by Dani Wade
“He never remarried.”
Short and sweet. No apologies. Presley was beginning to enjoy this.
The shocked look on Marjorie’s face melted into confusion, but she quickly recovered. Presley suppressed a sigh as her stepmother prattled on about her own marriage and how she couldn’t understand why Presley had never taken to her. There ya go. Tell all our dirty little secrets.
“Did you need something, Marjorie?” Presley finally cut in.
“Oh.” Marjorie blinked, obviously reorienting herself to her mission. “I saw you arrive, Kane, and wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings from last night.”
No I’m sorry for stealing your money. But why would Marjorie think she needed to apologize for that?
“I’m over the moon to have my Presley taking care of things and wouldn’t want you to think otherwise,” Marjorie said. “She keeps this place running...”
Presley raised a single brow, surprised Marjorie tore herself away from her society lunches long enough to notice, much less be grateful.
“If I could just get her to listen to me more—”
Please, stop talking.
But no, Marjorie just had to keep going. “She has so much potential, you know.”
“And she’s living up to it every day,” Kane replied.
Marjorie and Presley both focused in on Kane. Presley couldn’t tell which of them was more shocked. No one had ever defended her against Marjorie’s inane yet often hurtful prattle in this house. Her father had let it go on and never gave a clue to his own thoughts. At times, he had even reiterated Marjorie’s message in his own way.
Oh, he’d loved Presley. She had no doubt. But he’d thought she’d be better off as a prissy princess, not a tomboy, even though she could run this business better than any man here. She’d never understood that.
Kane broke into her thoughts. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a lunch date.”
What? she almost asked, but Kane’s steady gaze kept her mouth shut. Presley gave a short nod. Anything to get her away from Marjorie and this uncomfortable conversation.
“Surely not dressed like that?” Marjorie asked, eyeing Presley’s dusty jeans and T-shirt.
Presley glanced over to find Kane doing the same, with a far different look in his eyes than she expected. “Why not?” he asked, his voice just a touch husky. “Love the jeans, hon.”
That wink would have made any woman swoon. Presley recognized it as a weapon against her normally strong defenses. How long could she hold out against all this Harrington appeal?
Five
Presley soon realized that Kane wasn’t kidding. He nodded when she said she wanted to wash up, but he encouraged her not to change—the restaurant wouldn’t care.
What kind of restaurant was that? Surely the world’s newest billionaire wasn’t taking her out for fast food? She did at least upgrade from a dusty shirt to a clean one with a Wonder Woman logo. Both out of defiance and a deep-down desire for Kane to see the real her. The girl who couldn’t care less about society chatter but enjoyed action movies and riding and comic books.
Eventually it would bore him and he’d leave her alone, especially if he had to take the real her out in public, right?
The quicker disillusionment set in, the quicker she’d be free of this dang bargain.
When she rejoined him at the front of the house, he glanced down at the front of her shirt and grinned but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure exactly what his reaction meant. He led her to a dark burgundy luxury SUV and let her in the passenger side like a true gentleman. As she waited for him to join her, she took a deep breath. The inside of the vehicle smelled of new leather seats and the cologne Kane had been wearing the night before. As he opened the door, she breathed again.
Boy, did he smell good. She probably still smelled like the barn. Now she wondered if she should have changed into a dress, but then she would have been completely uncomfortable and self-conscious. As if she wasn’t self-conscious now—
“Let’s just relax and get to know each other, okay?” Kane asked, interrupting the momentum of her thoughts.
Her nod was a little jagged. In the barn, she’d been fine. Not totally in control, but confident in her surroundings. Now she didn’t have that, and the need to second-guess everything meant she’d be on edge the entire time.
Just let it go.
“You should feel lucky,” she blurted out as he turned around in the wide drive.
“How’s that?” he asked, flashing her a grin that took at least half a dozen years off his features. Kane was often solemn-looking. Why was that?
“Marjorie hasn’t been in the barn in a long time. Years, I think. But she made a special trip just to see you.”
To her amusement, his brows shot up. “I don’t know if I’d call either of us lucky for that.”
Laughing with him felt good. She hadn’t done that with many people since her father died. He’d been one of the few who actually got her off-the-wall sense of humor. She missed that feeling of communal amusement.
Kane directed the conversation back to horses as they drove through the heart of town and out the other side. The west end of town was just as rural as the east, but the farms were smaller. Usually the families over here raised cattle or did specialty farming on a more modest scale than the elite horse farms on the east. There was also a small community college out this way that Presley had only visited a time or two for concerts.
Kane drove with confident ease. His hands on the wheel were things of masculine beauty. She could watch his sure grip and the slide of his palm against the leather all day. To her surprise, he shared some of what he and his brother were planning to do with their own farm.
When he suddenly pulled into a lot and parked, Presley glanced around, having been distracted by their debate over different animal supplement techniques. The gravel lot was a tiny triangle at the intersection of two roads. There were only a few vehicles besides theirs. Several people had congregated on the tiny outdoor porch of the restaurant at the widest point of the lot.
“Um, I haven’t been here before,” she said, studying the place with a bit of skepticism.
In Kentucky, it wasn’t a stretch to say some of the best food came from some of the most run-down-looking joints. Her daddy had often picked up food for her from restaurants like this when they traveled. One of his protective measures had been to bring it back to the hotel. He never let her go to a part of town he didn’t feel was safe for her. But this place was in her own backyard, and she’d never heard of it.
Guess her high-class snobbery was showing.
“We’d better get in line,” Kane advised. “We’ve got about ten minutes before this place is packed.”
Um, okay.
The main wing of the two-story building was small, with a weathered, pointed roof. A square addition had been fitted against the back to form a stubby L shape. While relatively clean, the place showed a lot of wear. “What kind of food is it?” she asked as they crossed the lot.
Eyeing the casual attire of those already lined up, she realized Kane had been right. No need to worry about her barn clothes here.
“They have some different things, but the main fare is southern-style barbecue,” Kane said with obvious enthusiasm. “I’ve been eating here since I was about ten years old.”
Well, if this restaurant had been around that long, they must be serving something good. And the cuisine explained some of the grubbiness—the barbecue smoke had been building up for a long time.
Kane grew quiet while they waited, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He pointed out a menu on the wall so she could get a preview. Then he held his tongue until the door opened and they followed the small crowd to the hostessing stand, if one could call it that. The timber walls were covered with han
dwritten messages left by numerous patrons. Quarters were close, and the line behind them promised to make things even cozier.
But they shouldn’t have trouble getting a table, if the hostess’s big grin and hug for Kane were any indication. He and the older woman chatted a few minutes, getting caught up. “The usual spot?” she asked, her gaze flicking curiously to Presley and back.
Kane nodded, and the hostess handed menus and wrapped silverware off to a younger waitress without a word. Kane gestured for Presley to follow the woman, his firm hand at the base of her spine leaving her all too aware of him as she contemplated the very tight spiral staircase they had to climb.
“Hope I don’t meet anyone on their way down,” she joked.
There truly was only space for one-way traffic. “That’s how you get to know your neighbors,” Kane deadpanned.
Yeah, this man would surely get her sense of humor.
The stairs opened onto a narrow aisle on the second floor lined with rustic booths. The slanted roof lent an interesting angle to the ceiling, and one side of the floor looked out over the room and bar below. The waitress seated them in the far corner in front of a triangular window that fit into the angles of the room.
As she took her seat across from him, Presley caught Kane watching her. He didn’t speak, but somehow she knew he was wondering what she thought. Country music cranked up from the jukebox downstairs. Presley grinned. “This is interesting.” Like some of the honky-tonks she’d heard the stable hands talk about but had never gone to herself.
Kane nodded. “I love things with character. This place has it in spades. Just wait until you taste the food.”
He didn’t try to direct her in what she should eat. Instead he waited while she read every inch of the menu.
“Anything especially good?” she asked.
Kane shrugged. “Over the years I’ve had just about everything. But the ribs are my favorite. Oh, and the mac and cheese.” He nodded slowly as if he were a wise sage imparting an eternal truth.
Presley smothered a grin and went back to her menu. Kane didn’t even crack his.
“This is where we had all of our fancy dinners growing up,” Kane said almost absently. “My dad loved it here.”
Presley couldn’t help but compare the worn decor and friendly atmosphere with the stuffy yet impressive restaurants where she’d been forced to celebrate her birthdays over the years. “Things must feel a lot different now.” After all, Kane could probably buy this place fifty times over if he wanted.
He focused in on her for a moment, the intensity of his look causing her to catch her breath. “Some things haven’t changed at all.”
Before she could even question his statement in her own mind, their waitress returned to take their order. Anxious to revisit her own barbecue memories with her father, she chose the one food Marjorie would have thoroughly admonished her for eating in public: ribs. Though she ordered hers with a milder sauce than what Kane was having.
Her simple decision made Presley want to smile. She was a grown woman and didn’t need anyone’s permission for the choices she made. Being with Kane made her want to explore a different side of herself. Maybe it was his open acknowledgment of Marjorie’s lack of parenting skills. Maybe it was the teasing or casual use of sexual innuendos. Something about Kane made her want to take pleasure in life instead of being all business for a change.
“I figured you’d want more definitive details about our agreement since you’re a businesswoman,” Kane said.
Heat swept over her skin. Apparently she was the only one ready to leave business behind. How embarrassing. After all, a man like Kane would certainly not be interested in a real date with a woman like her.
“Right. Yes, I would,” she managed.
She’d gotten lost in the personal conversation and forgotten that she was only here for business. Kane just preferred to conduct his business over barbecue rather than at Pierre’s downtown.
Presley tried to push the discouraging thoughts away and focus on what Kane was telling her.
“It occurred to me, after I was able to give this arrangement more thought last night,” he said, his face once more solemn, without a hint of his earlier wink, “there might be another way to work off your family’s debt.”
For a moment, Presley was paralyzed all the way to her core. She wasn’t sure if she was worried he was about to disrespect her or if she was worried he was about to give her a way out. Which was wrong, but somehow she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering if he’d spent all night trying to find a way out of spending so much time with her.
“You mean my stepmother’s debt?” she said, wincing at the slight croak in her voice.
No matter how he’d grown up, Kane couldn’t have looked more regal than when he gave her a single, solemn nod. “There might be another way to preserve her reputation—and mine.”
Presley narrowed her gaze on him. This little meeting had taken on a completely different tone with just a few words. “I’m listening.”
“You can keep the money I paid you for stud service.”
Her eyes widened as her dirty little mind went in a totally different direction than it should have. “Excuse me?”
“For Sun.”
Of course. He wouldn’t have meant anything else. And if it had been anyone else speaking, that was the first thing she’d have thought. But this was Kane Harrington. And somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, Presley had gone from viewing this as a business arrangement to wishing for something Kane probably wouldn’t enjoy as much—kiss or no kiss.
Before she could do something stupid, like voice her disappointment, their waitress set two steaming platters on the table between them. Presley looked down at the juicy half rack of ribs and wondered what the hell she’d been thinking. Surely she’d make a complete mess out of this. The way she had of her personal perceptions about what was happening here.
Just as her worries escalated, her hands trembling with that unmistakable performance anxiety she often suffered in social situations, Presley took a deep breath and forced herself to stop and focus on the business at hand.
Business. It was only business, and that she knew how to handle. That’s all it ever could be, right?
Presley forgot about the food between them. “How much?”
Kane’s impassive expression wasn’t giving much away. “I’ve got the paperwork in the SUV. You can invoice out every use of Sun for stud, and we will subtract the normal fee from your balance. If at any time this arrangement no longer suits you, just pay the balance in full and we’re done.”
“And you again have free rein to ruin my reputation?” she asked, not buying this simple fix. At all.
“As you’ll learn, I always do what is required. But in this case, I don’t think that will be necessary. Do you?”
* * *
Kane relaxed into the worn leather-upholstered booth, watching Presley carefully pick her way through the ribs on her plate. She tried so hard to be neat, to not make a mess. He expected her to break out a fork at any minute.
He’d figured the business discussion would put a damper on what was happening between them, but the matter had needed to be addressed. Kane had always been a fan of getting the necessary ugly stuff out of the way first.
Presley had gone from the comfortable and confident woman who had climbed into his SUV with a mild sense of rebellion, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, to self-conscious and stiff the minute he’d brought up their arrangement. He’d been able to see the transformation in her expression, the way she held herself.
The dichotomy fascinated him, kept him on the edge of his seat in a way few things had lately.
“We can start small on the social scale. Practice, if you will.” He flashed a small grin even though she’d gone stock-still. “A small part
y shooting pool in the basement at my house tonight. You didn’t get to see the entertainment area downstairs, did you?”
Presley was still holding two rib bones in her fingertips. Was she ever going to just eat? Despite her surprise, she wasn’t just accepting his request.
“What if I have plans for tonight?” she asked.
Like she could fool him. “Do you?”
She frowned. Had she really thought he wouldn’t challenge that?
“No, but—”
“Good. You can be there about eight. It’ll just be a few people.”
She didn’t move. Didn’t agree. And it didn’t matter—he wasn’t giving her the chance to back out.
“And by the way, if there should be any side effects to our spending time together—”
“Side effects?” That squeak reminded him of their first encounter, which had only been last night. They’d packed that short time full of interesting things, hadn’t they?
Kane didn’t repeat himself. Instead he gave her a direct look, letting her see his intent front and center.
Kane loved to challenge her, just to watch her think. Her expression only hinted at what was happening inside, but he could tell she was trying to figure out how to handle him.
“Anything that happens will be by mutual consent.”
Now she had his word.
“Aren’t you gonna dig in?” he asked.
Presley blinked. Then he nodded at her plate, and she glanced down at her fingers. She was still gripping the bones as if it was the only sure move she knew.
“Like this,” he said, then tore several ribs off his rack and lifted them to his mouth, biting into them unceremoniously with a mock growl.
Presley didn’t quite giggle, but it was close. Kane considered his playfulness worth it. He was on a mission to see Presley smile and laugh. It was an honorable mission. A counterbalance to his demands. But also a slippery slope to becoming too invested.
