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“Long story,” he said smoothly, his voice as ragged and fascinating as it had been back at Mavis J’s. “I’m Caleb Hardy.”
When he clasped her hand, the buzz that she’d convinced herself had been imaginary arced between them, nearly frying all her circuits as well as it had the first time.
“Caleb,” she croaked and snatched her hand to her side in hopes of jump-starting her brain back to some functional level, which did not work apparently.
By the time she could speak again, the other three men had introduced themselves, and the best she had to show for it was the impression that the one with a full beard had the same last name as Caleb, so they were brothers or cousins, or it was a raging coincidence that she knew nothing about because a man had touched her.
Ridiculous.
Time to get control of this crazy train. She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you all. If I might steal you away, Aunt Serenity? I have something I need to discuss—”
“Actually,” Caleb drawled, forcing her attention back to his face, where a day-old shadow of whiskers had darkened his jaw to the point of distraction. “You and I need to have a conversation first.”
“We, um… what?”
“Clear out, Elmer,” he instructed the dark-haired one next to him, who moved instantly, allowing Caleb to slide from the booth.
Before she could peep out question one, he hustled her away from the table with a gentle grip on her elbow. No one at the table stopped him. Or said a word. Including her aunt, which was typical. She’d always let Havana take care of herself along with everyone else.
Too shocked to protest, she let him lead her a good four steps before she remembered her voice did actually work. “What are you doing? I need to talk to Serenity, not you.”
“Oh, I disagree,” he countered, and somehow he’d gotten her feet to move again. “Best we do this outside.”
Outside? Where there were no witnesses? The man was former military, which explained why his arms were the size of a tree branch but not what he could possibly have to say to her privately.
Unless he’d mistaken pig wrangling as an expression of interest. Maybe that was considered courtship where he came from. Privacy meant loads of opportunity to flirt with a woman he’d decided to pursue. That stymied her so much she forgot to argue. Where was Damian when she needed him?
Back at the hotel, of course, because she’d stupidly told him she didn’t need him while she tried some different persuasion techniques with Serenity—she had to figure out why she wasn’t selling this deal, and having a discussion with the other half of Team Doritos wasn’t going to get her closer to that.
Fine. Caleb Hardy wanted to talk—so did she. So she could tell him that strong-arm tactics didn’t work on her. Once on the street, she jammed her hands down on her hips and whirled to face him. Holy cow, he was much closer than she’d realized and smelled like man and something clean, bright.
His eyes were brown. The dim light at Mavis J’s hadn’t revealed that, but out here in the sun, it was hard to miss the unusual almond color. Fascinated, she fell into them for a brief moment of insanity, recalling how he’d looked at her after helping her off the floor—as if she was special simply because she’d helped him chase a pig.
She liked helping, the rush of knowing she’s made someone’s life better. She liked it when people recognized her efforts even more. And he had. For a shining moment they’d had perfect cohesion. They could again; it was all right there in his eyes… She shuddered at the cocoon of awareness that had just formed between them and willed it away. Who cared what color the man’s eyes were?
She took a step back. But he followed her, not letting her get more than an inch or two away.
“Stop that,” she instructed throatily, mortified that he’d managed to affect her voice. “You’re crowding me.”
“Stop moving away,” he countered, his voice low. “I’m trying to have a conversation that won’t be broadcast to the entire town in under ten minutes.”
The fact that he’d clued in on that possibility while she was still busy trying to get her reactions to him under control annoyed her for some reason. “You don’t know how this town works, so stop pretending you do.”
Pot, meet kettle. She was the last person who could claim to understand how this town worked. She’d left of her own free will eight years ago, hot for a degree from the University of Texas that would mean she could chart her own destiny in the urban oasis of Austin. She’d met Cole, gotten engaged, had the world at her feet.
Or at least that was how she’d sold it to herself. In reality, she’d been running from the crushing responsibility that had fallen on her after her parents’ death. Not only had she been the one who looked out for her two younger sisters, sometimes she had to take care of Serenity too, who had gladly provided a home for three orphans but had no clue how to be a mother or manage adult responsibilities some days.
Then Ember had gotten pregnant. It was a testament to how out of control everything had gotten, a slap in the face. Too much. She’d fled.
And here Havana was, back in Superstition Springs with no husband, no job, and a mountain of guilt over leaving her sisters and Serenity to fend for themselves. Only to find out her aunt had set the entire town against her because she couldn’t listen long enough to see that she and Damian were offering hope. Not change for the sake of change. Or for the sake of pulling the rug out from under people. But Serenity wouldn’t even consider Havana’s plans because they involved knocking down a few old buildings that were barely standing as it was.
Sometimes progress required sacrifice. A lesson Havana had learned well.
Crossing his arms, Caleb leaned on the corner of Ruby’s, staring down his nose at her as if he had all the time in the world for her fit of bad temper. “Seems like you tracked me down quick enough.”
She actually flinched. “What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t come looking for you.”
“Right. It’s a coincidence that you showed up at the diner a mere fifteen minutes after I got here.”
