A Small-Town Temptation. Terry Mclaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ or prying into her business affairs. There was something about the sly specificity of his questions—wrapped up in that “aw, shucks” delivery—that tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.

      She turned with a shrug. “Some,” she said.

      “Some.” His mouth turned up at one corner. “But not all.”

      “Nope.”

      Behind her, Gus sputtered through a strangled cough.

      Maguire’s grooves deepened. “Now, that’s as concise, and yet at the same time, as eloquent an answer as I think I’ve ever heard.”

      “And I imagine you’ve heard all kinds,” she said.

      That crooked smile of his seemed to tweak and tease at each of his features before coming to rest in his eyes. Quite a trick. Her stomach was knotting up so tight she wondered if she’d be able to make it back to her office without getting a cramp.

      David sauntered in through the office door. He took one look at Maguire, a second at Charlie, and his golfer’s tan faded several shades.

      Charlie narrowed her eyes. “David?”

      “David Keene?” asked Maguire, although it was obvious he already knew the answer.

      At David’s hesitant and guilty-looking acknowledgment, Maguire extended his hand. “Jack Maguire,” he announced. And then he paused and flashed yet another grin in her direction. “From Continental Construction.”

      Continental. Charlie’s mug clattered down on the counter, and coffee sloshed over the rim. Oh God oh God oh God.

      Maguire tsked at the spilled coffee as he followed David through the doorway to the back offices.

      That damn, cocky grin. The stomach-knotting trademark of the man who had appeared out of nowhere, the one who could get her juices flowing with his easy talk and his rough hands—the one who could hurt her more than any other man had ever hurt her in her life.

      The hell he could.

      Charlie snapped out of panic mode and strode down the hall after them. David’s business appointment was about to get his agenda adjusted.

      JACK TOOK ONE OF THE visitors’ chairs in David Keene’s office and crossed an ankle over a knee. He figured he had about ten seconds before David’s sister came barging in.

      Five seconds later the office door swung open so hard it bounced off the baseboard spring and closed behind her with a smack. His guess had been off. Charlie Keene moved fast when she was in a temper.

      “Don’t let me disturb you,” she said as she dragged the other chair behind David’s desk—to the administrative side of the small room—and tucked it under an anemic-looking potted palm. “Go right ahead and discuss what it was you wanted to discuss. Just ignore the co-owner in the corner.”

      She dropped into her seat and slouched with her arms folded across her nearly flat chest, a fraudulent smile thinning her lips.

      David leaned back with a sigh. “You’ll have to forgive my sister, Jack. She tends to forget her manners when she walks through that door.”

      Jack glanced at the woman glaring at him from her spot beneath the greenery. One scrawny frond brushed against her cheek, and she swatted it out of the way. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. “I’m perfectly capable of ignoring something, or someone, I’m told to ignore. Discretion is an important social skill, along with manners and the like.”

      He hadn’t thought it was possible for Charlie’s expression to get any more hostile, but he’d guessed wrong about that, too.

      He stifled a smile, figuring it would be like setting a torch to a short fuse. Except for his slight miscalculations about her temperament, so far Ms. Charlene Elizabeth Keene was living up to her reputation and his research. Which meant the rest of what he’d discovered was probably true—the lady had a clever enough brain and a strong enough back to carry most of the load at Keene Concrete.

      He knew she was after Sawyer’s ready-mix company, too, scheming to ease her competitor into an early retirement and secure her company’s future in Carnelian Cove. Jack wondered how quickly she might blast through her family complications once she learned the purpose of this visit. Soon, he hoped. He relished the challenge of a tough, resourceful adversary.

      Her brother cleared his throat, and Jack realized he’d been staring. David swiveled his chair a few degrees, attempting to cut Charlie out of the conversation. “I hope you had a nice trip north.”

      “I did at that.” Jack nodded. “Enjoyed the scenery on the way in from the airport. Nice country you’ve got around here.” That was an understatement—the views were spectacular. Massive redwoods crowding the pavement’s edge, twisted cypress hugging cliffs dashed with sea spray. Mountains carpeted in thick forests and rolling pastures dotted with fat dairy cows. Rivers so clear he was tempted to pull over and toss in a lure.

      “We like it.” David squeezed a pencil with white-knuckled fingers. “The tourists do, too. We get plenty of visitors. In the summer, when the weather gets nicer.”

      Jack nodded. “That would bring ’em out, all right.”

      Charlie shifted in her seat and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Jack had to give her points for keeping her mouth shut.

      “I’m glad you could make it up here,” said David. “I was hoping you’d be able to check out the situation for yourself.”

      “That’s why I’m here.” Jack gave him a wide smile. “To check out the situation.”

      David sketched a zigzag in one corner of his desk blotter. “I hear you stopped by Sawyer’s yard this morning.”

      “I did, yes.” Jack’s smile stayed in place. “Part of the situation, don’t you think?”

      “But not an important one,” said David. “Well, not in a…What I mean is, he’s retiring, and…” He cleared his throat again. “There won’t be any competition around here once he does. Retire, I mean.”

      “Continental’s not worried about a little competition,” said Charlie. She leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Maguire?”

      “Please,” said Jack as he leaned more comfortably against the back of his chair, “call me Jack.”

      “In fact,” said Charlie, ignoring his request, “Continental doesn’t care which ready-mix outfit it buys. BayRock or Keene Concrete—it doesn’t matter at all, not in the end. It’s a buyer’s market here in Carnelian Cove, isn’t it, Mr. Maguire?”

      Jack spread his hands. “It would sure be nice to think so, especially if a fellow were on a shopping trip.”

      David sent his sister a murderous look. “Be that as it may, I’m sure Continental will want to consider getting the best value for its money in the Cove—in the local market.”

      “The best value? The local market?” Charlie stood and shoved the palm frond out of her way. “If Continental buys Keene Concrete, Earl won’t СКАЧАТЬ