Page 10 of Sweet Deal
“The gossip mill hasn’t come around to give us all the details yet,” Jillian teased, “but he certainly is looking good.”
Rachel felt her cheeks warm inexplicably. She busied herself by examining a non-existent piece of lint on her jeans.
“Hm,” Kade mused. “I guess never say never.”
“You spent a good amount of time with him today.” Preston faced his sister. “Got anything to enlighten us?”
Rachel forced a casual shrug, avoiding looking directly at the screen. “All I know is he’s taking time off from his company.”
“Hiscompany?” Kade whistled.
“Told ya,” Jillian leaned forward, “grapevine didn’t have many details, but everyone agreed his attire cost more than most people’s monthly income.”
“Good for him.” Kade bobbed his head, not quite smiling. Not that he wasn’t probably happy for Jim, they just had a lot more important things on their mind right now. “Guess Honeysuckle is turning out its share of success stories. I saw that Blake Kirby is doing a European tour.”
“Has a new hit on the radio too,” Carson said. “Definitely living the high life.”
Rachel shifted her attention to her sister who kept surprisingly silent. In the early years of Blake’s music, Jillian followed his career closely. The first time one of his songs hit the top of the charts, the way Jillian carried on, anyone would have thought she had penned the tune, entitling her to an income. For all Rachel knew, Jillian might still have a thing for the guy, but if she did, she never said a word.
The conversation shifted back to general chit-chat and minor updates about the stock, the barn, and the lone ranch hand before Kade needed to sign off so he could give his mother a quick call before it was time for lights out. As soon as the screen went dark, Jillian let out an explosive sigh and turned directly to Rachel, a speculative, almost predatory gleam in her eye that Rachel instantly distrusted.
Heaving a deep sigh, Preston pushed to his feet. “We’ve spun our wheels long enough for one night. I vote we table this discussion until after we’ve all had a good night’s sleep.”
Garret nodded. “Maybe I’ll play the lotto tomorrow.”
Everyone knew he was joking, but somehow, Rachel wasn’t sure that it might not be a good idea. At least she could afford the price of one ticket.
The room emptied, but Jillian remained in her seat, swirling a glass of Ginger Ale in front of her.
“Coming?” Rachel stood by her sister’s chair.
“I’m thinking.” Her sister’s gaze lifted to meet hers. “What about Jim?”
“What about him?” She did her best to feign ignorance, but she knew exactly where her sister was going with this.
“He’s single. He’s handsome. He’s home. And did I mention he’s single?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He lives in California. He has a business in California. He will probably visit for a bit, get his fill of West Texas dust, and then remember why he left in the first place and run home to his closet full of Italian loafers and tailored apparel.”
“Or,” Jill stood, “in the name of friendship, he might be willing to help us out. Y’all were awfully close once upon a time.” She took a few steps and stopped by the open door. “At least think about it.”
Her sister disappeared into the hallway and Rachel was left standing, her mind reeling, her jaw hanging open, and her palms starting to sweat. Could Jillian’s lame idea actually work?
The low rumble of conversation, punctuated by the clink of ice in glasses and the soft thwack of cards hitting the felt-topped table, was a familiar sound. Jim nursed a lukewarm beer he didn’t really want and tried to focus on the hand he’d just been dealt. Useless. Just like his concentration had been since leaving Rachel earlier that afternoon.
His brother, Mark, had practically dragged him out of their parents’ house after dinner. “Come on, Jim,” he’d insisted. “Wednesday night poker game at Bill’s garage. Best way to reconnect with the guys, hear the real local news.”
So here he was, surrounded by faces he’d known most of his life—ranchers, small business owners, guys who had stayed while he’d chased success elsewhere. The conversation flowed easily around him—complaints about the price of feed, praise for the high school quarterback’s performance this season, speculation about the Friday night’s upcoming game. It was the comfortable rhythm of small-town life he hadn’t realized he missed.
“I’m in.” Jim tossed a chip in the pot.
Mark gave him a sideways glance. “You already anted up.”
“Oh.” He chuckled. “Guess it’s been a long day.” Long didn’t begin to cover it. Seeing Rachel again, spending hours just talking and laughing like no time had passed… if he thought he was confused when he walked out of that oceanside restaurant having broken his engagement to a woman he had no business marrying, he was even more confused now.
His brother eyed him a moment longer before nodding. “How was your afternoon with Rachel?”
“Rachel?” Bill looked up from his cards. “You saw her today?”
