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“I don’t know why I bother anymore,” the dark-haired one said good-naturedly. Isaiah, Cassidy had called him. “I can’t remember the last time I won.”
Yes, he was kind of dreamy if you liked boyish charm and that type who never forgot his smile at home. He had extremely unusual eyes, one blue, one green, and that alone was enough to keep a woman’s attention for a while.
“December. Two years ago. At the base.”
That comment had come from the one sitting backward in a chair at the head of the table. He was blond too, but that’s where his similarities to Tristan ended. His hair was darker, and he wore it short. Tristan’s was pale, long, and pulled back at his crown, plus he had an angelic face that could have easily graced a magazine cover. The man set apart from the others had a hardness about him that said you didn’t want to get too close, and if you crossed him, look out.
“Do you have to catalog everything, Stillwater?” Caleb said to him with a grin. “Maybe you could delete a few files up there in your brain.”
“Why?” he asked in perfect seriousness. “I have unlimited storage.”
“What’s that one’s name?” Havana asked Aria out of the corner of her mouth. Clearly she needed to get a handle on her adversaries because she didn’t for a moment believe that Caleb wouldn’t call on his friends to help him blow her shopping center plans into oblivion.
“Hudson. Like the river,” her sister murmured back. “The other one is Rowe. Caleb’s brother.”
Oh, yes, the one she’d registered had the same last name. She’d scarcely even noticed him sitting there on the other side of Caleb. He hadn’t said a word the entire time they’d been playing cards, and he kind of blended into the background since his nondescript brown shirt was the same color as the vinyl stretched across the back of the booth.
Funny how she’d thought to herself that Caleb was the one who might blend into his surroundings given the right circumstances, but his brother was the one who had accomplished it.
“Since they’re done with the show, how about a cheeseburger,” Havana suggested to Aria, hoping she’d morph back into a waitress before Serenity’s pen pals generated a new wave of excitement. “I’m starving.”
Aria started like she’d forgotten she worked here. “Sure, right away.”
When Aria broke away from the group, Caleb glanced up to catch Havana watching him, pulling her into a staring contest. What, did he think he intimidated her? Boldly she kept her gaze on him, eyebrows slightly cocked in feigned amusement.
“You always win card games?” she couldn’t help but call out to him. “How much do you cheat?”
“He doesn’t cheat,” Rowe Hardy said immediately, his quiet brown eyes lifting to meet hers. “He keeps track of the cards better because he’s smarter than everyone else.”
Caleb shrugged that off with a lopsided smile for Rowe. “I count cards. So what? Useless skill unless you gamble, and I don’t.”
Which said a lot about his character, and she wished she didn’t appreciate that about him so much. Or that his brother had been the first to defend him against a false accusation. They were clearly close, unlike Havana and her sisters, which made her throat tight for more than one reason. They also had the same eyes, but where Rowe’s were soft and unremarkable, Caleb’s snappy almond-colored irises had haunted her dreams last night. Against her will, no less.
She didn’t want to dream about him, and she definitely didn’t want to admire a single thing about him. Especially not the fact that he’d figured out how to maintain a relationship with his brother into adulthood, likely because he hadn’t run off at the first opportunity.
Serenity had been chatting with a small knot of women, but she chose that moment to saunter over, joining the fascinated group of onlookers that hadn’t quite dissipated after the card game ended.
“Did you have a nice day, Havana?” she asked politely with less warmth in her voice than a subzero freezer.
Their relationship was still strained. Had been since about forty-five seconds after Havana had explained that the few dilapidated buildings along J Street, named for Mavis who lived above Voodoo Grocery, would be taken down to pave the way for the shopping center.
Actually, the strain had always been there flitting around them. She and Serenity had never quite meshed, largely owing to completely different life philosophies. Havana had embraced the responsibilities thrust on her at ten. Serenity had done her best but had seemed baffled by her three new charges, often sticking her head in the sand when things got too complicated. Force wasn’t even Serenity’s real last name. She’d borrowed it from Star Wars, a constant reminder that they might be related by blood but not much else.
“It was fine.” Which wasn’t even a lie. Any day she got one step closer to her shopping center project was a good day. She just needed to take about ten more steps, or the resort would be in jeopardy and then the shopping center wouldn’t even be on the table. “Did you think more about the cash offer Damian made for the hotel? It’s more than fair, but I think there’s some wiggle—”
“She’s not selling,” Caleb cut in flatly, because of course he was listening in and assumed he was invited to participate in the conversation. “Your money is no good here.”
A couple of the onlookers chuckled out loud, which put a twinge in her stomach. Lennie Ford, the owner of the antique store next to Ruby’s, had hung around to listen, and the longer the conversation went on, the more his mouth downturned. Not good. He’d been on the fence about selling to Damian’s investors despite Serenity’s hatchet job to Havana’s pitch, and she’d honestly thought he might be skewing toward a yes. Or at least he had been until Caleb Hardy showed up.
Honestly, that man could sell ice to Santa Claus with his almond-colored eyes and smooth voice that slithered through a girl’s senses whether she wanted it to or not. Fine. Since she’d stumbled thus far in her persuasion techniques, she could take a few tips from Mr. Hardy.
It was time for her to get down to the business of beating the former SEAL at his own game.
Nine
“Maybe you could butt out of things that are none of your business,” she suggested sweetly to Caleb and deliberately turned her back on him. “Lennie, wouldn’t you like to reopen your antique store in a premier shopping center with guaranteed traffic?”
How he stayed in business, she’d never know. She was offering him a lifeline in the form of cold, hard cash. The mystery was why he wasn’t jumping at it. That’s where she had to focus, on his hesitations.
