And here he was on the road north, heading to a state he’d sworn he’d never visit with a woman he barely knew but intended to marry.
What would Cam make of that?
*
Any hesitation shefelt when she’d climbed in the Jeep this morning had faded by the time they stopped for gas and to stretch their legs.
She watched a family play catch with a small, scruffy dog on a patch of grass.What would it be like to have a dog to cuddle and play with?She’d always wanted one, but for the Family, all animals were working animals.Plus, she moved too much.Worked too many hours.Dogs needed homes.Security.Routine.She couldn’t easily flee with a dog, and many apartments didn’t allow them.
But what if…
No.She’d committed to six months.A year if they both agreed.Nothing longer.This wouldn’t be a real marriage.She wouldn’t be a real wife.This was a business partnership.She wouldn’t let it become a trap.
But it didn’t stop the longing for a dog.
Telford leaned against the Jeep, watching her.He was on the phone.He’d taken quite a few calls as he’d driven, his voice quiet, decisive, one earbud in so she didn’t know what the call was about or who was on the line.She hadn’t minded the quiet.She’d finished crocheting the navy, duster-style vest and had stitched on a few of the smoky blue and gray crocheted flowers.It was a prototype—something she could quickly make, but it had an eye-catching style and could be individualized, and she could sell it at a decent profit.
Her online store didn’t bring in enough to live on unless she seriously scaled up to mass market, but she didn’t have to worry about income for the next six months or so.And her expenses would be minor.Telford had been adamant.But she’d pay for her crochet and knitting supplies.She’d insist on that.
The initial signing bonus had been deposited into her account, giving her more breathing room.Telford had held up his end of the contract.And now she had to do hers.
She turned her back on him, angled up the phone, making sure that the Jeep and his brooding profile was visible but a little out of focus—she’d add a sepia filter to give him and the background an old-time western feel, while the vest and only her jawline and hint of bottom lip would be in clear focus.
She took several shots and began to play with the filters.
“That’s the first girlie Gen Z thing I’ve seen you do—well, besides the knitting.”
Her heart jumped, and she nearly bobbled her phone.He’d startled her.Not good.
“You’re sneaky like a cat,” she accused, “and this is crocheting, not knitting.Knitting takes two needles and I do knit, but this vest is something I can make quickly.I wanted a quick and easy project for the drive.”
“The vest you’re wearing and the scarf, are those yours?”
She nodded.
“Suits you.”His hand brushed along her hair and brushed along her jaw.“Ready to get back on the road?”
Her heart rate kicked up with the touch, but she blamed it on the excitement of seeing a new town.
Yeah, that’s it.
*
Telford drove downthe main street of Marietta, literally called Main Street, and felt like he was on a movie set.The historic western aesthetic irked him.Tourists likely found the town charming—a peekaboo back into what had once been known as the wild west.But all he could think about was this could have been his heritage.His mother would have been safe here, surrounded by family—wouldn’t have needed to be a woman alone, fending off unwanted advances.She might still be alive.
Shoulda coulda woulda.He knew he was being unreasonable.
He refocused on the street.It did no good to look back.Only forward.Cam had always pushed that.Each interaction, each deal, each success or failure was critical as it was happening and then when it closed in victory or defeat, that was the end.Over.The next deal was the focus.
His gaze slid to Ayana.She was turned toward the window, seeming to take everything in.She’d finished the vest and was onto another project, but her busy hands were idle.What was she thinking about—questioning her decision to accept his offer?
There was a quiet, watchfulness to Ayana that both resonated with and worried him.She radiated confidence, much like his mother had.But she had secrets.His mother too had had secrets.She hadn’t gone to the cops to tell them about the men hassling her.She hadn’t told her father or the owner of the ranch.She’d wanted to handle problems on her own.
Telford wondered if he and Ayana would get to the point that she would share why she kept moving.Why she always clocked the entrances and exits in each room they entered.He needed to be prepared if Ayana’s past came calling.But he wanted her to trust him.
A grim smile touched his lips.He didn’t doubt he could deal with any past that came knocking.She might be frightened if she knew what lived inside of him that he hid with the suits and the wealth and his own quiet, watchful calm.
“So what’s the plan of attack?”she asked, turning toward him, her stunning eyes assessing his mood.
