Twins For The Rancher. Trish Milburn

Twins For The Rancher - Trish  Milburn


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by my sister to tell you that our mom is a big fan of your show.”

      “I appreciate that. Are you a fan?” For some reason, she couldn’t resist the teasing question.

      He placed one of the old chairs next to the growing collection of furniture she needed to get out of the way. “I’m just going to be honest here and say that before today I didn’t even know who you were.”

      She caught the look of concern on his face, as if maybe he’d just shot a giant hole in his chances to land her business. Even seeing that, she couldn’t help but laugh.

      “I can’t say that I’m surprised. I wouldn’t peg you as the main demographic.”

      “If it helps, I do like baked goods. I don’t think I’ve ever said no to pie, cake or cookies.”

      She pointed at him. “And that’s what keeps me in business, the country’s collective sweet tooth.”

      Without direction, Adam rolled an old salad bar toward the rest of the castoffs. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but if you’re known for baking—”

      “Why a barbecue restaurant?”

      “Yeah.”

      “My grandfather has won more blue ribbons than I can count in barbecue competitions. I want to feature his recipe. He’s actually the reason I’m here.” She gestured toward their surroundings, glancing up at the high ceiling with the log beams that she imagined gleaming after a good cleaning and polish. “He grew up in Blue Falls.”

      “I wonder if my parents know him.”

      “Probably not. He left about fifty years ago.”

      “Has he moved back?”

      She shook her head. Not unless you counted the fact he was camped out at their hotel babysitting while she worked.

      “No, and yet he somehow convinced me that this was the place to launch the next phase of my business.”

      “Blue Falls is a good place to settle.”

      “I won’t be living here, either,” she said. “I’ll just be here to get this place up and running, then I’ll leave it in a manager’s hands and go back home.”

      “Which is where?”

      That felt a little too personal to reveal to a man she’d just met.

      “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

      Settling for a compromise answer, she said, “North Texas.”

      Lauren realized when they picked up the next table to move it that it was the last one. “So, have you been helping me haul all this stuff in the hopes I’ll award you a contract?”

      “No, ma’am. Just being neighborly.”

      He seemed genuine with that answer, but she wasn’t sure she totally bought it. Or maybe she was just extra cautious now, having been so recently burned in a very public way. She wondered if Adam Hartley knew about that. She found herself hoping not, and hated the idea that her recent troubles were what sprang to mind when people saw her now. Maybe if he hadn’t known who she was before today, he didn’t know all the ugly backstory, either. That would be refreshing.

      “Okay, neighbor, I could use a suggestion of who to call to make all this stuff disappear.” She pointed toward the pile of furniture they’d moved. It was still serviceable but not at all like what she had in mind for her restaurant.

      “Actually, I know someone who would probably love to take if off your hands at no cost. She repurposes things other people don’t want anymore.”

      “Sounds great.”

      He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his contacts until he found what he was looking for, then extended the phone to her. She added Ella Bryant’s name and number to her own phone before returning his to him.

      “Well, I best get out of your hair,” he said as he slid the phone back into his pocket.

      “Are you kidding? You helped me make up for all the time I lost this morning.”

      “Glad to help, ma’am.”

      “Lauren, please.”

      “It was nice talking with you, Lauren. I look forward to hearing from you about that sample.”

      As he walked toward the front door, she thought that if she was any other single woman who’d had any other recent past than the one that she’d just experienced over the past eighteen months, she might want a sample all right. A sampling of Adam Hartley.

      * * *

      ADAM HURRIED ACROSS the parking lot of what had until this morning been his dream purchase. Well, he supposed it was still technically a dream, but one that wasn’t going to come true. But maybe he could still salvage something positive from the unexpected turn of events. Though he didn’t have any sort of commitment of her business, he thought the meeting with Lauren had gone pretty well. He’d even managed not to allow his instant attraction to her show. At least he hoped it hadn’t. Now he just needed to get out of sight of the restaurant before she noticed he’d arrived on foot. It wouldn’t speak to his professionalism and the success of his company that he didn’t even have a running vehicle to drive.

      Thinking about his damaged truck brought to mind the fact that he’d almost beaten Tim Wainwright to the punch this time. It was as if the man had spies all over Central Texas, feeding him advance information about potential customers. Judging by the number of accounts Adam had lost to the man, he’d wager Wainwright’s commission income was quite a tidy sum. Enough to make him cocky. The times they’d crossed paths, Wainwright acted friendly but it was in that way that said without words that he knew he was always going to win the day. He really hadn’t changed that much since his days as quarterback at Jones-Bennett High, one of Blue Falls High’s biggest rivals.

      Adam’s jaw tensed just thinking about the guy’s smug look if Carrington Beef convinced Lauren to go with their products. That commission alone would probably send Wainwright on some Caribbean vacation. He likely didn’t have a family ranch he was trying to take to the next level, to save for future generations. The idea of Lauren doing business with him stuck in Adam’s craw.

      Though their initial meeting had gone well, Adam felt as if he needed to do something more to bring Lauren over to his side. But he couldn’t be pushy, wouldn’t put on a practiced smile and say whatever necessary to garner her business. There had to be a happy medium. He just had to figure out what that was, and quickly.

      His stomach let out a growl that would make a grizzly jealous. Thankfully the sound had held off until he was out of earshot of Lauren. Before he texted some member of his family for a ride home, he aimed to settle the ravenous beast. Lunch at the Primrose Café would be a perfect solution. Maybe while he downed the daily special, some tremendous idea for guaranteeing Lauren went with Rocking Horse Ranch beef would occur to him.

      At the sound of an approaching vehicle, he moved farther onto the side of the road. When the car slowed and stopped next to him, he looked over and saw Lauren staring back at him. She looked confused, probably because she hadn’t passed any disabled vehicles between her building and him.

      “Need a ride?”

      “I’m good, thanks.”

      As if to negate his words, a rumble of thunder picked that moment to accompany the overcast skies.

      “I wouldn’t be very neighborly if I let you get drenched, would I?”

      With a sigh, he opened the passenger-side door and slipped inside the car just as the first raindrops fell.

      “Thanks.”

      “No problem. Where to?” Thank goodness she didn’t ask him why he’d been hoofing it down the shoulder of the road.

      “Primrose Café, downtown.”

      “They


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