“Do you feel better?”
Jack caught Rose’s reflection in the glass and raised a surprised eyebrow. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Yes, it is,” she said. “I’ll expect double overtime for this.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. She’s probably not kidding. “What’s wrong?”
“I had your pilot call me when you left New York so I could be here when you got back.”
Jack suppressed a sigh. He knew that tone. She’d used it on him since he was ten years old, when he used to make trouble at his grandfather’s office during summer break. She had prepared herself for a fight.
Great. Whatever she wanted, she could have. He didn’t have the energy to argue.
He turned away from the window. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
“Did you get everything taken care of today?”
He narrowed his eyes. It’s too easy. “Not everything, but I got the job back on schedule. Why?”
“Good. And what about that article? You get that worked out in your head?”
I knew it. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
She folded her arms and planted her feet. “Hmph. I spoke to someone today who very much wanted to talk about it.”
Maren. So now she wants to talk. Now, though, he didn’t want to hear it. “Then talk to her about it. I’m not going to have this conversation.”
“Of course you aren’t.” Rose cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a stubborn old coot, just like your grandfather.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me an ‘old coot’ before.”
“Then somebody should have.” Her expression softened a little, and she stepped forward and took a seat. “You know, your grandfather and I were very close.”
“I know.” He tilted his head to the side and studied her. He had known Rose ever since he could remember, and he didn’t think he had ever seen an expression quite like that on her face.
“But you don’t know how close. After your grandma died,” her eyes flickered downwards, “years after, of course, your grandfather and I developed a real . . . fondness for each other.”
Wait. What? Rose and Grandpa? “Really?”
Her eyes snapped back up to his. “Don’t sound so shocked. I’ll have you know, Jack D’loyd Mason, that I was quite something in my day.”
“I’m sure you were, Rose,” he said. “You’re quite something now.”
Her eyes lit with a smile that made her look ten years younger. “You have his charm, you know. But Matthew was determined to keep up appearances. He didn’t want any of you to think he was being unfaithful to your grandmother’s memory, even though she had been gone for years by then.”
“None of us would have thought that.” He sank down into the chair opposite her. “You were the only reason we didn’t worry more about him being alone. As long as you were around to take care of him, we knew he’d be okay.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Your grandfather was very special to me. But he was too stubborn and too worried about what everyone else would think to ever let us be anything more than close friends. I think we both suffered for it. I know I did.”
Wow. “I never knew.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she replied primly. “Your father never even knew. The only reason I’m telling you now is because I want to know if you plan to spend the rest of your life without her just to save your pride.”
Ah, crap. He sat back in his chair. “This is not even remotely the same.”
“Well, I don’t want to put my nose in your business—”
He rolled his eyes. “You’ve never worried about that before”
“But,” she continued with that schoolmarm glare that still made him want to shrink in his chair, “that girl has always been a sore subject for you, and I expect that’s not all her fault. You let her get away too easily, and you’re too quick to jump to conclusions. You need to let her talk.”
He shoved up from his chair and gestured at the paper lying on his desk. “She’s always been a sore subject because I can’t come near her without chaos taking over.”
The word Rose uttered was hardly lady like, especially for a woman her age, but it got her point across. Jack bit down on a smile. “You still have a soft spot for her, and you’re too proud to admit it.”
“Please,” he snorted. “Since she’s been home, I’ve done nothing but try to help her and in return for my troubles, I get a feature story in the morning news. A bad one. I don’t need this.”
Rose slowly pushed herself up from the chair, her faded eyes sparkling. “Yes. You absolutely do. Now, go home and get some sleep. You look terrible.”
She shuffled out of his office, and the quiet fell like a heavy black coat on his shoulders. Rose and Grandpa. Who would’ve thought?
He finished off his bourbon and plunked the glass down on the counter. Rose was fiercely protective of her “boys,” which included him, his father and his father’s brother, in addition to her own two sons. Normally, anyone brave enough to take one of them on would find themselves on the bad side of her razor-sharp tongue.
But instead of getting the verbal lashing he would have expected, Maren had found an ally. Not all her fault. Too quick to jump to conclusions. Either Rose’s long buried feelings for his grandfather had softened her or . . .
Or what?
He frowned thoughtfully. Or Maren had convinced Rose that she hadn’t betrayed him after all. How? Rose was anything but softhearted. What had Maren said to make Rose take her side? He wanted to believe Maren hadn’t meant this. Did that make him a fool?
Maybe. Maybe not. But he could at least listen to what she had to say.
Jack rinsed out the glass and settled in behind his desk, his eyes falling again to the morning paper. Whatever else Maren had done, she’d bought a lot more trouble than she came to town with. Lance and the rest of the aldermen wouldn’t be happy. Jack had his hands full trying to keep Lance in the background while he worked something out. Now, Lance would be front and center whether Jack wanted him there or not.
Leave it to Maren to pick a fight with an entire county. Lord help her.
He picked up the paper and scanned the article again, then shook his head and set it down again. Just in case the almighty decided not to step in, he’d better have a few ideas of his own.
# # #
Maren rubbed her palms together, then swiped them against the black slacks that had replaced yesterday’s denim shorts. Rose had promised to get her into Jack’s office. All she had to worry about was Jack.
Yeah. Great. Just Jack. No biggie. Yesterday, she had marched into his office running on pure adrenaline. Today? She’d had time to read and re-read those newspaper articles. She’d had time to lie awake, wondering if she could convince him that Ron had been the culprit, not her.
She’d had enough time to work herself into a real tizzy over this.
She squared her shoulders and marched up to Jack’s door. Rose, true to her word, had taken care of Vera. Maren’s lips curled into a reluctant smirk. Rose was a force of nature. Vera never stood a chance. On the other hand, Maren would rather take on half a dozen sour assistants and a whole fleet of security guards than face Jack after he’d had a day to brood.
She raised her hand to knock, paused, then dropped it again. She’d spent the evening rehearsing what she would say, and every word had flown from her head. Rose had said he was angry. What if he didn’t believe her? What if he threw her out? I should have sent him an email.
Jeez, Maren, stop running away. She’d created this mess. She had to at least try to fix it. If he didn’t believe her, it wouldn’t matter once she went back to Seattle. She’d know she’d done everything she could. Her conscience would be clear.
Okay, pep talk over with. Go. She braced herself, swung the door open, and stopped dead at the sight of him. He sat behind his desk, a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. An impossibly thick stack of papers lay in front
of him. The tie that she had only imagined a few nights ago hung from his neck, a splash of slim red color over the crisp white material of his shirt. His jacket hung over one of the leather chairs on the other side of the desk.
She smoothed a light-yellow blouse over her stomach, curled her fingers into fists, then dropped her hands to her side. He stared back at her, his face expressionless, and a tight knot of tension twisted in her stomach. Her mind went blank. She stared at him a long moment. Maybe he would come to her rescue.
Ha.
She shifted her weight from one foot to another and flicked her tongue across a top lip that had gone dry. “If it makes you feel better, I had to take the phone off the hook at the house.”
As if on cue, her phone let out a sharp ring, and Maren flinched. She shoved her hand in her purse and clicked the button to silence the call without dropping Jack’s gaze.
He didn’t move. “Sit.”
Well, that beat “get out,” but not by much. She edged forward and into one of the chairs opposite him. He glared back at her, and she forced herself to sit still. “I’ve talked to Ron about this. He asked if I wanted to print a retraction. He got carried away. He was—”
Stop. She clamped her mouth shut. If she didn’t get herself under control, she’d be babbling like an idiot.
Jack’s gaze locked on hers. “What did you say to him?”
“I was trying to tell my side of the story,” she began.
His eyes darkened. “That was your side of the story?”
“No!” Calm down. She would never convince him of her innocence if she sounded guilty. “No. I told him about the farm’s history, my grandparents’ story. Ron said….” She trailed off.
“What did he say?”
Maren shivered at the frigid thread in Jack’s voice. “He said he would tell me what he knew about the project. All he wanted from me was the background on the farm.”
His expression remained unreadable. “And you didn’t think I would want to know about the story before it broke?” he asked. “You didn’t think you should mention that interview to me?”
Wait a minute. She frowned. “You knew I was going to talk to him. You were there when he gave me his card.”
“I didn’t think you were actually going to call him.” His mouth set into a thin line.
A tiny sliver of annoyance slipped into her stomach. “How is that my fault?”
“I can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ask him to print a story like that.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, green eyes sparking.
“I didn’t,” she said through gritted teeth.
“But this was your story.” His tone brought goosebumps to her skin, and she fought off a sudden shiver. “You asked him for the interview. What did you think he would do?”
“Tell the truth.”
“The ‘epic struggle of good against evil,’ remember? He hates me. You knew that.”
Maren clenched her teeth. He had been wronged here. He had a right to be angry. But he wasn’t listening.
And she had just about had enough.
“You’re not listening,” she shot back. “That wasn’t my story. Yes, I agreed to the interview, but you knew about that, so don’t pretend you’re insulted that I left you in the dark. And before you get too self-righteous, you might want to know how surprised I was when he told me some influential people stood to make money off the deal if you built on my property.” She fixed him with her most level stare. “You didn’t bother to mention that part.”
Jack’s expression had gone blank again, but she had his attention. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“So it’s true?”
He glared back at her. “That’s why you accused me of being corrupt?”
“I didn’t accuse you of being corrupt,” she almost shouted. “Ron told me about the deal you made to get the bid, and he’s the one who made the accusations.”
“Then what did you say?”
She threw her hands up. “I told him I love my farm,” she answered, her voice rising. She raised her chin and glared across the desk at him. “And I do.”
“And what else?”
“That was it,” she said. “Although I could add a few adjectives right now that would make me feel better.”
“Like what?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a reluctant smile.
She scowled. “Stubborn. Unreasonable. Difficult. Hypocritical.”
The smile widened into a grin that turned her inside out. How did he do that? “Maren, there is no doubt in my mind you could bury me in adjectives without stopping to take a breath.”
“What’s so funny?”
“You just told me where to go.”
She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.”
She stared at him a moment longer. The sudden warmth in his eyes sent a shiver of sensation down her back. Her mind assaulted her with the memory of his mouth on hers, and her skin prickled with a different kind of goosebumps.
Holy Moses. Time to go.
She shook her head and stood. “So, um, I’ve set the record straight, right?” She gestured at the paper lying on the corner of his desk. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. This doesn’t change anything else, but I’ll do what I can to repair your reputation. Okay?”
Jack stood and moved around the desk to stand in front of her. “I doubt anyone is lighting a torch and getting ready to come after me.” He laughed, the sound a deep rumble in his chest that made it hard for her to breathe. “But I wouldn’t be so sure about you. Lance is pretty upset.”
“I know.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “He told me.”
Green eyes locked on hers and held her in place. “Then you also know he’s ready to throw you to the wolves at the next meeting.”
Like he wasn’t already. She hadn’t turned Lance against her. She’d just motivated him to push harder. “Did you make some kind of deal with him, Jack? Is that why he’s so determined?”
His lips pressed together, but his bad temper didn’t return. Instead, he blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I didn’t make a deal with anyone.” He hesitated. “But promises were made.”
So Ron did uncover something. She glared up at him. “And I’m the bad guy? What kind of promises?”
“The same stuff that happens at the capitol every day.” He took her arm in his hand and tugged. “Sit down.”
His scent drifted into her nose, and she bit down on a sigh. The warmth of his hand on her bare skin threatened her resolve, but she couldn’t bring herself to snatch her arm away. “That doesn’t make it right.”
Ah, crap. That breathless voice couldn’t belong to her, could it?
His fingers stroked her arm, and her knees threatened to buckle. “Constituents get what they want, Lance gets re-elected, everyone’s happy. Sit.” He pulled her forward.
“I’m not happy,” she murmured.
That sounded convincing.
He stilled. She gulped. He’d heard it, too—that tremble in her voice that said he’d gotten close enough to get under her skin. “What would it take to make you happy, Maren? Really?”
She stared up at him, panic twisting in her chest. The answer to that question had been simple ten years ago—Jack had been all it took to make her happy. But now? There had been a lot of years and a lot of bitterness between them. They had different lives in different places. They couldn’t even work together long enough to resolve a business deal.
She still wanted him, though. Oh, boy, did she ever. And the thought of him hating her over the Times article had almost been more than she could stand. If she didn’t get away from him soon, that would send her into heartbreak all over again.
Don’t you run out on him again.
She shook her head. He wouldn’t care if she left. In fact, he’d thank her.
“I want my life to go back to normal,” she said after a moment. “I’m tired of all the problems.�
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He nodded, then laid two fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “I bet you are.”
He pulled her closer and brushed her temple with his lips, then trailed a line of light, feathery kisses down her cheek. Maren let out a long, ragged breath, then inhaled sharply as his lips settled against the sensitive spot at the base of her throat.
“Jack?”
“Shhh.”
Her heart contracted, and then picked up its rhythm, thudding heavily in her chest. His lips moved upwards, along her jaw-line to the corner of her mouth.
Sweet Lord, he needs to stop that. His lips settled onto hers, and she closed her eyes and stopped thinking. She could let herself have this, right? Soon, she’d be gone, and he’d be a memory, just like before. She could begin the business of getting over him again. For now, though, why not let herself….
The gruff clearing of a throat washed over her like a bucket of ice cold water. Maren jerked backwards, but Jack’s hand tightened on her back. “What is it, Rose?” he asked without even turning to see if his guess was correct.
Maren’s face flooded with mortified heat. Rose. She’d never wanted so badly for the floor to open and swallow her whole.
“I can see you’re busy,” Rose said.
How could one word carry that much censure? The heat in Maren’s face intensified.
Jack’s eyes danced with mischief, but he still didn’t turn around. Thank goodness. If Jack hadn’t been there to block Rose’s view, Maren would have had to run from the room.
“Then why did you interrupt me?” he asked.
“Because there’s another problem in New York,” Rose said. “I’d love to fire that man. If you want tact and diplomacy, you’d better handle it.”
Jack’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yes, ma’am.”
The door closed a moment later, and Maren let out the breath she’d been holding. “How did you know it was her?”
“Because no one else would’ve barged in here like that.” He flashed that boyish grin. She gritted her teeth. “I thought you were going to pass out.”
So did I. She stepped back and straightened her purse on her shoulder. “I better go.”
“Maren…” he trailed off. “All of this has gone far enough, don’t you think?”
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