He gave her a lopsided smile. “Hello, Madeline.” He lifted his beer bottle in a sort of half salute, then drank. “Seems like you and I had the same idea.”
There was something about Luke Kendrick that made her feel quivery. Madeline definitely understood that he was the kind of guy who, under much different circumstances, could make a woman like her do backflips. But the circumstances weren’t different, and Madeline dropped her head back and looked at the ceiling with a loud sigh. All she wanted to do was eat and then collapse into bed and nurse her head.
She slid her gaze to Luke again. He was calmly staring down at her, one brow cocked with amused curiosity above the other. Madeline wasn’t a fool. Luke was, in essence, an adversary. This was a real estate deal—he knew it, and she knew it. He was standing here because he wanted her and her sisters to sign that ranch back to him for a fraction of its value. But Madeline had not flown all the way to Colorado to just hand it back to this guy—okay, well, the jury was still out on why, exactly, she had flown out here—but nevertheless, the realtor in her would not allow it, not without a few questions, a few understandings, a few beneficial agreements.
Luke gestured with his head to the empty chair at her table, then shifted, leaning over her so a waiter with a full tray could pass. “Mind if I join you?”
“I knew you were going to ask that.”
“I will take that as a yes,” he said congenially. He plopped himself down in the chair, stretching one muscular leg out alongside the table, effectively trapping her between the wall and his motorcycle boot. “Are you having dinner?”
“I already ordered,” she said quickly, lest he have any ideas about dining together.
“Great. So did I.” He lifted his hand; a waitress appeared from thin air. Luke reached for his wallet. “Would you do me a favor? Would you transfer my ticket from the bar over here? I’m going to have dinner with my friend.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re exactly friends,” Madeline pointed out.
“Not yet,” he said confidently, and handed the waitress a five.
“Sure,” the waitress said, all gooey-eyed as she smiled at Luke. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I’ll do that,” Luke said, and he winked. Winked. As if he were some handsome lead in a romantic comedy movie. He watched the woman hurry off to do his bidding before looking at Madeline again.
“That,” Madeline said, gesturing between him and the waitress, “will not work on me.”
His smile turned into a grin. “Duly noted—a five-buck tip will not work on you.” His gaze wandered over her a moment, lingering a little too long on the vee of her shirt. “So what does work on you?”
A stronger fluttering began to tease the bottom of her belly. “What are you doing here, Luke?”
“Me? I’m from here.”
“You know what I mean. What are you doing in this restaurant? At my table? You keep showing up wherever I happen to be.”
“Someone could say the same about you, Maddie—”
“Madeline—”
“No,” he said, his gaze wandering over her face and hair. “You are definitely a Maddie parading around in Madeline’s clothes.”
Why would he say that? Madeline self-consciously glanced down at herself and then up.
Luke was grinning. “I can picture you in a frilly dress.”
That caught her off guard because Madeline actually had a frilly dress at home. It was chiffon and it was blue, and she loved it. But she had never worn it anywhere. There never seemed to be a moment that she could be that Madeline. The Madeline of frilly, flirty dresses.
“And by the way, from where I stand, you are the one showing up on my turf. On the road to Pine River, in my town, and at my family home. But you’re cute, so I’m not going to make a big deal out of it.”
Madeline blinked. She laughed. “Are you flirting with me?” she asked incredulously.
“Nope,” he said, but he was smiling.
Madeline laughed again. “You are.”
“It’s just an honest observation.” He winked, took a swig of his beer. “I wanted a drink after the ordeal of this afternoon, just like you.” He made a point of looking at the boat of wine at her elbow.
“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, and picked up her wine and sipped. It felt good. It felt warm. Or was that his smile and the fact that he’d just called her cute?
Luke leaned across the table, glanced around them and said low, “Between you and me—is Jackson Crane a little nuts?”
Madeline laughed. “Oh my God, thank you! He is completely nuts. Or very good at what he does.” She paused. “What does he do, anyway?”
“Hell if I can figure it out.”
“And then,” Madeline said, leaning in, too, “he shows up to a meeting like that with Diet Coke and potato chips. Seriously?”
Luke laughed. “He should have at least come with chocolate and bourbon. As it was, I thought Emma was going to start building her own distillery.”
Madeline laughed. It felt good to laugh after the day she’d had. “Do you know Emma?” she asked.