Allison Leigh - Tycoon's Temptation - The Truth About the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Lady / HerTexan Tycoon

No matter how beautifully she filled a pair of snug jeans.

Chapter Four

Stu Golightly didn’t just phone with the estimate for the repairs to Dane’s car. He brought it by himself that evening during dinner. When the man shook his head at Hadley’s invitation to stay and eat, Dane excused himself from the dining room table and followed Stu from the room.

The other man didn’t stop until he reached the front door, and then he looked as if he’d have preferred to shove Dane through it, than discuss the estimate.

Dane didn’t particularly begrudge Stu his attitude any more than he did Shane’s. He knew what it was like to feel protective. After all, he was in Montana in the first place because of that very trait. So he looked down the detailed list. “You can get a better deal on the parts. By ten percent, at least.”

Stu visibly bristled. “I don’t pad my charges.”

“I didn’t say otherwise. Call—” Damn, he very nearly said Wood Tolliver, and blamed his unusual distractedness on the pain in his head, rather than the brunette who’d been the cause of it. “Call RTM out of Indianapolis. I’ve done a lot of work with them.”

Stu’s gaze narrowed, obviously recognizing the name of the company. “They’re pretty high end.”

R & T Motor works was high end. It was also the business Dane and Wood started when they were in college and making names for themselves on the circuit. Wood may have been in charge of the day-today operations for years, now, but Dane still kept his hand in.

Some days he thought it was one of the few ways he stayed sane—focusing on something that wasn’t part of Rutherford Industries. “Ask for Stephanie,” he said. “I’ll let her know to expect your call. If she doesn’t beat your prices, don’t use RTM. Simple enough.”

The man looked as if he was trying to come up with an argument. In the end he nodded and settled his ball cap back on his head. “Tell Had that she needs to fill in for Riva on Monday morning.” He stepped out the door, hurriedly closing it against the cold evening air.

Dane slowly folded the estimate, tucked it in his pocket and returned to the dining room.

Mrs. Ardelle was chattering away again. The woman never seemed to run out of things to say. In a way she reminded him of Marlene. The new guest, Nikki Day, had arrived shortly before dinner. The auburn-haired newcomer was beautiful and well dressed and probably about Hadley’s age, he guessed. She was also pregnant, though not as far along as Joanie. Nikki sat beside her, and he gave the new guest credit for getting Joanie to lighten up enough to actually smile a little. Vince was nowhere to be seen.

Dane sat down again. He was sitting across from Hadley. Suited him. The view of her was as fine as her cooking. “Your brother said Riva needs you to work for her on Monday morning.”

She immediately nodded her head.

“Thought you said you’d be filling in at your dad’s church in the mornings for a while.”

“Right.” She passed a platter of roast beef to Joanie, murmuring that the girl needed to eat more protein. “I’ll just have to do a few hours at the garage, then a few hours at the church. Hopefully, it won’t inconvenience either one of them too much.”

Dane wondered if her father or brother had ever considered whether she’d be inconvenienced. Not that any of it was his business anyway. He deliberately focused on his meal, letting the various conversations roll over him.

“Wood Tolliver,” Mrs. Ardelle said. “The more I think about it, the more that name seems familiar to me, somehow.”

Dane smiled noncommittally. Unless she had some insight into the world of custom racing, she wouldn’t have been likely to have heard of Wood Tolliver. “Tolliver isn’t an unusual name.”

Joanie snorted a little at that. “Please. It’s not like people call you Bob Smith.”

Hadley laughed. Dane looked across at her, smiling despite himself. “I’m not the one with the unusual name,” he said. “Not compared to Ms. Golightly here.”

“And your mother’s name was really Holly?” Nikki Day asked, resting her elbows delicately on the edge of the table. “My, um, I had a friend whose parents stayed here at Tiff’s for their wedding night,” she explained. “Your mother had just recently opened for business. They were charmed by her.”

“Most people were,” Hadley agreed. Her gaze flicked to Dane, then she pushed back from the table. “Dessert coming up.”

Dane immediately rose to assist her. She looked ready to protest, but obviously had learned her lesson from earlier that day. In the kitchen she arranged the dessert plates on an enormous silver tray and settled pretty crystal cups of chocolate mousse on them.

Marlene couldn’t have done better herself, and he knew she’d studied way back when in France. “Your mom teach you to cook?”

Hadley nodded. “And I read cookbooks and stuff. A lot.” She grinned, a quick, mischievous little grin that snuck down inside him and plucked hard.

He picked up the heavy tray and jerked his head toward the dining room. “Don’t know when you have the time,” he said hoping his bluntness would dull the sharp desire he suddenly felt. “Considering how you’re always helping out someone else.”

She just lifted her shoulders and pushed open the swinging door to the dining room. “They’re my family,” she said simply.

Dane exhaled and followed her. He loved his sister fiercely. And he loved his mother, though he freely admitted that she was an acquired taste. He loved his stubborn-ass father, too, though Roth had only ever been proud of Dane for the work he’d done at Rutherford Industries.

But he could hardly fathom the simple acceptance that Hadley exhibited.

After dinner Mrs. Ardelle headed for the piano and everyone else headed for their rooms. Dane had plenty of calls stacking up on his voice mail to take care of, but when Hadley pulled on an ancient-looking flannel coat and gloves and said she was going out for a load of wood, he went after her.

“You need to learn the art of relaxing.” He yanked on his jacket as he caught up to her in the rear of the house.

She jerked, dropping the split logs she’d selected and pressed her gloved hand to her chest as she turned to see him. “Well, you know what they say. No rest for the wicked. Or something like that.”

He snorted softly and picked up the wood she’d dropped. “If there’s anything wicked about you, I’ll eat this wood.”

Her shoulders heaved a little and she leaned over, picking up more logs. “That’s kind of my problem, if the truth be known. Everyone in this town knows me.”

He was counting on it. “And the problem in that is what? Wait. Stack those logs on top of mine. You don’t need to carry in the wood yourself.”

It was too dark to see her expression, but he felt the amusement in her smile, nonetheless. “If I don’t, who will?”

He hefted the logs a little higher in his arms. “Hello?”

He could hear bewilderment in her soft laughter. “You’re much too nice to me, given the situation,” she said.

“Then go out with me.”

She bobbled the logs in her arms again, but saved them from falling. “I… excuse me?”

“You need to learn how to relax. I know how to relax. I will teach you how to relax. Over a drink. There’s gotta be a watering hole in this town somewhere.” He knew of one, quite specifically.

“Several, but—”

“It’s just a drink, Hadley. Your virtue is safe.”

She turned away, muttering something under her breath.

“What was that?”

Her shoulders lifted, then fell. She turned around to face him again. “I said that was a pity,” she blurted. “If I were less virtuous, then maybe Wendell wouldn’t be so anxious to fall in with my brothers’ plans for me. He’s called me four times just this afternoon. Four times! The man doesn’t know how to take no for an answer any more than Shane or Stu.”