store?” Once again, he had the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “She said it’s a lingerie store trying to open here. And there’s some backlash against it.”
She frowned. “Really? I hadn’t heard that.”
He told her about Sylvester Galimi’s visit to the Widows’ Boardinghouse.
“Wow, a threat,” Brooke mused, as she turned onto First and headed toward the bridge. “Not a physical threat. That wouldn’t be Sylvester’s style.”
He gave that faint smile that she found so captivating, the one that seemed boyish and controlled and secretive all at the same time.
“He knew he couldn’t push my grandma too far—or any of the widows.”
“We all know how they respond to threats,” she mused.
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I thought I’d let you know in case your grandma displays unusual . . . symptoms.”
“Hmm.” She gripped the steering wheel, trying to consider what that might be.
“The widows probably don’t know what the store’s really about,” he said.
“Are you kidding? They know exactly what it’s about. I was there when they went through every screen of the catalogue online. I covered my eyes when both our grandmas exclaimed with delight over a bustier. I could swear I saw Mrs. Ludlow put a teddy in her cart, but I didn’t look too closely.”
“Really?” he countered, obviously surprised. “A teddy? Why did you have to give me an image of what nice little old ladies might wear under their clothes?”
Brooke grinned.
“And how bad is it, that Galimi should be so upset?”
“There’s a little . . . leather involved,” she said, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable. She didn’t want to talk about this stuff with a man she had no business kissing, but it seemed . . . exciting. She told herself to cut it out. “Some of the stuff might not be appropriate for window display, but Em has been to their San Francisco store, and she assures me their windows are tasteful and beautiful.”
“So you’re for it.”
He was eyeing her too closely, and she was feeling way too cocky. “Of course. Every cowgirl needs pretty underwear to feel like a woman under her muddy clothes.”
In a low voice, he said, “You felt like a woman yesterday.”
She swallowed hard, swamped by memories of the passionate kiss they’d exchanged in another truck cab. “Hey, that’s crossing a line.”
He straightened. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“Look, we don’t have a relationship beyond work. Let’s just pretend we’re in high school again. You certainly didn’t want anything to do with me then, so let’s recapture those feelings.”
“What are you talking about? The only thing I remember us clashing over was your insistence that I needed help with my homework. I was pretty offended.”
“Offended? Why? Because I thought you were smart and you could do more and I wanted to help?”
“Whoa, wait a minute. You may have thought you were being helpful, but I smelled pity, and I didn’t appreciate it. I’m getting enough of that from our grandmas, who must have schemed to get me this job.”
“Pity?” she echoed, surprised. “I never pitied you, not even in high school. I saw potential, and thought you needed help finding it. You didn’t take help from me, so obviously you found it from someone else. Whoever it was, I’m glad. You’ve made your grandma so proud. She hardly pities you—unless it was because you were sweetly hanging around the boardinghouse to be with her, and she figured you must be going crazy. That’s not pity. She was helping you.”
He didn’t speak for a moment. “ ‘Sweetly’?” he said, his voice once again laced with faint amusement.
She concentrated on driving across the snowy road winding its way between pastures toward the ranch. “Look, my family isn’t pitying you either.”
He ignored her insistence. “Your problem is that you’re bossy and think you know everything, including how other people feel. That hasn’t changed.”
She pulled into the yard in front of the ranch house, the sun long gone, the last grayness of twilight still hovering about. She threw the pickup into park and turned to face him across the console between the two seats. “But I am your boss, and I do know everything.”
Or so she kept telling herself because she wanted to fling herself across the console and kiss him. He infuriated her, he aroused her. All these emotions roiled around inside her until she could barely remember her promises to herself.
He put a hand on the console, leaning toward her, a light in his eyes that practically burned her, it was so smoldering.
And then she