SLOW PLAY (7-Stud Club #4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,48

good for law enforcement to have the pulse of what’s going on in the area even if we’re not specifically called in to handle each and every thing,” he said. “That way little problems don’t escalate into big ones.”

Eugene’s beetling brows drew together. “We protect our own and I don’t want any of our part-timers or seasonal workers getting caught up in the cops’ dragnet.”

Dragnet. Mad wiped his mouth again. “Eugene, how about if I come to you first if there’s a hint of involvement by anyone associated with Sunnybird Farm? And you come to me when there’s hinky goings-on around here?”

“All right,” the older man said in a grudging tone. “I suppose I can trust you.”

“Of course you can trust him,” Harper chimed in. “Mad is very trustworthy.”

He sent her an aggrieved look, knowing a dig when he heard one, but she mitigated the pain by sending a questing bare foot beneath the leg of his jeans. Under the table, his hand shot out and clamped her thigh.

Okay, maybe it was more caress than clamp, but he had a part of her under him again and he liked it.

And there was no danger regarding how much he liked it, of course, because her short-timer status rendered her safe.

“More potatoes?” Rebecca passed him a bowl, forcing him to use both hands.

The meal proceeded peacefully from there. Eugene and Mary reminisced about their past travel adventures and Harper turned to him. “I’ve been telling them it’s time to plan another trip, Mad,” she said. “You’ve been to some great places. Would you recommend Ireland?”

“For the beer, the pubs, and the music, yes.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit the Waterford factory,” Mary said, looking to her husband with a wistful expression.

“And I’ll be able to handle the farm while you’re gone, Dad,” Rebecca said. “You can consider it practice for when you and Mom retire.”

Eugene set down his fork. “I don’t see how that will ever happen.”

“I know you won’t cease being involved, Dad,” Rebeca amended. “I just mean you can take it a little easier.”

“But what happens if—when—you want to take it a little easier?” Eugene asked.

“I have Mike—”

“What if Mike wants to take it a little easier?” her father persisted.

“Dad…”

“I’ve been thinking about what happens down the road.” The older man picked up his coffee mug and stared inside. “This farm has been in our family since 1968.”

“And it will stay in our family,” Rebecca reassured him. “I’m not planning any changes of address or lifestyle.”

“But after you?” Eugene Hill shifted his glance to Harper.

His granddaughter froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

“Don’t push Harper,” Rebecca said, frowning.

“She’s part of this family as well. It’s her legacy.”

“Let’s not project that far into the future, Grandpop,” Harper said. “I’m a more in-the-moment kind of woman.”

“Is that the same as saying you’ll come back and help your mom run the farm when the time comes?”

“Grandpop…”

“Or are you planning on marrying a blackjack dealer and live in that place where all classic bands go to die undignified deaths?”

“I would never marry a blackjack dealer! They work terrible hours.”

“As do you,” Harper’s grandfather pointed out.

Mad sat back, watching the exchange. Harper did some more fancy dancing, but in the end she deflated. “Grandpop, I cry uncle.”

He smiled at her.

“Returning to the farm isn’t a hard no, okay?” she said.

“Okay.”

“At some future date.”

“All right.” He nodded. “I’m satisfied then.”

After dessert, Harper walked Mad to his SUV. “You did good,” she said. “Gaining Grandpop’s confidence, I mean. The phrase ‘hinky goings-on’ seemed to cinch it.”

Leaning against the driver’s door, he pulled out his keys. “You made it easy by giving me your seal of approval.”

She smiled, the corners of her mouth curving mischievously and looked up at him through her thick lashes. Pure seduction. “I’ve given you much more than that.”

“Bad girl,” he chided, then ran a knuckle down her soft cheek.

Another sexy look. “You know I owe you.”

“I thought about that all through apple pie and ice cream.”

“Making me the cherry on top? You already popped that.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be crude.”

“Don’t be stodgy.” But of course she was smiling again.

He broached a more delicate subject. “How do you feel about giving in to your grandfather and promising him you’ll be a farm girl again someday?”

Her gaze slid from his. “Someday is the operative word. It’s not anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s a decision for far, far in the future.”

At that, he kissed her quick then climbed into his car alone, deciding now