that didn’t mean it pissed Declan off any less.
“You’re the lady from the diner.”
“Yes.” That was it. No other information. Just a terse word and a glare.
Not exactly the best town welcoming committee. “Do you have a name, Ms. Woman Who Hates Me For No Reason?”
“Leah Baron. Daughter of Marc Baron.”
Okay, maybe she did have a reason. The Baron name figured prominently in Charlie Hanover history, and not in a good way. “Did you follow me home, Leah?”
She cocked her head to the side, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. The sunlight streamed through the wavy strands.
Not that he noticed. He was working damn hard not to notice the pretty round face and the long legs. Guessing what her body looked like under that tiny top was an off-limits topic as well.
“You left the diner over an hour ago,” she said as she crossed her arms over her stomach.
That sounded a bit stalkerish for his liking but he decided to hear her out instead of throw her out. For now. “Is that a no?”
“I figured you’d end up here eventually. I parked down the street and waited.”
Yeah, no doubt about it. He’d been in town for exactly one day and acquired a stalker. Wasn’t that just fucking fantastic.
He’d wait to be flattered by the attention, though he doubted there was anything positive about it, and stay on guard until he figured out her danger level. Right now he guessed she fell into the furious-Charlie-victim category, which was an ever-growing group. But Declan had seen some terrible things during his time in the military and after. He knew how quickly people could turn, and he had no intention of being in her line of fire if she did.
“Let me guess. You came here because, as you pointed out to your friend earlier, I own the place.” He played along, waiting to see what she would do and say. Being alone with her on a twenty-acre property and without a weapon inside ten feet made him more cautious than usual. “I feel as if we’ve already met, what with you knowing so much about me or thinking you do.”
“You shouldn’t have listened in on that private conversation at lunch.”
She had to be kidding. When she just stood there, staring at him with those full lips stretched into a flat line, he got the point. Not kidding.
“So, you’re saying it was my fault you were talking shit about me?” he asked.
She dropped her arms and glanced around, her gaze brushing over the land with a softness that wasn’t there a second ago. “Are you moving in?”
He figured that was as close as he was going to get to an answer. “Possibly.”
Her anger snapped back into place, pulling her body straight and narrowing her eyes. “You’re not sure?”
Enough nonsense. He shifted his weight back on his heels and spared her a we’re-done-here scowl. “I don’t know yet.”
“You’re a big boy, Declan. You should have a real answer.”
The damn woman didn’t back down one inch. The same look had sent two-hundred-pound-plus sergeants running but the louder he got, the bolder she acted.
“And my answer would be your business because . . . ?”
“Humor me.”
As far as he was concerned, he already was. “I inherited the place from my grandmother.”
“Yes, I know. Nanette Hanover.” Leah grumbled when she said the name.
“Ah right, you traced the ownership to her and intend to challenge it.” He’d heard the claims. Charlie swindled the town and his grandmother ended up with the big house on the hill. The timing sure was suspect but the evidence never matched up to anything other than the purchase coming from the funds his grandmother saved from his grandfather’s insurance policy when he died years before. Declan had checked and double-checked that math several times just because he’d wondered how deep her knowledge and complicity went.
“Everyone knew your grandmother.” An edge moved into Leah’s voice and her gaze traveled over the falling-down porch behind him.
It didn’t take an intelligence specialist to know her issues extended past Charlie to Nanette. Declan knew so little about his grandmother, had spent so few hours with the Hanover side of the family after his parents divorced when he was eight. “I notice you didn’t add that they liked my grandmother.”
“Most did.”
“Not you?”
“Your dad’s reputation is my biggest concern.”
The woman excelled at giving nonanswers to simple questions. “Yeah, I heard your thoughts on him the first time. Before you move on to my mother, let’s stop with the family