Page 45 of Winter Vows

“Nice to meet you, Dylan. I hope to see you again before you go.”

“Count on it,” Dylan said, regarding him speculatively.

Trish dragged her brother out of the store. “Where’s your car?”

“Across the street. Where’s yours?”

“At the ranch. Hardy drove me in.”

He waited until after they were in his sports utility vehicle before he glanced over at her and asked idly, “So what’s going on between you and the cowboy?”

She seized on the label, rather than answering him directly. “How do you know he’s a cowboy?”

“He told me. He said this work for you is just some temporary gig his boss set up.”

“Exactly.”

“Now that that’s out of the way, why don’t you tell me what’s going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing,” she said flatly.

“Look, Patricia Ann, you might be able to fool some people with the innocent act, but not me. There were enough sparks in that room just now to light up Houston.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Okay, let’s try this another way. Why did you decide to stay in a town like Los Piños?”

“I like it here,” she said with a touch of defiance. “What is it you like?” he persisted patiently.

The persistence and the patience were both traits that served him well as a private eye. As a brother, they made him damned annoying.

“The people,” she said tightly. “Everyone here has been wonderful to me.”

“Including this Hardy person.”

“Yes, of course. He’s been very helpful.”

“How did you meet?”

She scowled at him. “Is this really necessary? I am not some criminal you’re cross-examining.”

“No, you’re my sister, which makes this personal. How did you meet?”

She sighed. “I was stranded on the side of the road New Year’s Eve. He came along.”

“And?”

“I was in labor,” she finally ground out. “He delivered Laura.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “Well, well, well. Isn’t that interesting? No wonder he’s so attached to your daughter. I assume he’s single.”

“An inveterate playboy,” she acknowledged, hoping the description would be enough to tell him why Hardy would never be a serious candidate for a husband.

Dylan didn’t seem convinced. “You sure about that, sis? He struck me as a solid guy. He obviously cares about you and the baby.”

“He’s been very kind. And he’s definitely a decent guy, which is why we have agreed that we will be friends and leave it at that.”

Dylan turned and stared at her as if she’d calmly announced a decision to fly off to Mars. “You’ve agreed to be friends?”

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