?”
“Maybe. A friend of his is flying in next week to look at property. But—”
“Yeah, Caleb mentioned that.”
“—my business isn’t your worry.”
“Fair enough.” No, it wasn’t fair at all. Her words stung, and he fought to shrug off his frustration. “This office is my concern, though. So is the entire building. And if I see improvements needing to be done, I’ll make ’em.”
“Fine. As long as you’re aware I’m not obligated to pay you anything more than the rent we decided on. And