A doctor. Jazz realigned her initial impression of Dallas to incorporate this fresh detail, making it fit.
“Do you all have careers aside from the ranch?” she asked.
“Not me,” Ryan said, glancing up from his plate. “I’m a ranch hand at the Endeavour full time.”
“But his goal is to open a group home for teenagers,” Dan added.
“I need to atone for a misspent youth,” Ryan confirmed. “I liked fancy cars.”
“You liked stealing fancy cars. There’s a difference.” Dan tapped the table. He had strong, long-fingered, work-roughened hands. “Jazz needs money to set up a training obstacle course in one of the empty hangars.”
The reformed car thief—if that story was true—was in charge of their operating budget? Jazz longed to know why.
Ryan settled his napkin on top of his now-empty plate. “Tell me more.”
She explained what she had in mind while she sipped the iced tea Leila brought her.
His eyes lit up. “Can anyone use it?”
“You’re paying for it, so I don’t see why not.” She accepted the enormous burger Leila set in front of her with a smile. “All I’d ask is that you check the schedule ahead of time in case the firefighters have it booked for training.”
“Done.” He spoke to Dan. “I’ll add the money to your revised budget for washroom facilities at the base.”
“We’re getting new washrooms?” Jazz looked at Dan, too. There were better things to be spending the base’s budget on.
“I meant to talk to you about that.”
Dallas coughed into his fist. He skidded his chair away from the table. “Come on, Light-fingered Louie,” he said to Ryan. “I have a shift at the hospital first thing in the morning and I need a ride home. I hear there’s a sheriff’s vehicle parked on the street. We can boost that.”
“Stay away from my car,” Dan warned them. Jazz couldn’t swear that his alarm was unfeigned.
The two men left. Jazz and Dan were now alone in the pub. The dart players were long gone and Leila was wiping down tables and chairs.
“You don’t have to stay on my account,” she said. “I’m used to eating alone.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as his lips shifted into a grin. “That’s okay. My evening is free. I didn’t already have plans.”
Heat crept up her neck and spread to her cheeks. Fair skin was a curse. It was on the tip of her tongue to make up some excuse for why she’d lied, but that was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place. She took a large bite of her burger, which was fantastic—as Leila had promised—to save herself from digging in any deeper.
“I apologize if Dallas’s comments about adrenaline and sex offended you,” Dan continued. “He has a tendency to say whatever he’s thinking.”
Jazz tried to think why that comment might be considered offensive, or why Dan seemed to assume she’d be offended by it, and came up with nothing. She swallowed her food and met his gaze.
And forgot what she’d been thinking about. His eyes were soblue. So inviting. So friendly.
Adrenaline and sex.
That was what she’d been thinking about. And now, with those blue eyes fastened on her, she couldn’t unthink it. She’d thought Ryan was the dangerous one in the trio. She’d been mistaken.
“It takes a lot more than an offhand remark about sex to offend me,” she said.
“Yet I can’t help but feel that this afternoon, I crossed some line I’m not aware of.” The blue eyes remained friendly enough, but were now a great deal more watchful and probing. Dan the Sheriff must be awesome when it came to interrogation. “What does offend you?”
Jazz examined her half-empty plate. Her appetite was healthy. She burned a lot of calories in the run of a day thanks to training, and yet, no matter how good it was, there was no way she could eat all this food.
She couldn’t avoid giving him an answer, either. She might as well be honest.
“I’ve always made it a rule not to become involved with my coworkers,” she said. “While I know your invitation to dinner was intended to be polite, I try to avoid situations that might be misconstrued. Having dinner with my boss is one of those situations.”
“I guess I can understand that.” His gaze became less intense, as if her answer satisfied any concerns he might have. “Especially since you’re now the boss of men who’d be your former peers.”
“Exactly.” She was relieved he understood.
She was equally glad he had no idea what she’d really been thinking. Dan McKillop, with his billion-dollar eyes and hot, country music star manners and looks, was a dangerous man, and despite knowing better, she found him attractive—meaning she was no different than thousands of women.
She’d do well to avoid him as much as she could.