by Sara Orwig
Barbara laughed. “I love you, Lila, and love having you home. I’ll go see about your dad now. He was asleep when I came in here.”
Lila bent over plans and pictures again. She jotted down ideas as she looked at Shannon’s notes. Finally, she shoved them aside to think about Sam. How was she going to tell him?
* * *
Wednesday morning, even though she didn’t want to see Sam, she couldn’t keep from studying how she looked before she left the ranch. She changed twice before finally settling on a plain two-piece dress, a sleeveless green cotton one with a V neckline. Like several newly purchased dresses for the trip to Royal, the top was tailored and came to her hips with a straight skirt below it that once again hid her waist.
She didn’t want to run into Sam and have him studying her figure while she was wearing something that showed her waist. She brushed her hair and clipped it up on the back of her head. After a few critical moments in front of her mirror, she was satisfied.
When she reached the club, she spread her plans on the game table in the future billiard room to study them again while waiting for Shannon.
Her cell phone interrupted her and she answered to hear Shannon’s voice.
“Lila, I’m sorry. I need to cancel. We have a cow giving birth and having trouble. The vet’s on his way. I am so sorry since I’m sure you’re already at the club.”
“Stop apologizing. Let’s meet tomorrow so today you can concentrate on your cow. Same time, same place.”
“Thanks a lot. Gotta run.”
As Lila gathered her things, Sam entered. He usually dressed casually, but this morning he was in a navy suit and tie, a snowy dress shirt and black boots, a man who would turn female heads anywhere. Just the sight of him made her heart race.
“Good afternoon—looks as if you’re leaving.”
“I was going to meet Shannon, but she’s called and canceled. She has a cow having difficulty giving birth, plus her foreman is sick.”
“I’ll bet you had planned to have lunch with Shannon. Now you don’t have to miss the treat of dining here at the club. I’ll take you to lunch.”
“You know, I eat here plenty with my family,” she said, amused because Sam knew full well she was frequently at the club when she was in town.
His grin widened. “I promise I’ll hide my usual chauvinistic self and we’ll have a good time.”
“I’ll have to admit, to hear you confess that you are fully aware of your old-fashioned, chauvinistic ways is refreshing.”
“Come on. You were going to eat here with Shannon. You can eat with me. We can even talk about the children’s center if you want.”
“Now you’re stretching your credibility. There’s no way you have an interest in the child-care center, so don’t even pretend you do.”
“Didn’t say I’d pretend. I just said we can discuss it—you talk and I’ll listen. Let me take your things and we can leave them with the maître d’.”
“You’re persistent, Sam.”
“Only when it’s important—I’m interested and the best-looking woman in Royal, Texas, is back in town,” he said, taking her things from her.
She shook her head, more at herself than at him, yet he was so tempting. What happened to her backbone where Sam was concerned? Right now she should be saying no firmly and walking out instead of watching him tuck her papers and plans beneath his arm and smile at her.
“I’m glad we’re having lunch together,” he said in a husky voice that sounded more like an invitation to step into his bedroom. “Now tell me about the children’s center,” he said, taking her arm and heading toward the door.
She had to either go along to lunch with him or make an issue of refusing now. It was much easier to just go with him because his sexy voice and spellbinding eyes had sealed the deal for him.
“They’re moving ahead rapidly because Shannon and the other women have coordinated with the construction company. I’m surprised Gordon Construction didn’t have the bid.”
“No, we’re closely involved at the TCC and felt it was a conflict of interest. This is not our deal.”
“Does that translate into ‘We wouldn’t touch the child-care center with a ten-foot pole’?”
He grinned at her. “Sugar, you do have the wrong view of me.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that your sugar endearment is a little demeaning?”
“Sugar? When applied to you? Ahh, never, Lila,” he said, pausing and turning to face her, making her stop. He stood too close, looked at her too intently and had his hand on her wrist, where he could easily feel her racing pulse.
“Sugar where you’re concerned is definitely an endearment,” he said softly, bending his knees to look a little more directly into her eyes. “There is absolutely nothing demeaning about it.”
“It sort of has the connotation of relegating me to the kitchen and bedroom. Have you thought about that?”
“Not at all, because that is not what I’m implying. Believe me, it is a term of endearment for someone who is very special and very female and important to me,” he said in that same husky tone that made her feel as if she were on the verge of melting.
“This lunch is getting personal.”
“Doesn’t have to,” he said cheerfully, taking her arm again and heading for the dining room.
“What are you doing here today?” she asked.
“I met a client. We’re going to build a clinic for him and we met this morning for coffee and to talk about what he wants and for him to sign an agreement. It was all business, but this is a good place to bring clients.”
“I agree with that, and my dad has made a few deals here himself, although he usually makes them out in the open looking at land, or at barns at cattle sales,” she said, thankful to be on a safe, impersonal subject that would have no impact on their lives.
They entered the dining room and she waited while Sam talked to the maître d’. As soon as the waiter had poured their water, he left menus in their hands. It took her only minutes to make a selection from the familiar menu.
“What would you like, Lila?”
“I’ve got my choice in mind. What are you having?” she asked, determined that Sam would not order for her, knowing from past experiences that he expected to. She decided that if she behaved as independently as possible, maybe no more lunch offers would torment her.
“My usual lunch burger. I’m a burger guy and the club’s are mouthwatering,” he said, “but not as much as some other mouthwatering things in life.”
“So what’s your favorite burger on this menu?” she asked, trying to ignore his flirting, remembering how it had felt to run her fingers through his thick light brown hair that he wore collar length.
“The Swiss mushroom—gooey and delicious. I’ll even give you a bite unless that’s what you’re ordering.”
“Of course not. You and I are poles apart in everything, and that includes lunch items,” she said, smiling at him. “Let me guess—you drink iced tea with your lunch.”
“You’re right, but you know that from being with me when we ate lunch together on my patio after the best night of my life.”
“Wow, did I bring that one on myself. Want to hear one of the best nights of my life?” she said in a sultry tone, leaning closer toward him, although the table was large enough to keep a generous space between them.
“Of course, and how I hope it’s the same night I had.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. It was when I learned that a movie in which I had done the setup for the scenes had used nearly all my suggestions. It was exhilarating to know they were impressed by what I’d done, actually using most of it.”
“Congratulations. That’s impressive.”
The waiter appeared to take their orders and looked expectantly at Lila.
“I’ll have the Caesar salad, no chicken, and just my water. Mr. Gordon will have the mushroom-and-Swiss burger, meat medium, with iced tea and shoestrings. Just put all this on my family check—Hacket,” she said, and smiled at the waiter.
“Yes, Miss Hacket,” he said, glancing at Sam. “Anything else?”
“Yes, there is something else. You put all that on my bill. I insist. I invited Miss Hacket to have lunch with me,” Sam said in a commanding voice that caused their waiter to start writing in his tablet.
“Yes, sir.”
“You even got how I like the meat cooked right,” Sam said, looking amused.
“I figured you for the macho type who wants red in his meat,” she said, certain she had annoyed him by ordering.
“Trying to get me in bad with your dad when he sees the club bill, or were you trying to show me how it feels when I order for you, the independent woman?” Sam asked.
“Not one thought crossed my mind about Dad, and I don’t think your name would have shown up on the final bill to him. No, it was more to let you see how it feels to have someone order for you once you’re over five years old and can read.”
“Or maybe you have a chip on your shoulder about being the ‘independent woman.’” He leaned across the table, taking her hand. “Well, sweetie, you can just order away. I’ll remember your preference after this,” he said in his husky, seductive voice while holding her hand and running his thumb back and forth across her knuckles, causing tingles. “I do not want to do one thing to make you unhappy or make you feel less than the very desirable, intelligent woman you are. Now, your danged independence is sort of like a cocklebur in my boot, but there are moments when you lose that independence and that’s worth putting up with all the rest,” he said, dropping back into the sexy tone that kept her heart racing.
He was causing the whole process of ordering for him to backfire, because this was not the result she had intended.
“Sam,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “People will see you holding my hand and think we’re a couple.”
“And…that’s so terrible?”
She smiled broadly, wishing she could make light of what he was saying as she extricated her hand. He leaned back, looking satisfied, as if he had just won the latest skirmish between them. Why had she let him cajole her into this lunch?
“In the first place, we’re not a couple. In the second, I don’t want to have to answer a bunch of unnecessary questions.”
“We could be—it’s all right with me. And questions are easy. Just yes or no will cover it, I think.”
“Well, maybe if you hold the hand of every woman you dine with, people would accept a flat yes or no. So you and your brother didn’t want any part of the child-care center for your business?”
“That isn’t exactly what I said and that’s an abrupt change in our conversation.”
“Yes, it is, because we were getting up close and personal. Too personal. We’re at lunch at the club. Everything I do here goes straight back to Dad.”
“First of all, your dad and I are good friends. Second of all, he’ll be more than happy for you to socialize with club members and you know it. Besides, all we’re doing is having a friendly chat over lunch. That’s as harmless as it gets.”
She smiled at him. “True, Sam. It is completely meaningless as well. So who’s the latest woman in your life? It has to be someone I know.” Lila sipped her water and glanced around the club, hoping she’d convinced Sam that she felt the lunch was harmless and meaningless to her but suspecting she had not in the least.
When the silence stretched a little too long, she glanced at him and was startled to find him sitting back, his head tilted while he studied her. There was an intent look in his eyes and she was glad the table hid the sight of her waist from him.
“There’s no woman in my life now,” he answered evenly. “But I’d like for there to be a very special one and I don’t need to tell you who. You know full well.”
“That is so impossible.”
“There’s nothing impossible about it.”
“I’ve already told you. Don’t you listen? We’re way too opposite. We have whole opposing philosophies—very basic differences that aren’t going to change for either one of us.”
“Go to dinner with me tonight. I’ll take you dancing and I’ll prove to you that we don’t have a hill of beans’ worth of differences between us that matter.”
“Thank you, I already have plans. What are you doing now? What are you constructing, Sam?”
“I’m attempting to develop a relationship with a very beautiful, very reluctant woman,” he said, leaning toward her, but the table and their lunches kept them apart. “Only that reluctance appears to me to be just skin-deep, Lila. I’ll find out why or get past it. Is there a guy in California?”
“I don’t want to go into that,” she replied, eating her salad. “Your burger is getting cold.”
“Aha, that’s a no,” he said with satisfaction.
“You don’t know any such thing,” she said, thinking Sam had expressive eyes that could convey all sorts of emotions. Her attention shifted to his mouth, remembering his kisses, until she realized what she was doing. Her gaze flew up to meet his and saw the mocking satisfaction in the blue depths.
She turned her attention to her salad. There was no way to stop the blush she felt in her face. “This lunch is not exactly turning out like I expected.”
“You want me to back off?” he asked, still sounding amused. “Tell me about this movie shoot you’re getting ready for.”
“It has a Western setting although it’s contemporary and there are some ranches around here that should be perfect for various scenes. As much as possible, we’ll get set up and ready before the cast comes.”
“Makes me wish I had a ranch.”
“In its own way, this is interesting country and the small towns have their own ambience.”
“They have that, all right. Wait until a dust storm blows through.”
“No, thanks. A dust storm isn’t needed for this movie, so we’ll pass on the dust.”
“Can anyone come watch the filming?”
“There will be a place for the public, but to get up close and for some scenes, you’ll have to have an invitation. Do you want me to get you one?”
“No, thanks. I can pass on that deal. Has anyone in this movie ever ridden a horse?”
“I’m sure they have.”
“Tell me about this fascinating job you have. Just what do you do? Arrange furniture on a set?”
She laughed. “Sometimes, but a little more than that. I need to help impart the film’s theme and feeling through the props that we use. The set designs create atmosphere. Location is vital. I look at sites. I oversee the right props, the art department. Sometimes we can find the props we want. Sometimes we have to make our own. It’s interesting, challenging, lots of thinking on your feet, so each assignment is different because each film is different.”
“I can see where that would be interesting. What about the sexy movie guys?”
“They’re just people.”
“You say that like you mean it. I’d think any female would be attracted.”
“They’re larger than life on-screen and in those stories. Away from that, they’re just people like everyone else.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. You like being home again?”
“Of course I do.”
“If you got a job in Midland and worked there, you’d be home a lot but still away.”
“I don’t believe they make many movies in Midland.”
“I guess they don’t,” he said, giving her a thoughtful look that made her want to get away from his scrutiny.
She finished all she could eat of her salad, leaving half, and
she noticed Sam only ate half his burger. The waiter went straight to Sam to sign for the meal.
“Thanks for the lunch, Sam.” As she stood, he did, coming around to pull out her chair. He followed her to the lobby. “I’m going home now.”
“Can’t talk you into dinner tonight?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I do have plans. Thanks again for lunch,” she said.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He fell into step beside her, taking the plans and papers from her hand.
“Have they heard anything more about Alex?” she asked.
“Not that I know about. Nathan still hasn’t let the media know about the truck, but since he told the club and other people were at the scene, I think the word has gone through a segment of the Royal population.”
“I’m sure it has. Sophie is still working in his office, so I hope she’s safe. I hope Nathan is keeping an eye on the office.”
“I’d guess he is. Sophie should be okay. She wasn’t deeply involved with Alex except through her job.”
Lila paused beside a dark blue four-door car. “Thanks again.”
“You have a new car?”
“Oh, no. This is just one of Dad’s that I’m using while I’m here.” She climbed in, then started the car. When she lowered the window, Sam folded his arms on the window’s edge and bent down to talk.
“Lunch was fun. It would be a lot more fun to have dinner. I’ll try again.”
“Give it up, Sam. We’re both better off,” she said, her words becoming breathless. Now he was only inches away, his face thrust into the open window. She gazed into thickly lashed blue eyes that could immobilize her, and take her breath.
He leaned closer. “See, Lila,” he said softly, “you’re responding to me now. Sparks fly between us. If I felt your pulse, my guess is that it’s racing,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ll tell you something—my pulse is racing, too. I feel what you’re feeling.”
“Doesn’t matter, Sam,” she whispered. “Nothing will come of it. Now you need to move away.” He slipped his hand into the car, reaching behind her head to pull her the last few inches, and he leaned in, his mouth covering hers to kiss her.