She stopped walking to look at him. “What did you say?”
He moved to her, taking her shoulders in his hands and locking his gaze with hers. “I told him I like you, more than like you, and I’m thinking of staying longer than I’d planned.”
She cocked her head at him, wondering if what he was saying was true or if he’d only been trying to get a rise out of Max. “How did he react?”
“He doesn’t like me, it seems. He really wanted to punch out my lights, but he didn’t, so I think we’re fine.”
“Honestly,” Goldie said with irritation. “Why does he care who I see?”
He laughed. “You know the answer to that. It’s what you wanted. He can’t stand seeing you with anyone else. He still loves you.”
“Then why doesn’t he do something about it?” she demanded angrily.
He removed his hands from her shoulders as they began to walk again. “He doesn’t believe you’re moving on.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he wasn’t looking at her, as if he was hiding his expression. “If you’re trying to get me to sleep with you…”
He grinned as he glanced over at her. “Is it working? Seriously, I’ve been kicking myself for what could have happened up on that hill overlooking the hotel if I hadn’t decided to be chivalrous. That won’t happen again.”
His hungry expression sent shivers racing over her skin, leaving goose bumps. He was daring her to take it to the next level. Didn’t he realize that was what she’d been trying to do when she showed up at his hotel room earlier?
“You’re right, I am hungry,” she said. “Apparently you do know me.” She heard him chuckle as he opened the door to the hotel, and she stepped into the cool dim darkness of the lobby. His arm brushed hers as she passed. She felt her skin prickle and the heat of desire ripple through her. Max hadn’t just been her first—he’d been her only.
But she told herself that was about to change.
THE WORK INthe basement seemed too loud, too noticeable. Arnie was sure that was why the sheriff had come sniffing around. But he wasn’t about to complain to Malcolm. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to the man since he’d been notified that his former boss was sending him help. Four men had arrived in apickup and dump truck. Without a word, they’d begun to carry their tools down into the basement.
“What do you want done upstairs?” one of the men had asked when he’d come back up alone.
Arnie told him how he wanted the upper floor remodeled. The man nodded and went to work tearing out the booths. He found himself holding his breath more than usual. All of this felt too risky, but he had to assume that Malcolm knew what he was doing.
On the bright side, he could end up owning this café free and clear. He could live out his dream in Dry Gulch. The town wouldn’t have been his first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers, as his mother used to say.
Now, as he stood in the middle of his café and saw the improvements begin to take shape, he felt a rush of pride. He was going to make his deadline and open Tuesday. He wished his mother could see that he’d finally made good. Did it really matter the cost? He wondered for a moment what the townspeople would say about the changes and realized he didn’t care. This was his café. Or would be.
He checked his phone with the schedule Malcolm had given him right up to his grand opening.
“Follow it exactly, as if your life depends on it,” the crime boss had said.
“I get it.” Arnie hadn’t meant to snap but he couldn’t help it. All his life he’d been treated as if he wasn’t all that bright. There was nothing slow about his mind. “I’ll follow it exactly.”
Which meant it was time to announce the grand opening date.
MALCOLM OFTEN WONDEREDhow his children thought they could keep anything from him. He knew them too well. He hadn’t gotten where he was in life by not paying attention.
For some time, his daughter had been keeping what she thought were secrets. He suspected her younger brother, Bobby, knew exactly what was going on because he’d been avoiding him.
“Bobby,” he said as his son came down the stairs and made a beeline for the front door. “Have a minute?”
“No, I—”
“Take a minute anyway,” Malcolm said, calling him into his office. He pointed to a chair across from his desk. Bobby entered slowly, reluctantly before sitting down gingerly on the edge of the chair, one knee bouncing nervously. “Tell me about Lolly.” He saw his son’s eyes widen in alarm. Before Bobby could speak, he added, “Don’t bother to lie. I know. I just want to ask how you found out and why you haven’t come to me with the information.”
His son stammered for a moment before blurting it all out. Malcolm had learned a long time ago how to remain expressionless even when surprised, let alone shocked. His daughter was pregnant? “If it’s not Donovan Cole’s, then whose is it?”
Bobby wagged his head. “I don’t know. I swear.”
He thought of the boyfriends before Donovan, did the math and frowned before sending Bobby on his way. This was the first time that Lolly had bothered to keep one of her boyfriends a secret. That told him that, one, this relationship was serious, and he wasn’t going to like it—and possibly two, he knew the man and really wasn’t going to like it.
