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Dale pauses a moment before answering. Then, “I’m sure she wants to spend the day with Dee. After all, she’s leaving tomorrow.”
“I’d actually love to see the town.”
“Diana’s perfectly capable of being your tour guide,” Dale says. “It won’t take long. Snow Creek’s so tiny that if you blink, you’ll miss it.”
“Diana will be busy packing today,” Talon says.
Why is Dale’s dad pushing us together? I’m not sure, but seeing Snow Creek with Dale sounds…intriguing.
“I’m just going to stop at the grocery,” he says. “Not play tour guide.”
Talon frowns slightly at his son. I get it. He doesn’t want to reprimand a thirty-five-year-old man, but I see it in his eyes. He’s not happy with Dale’s reticence.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “Maybe I’ll go in myself and explore.”
Except I don’t have a car. Dumbass move on my part.
“Morning!” Brianna breezes in, hair damp and pulled into a low ponytail. She holds a pink cowboy hat. It suits her.
“I was wondering when you’d be up,” Talon says. “We’ve got to get out to the orchards.”
“I’m ready. I finished all my packing yesterday. I’m all yours today.”
“Coffee, Miss Bree?” Darla asks.
“Yes, please, Darla.”
Talon stands. “Put hers in a to-go cup. One for me, as well.”
“Of course.” Darla assembles two cups of coffee.
“Thank you, Darla. We’ll be gone most of the day, but we’ll be home for dinner. Are you planning anything special for Diana and Brianna’s last night at home?”
“Miss Jade and I are working on it. Be home by six.”
“Will do.” Talon grabs his cowboy hat and one of the coffees. “Come on, Bree.”
Bree takes the other cup of coffee and then looks over her shoulder at me. “Don’t let Dale give you too hard a time. He’s really a softy at heart.”
Dale stiffens. Will he argue with his sister’s words? I half expect him to have a major cow.
He doesn’t.
I have a feeling his sisters can get away with anything. He adores them.
Still, Bree’s description doesn’t ring true. A softy at heart? I don’t think so. Dale Steel may be a lot of things, but soft isn’t one of them.
Not in the least.
We sit alone at the large kitchen table, Darla scuttling in the background, until Dale finally stands.
“I should go.”
“Okay. What time should I report on Monday?”
“Eight, at the offices. Dee can show you where everything is today.”
“She’ll be packing,” I remind him.
He lets out a slight scoff. Then, “For God’s sake,” under his breath.
I force a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He shakes his head. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll report. You can drive over on Mon—”
“I…”
“What?”
“I don’t have a car here. I drove from Cali with Diana.”
“Fuck. All right. You can drive with me, then, but I usually go in early. Between six and seven.”
Living on a ranch definitely has its drawbacks. Sure, I’m an early riser, but I like to spend the first couple hours of the day with orange juice and a good book.
“All right,” I say. “I’ll meet you at your house at six.”
“I may not be ready right at six. I said I go in between six and seven.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“That’s silly,” he says. “I’ll just swing by here and get you. Just be ready by six.”
Hmm. So he doesn’t want me waiting at his house. Whatever. I’ll be ready at six a.m. on Monday as if my life depends on it. Leave it to Dale Steel to show up right at six on my first day.
“Come on,” Dale says. “Let’s go. I’ve got shit to do today.”
I rise and follow him out the back door and up the pathway to his guesthouse.
“Stay here,” he says, once we get inside. “I’m going to take a quick shower and change.”
Damn. Just what I don’t need. An image of naked Dale Steel, water pelting his gorgeous body.
“Why am I here, then?” I ask, bending down to let Penny lick my face. “You could have picked me up at the house.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking. Make yourself at home. The fridge is empty, but there’s coff— Hell, you don’t drink coffee. Well, there’s water.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“I won’t.” He walks down a hallway and disappears into what I presume is his bedroom.
Curiosity washes over me. What does Dale’s bedroom look like?
And this house is huge. This is a guesthouse? I may live in LA, but I don’t live like the elite. I spent many years not having a home at all.
He did say to make myself at home. I look around the kitchen, for starters, since we came in the back door and that’s where we landed. It’s nothing compared to the kitchen in the main house, but it’s about five times bigger than the tiny galley in my LA apartment. A carafe of coffee sits on the burner, but the coffee maker has already turned itself off. I open the refrigerator. Whoa. He wasn’t lying. Condiments line the shelf on the door, but the inside is pretty bare, save for some cans of Diet Coke—since when does Dale Steel need to drink anything labeled diet?—and a few bottles of white wine.
