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Logan wasn’t shy about seizing the invitation. “I don’t know how things work in Harbor City, but that’s not done in Salvation.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “This should be amusing. What secret Salvation code did I violate?”
“Very funny. But unlike you Sweets, some of us here want to see Salvation prosper.” There, that had just the right amount of righteous indignation and pomp. He sounded like his dad. Not a comparison he normally wanted to be made, but the man wasn’t all bad.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders, her languid body language making him harder and more intractable. “I saw that map. Looks like every member of your little cabal is going to be lining their pockets.”
How had he gotten on the defensive here? Man up, dude. “There’s nothing wrong with capitalism.”
She narrowed her blue eyes, nailing him to the floor without even busting a nail. “I never said there was, but don’t pretend this deal of yours is all about altruism. You’re going to make a pretty penny off the whole thing. Or at least you would have if I hadn’t come back to town.”
“Come on, think straight.” Instead of giving into the frustration running rampant through his veins, he put his palms on her desk and leaned forward, invading her space.
She didn’t give an inch. But he grew a few. God, why did arguing with her have to be an aphrodisiac?
“You can’t possibly win the bet, Miranda.” He laid the sympathy on thick. “Sell to me now, and I’ll give you seventy-five cents on the dollar.”
“How—” She paused and tapped her steepled middle fingers against her chin “—very generous of you.”
Ignoring her not-so-subtle message, he forged ahead. “I’ll have the paperwork sent over in the morning.”
“Don’t bother.” She stood up and made her way to the door as if to dismiss him. “I’d rather lick the floor clean than sell the Sweet Salvation Brewery to you.”
“You don’t want to follow through on this bet.” He pivoted to face her but disregarded her hand on the knob of the closed office door. “I’m giving you an out that will let you save face. Come on. Prove it to the town that not all the Sweets are dumb enough to piss in the wind.”
“You’re cute. I’ll tell you what, I’ll name the first beer we take national after you.” Her pink lips curled in a sly smile. “I’m thinking Martin’s Folly has a nice ring to it.”
Logan didn’t want to take it to this level, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t—lose this bet. “Do you really want to test just how difficult I can make your life?”
Anger flashed in her eyes before she smothered it with a cool mask. “I think I can take it better this time around.”
“What does that mean?” She was the one who’d blown him off all those years ago. If anyone should be holding a grudge, it was him.
“It means do your worst. This is one bet you’re going to regret taking.” She opened her office door and ushered him out. “Don’t come back no
w, ya hear?”
Logan made it down the hall and out the door in record time. His hand was on his car door handle when someone called out his name. Glancing back, he spotted the sullen man from when he first got there hurrying across the parking lot.
“Glad I caught you.” A conspiratorial smirk curled his thin lips. “My name’s Carl, and if you need any help getting rid of her, you just let me know. No one has a better handle on the brewery—and all the things that can go wrong—than me.”
He gave Carl a long, hard look, but kept his mouth shut. No one ever said winning was easy. Sometimes a man had to get his hands dirty… And in this case? He rolled the idea around in his head but couldn’t get past the bad taste it left in his mouth. He’d flirted with the line plenty in his life, but he drew the line at something like this. Without a word, Logan got into his truck and turned the ignition, feeling like a shithead for even considering taking the other man up on the deal.
Carl rested his elbow on Logan’s open truck window. “If you want to stop her, you come find me after hours at the Spotted Pig on Route One.” He nodded and took a backwards step. “And you will. I know your type—you don’t like to lose. Neither do I.”
Good thing Logan wasn’t planning on losing.
Chapter Five
Saturday morning breakfast at The Kitchen Sink had been a Martin family tradition since his father had come out of rehab for the second time. No matter their disagreements, Logan and his dad always met up for bacon, eggs, and home fries served up sizzling on a cast-iron plate, washed down with a giant glass of orange juice on the side. The food made up for whatever the conversation lacked.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” His father shot a dirty look toward the door. “You’d think she’d have sense enough to stay away from where she’s not wanted.”
Miranda stood chatting with Ruby Sue in front of the cash register. If he’d thought she was hot while she fired daggers from her eyes at him at the bank, he’d been a fool. Watching her laugh with Ruby Sue, there was a confident lightness to her that amped up her beauty even more. The last time he’d seen her so relaxed and happy had been in the back of his truck before Mr. Cooper had found them and started the town talking. The whispers hadn’t been kind, but his father had put him on lockdown immediately. Still, he should’ve found a way to come to her defense. He dropped his gaze to the food on his plate, wishing he could eat the guilt away as easily as he had breakfast.
Right after graduation, Miranda had blazed out of town as fast as she could. He’d stayed, transforming a little bit more each day into his father. Now wasn’t that a pleasant thought?
Larry continued, “Sharlene said the Martin girl came into the bank for a loan the other day.”
