Debbi Rawlins - The Swinging R Ranch

“I see,” she said nodding. “You’re teasing me. I guess I deserve it for being so pushy. But I really am interested in your plans for the place.”

“I wasn’t teasing.”

Her smile vanished and she glared, lips tight with disapproval. When she suddenly lowered her gaze to his body, he shifted uncomfortably wondering what she found so interesting down there. And then he realized she was studying his watch. Next, her attention fastened on his shoes.

She looked up. “You obviously don’t need the money. Why bother with this place?”

He snorted. “You know that much about me in just twenty minutes?”

“A gold Rolex and five-hundred-dollar Gucci shoes pretty much disqualifies you from welfare.”

The watch was pretty distinctive but he was surprised she recognized his designer shoes. Snobby of him maybe, but Bingo wasn’t exactly the shopping Mecca of the west. No upscale neighborhoods or large luxury cars. These were obviously plain people with simple tastes.

He chuckled to himself at the irony of his thoughts. After twenty minutes, here he figured he knew all about her. He had a feeling that if he stuck around long enough, he’d find that there was a lot about Abby Cunningham he would never have guessed. But it wasn’t going to happen. He was out of here by tomorrow.

“Stalling isn’t going to discourage me,” she said, when he’d apparently been quiet too long. She folded her arms over her chest. “And for your information, my question is purely personal, and not political.”

“Right.”

Uncrossing her arms, she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen. Herbert and Mona were long gone. Abby took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. “I’m sure you can see that this place is no longer operational. The, uh, ladies are in retirement, so to speak, but they still need a place—”

A loud squawk cut her off and made them both jump. Mona came marching toward them, her face reddened with anger, a raised frying pan in her right hand. “Retirement, my fanny. It’ll be a cold day in August before you put this old mare out to pasture. Now, Abigail, I suggest you get before I really lose my temper.”

The frying pan was one of those old cast-iron ones that had to weigh a ton, and it did, judging by the way it kept inching down, causing Mona to pitch forward slightly, teetering. Max was about to relieve her of it before someone really did get hurt, when Herbert surprised her from behind and lifted the pan out of her hand.

“For cryin’ out loud, Mona, have you stopped taking your pills again?” Herbert set the pan on top of a tall bookcase out of her reach.

“Dammit, Herbie, whose side are you on?” Mona smacked him on the upper arm. “How’s a body supposed to make a living?”

With a weary sigh, Herbert slid Max a helpless look. “Come on, Mona, you haven’t done that for almost twenty years.”

“Viagra, honey, Viagra is changing everything. We’ll be open again. You’ll see.” She looked at Max. “You’re a businessman. Tell him.”

Everyone turned to Max, Herbert with an expression of dread, Abby with amusement glittering in her eyes. Max cleared his throat. “I hadn’t really thought much about that.”

“What’s there to think about?” Mona put her hands on her hips. “You get a supply of the stuff and we’ll pass them out. There won’t be enough hours in the day once all those old goats from Bingo start lining up.”

Max took a deep breath. He was a worldly, laid-back guy. He could handle this conversation, even if Mona did look like she could be his grandmother.

He made the mistake of looking at Abby for help. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Yeah, Max,” she said, her forehead wrinkling in a thoughtful frown. “You could order Viagra by the bushel, pass it out like candy and put all these ladies back to work. After all, it is legal in this county.”

Max gave her his best smile. If she thought he would cower, she was wrong. He was a Bennett. Made of strong New England stock. He could handle anything.

“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home? I have a surprise.”

Everyone turned toward the high-pitched voice coming from the kitchen.

“In here, Candy,” Mona called out.

Two women appeared at the door. Both seventyish. Both grinning. One holding her hand behind her back.

“I have a surprise,” the shorter one drawled, glanced behind and tugged on a leash.

The world’s ugliest lizard lumbered forward and stuck out its very long tongue.

“Her name’s Tami,” Candy said. “Isn’t she adorable?”

Max told himself he wasn’t going to faint. But he put a steadying hand on the couch just in case.

“WHAT IS THAT?” Max asked, relieved his voice hadn’t cracked.

“An iguana,” the short blonde said, her artfully made-up face scowling at Max’s abruptness. “Who wants to know?”

“Okay, Candy, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist.” Mona stepped between him and the other woman. Not that Max had any intention of getting closer. Especially not as long as the overgrown lizard’s tongue kept swiping the air. “This here is Maxwell Bennett, Lily’s nephew.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Candy looked him up and down. “You came all the way out here yourself, did you? Figured you’d send some fancy lawyer to take care of things all neat and tidy.”

God, Max wished he had. “Nice to meet you, Candy. Now about this thing…” He gestured to the iguana, then took a hasty step back when it moved. “Tell me it isn’t some sort of pet.”

Candy narrowed her gaze. “She’s a she, not an it, and I already explained her name is Tami.”

Mona sighed loudly. “You haven’t met Estelle yet, Max.” She inclined her head toward the other woman with short silver hair, much more conservative in her blue shirtwaist dress next to Candy’s tight jeans. “Estelle?”

She was smiling at Herbert and paying them no attention.

Mona looked from Herbert to the silver-haired woman, and she planted both hands on her hips and started tapping one foot. “Estelle?” Her tone was sharper this time.

“Hmm?” Estelle turned an absent gaze toward them.

“I am trying to introduce you to Mr. Bennett.” Mona’s hands remained on her hips, and with her fiery blue eyes she issued Herbert a brief warning before forcing a smile for Max.

He checked out the position of the iguana before stepping forward to offer his hand, and caught Abby’s smirk out of the corner of his eye. She’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten about her. She was obviously aware of his discomfort and enjoying it far too much.

Trying to ignore her, he smiled at Estelle. “Pleased to meet you. How long have you been, uh…” to his annoyance, he stumbled for a suitable word “…working here?”

A shriek coming from Abby startled them all, drawing their attention. Even Mona stopped scowling at Estelle and frowned at Abby. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”

But Abby’s anger was clearly reserved for Max alone. She marched up to him, stopping only inches away, then tilted her head back and glared. “That is my grandmother you are speaking to,” she said through gritted teeth. “She does not work here.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Abigail.” Mona huffed. “You saying she’s too good to work here?”

Abby blinked, but she kept her attention on Max. “I’m just saying she doesn’t. And she has no business staying here.”

The tension in the room raised the temperature by ten degrees. And Max had no intention of fanning the flames. He looked away from Abby and stared at the iguana. It stared back. “I’ll tell you who has no business here. It’s that disgusting tongue-wielding reptile.”