He’d thought about it many times, but never with serious intent. Their chemistry was a little too combustible, more like a flash bang than a slow burn, and he’d reached a point in his life where he liked to take his time with a woman.
“Whoa,” he said, combating her skepticism with lighthearted banter. “Let’s not get crazy. How about we try a one-week cease-fire and see how things go?”
Her features relaxed into a genuine smile and Shane realized she was relieved. His ego took a hit. Had she been dismayed that he’d viewed her in a romantic light? Most women would be thrilled. Once again he reminded himself that she was unique and he couldn’t approach her the same way he did every other female on the planet.
“Does that mean you’re not going to try to buy Hope Springs for a week?” Despite her smile, her eyes were somber as she waited for his answer.
“Sure.”
“Let’s make it two weeks, then.”
To his surprise, she held out her hand like it was some sort of legal agreement. Shane realized that for all their interaction, they’d never actually touched skin to skin. The contact didn’t disappoint.
Pleasure zipped up his arm and lanced straight through his chest. If he hadn’t been braced against the shock, he might have let slip a grunt of surprise. Her grip was strong. Her slender fingers bit into his hand without much effort on her part. He felt the work-roughened calluses on her palm and the silky-smooth skin on the back of her hand. It was a study in contrasts, like everything else about her.
Desire ignited even as she let go and snatched up her bill. With an agile shift of her slim body, she was sliding into the narrow space between his chair and hers. Her chest brushed his upper arm and he felt the curve of her breasts even through the layers of her sweater and his jacket.
“See you, Delgado.”
Before he got his tongue working again, she’d scooped her coat and purse off the back of the chair and was headed for the front cash register. Helpless with fascination, he watched her go, enjoying the unconscious sashay of her firm, round butt encased in worn denim. The woman knew how to make an exit.
“Damn,” he murmured, signaling to the waitress that he wanted his coffee topped off. He had a meeting in half an hour, but needed to calm down before he headed out.
A cup of coffee later, he’d recovered enough to leave. As he looked for his bill, he realized it was missing. He’d distinctly recalled Heidi sliding it onto the counter, but now it was gone. He caught her eye and she came over with the coffeepot.
“More coffee, Shane?”
“No, I’ve got to get going, but I don’t see my bill and wondered if it ended up on the floor over there.” He indicated her side of the counter.
“All taken care of.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Brandee got it.”
Had that been the reason for her brush by? In the moment, he’d been so preoccupied by her proximity that he hadn’t been aware of anything else. And he understood why she’d paid for his meal. She was announcing that she was independent and his equal. It also gave her a one-up on him.
“Thanks, Heidi.” In a pointless assertion of
his masculinity, he slid a ten-dollar tip under the sugar dispenser before heading out the door.
As he headed to his SUV, he considered his action. Would he have been compelled to leave a large tip if Gabe or Deacon had picked up his tab? Probably not. Obviously it bothered him to have a woman pay for his meal. Or maybe it wasn’t just any woman, but a particular woman who slipped beneath his skin at every turn.
Why had he rejected the idea of dating her so fast? In all likelihood they’d drive each other crazy in bed. And when it was over, things between them would be no worse. Seemed he had nothing to lose and a couple months of great sex to gain.
As he headed to The Bellamy site to see how the project was going, Shane pondered how best to approach Brandee. She wasn’t the sort to be wowed with the things he normally tried and she’d already declared herself disinterested in romantic entanglements. Or had she?
Shane found himself back at square one, and realized just how difficult the task before him was. Yet he didn’t shy from the challenge. In fact, the more he thought about dating Brandee, the more determined he became to convince her to give them a shot.
But how did a man declare his intentions when the woman was skeptical of every overture?
The answer appeared like the sun breaking through the clouds. It involved the project nearest and dearest to her heart: Hope Springs Camp for at-risk and troubled teenagers. He would somehow figure out what she needed most and make sure she got it. By the time he was done, she would be eating out of his hands.
* * *
Brandee left the Royal Diner after paying for Shane’s breakfast, amusing herself by pondering how much it would annoy him when he found out what she’d done. She nodded a greeting to several people as she headed to the library. Once there, however, all her good humor fled as she focused on finding out whether there was any truth to Maverick’s assertion that Shane was a direct descendant of Amelia Crowley.
It took her almost five hours and she came close to giving up three separate times, but at long last she traced his family back to Jasper Crowley. Starting with newspapers from the day Jasper had penned the dowry document, she’d scrolled through a mile of microfiche until she’d found a brief mention of Amelia, stating that she’d run off with a man named Tobias Stone.