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She stared at his profile, incredulous. “You don’t even know what I was about to ask!”
“Doesn’t matter. Answer’s still no. Just you.”
She considered this a moment. She had absolutely no reason to doubt the man. He’d been forthcoming about everything she’d quizzed him on thus far. So she had to let this one go.
And really, she didn’t want to argue. If he was implying that he’d never slept with Lydia Bain, then she wasn’t going to push and prod until she drove him nuts. Besides, now that they had some distance from the incident, she had to admit she really couldn’t imagine Jack with Lydia. He hadn’t acted sexually interested in her. Just concerned about her well-being.
What the hell was wrong with that? She was his aunt, for Christ’s sake! A step-aunt, but still. No need to quibble over semantics. Maybe all of the mixed signals and Liza’s slow acclimation to small-town life had impaired her judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as she settled back in the seat.
“For what?”
“Everything. I’m completely misreading…everything.”
Jack chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that.”
She glanced his way and his eyes were on her again, burning bright with desire. She couldn’t help but smile. And blush. “Well, I don’t want to make any assumptions about that…”
“Assume away, darlin’.”
He pulled alongside her Mercedes as he’d done last night. She remembered her reaction when he’d commented on her “fancy wheels”. The car had been a gift from Peter the first Christmas they’d celebrated together. At first, she’d been too blown away to see the present for what it truly was. Not a generous gift to someone he loved. Rather, Peter had loathed hearing her say she drove a Honda whenever someone inquired at a party. What one drove was as important as one’s address, he’d told her.
The truth was, Peter had been ashamed of her inability to flaunt her family money. She’d never dipped into her trust fund. Whatever she owned was a result of her hard work. She even paid market-value rent on her apartment, despite the fact that her mother owned the building.
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But Liza didn’t want to think about New York. She loved the convertible, but maybe she’d sell it since it stuck out like a sore thumb in Wilder. And speaking of… She really needed to get her head on straight where this little town and the sexy cowboy were concerned.
Pushing from her mind all thoughts of Lydia Bain and the accident and her subsequent argument with Jack, she focused instead on the afternoon ahead. “Well,” she said. “You have to work tonight and I should probably unpack the rest of my stuff and maybe find a newspaper. I need a job.” Something to fill her time so she wasn’t obsessing over Jack and all the peculiarities of Wilder.
“Do what you have to do, darlin’.”
As she got out of Jack’s truck, she thought about what she was doing here in Wilder. She’d wanted a simpler existence. She’d wanted something less pretentious and fake than what she’d had in New York. Something real and substantial.
Her biggest fear at this point was that she was too programmed to make a change. Then again, maybe it was just a matter of time for her. Maybe she needed to take things in stride. See situations and people for who they were and what they had to offer.
By the time Jack made it around to her side of the truck, she felt remorseful about the way she’d jumped so easily to convenient conclusions.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t mean to spoil our afternoon.”
“You didn’t spoil anything,” he said and his deep tone was filled with enough conviction to give her hope that he was telling the truth.
“Maybe I’m just road-lagged from the drive from New York. Long trip, especially with all the stops I made along the way.”
He whisked away strands of hair from her face with his fingers. “You’ve got a few things to figure out, darlin’.”
She frowned. He was holding her at arm’s length, emotionally. She could see that quite clearly. But there was more to it than that. Jack was urging her to face her own demons, yet he was only allowing her to see in his life what he wanted her to see. Leaving Liza way out in left field.
“I’ve got to clean up and head over to the saloon,” he said.
She nodded her head. “See ya.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then went back to his side of the vehicle. He drove up the hill and parked his truck in front of the detached, three-car garage. Liza dragged her eyes from Jack climbing out of his truck and her gaze swept over the grounds, landing on the large farmhouse with the wrap-around deck. All painted crisp white against the green of the leaves on the trees and the lush carpet of grass that surrounded the house and the outbuildings.
She wondered about Jack’s choice to live out here, away from town. The manicured grounds were striking, no doubt about it. And the lake, sprawled at the feet of the property, was placid and soothing in the afternoon. Later tonight, the fog would roll in and ribbon through the mountains across the way and hover above the water. It’d stay that way ‘til early morning when it burned off, as she’d learned from her brief stay in Wilder.
When she turned back to face her cottage, Liza felt a little confused over the misjudgment she’d had this morning in thinking that Jack had fixed the place up for someone special. Though, really, there was no confirmation that hadn’t been the case. He could have been seeing someone from Austin or San Antonio and had thought she’d settle down with him here.
