It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) (17 page)

A man who had swooped into town and managed to strip just about everything from her that mattered. Her independence as a business owner, her independence as a woman, her independence as a mother figure to Jamie.

She fought off the sting in her eyes. Because Talmadge wasn’t doing any of those things to hurt her. He was doing them to help. It would be so much easier if she had a reason to hate him. Instead, everything he did stole another piece of her heart until she was afraid there would be none left by the time he left Red River.

“He’s a hard worker.” Talmadge hesitated, studied her for a second. “Like you.”

Her cheeks heated. “When you grow up poor you have two choices. You can either stay poor, or try to work your way out of it.”

Talmadge took a pull from his frosty mug. “How come you didn’t go to college? You were smart enough. You skipped a grade, right? And you were always on the honor roll.”

Miranda blinked. “You remember that?”

“I do.”

Talmadge had acted as though she didn’t exist in high school. She didn’t think he even knew her name back then.

“I did take some business classes.” She stopped. Didn’t know if she should continue. A scar on the lacquered table became incredibly fascinating.

“So what happened?”

“I quit because I wanted to finish raising Jamie. He needed me.”

Talmadge frowned, and Miranda understood why. The pride Bea had carried for her grandson’s accomplishments glowed in her aging voice every time she and Miranda spoke. His grandparents probably would’ve moved heaven and earth to see him finish college.

At that moment, overwhelming loss nearly suffocated Miranda. Her old friend was gone, Talmadge would soon leave, and Jamie was on his way out too.

“Is that why you stayed in Red River?” Talmadge asked.

She nodded, drawing in a weighted breath. “As soon as I could move out on my own I did. No way was I leaving Jamie behind. He was just a kid.”

Talmadge’s expression blanked.

Miranda doubted he could understand the world she grew up in. Even though his grandparents hadn’t been wealthy, they’d done well enough to keep food in the pantry. And Miranda would bet the lights always worked when Talmadge flipped a switch.

“At least here in Red River I had a steady job and an inexpensive apartment over Lorenda’s garage. I didn’t have legal custody or the money to hire an attorney to try to get it. Staying here was easier. By the time he started college, I’d become friends with Bea and she kept bringing up the inn.” Miranda followed a deep scar in the table with her thumbnail. “I figured I had Joe and Lorenda and Lorenda’s entire family as friends, so staying in Red River was my best option.”

“My father was difficult too.” Talmadge’s eyes dulled with sadness. “I was lucky to have my grandparents after my parents were killed.”

He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. The warmth spread up her arm and wrapped around her heart because it felt so . . . safe.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have the same.” He caressed the top of her hand with a callused thumb, and the contrast of his roughened fingers against hers made her skin prickle. “But I’m glad you and Bea had each other the last few years. Every week when I called her she’d talk about you. Your friendship meant a lot to her.”

Miranda swallowed. Stared down at his large, rugged hand engulfing hers. “She was like a mom to me. Encouraged me to do the things I never thought I could do, like becoming my own boss. Becoming a business owner. I owed her a lot.”

“I owe
you
, Miranda. For watching out for Bea the last few years.” He stared down at their hands, too. “I should’ve come home more after my grandfather died. I regret it.”

Ah, guilt was a strong motivator. No doubt it was the reason he was still here in Red River helping Miranda. God knew he had more important things to do than stay in this little town that must seem like a joke after the life he’d lived.

He hesitated. “I have other regrets too.” His lips parted like he wanted to say something. His expression was troubled. But nothing came out and he kept staring at their hands, caressing the back of hers with his thumb. His muscled thighs slid against hers. His strokes made a quiver start right where they were touching and travel up both legs to settle in between. Finally he nodded. “I want to give something back to Red River that would make Bea proud. Both the inn and the gazebo would’ve made her happy, I think.”

He said it like he meant it from the depths of his soul. But the look on his face wasn’t all that convincing. That private pain was back, like he was harboring a Pandora’s box of secrets, and no one would ever know why.

C
hapter
F
ourteen

At the far end of Joe’s long bar, Talmadge stood behind Felix Daniels, the reporter from the
Red River Record
, while Miranda fielded questions. Joe’s was still packed, but Talmadge and Joe didn’t let anyone close enough to hear so Miranda wouldn’t feel so scrutinized. The interview was for her sake.

He’d cost his family something precious once, and the memory would haunt him forever. And he’d taken something precious from Miranda seven years ago because he didn’t know it was her first time until it was too late, and he’d felt guilty over it for years. He could never repair the damage he’d caused his family. God knows he’d tried through his career. But he could give this small gift to Miranda, have her back while she came into her own as a business owner and a respected leader in the community.

But afterward he had to get her alone and find out why the hell she’d lied to him about drinking all those years ago, and he had to do it without kissing the sense out of her.

He wasn’t entirely sure he had enough willpower left to accomplish that, because every time she’d wrapped her lips around her fork, or laughed that deep, sexy laugh when someone stopped by their table to say hi, he’d pictured her naked with nothing on but a dimpled smile. A hole had formed in his chest, because he wondered what it would be like to wake up with her tangled in his sheets every morning. The hole had formed into a crater by the end of their meal because of the warmth and friendliness between her and Joe’s patrons—people she’d served since she was fifteen.

Felix, a jovial man with a white Santa Claus beard, pink cheeks, and curly white hair that was stark against a black beret, leaned an elbow against the bar and faced Miranda. He recorded the interview with a thumb hooked underneath one side of his black suspenders.

At first, Miranda’s uncertain gaze darted over Felix’s shoulder to Talmadge before she answered, and he gave her a subtle nod and warm smile each time. Before the interview started, he’d told her to speak from the heart. He’d learned early in his career that if he spoke about the reasons his environmentally friendly designs meant so much to him, how they would affect a community, the nation, and eventually the world, that true passion would shine through and win the audience. Precisely why he’d gotten quasi-famous. The camera loved him because he was sincere and believed in what he did for a living.

So after the first few questions, she’d sat a little taller, spoke with more confidence, and instead of giving Talmadge an uncertain look like she wanted his approval or encouragement, she’d glanced at him with pride.

“Talmadge, can you join Miranda and tell us about your plans for the gazebo?” Felix asked over his shoulder.

“No, sir.” Talmadge crossed his arms over his chest. “The chairperson can answer all of your questions.”

She threw an appreciative glance at him, but their gazes locked. He loved the glint of determination that made the amber flecks in her eyes dance every time she looked at him. Every time she smiled his pants grew a little tighter, and his breaths became more labored.

Spending all evening with her in that short skirt, her nice legs and silky leggings brushing against him, and the soft sweater that dipped just enough in front to hint at what he was missing—and the boots. They weren’t high-heeled boots that said, “Take me with nothing else on
except
the boots.” The heels were low, and the leather was a little scuffed and worn, but in a way that made them look richer with age, simple and elegant, just like her.

Yeah, spending all evening with her dressed like that might have been a tad too ambitious.

Felix asked her another question, and her dimpled smile stole Talmadge’s breath as she did exactly what he’d told her to do—she spoke from the heart,
became
the heart of Red River and all that it stood for. She spoke of community, friendship, hardworking folks that a person could count on.

All the things Talmadge had tried to forget. Had left behind. All the things missing in his life.

When the interview was done, Felix clicked off a few pictures of Miranda and Joe together. “This will run in Monday’s paper.”

“Could you run a story on each fundraiser as they happen?” asked Miranda. “I’ll send you our schedule, and I’ll be at every one.”

Smart. Talmadge smiled. Free public relations and advertising for the project, and it would probably prompt more donations.

Felix scratched his beard and adjusted his beret. “Will do, Miss Miranda.”

“Thanks, Felix. You’ll be by the inn next week with the camera crew to start filming the renovations?” Talmadge asked.

“Will do that too.” They shook hands. Felix gathered up his recorder and camera and lumbered off to find a table.

With the dinner hour over, Joe cranked the C-and-W music and the dance floor filled.

Miranda grabbed her purse and slung it over a shoulder.

Talmadge eased onto the barstool that Felix had just vacated. “You did great. You’re a natural.”

Her hair was up in one of those knots with just enough messiness to look sexy. Loose pieces framed her face and hung in soft ringlets around her neck. She gave him a smile that slayed him on the spot.

“Thanks. You were right. I thought of what the inn means to me, and Bea, and . . .”

She pulled her lip between her teeth, her gaze gliding over his face. For a second he hoped she was going to say that she thought of what
he
meant to her. The thought surprised him, and he tried to control his quickening breaths.

“And well, I just thought of how lucky I am to have a chance to do something with my life. Not everybody gets a chance like that.” Her eyes still wandered over him, landing on his mouth. “Thank you.”

He tried not to notice how the weight of the purse made her winter-white sweater dip even further in front. Tried not to notice how sweet the swell of her breasts looked. He’d seen them once, seven years ago. They were spectacular, and he wanted to see them again. Touch them. Taste them.

And for a moment, they just stared at each other. Her plump lips parted. Her cheeks pinked.

His pants got tighter.

“Hey.” Cooper Wells and Doc Holloway, Red River’s chiropractor and medical doctor, interrupted the moment. “You’re looking pretty comfortable with that shoulder,” Coop said.

Talmadge nodded. “It’s much better. I’m doing the exercises several times a day. Thanks, Coop.”

“Great fundraiser,” Doc Holloway said to Miranda, then turned to Talmadge. “We’re heading over to my place for a guys’ poker night while our wives are having a girls’ night out.” He pointed to a booth against the right wall of Joe’s where Angelique, Ella Wells, and Lorenda occupied a booth. “Want to join in?”

“Uh.” He’d rather spend time with Miranda, and they still needed to have that talk. “I’m Miranda’s ride.”

She hopped off the barstool. “Don’t miss out on a good poker game on my account.” She nodded to the booth where her friends sat. “I’m joining the mommy mafia for some girl time while you no-accounts swill beer, beat your chests, and lose hard-earned money.” She slugged Doc Holloway on the shoulder and hurried over to join the ladies, that mouthwatering sashay in her hips.

That was the first time he’d seen her in a skirt except for seven years ago at Lorenda’s wedding. A crying-ass shame because those legs were too perfect to hide, and he’d really like to have them wrapped around his waist.

Coop cleared his throat, and Talmadge’s gaze left Miranda’s silky legs and strutting ass and snapped to the good chiropractor.

“So how ’bout it, Talmadge? You up for some poker?” Coop asked.

He glanced at Miranda. “Maybe some other time, guys. I’m going to hang out here with Uncle Joe and see if I can keep the momentum of the fundraiser going.”

And if he was lucky, he might still be able to get Miranda alone to have that talk.

Spending time with the girls might help ease the sting of her ebbing willpower. After Talmadge successfully maneuvered her through the obstacle course of leadership roles, project organization, interviews, and renovations, she was having a hard time remembering why she shouldn’t climb all over him and enjoy the physical benefits he could offer while he was still in town.

She had to give him credit. Everything he’d done had been calculated and planned to keep up the public illusion that she was in charge. But they both knew the truth. She’d failed at the one thing she needed to do for herself—make the inn a success on her own without depending on a man.

A faster country song kicked up, and flashes of boots, hats, and jeans whirled past as Miranda slid into the booth and sat next to Lorenda.

“We tried to order.” Lorenda pointed to the frosty mugs of beer on the table. “But Joe’s new waitress messed it up, and she hasn’t been back to fix it.” Lorenda took a long drink. She was the only one at the table who could have alcohol.

“Seriously.” Ella stared at Lorenda’s beer with longing. “Who messes up water with a wedge of lemon? Everyone knows Miranda doesn’t drink alcohol.”

Yes, dammit. Even Talmadge knew, and it was obvious by his earlier expression that he wasn’t going to let it go.

“It’s a little hard to miss that I’m nursing.” Ella pointed to her considerable bustline and absently fingered the ends of her long red hair like she was rethinking the whole nursing thing. “And that Angelique here is expecting.”

“What I wouldn’t give for a beer right now,” Angelique said. “Some ladies’-night-out crowd we are.” She rubbed her expanding tummy. “Right now, my idea of letting my hair down and getting wild is watching all three
Hangover
movies back-to-back on DVD.”

“At least Bradley Cooper takes his shirt off.” Lorenda swilled her beer.

Angelique raised an eyebrow. “Precisely why I watch ’em.”

Miranda pointed to both Ella and Angelique. “You two don’t have anything to complain about. You’ve got husbands who look as good as any movie star. I don’t.”

“That could change,” said Ella.

“When you least expect it.” Angelique pointed to the bar, and all four of them turned to look.

A thrill coasted through Miranda at the thought of Talmadge changing her world in the marital sense. He’d changed it in every other way, but that way was impossible.

He lounged at the bar, his faded jeans and white linen shirt fitting his purely male build to perfection. Really, the man could make a pair of Dickey coveralls look slick. His canvas hiking boots looked just as natural on him as the expensive Italian shoes he sometimes wore. The way he moved back and forth between the world of a simple, hardworking guy who tromped around jobsites in boots and jeans, and the world of movie stars, architectural magazine cover shoots, and red-carpet fundraisers for his projects with the ease of a chameleon was fascinatingly sexy.

With an easy, hometown boy smile, he propped a foot against the footrest and an elbow on the bar. Joe ambled over and claimed the seat next to Talmadge. Dylan McCoy, Joe’s grandson and Talmadge’s cousin, slid a beer in front of both of them, then hustled to fill orders behind the bar. Talmadge didn’t look around the large, bustling room. He slid one look over his shoulder straight at her, and their gazes locked.

Blood thundered through Miranda’s veins.

His mouth didn’t curve into a smile, and a mixture of conflicting emotions flashed in his metallic eyes. The connection they had. The familiarity. The distance. The unrequited desire.

“Oh, do him already.” Lorenda was obviously drinking the others’ share of alcohol. “Or someone else in this town will.”

“No!” Angelique hollered. “Doing him might lead to this.” She pointed to her growing belly. “And that will lead to labor and delivery.” She shuddered. So did Ella and Lorenda.

“
You
do him.” Miranda glowered at Lorenda, the only other single gal at the table. “Besides, how do you guys know I haven’t already?”

Ella laughed. “Girlfriend, we’d know.”

Right. They would. Angelique and Ella’s love affairs with their husbands had rocked the sleepy little town of Red River and been fodder for gossip until they both got married and everyone moved on to a new story.