What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)

Craig leaned forward, the very picture of an eager puppy. “What can First National do for you?”


“You can orient me to what’s going on locally. I’m interested in undeveloped properties, initially for parking lots. My company has investments up and down the I-35 corridor, and from what I’ve seen, Bosque Bend’s good to go.”

Smiling like Foxy Loxy, Craig folded his hands on his desk. “No problem. You made the right choice coming here. Bosque Bend used to be your typical moribund Texas small town, but within the past ten years, it’s had a change in attitude and decided to let the rest of the world in. The population has doubled, and we have lots of new businesses—Walmart, Office Depot, Home Depot, Starbucks, G&G Chicken, you name it. A couple of small manufacturers have set up shop here too, and we’ve got a big hotel chain coming in. Sometimes we have problems with the Old Guard, but the mayor and city council are very proactive. They’ve even swung a couple of big government grants for beautification and flood control. Drive down by the river and you’ll see what I mean.” Craig gestured in invitation. “I’ve seen pictures of what the area used to look like, and you wouldn’t believe the change.”

“You mean the Shallows?” Jase nodded in agreement. “I can believe it. I grew up around here.”

Craig’s face lit up with interest. “You’re visiting relatives?”

“Staying with an old friend.”

Craig reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a beige postcard-sized pasteboard. “Well, if you’re going to be here for a few of days, let me give you this.” He signed the card with a grand flourish and handed it over to Jase. “It’s is a guest pass for two to the Bosque Club, good for an evening out on the bank. You’ll enjoy it—and might run into some people you used to know.”

Jase looked at him in surprise. “The Bosque Club? It’s still in existence?”

When he was growing up, the 1880s limestone block building on Crocket Avenue had acted as the second home for the high-and-mighty families of the town, with Reverend Ed frequently serving as president. Laurel probably knew every brick of the building by its first name.

“Alive and well. I hear it used to be sort of dull, but it’s picked up steam lately. Good place to do networking—Mayor Traylor’s a longtime member. Great guy, very forward-looking.”

Jase looked at the card, a plan formulating in his mind. “Thanks.” He smiled. “I’ll be sure and take advantage of this.” Rising from his chair, he held out his hand. “And, remember, if you get wind of any land you think I’d be interested in, give me a call.”

Craig walked Jase to the door of his office, shaking hands with him again. “I’m your guy.”

Jase headed for the car, his step buoyant. The prodigal son had come home, not with slop on his face, but with his head held high.

The bank visit had been his first official public appearance, and he’d half wondered if the armed guard would check him out on some sort of Bosque Bend shit list and throw him out on his ear. So far he hadn’t run into anyone who recognized him except Ray and Sarah, but he was bound to run into old acquaintances at some point. He looked a lot like Growler, he knew, which irritated him, but he’d learned to live with it.

He pulled away from the curb. Now to find a place to get a cartridge for that ink-jet printer he’d discovered under a dust cover in Laurel’s den. He thought he’d spotted an Office Depot down Fourth Street. Might as well buy a cheap fax machine for good measure. Laurel’s computer needed replacing too, but that could wait for now. She’d probably insist on paying for it herself, and he wasn’t about to rouse that sleeping dog again.

He turned right and picked up a parking space in front of the store. As he got out of his car, a huge pickup with an extended cab and four wheels on the rear came to a sudden stop on the street behind him. The driver lowered his window, and a deep voice rumbled at him.

“Jase, Jase Redlander!”

Jase grinned in recognition. Damned if it wasn’t Rafe McAllister.

Rafe had been a junior partner in the Dallas architectural firm that designed Jase’s house in North Plano. The two of them had hit it off right from the start, but he’d lost track of the genial redhead after the house was finished.

What the hell was he doing in Bosque Bend?

Rafe glanced behind him at the oncoming traffic. “If you got a couple of minutes, I’ll treat you to coffee at Starbucks. It’s a block down, on the corner.”

Jase widened his smile. “You go get parked and I’ll be waiting for you.”

*



The barista brought their coffee to the table, a service Jase had never before enjoyed at Starbucks. The woman, a pretty brunette about thirty, kept her gaze trained on Rafe as she set their coffee down and provided them with napkins.

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