When it did, Lacey opened her eyes. His face was still very close to hers.
“Tomorrow. Noon. Then no more work,” he said in a deep voice.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember,” she said sassily, making him smile.
He let go of her, dipping his chin to kiss the top of her head, and then moved out of the doorway.
“Leave the rest of this mess out here, I’ll sweep and hose it off tomorrow,” he ordered, as he walked around the remnants of glass and crackers.
Lacey had forgotten all about that. She nodded and shut the door, letting her eyes drift closed again so she could go on savoring the lingering sensation, the lingering memory of that kiss for another moment.
Before she reminded herself that things like that shouldn’t be going on between them.
And then went to bed longing for more anyway…
Chapter Eight
“Hey, I just swung by the training center site hoping to catch you, and you weren’t there.”
“No, I’m not there,” Lacey confirmed, feeling a sudden rush of panic. It was 10:00 a.m. on Saturday morning when her cell phone rang and she answered the call from her brother Ian. “Did Dad send you out to check on me?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
“I’m doing paperwork at home,” she added. “It was a bad week—Dad knows that—and it wasn’t cost-effective to have the crew come in this weekend when they couldn’t accomplish anything substantial, so I’m catching up on—”
“Paperwork,” her brother finished for her. “Honest, Lace, I’m not spying for Dad.”
She had to work twice as hard, be twice as diligent and worry twice as much that anyone would think she was slacking off—it came with the territory of proving to her father that she could do the work of a man, and Lacey was accustomed to it. But maybe she didn’t have to be so worried when it came to her brother.
On the other hand, the training center project had been Ian’s, and he might be hoping she would fail so he could take over again…
Lacey hated herself for that thought. Ian had never done anything to her that was backstabbing or cutthroat, and he didn’t deserve that.
“I haven’t seen or heard from you since the wedding, so I just wanted to check in,” Ian explained. “Jenna and Abby and I are leaving town this afternoon—Jenna has a friend in Billings we’re seeing this weekend—and I just thought I’d let you know, and make sure you didn’t need anything before I go.”
“You’ll be gone this whole weekend?” Lacey asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. But it wasn’t easy. With Ian gone, Hutch still on his honeymoon, and no chance that her father would show up, the sudden feeling of freedom was heady.
“The whole weekend, yeah,” Ian confirmed. “We won’t be back until Monday.”
Lacey couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, but no, I don’t need anything,” she said, trying to keep from giving away her feelings.
“So how is everything going with you?” her brother asked. “Are you doing all right living at the Camden place?”
“It’s just somewhere to drop when I finally leave work at night.”
“Sure,” Ian said as if he would expect nothing less. “Did you know that Seth Camden told Dad that he wasn’t a fan of football?”
Lacey wondered if Ian had suspicions that something was going on between her and Seth and was giving her fair warning. “Yes. I heard them at the wedding.”
“Is it true?”
“I guess,” Lacey answered.
“Even if he is a Camden, you know what that means to Dad—”
“If you’re not a football fan, you’re nothing.” Her father had said it more times than she could count.
“I like Seth, though,” Ian offered as if in consolation, making her think he definitely had suspicions about what was going on between them. “I’ve talked to him a dozen or so times since I’ve been here—at one function or another, or just meeting him on the street—and he seems like a good guy.”
“He is,” Lacey confirmed.
“Are you seeing much of him?”
She hoped this was about her brother’s own curiosity and that he wasn’t on a fishing expedition their father had sent him on.
“Our paths rarely cross,” she said. Then, not wanting to talk about Seth, she changed the subject. “When are Hutch and Issa and Ash due back from their honeymoon?”
“Monday, I think. I hear your clothes are doing big things in his stores—are you trying to keep up with that on top of the training center?”
“I am,” she said.
“Wow, you’ve got your hands full.”
“I do. Plus I had three people working my supply and distribution center, and my shippers quit. The two people left are going crazy, and I’ve had to let them try to find a replacement because I just can’t get to Billings to do it myself.”
“I should probably let you get back to work then.”
Lacey didn’t argue. “Have a good trip.”
“We will. I’ll see you when we get back.”
“Okay.” They said goodbye and hung up.
Almost instantly her thoughts turned to Ian’s comment about Seth not being a football fan.
Had her brother been making a point of it?
Seth had admitted that he could take football or leave it. Trying to fit that into the super-jock-live-and-breathe-football-club that was the Kincaids? Not likely.
It was just something that she kept telling herself she had to keep in mind when it came to resisting any attraction to Seth.
Intelligent, strong, interesting, funny, staggeringly handsome and sexy as he could possibly be—that all might be true of the man, but none of it could carry more weight than the things that she knew dictated that they stay apart.
Camden or not, he was all easygoing country boy and she was anything but a nature-loving girl, even if she had been born and raised in Montana.
And while Seth might be great to relax with, to wind down with, that laid-back thing he did so well was not Lacey. A slower pace would likely drive her crazy in the long run because she liked to be going and doing and working and as busy as she could keep herself.
Put it all together and it added up to her and Seth being two people who couldn’t be more wrong for each other.
And you’d better remember that! she told herself.
She’d better remember it all through today and tomorrow when she was with him, and not give in too much to that attraction.
Doing the Founder’s Day festival with him was just a way to fill some time she had on her hands. She wouldn’t let it become any more than that.
She wouldn’t.
But could she pull that off?
That tiny whisper of doubt floated around the back of her mind.
No, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could.
In fact, she wasn’t even one percent sure.
* * *
Saturday afternoon brought the Founder’s Day parade. Many Northbridge natives dressed in historic costume, representing their ancestors by walking the parade route or, in some cases, riding in old buggies, horse-drawn wagons or carriages.
There were marching bands and placards with pictures of the town in its earliest incarnations, along with pictures of the original founders and other people thought to have brought expansion and progress to Northbridge. It was on one of those that an old photograph of H. J. Camden was displayed. As it went by, there were several boos called from various spots in the crowd.
Uncomfortable with that, Lacey glanced up at Seth, who was standing by her side. He showed no indications of having heard the jeers and merely went on watching the parade.
When it ended they walked through the maze of booths in the Town Square to the gazebo. There they wat
ched Miss Northbridge be crowned, sat through the dance performance of a troop of local eight-year-old girls and several songs sung by the local church choir and then the barbershop quartet. Then they listened to the speeches given by the mayor and two of the city councilmen.
Dinner was a potluck held under an enormous white tent, and Seth and Lacey ended up eating with a group of Seth’s friends.
After that they strolled in the direction of the college campus, touring the display where the placards with the pictures of early Northbridge, its founders and its most important citizens had been put up.
Someone had hung a black shroudlike scarf over the portrait of Seth’s great-grandfather.
Lacey took a sideways glance at Seth, who calmly strode up to the picture, removed the scarf to put in a nearby trash receptacle and stepped back to Lacey’s side.
Before she’d thought of what to say about that, Seth said, “There’s always two camps—the ones who think old H.J. brought progress and good, and the ones who say he made his way on the backs of other people.”
“Even around here? In his hometown?” Lacey asked cautiously.
“Oh, sure. This is where H.J. started out. He was a scrappy guy, determined to make something of himself. The property you’re turning into your training facility was originally a farm and a lumber mill operated in the barn—H.J.’s folks owned it.”
“H.J.’s roots.”
“Right. From the minute H.J. was old enough to work, he did, saving every penny until he could start buying up timberland outside of Northbridge. The timberland contained a gold mine that was thought to be played out—”
“That’s right. I remember something from my class about him actually striking gold.”
“Not a whole lot of it, but yeah, he managed to find a vein that gave him the money to make his next and most important purchase—a chunk of land that was rich in iron deposits. Of course it’s been said that he knew that was the case before he bought the land for next to nothing and duped the previous owners who didn’t know about the iron deposits. It’s also been said that by reopening the gold mine and mining the iron, he put people to work and kept Northbridge going when farming wasn’t paying—like I told you, two camps.”
“Then he left Northbridge?”
“In his twenties, after he had enough of a bankroll. But he kept what he owned here, and when he wanted to use Northbridge as a retreat he came back, bought even more land. But he was always looking for the best deal, so he bought from people who were struggling and about to lose their farms, so there are those who say he capitalized on the misfortunes of others to build what we own now.”
“If people needed to sell their property and he bought it, that’s just business,” Lacey said.
Seth smiled tentatively. “Sure. But then there are also the contentions that he manipulated things in his favor, that he had powerful people in his pocket, so water rights were redistributed, or property lines redrawn to his advantage.”
“Is that true?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. My great-grandfather, my grandfather, my father and my uncle—they all kept the business far, far away from us when we were kids. I do know that my father and my uncle started the policy of giving back—of getting involved in charities and organizations that benefited other people. The negative side says that was just to clean up the Camden name and reputation, to put a better face on wrongdoings. I can tell you that from my standpoint—and my brothers’ and sister’s and cousins’ standpoint—we’re all vigilant about anything to do with Camden Incorporated being on the up-and-up now.”
“I know that there can be sour grapes when it comes to success,” Lacey said. “We run into it. Even during my dad’s football career, there were players he beat out for starter position who claimed he didn’t deserve it, that he played dirty or that he made it for some other reason. And of course in business it’s been said that he’s only gotten where he is on his name. To some extent, resentment is unavoidable and you just have to live with it.”
“And hope it’s unfounded,” Seth said so quietly she wasn’t sure she was meant to hear it. She thought better of responding.
Then, in a normal octave, he added, “But H.J. was always good to me and I loved the old coot, so here’s to you, H.J.” He tapped his temple with two fingers and gave the photograph a casual salute.
Then he turned to Lacey and said, “Now how about you and I go dancing?”
“So you do dance?” she said.
“Yep,” he answered with a smile. “I can’t promise that I’m the best you’ll ever come across, but I know how. And it’s Saturday night and I can hear the music starting up, and here we are—seems like we should… Unless you don’t like to dance…you weren’t in favor of it at your brother’s wedding.”
“That was different. I love to dance, I just rarely get to. But I’m not dressed for it,” she said. For dancing she would have worn something less confining than her butt-hugging jeans and more supportive than the white chiffon tank top with its cascading frilly front and built-in bra. And she wouldn’t have worn sandals.
“It’s the Founder’s Day dance in the Square. We don’t need to be dressed up.” Seth glanced down at his own Western shirt with the long sleeves rolled to his elbows, the jeans that he looked too good to be true in and his cowboy boots. “I could probably do some damage to your bare toes, but I promise to be extra careful not to step on them, if you’re game.”
She was. Carried away by that sense of freedom, Lacey didn’t hesitate a moment more. “Okay,” she said.
He reached down and took her hand. Then he put it in the crook of his arm and kept his own hand over hers, tucking her securely into his side, where she instantly got to come up against that big body of his.
She’d been having a good time up to that point; suddenly having physical contact with Seth just made it all the better.
And the thought that she was about to dance with him left her almost giddy and feeling a little like someone who could throw everything else away just for the chance.
At least for tonight.
* * *
Lacey had to give Northbridge credit—the little town knew how to kick up its heels. The entire wooden dance floor at the steps of the gazebo was filled with couples, couples carrying kids, teenagers and even a few preteen girls, all dancing to the music played by a local band positioned in the gazebo itself. And nearly everyone was dressed as casually as she and Seth were.
Friendly, relaxed and fun—that was purely and simply what it was, and Lacey gave herself over to it and to the pleasure of being with Seth.
They danced almost every dance. He never once stepped on her toes, and while the joy and merriment all around them contributed to Lacey’s good time, it was Seth she focused on to such an extent that she didn’t even notice when the crowd was thinning or the hour was growing late. So the announcement of the last dance came as a surprise to her.
And as sorry as she was to hear it, she was at least grateful that the last dance was a slow one. Seth swung her into his arms, pulling her close before he clasped his hands at the small of her back.
“You underestimated yourself,” she told him, her own hands on his shoulders, wanting to lay her cheek on his chest but peering up at him instead. “You’re a great dancer.”
“Or maybe it was just my partner who made me look good,” he countered. “You never missed a beat—I’m thinking you must have had lessons.”
“Years of them. We all did. Mom insisted on them for Ian and Hutch because she wanted them doing something—anything—that wasn’t football. She’d gotten me started about a year before she died, but my dad kept me going because he thought girls needed to know how to dance.”
“Did he let your brothers quit?”
“No, by then he’d decided that it helped their agility on the footbal
l field, so he kept them in the class, too. What about you?” she said. “Lessons?”
“In high school—there was an extracurricular class offered, and not only did my friends and I figure it would be an easy A, we also got the idea that it was a way to hook up with girls.”
“Ahh,” Lacey said with a laugh. “Was it?”
He grinned. “Oh yeah!”
Then he perched his chin on the top of her head and talking didn’t seem necessary. Instead it was just nice to sway to the music. To be there with him. To have his arms around her. And Lacey merely went with the flow of it all, a little amazed by how well they seemed to fit together, to move together, to do everything together…
So yes, she was sorry to have that last song end. And their last dance with it. But for a moment longer Seth went on swaying, not letting her go, keeping his chin to her head.
Only when the other dancers finished clapping and whistling and thanking the band, and began to leave, did he take a deep breath that made his chest rise and fall very near to her face, sigh the breath out into her hair and release her.
But what softened the blow of that dance and the evening coming to an end was when he held her hand as they headed for his car.
“I had a really good time,” she confided along the way. “Since high school I’ve hardly ever gotten to dance.”
“You haven’t dated dancers?” he joked.
“No. On the rare occasions when I’ve dated, dancing hasn’t been on the menu.”
“Rare occasions, huh?” he repeated with a sideways glance at her. “Let me guess—you’ve done more working than dating.”
“Yep,” she said, mimicking the clipped answer he frequently gave.
“But there was a fiancé,” he reminded.
“There was,” she confirmed. She’d told him that on Monday night after the groundbreaking, when they were sitting by the pool. And she knew he listened intently to what she said and recalled it all, so it only followed that he’d retained that bit of information.
“How did you get engaged to somebody if you didn’t date?” Seth asked once they were settled in the car.
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