“True.” Lorenda punched a few more keys and shut down her computer. “The kids’ school principal insisted on walking me to my car after a parent-teacher conference, and we were supposedly engaged by the next morning.” Lorenda straightened some papers on her desk. “And there were no adults over the age of forty around the elementary school that day, trust me.”
“What am I going to do?” Miranda rested her elbows on the desk and plopped her head in both hands.
“Ignore it.” Lorenda gave Miranda’s arm a sisterly squeeze.
When Miranda looked up, Lorenda’s look was earnest.
“Even if it’s true, ignore it.” One side of her mouth lifted into a sympathetic smile. “Are you and Talmadge . . . you know?”
“No, we’re not.” We did once. A very long time ago . . . at your wedding reception. Heat flooded through Miranda, and she studied the bank of snow that lined Main Street through the large office window. Not even Lorenda knew about Miranda’s long ago tryst with Talmadge, and she wasn’t about to give out that 4-1-1 now. Not after so many years.
Why bring up the humiliating past with Lorenda now, when those stupid pictures were already capable of sinking her reputation and possibly her respectability as a business owner before she even opened?
“’Cause I gotta say, girlfriend, you two were going at it pretty good in that photo.”
“It was an accident!” Miranda blustered.
Good Lord.
Lorenda’s brows rose. “How exactly was that an accident?”
When Miranda glared at her, Lorenda said, “I’m not judging. Lord, I’m as green with envy as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” Lorenda laughed. “See how pathetic I am? My vocabulary has graduated from Kermit the Frog to Donatello, and that’s all I have to look forward to with two adolescent boys.”
With that, Miranda softened her tone. Lorenda had been a single mom since her husband was killed in action when their two boys were both still in diapers. She’d sacrificed any attempt to meet a nice guy and devoted herself to raising her kids.
“Well, we’re not.” Not that Miranda hadn’t thought about it. Dreamed of it. Fantasized about Talmadge for the past twenty-four hours straight. But some things were just that—fantasies. Never meant to become reality. They lived different lives. Had different dreams. And their lives and dreams were half a continent apart, which made any chance of her and Talmadge getting together impossible unless it was a temporary fling.
If Miranda ever trusted a man enough to give up even a smidgen of her independence, it would have to be forever. With a ring, and a license, and witnesses. And maybe a law passed by the US Supreme Court stating that he would be Miranda’s equal, her partner for life—not just until her money ran out or a better piece of tail came along like one of her mother’s notorious boyfriends.
“He owes me a ladder.” Miranda huffed. And an apology for ordering me around in my own inn.
“What?” Lorenda gave her a confused look.
Miranda shook her head. “Never mind.”
Lorenda drew in a motherly breath, slow and methodical, then let it out. “Want to get some lunch?” Lorenda came around to Miranda’s side of the desk and propped her butt on the edge. “My treat to cheer you up.”
Miranda stood, and Lorenda gave her a hug. “Do you have a paper bag I can wear over my head? Because everyone in this town now thinks I’m sleeping with Talmadge Oaks.”
Chapter Seven
After Talmadge’s meeting with Angelique, he crossed Main Street and climbed the front stairs at Cotton Eyed Joe’s, where he and Langston planned to meet for lunch. Maybe he could enlist his buddy’s help with the inn. Talmadge sure as hell was going to need it now that Miranda’s renovations had become his primary building project instead of Trinity Falls. He was going to have to double-time it to finish the inn so he could get back to Washington.
A wave of panic skated over him.
He needed that money in Bea’s account, but would staying here for the next several weeks doom Trinity Falls completely? Miranda also had to agree to him taking charge of the renovations. Without him telling her about his inheritance. If her attitude toward him this morning was any indication, he doubted she’d be willing to follow his lead. And why did the prospect of working side by side with Miranda make his panic shift to anticipation?
The large room at Joe’s that tripled as a dining room, bar, and dance hall bustled with lunchtime patrons, but his eyes locked onto Miranda.
Sitting in one of Joe’s red leather booths at the back of the restaurant with Langston’s sister, Lorenda, Miranda laughed. Threw her head back and laughed like a carefree kid. Her profile was perfect. The slight upturn of her nose right at the tip was elegant. She was so natural. So beautiful. Miranda’s long silky curls bounced around her shoulders, a wisp falling over a smooth cheek.
From a booth along the right wall, Langston lifted a hand and waved Talmadge over. The familiar red-checkered tablecloths and the crunch of discarded peanut shells sent an odd feeling of comfort coursing through him like he was home.
Home.
He slid into the seat opposite Langston.
“I took the liberty.” Langston pointed to the mugs of beer on the table. He grabbed menus and tossed one across the table. Aviators were pushed up into Langston’s wavy brown hair, his face was bronzed from extreme skiing, and he still sported the same boyish grin from their teenage years when he’d blocked for Talmadge on the football team.
Talmadge took a pull from the frosty mug and glanced at Miranda.
She and Lorenda both stared in his direction. Lorenda gave a friendly wave, so he waved back. Miranda didn’t appear as happy to see him. Her dimples disappeared, and a frown replaced the hearty smile that had been on her face.
“I haven’t seen your sister since I’ve been in town. How are she and the kids?” Talmadge knew the entire town still felt the hole left when her husband was killed in action. Talmadge and Langston felt it too, because they’d all been high school friends.
“The boys are growing up fast. Lorenda’s still bossy. I tried to sit by her, and she kicked me out of the booth so they could talk girl stuff.” Langston shuddered. “So are you going to give your old buddy a huge discount on a vacation condo in your swanky new green town when it’s finished?” Langston gave him a boyish grin. “’Cause the only way I could afford it is if it’s close to free.”
Talmadge’s chest went cold. “Sure.”
Langston eyed him over the menu. “Is the new town still going to happen? Trinity Falls has to be the most innovative idea of the century.”
Not so much.
A heavy sigh flowed out of Talmadge. “I’m working on it.” That was the best answer he could give because his ability to manage the crisis in Washington had become infinitely more difficult a few minutes ago in Angelique Barbetta-Holloway’s office.
Langston gave him an I-know-bullshit-when-I-hear-it look. “What’s the plan to get it going again?”
“Like I said, I’m working on it.” He tried to keep the pessimism out of his tone, but Langston’s raised brow told him he hadn’t been the least bit convincing.
Langston leaned in and dropped his voice. “Are things that bad? I know the project has kind of gone to shit, but it hasn’t been flushed completely down the toilet, has it?”
Talmadge shrugged. “It’s circling the bowl.”
Langston sat back. “Don’t give up on it yet. The idea was great.”
Right. So great it was about to ruin Talmadge financially and professionally. If he left a town half built and uninhabitable, he’d lose the confidence of the entire architectural industry and the environmental community, all in one swoop. If he had to tear it down, it would ruin him and most of his financial backers. If that happened, he doubted he could find investors to build out-houses in the future.
When Talmadge didn’t respond, Langston got the hint and dropped it. “How’s the arm?”
“Hurts like hell.” Talmadge rolled his
slinged shoulder and fought a grimace. “How’s the new job as a helicopter EMT?”
“Flight paramedic,” Langston corrected. “Different than being in an ambulance, but good. I like it a lot.”
“Here’s to career changes.” Talmadge raised his mug.
Their mugs clinked together, and they both took a long drink. Langston gave him a curious look. “Is there a hidden meaning in that statement?”
Without thinking, Talmadge shrugged the wrong shoulder and winced, reaching to massage out the pain. “Looks like I might be here longer than I expected.” He glanced in Miranda’s direction. She tossed that silky hair over a shoulder and leaned in to say something to Lorenda. “Some things have . . . come up.”
“Uh-huh. I saw the Red River Rag.” Langston eyed him. “Would one of those things be sitting across from my sister?”
Talmadge’s eyes darted in Miranda’s direction again.
“Maybe.” He twisted the frosty mug in a circle. “It has something to do with Bea’s last wishes. I have to jump through a few hoops before I can go back to Washington.” How could he not do what Bea asked, after all she’d done for him? Plus, I need the money that’s waiting in the Red River bank.
Guilt washed through him. What would Bea have thought if she knew how much he needed that money? She’d have finally figured out what an awful person he was—the thing he’d been trying to hide since his parents’ accident.
He took another long swallow of cold beer. Maybe the alcohol would numb his whirring brain for a few minutes so he could relax, because he wasn’t sure Miranda would let him take over the renovations no matter how much she needed his skills and expertise. “It’s complicated.” And a bad idea, because every time he stepped into a room with her all reason went sailing out the window and plunged over a cliff. “But Miranda is sort of one of the hoops.”
She glanced in his direction like she knew he was talking about her. Her gaze flicked away immediately, but she was watching him. His pulse revved to a low thrum.
“If you’re going to be in town for awhile, our new chiropractor can probably help with your shoulder.”
Talmadge rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. Wow, Red River is really growing. Lots of new professionals have moved here since I came home last.”
“All the new casinos and movie studios going up around the state created a demand and lots of new jobs.” Langston grabbed some peanuts out of the tin bucket at the end of the table and cracked open the shells. He popped a few in his mouth and munched. “They’ll all want to vacation in Red River, so I expect new vacation cabins to start springing up.”
Talmadge’s gaze eased back to Miranda, her silky hair, pretty face, and perfectly proportioned body drawing his attention like a beautifully designed piece of architecture would.
Langston jerked his chin over one shoulder toward Miranda. “She’s a good catch. Lots of guys in this town have tried to date her. They’ve all crashed and burned.”
The waitress came over and took their order, then scurried over to the bar.
“At the funeral, your mom made it a point to mention you still weren’t married.” Talmadge gave Langston an evil grin. “Why don’t you date Miranda?”
“I tried. She wasn’t interested. Said I wasn’t grown up enough.” Langston shrugged, a noncommittal way of admitting it was true. “Besides, she’s like a little sister. She spent as much time around my house growing up as I did. But if the photo on the Rag is any indication, I’d say she’s plenty interested in you.”
Talmadge shook his head. “Not gonna happen. I’ve got enough to worry about right now.” As much as Miranda made his brain go soft and his groin go hard, he shouldn’t start something with her that he couldn’t finish. “That would just complicate my life even more.”
“Women always do. I still can’t even figure out my sister,” Langston said on a groan. “And don’t get me started on my mother.”
Lorenda and Miranda stood to leave, tossing their purses onto their shoulders.
“Listen, Bea wanted me to make sure the inn opened as planned. Apparently the remodel isn’t going well for the new owner.”
As the girls headed toward the front of Joe’s, Lorenda detoured toward their table. Miranda let out a muffled protest, but Lorenda must not have heard her, because she kept coming their way. Miranda hesitated. Looked to the front door, then at Talmadge. Reluctantly, she followed Lorenda.
“Think you can help me out with that?” Talmadge asked him before the girls were within hearing range.
“Anything for you and Bea.” Langston chugged his beer. “And Miranda.”
Talmadge could never repay the network of friends and family who had checked on Bea since he’d moved away, and Langston was at the top of the list along with Miranda. His gaze darted to her.
She and Lorenda walked up behind Langston at the precise moment that the big lout said, “So back to the photo of you feeling up Miranda.”
Talmadge’s mouth went dry, and he shook his head as a signal for Langston to shut it. It seemed a little more discreet than yelling at his buddy to shut the hell up in a public place. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, because Langston kept on talking.
“She looked pretty into it. I gotta say, buddy, I was surprised, because Miranda Cruz doesn’t sleep around.”
Talmadge exhaled. Should’ve yelled at him. Or smacked him upside the head.
“Hello, boys.” Lorenda’s voice was chastising like she was talking to one of her kids, and she glared at her brother. Langston jumped at Lorenda’s voice. His head swiveled around to find her standing at his back, and he blanched.
Miranda’s eyes rounded, then narrowed. A deep red burned up her neck and then settled in her cheeks, her lips thinning into a frown.
“Uh,” was all Talmadge could manage. He had nothing else.
“I see the two of you are just as mature as ever.” Lorenda turned her sharp glare on Talmadge.
“We were just—” Talmadge stumbled over the words until Miranda folded both arms under her full breasts. His gaze slid over the sapphire-blue sweater that accentuated her figure, the sight grinding his brain functions to a complete halt.
“I know exactly what you were doing.” Miranda elbowed Lorenda aside so she could lean over the table and speak in an angry whisper. “No, Langston Brooks, I . . .” Red seeped all the way to the tips of her ears, and her eyes shifted to Talmadge before returning to Langston. Like she was remembering. “I do not sleep around, for all the good it’s done me. Everyone in Red River thinks that I do now . . . thinks that I’ve slept . . . with . . .” Her gaze slid to Talmadge again, and flecks of fire danced in the brown of her eyes. “I can’t build a business if no one in this town respects me. So stay away from me and the inn. I can’t afford any more gossip.”
He opened his mouth to say he was sorry for offending her, but instead, “You’re wrong. My presence would attract business and help your reputation,” came out. “I could renovate the inn better than anyone else. It’ll be completely energy efficient if I do it.”
Wait. Did he really just say that? Because that wasn’t even close to what he’d intended.
Langston coughed something that sounded like “oh shit” behind his hand.
Miranda’s flame-throwing glare told Talmadge that he’d just screwed up big time.
“Have you forgotten that you don’t live in Red River, Mr. Oaks? And even if you did, what makes you so sure I’d give you the job?”
“Because I’m the best, and you need me,” he blurted. Both true, but shit. Could he have sounded more like an arrogant asshole if he’d tried?
Langston coughed again.
She handed Lorenda her purse and took a step toward Talmadge. “Oh, really?” Both hands went to her curvy hips, and Talmadge wanted to lick his lips. “Then try this on for size.”
Plastering on a sad puppy-dog look, she raised her voice for the crowd to hear. “Oh, Talmadge,” she said dramatically.
Both of his eyes w
ent wide. What in the hell was she doing?
“I know I’m not good enough for you, but to hear you say it . . . hurts!” She emphasized the last word so much it reminded him of the time he had to watch Gone with the Wind with Bea. “And to say you can’t stand Bea’s ugly dog is almost . . . cruel.”
Gasps zinged around Joe’s, and several women tried to incinerate him with dirty looks.
Talmadge closed his eyes for a second, only to open them and find Miranda tearing up. She was good. Her mother should’ve named her Scarlet.
Miranda sucked in a deep breath and let loose again. “You’ve broken my heart and Lloyd’s too, but I can forgive you. I just want one last kiss before you leave us for good.”
Before Talmadge knew what was happening, Miranda sank both hands into his hair and laid the sweetest, sexiest, deepest kiss on him. The softness of her lips pulled him into a dream world, and his arm threaded around her waist.
A female voice rang out. “That’s it, honey! Show him what he’s lost!”
She deepened the kiss.
Her warm breaths whispered across his stubbled jaw, and her honeyed taste made him want more of her. One hand kneaded up her spine, flexing and rubbing the softness of her sweater against her toned back.
“Uh-huh,” another female voice hollered. “Make him sorry!”
And just as quick as Miranda had advanced on him, she broke the kiss and backed away. Her absence left him cold, unsatisfied, wanting her back against him. Already lonely for her.
“There,” she whispered. “That should give them something to talk about.”
Several women clapped in support of the damsel in distress. Talmadge thought he heard the word schmuck echo through the room, but he couldn’t be sure, because his brain had fogged over.
Taking her purse from Lorenda, Miranda pulled large sunglasses from her bag and perched them on the end of her nose with slow, exaggerated movements.
“Have a good day, boys,” she said so only the four of them could hear. She pushed the sunglasses up the length of her nose with an index finger. “I’d call you gentlemen, but the term doesn’t seem deserved.”
It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) Page 9
