“Sure. Everyone is friendly. They all know who I am, which is a little scary, but I’m dealing.”
She grinned. “Any more encounters with the ladies?”
“No. You are excellent protection. Which is why I’m paying for the drinks.”
The bar at Ronan’s Folly was only about half-full. Tucker led them to a small booth in the back corner. They both ordered cognac and leaned back against the leather bench seats.
“Did everyone like Max?” he asked.
She nodded. “He’s Montana’s boss, so it’s not as if he was a stranger. He’s basically a good guy. From what I can figure out, he knew my mom when she was a teenager and it was a pretty hot romance. Then she met my dad and she knew he was the one. So Max left town.”
“He didn’t fight for the girl?”
“I guess he knew he was going to lose. Dakota’s talked to Mom about it. She said Max knew he wasn’t ready to settle down. And Mom wanted a husband and a family.”
“It’s been a long time since your dad died. I’m glad she’s found someone.”
“Me, too. As long as I don’t have to be a witness to the hot monkey sex.”
The cognac arrived. She took a sip and felt the liquid burn its way down her throat.
“Come upstairs with me.”
The words and the request both caught her off guard. She looked at Tucker, but couldn’t figure out what to say. Her hands started shaking, so she tucked them under the table.
“Tucker, I…”
She pressed her lips together, mostly to keep herself from blurting out an agreement. She knew what going upstairs meant. That they would touch and give and take and make love. That she would feel his hard body against hers, his hands pleasing her. She wanted to know what he would be like inside of her, this time, when she was ready and hungry.
His dark eyes were bright with passion. She was sure hers were the same.
“I want you,” he murmured, then lightly touched the side of her face.
His fingers were warm. She was already melting inside. Imagine what would happen if she gave in.
“I really like my job,” she whispered.
“This has nothing to do with that.”
She knew what he meant—that giving in or refusing wouldn’t affect her employment. Tucker wasn’t going to fire her for saying no. But making love with him would change everything.
He leaned in to kiss her. She met him more than halfway and anticipated a deep, sensual, passionate kiss. Instead he barely touched his mouth to hers. The light brush of sensitive skin against her own trembling mouth aroused her more than nearly anything else she could imagine. The restraint and the promise weakened her resolve.
Her br**sts ached for his touch. Between her thighs, she was already swollen. Just trying not to think about how it would feel to have him touch her made the image even more clear.
Give in, she thought. She wanted to.
“I can’t,” she whispered, against his mouth, then slid out of the booth. “I can’t.”
She stood beside the table, frustrated, near tears and yet determined. “This has to stay strictly business.”
“It’s already too late,” he told her.
Maybe, but for now she could pretend. She opened her mouth, then closed it, turned and fled the bar. She made it all the way home without once looking back, without admitting that she hoped he would follow her. He didn’t. When she reached her house, she went upstairs alone and faced a very cold, very empty bed.
TUCKER DIDN’T LIKE to lose. Not in business and not in his personal life. He’d spent a hellishly long night wanting what he couldn’t have. He was pissed off and didn’t care that all the reasons against it made sense, that Nevada had made the right decision.
What had started out being driven by having something to prove had turned into something else. Something more important. That didn’t ease the ache or the hunger. Sometimes, life was a bitch.
He stalked back to the trailer, thinking coffee would help his mood. When he arrived he faced not only an empty pot but a well-dressed, white-haired woman sitting in the chair beside his desk.
“Mr. Janack,” she said, coming to her feet. “I’m Mayor Marsha Tilson.”
“Mayor Tilson.” He held out his hand.
They shook. “Call me Mayor Marsha,” she said. “Nearly everyone does.”
“All right, Mayor Marsha. How can I help you?”
“I wanted to talk about the project out here. What you’re doing and how it’s going.”
Visiting local officials rarely brought good news, he thought. He crossed to the coffeepot and replaced the used filter and grounds. After flipping the switch to start, he faced the older woman.
“We’re still on schedule. Of course it’s been all of a month, so that could change by this afternoon. We’re current on all our permits. We’ll start excavating to put in the sewer and water pipes within a week or two.”