It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) Read Free

him focus more on the woman she’d become. There for his grandmother when he wasn’t. Even hosting the wake to honor Bea’s memory and offer support to everyone at the funeral.
    Except him.
    Miranda Cruz was hard to ignore, period.
    Impossible now that he’d walked outside to enjoy a few minutes alone in the frosty mountain air and had been greeted by her black panties and a firm, round bottom that would fit nicely in the palm of his hand.
    “I mean it’s none of my business that you stopped coming to visit Bea.” Miranda plowed on, her unusual gold-brown eyes widening at her own words. “Um, I just meant she loved the dog, and she missed you.” Her teeth caressed her bottom lip.
    She turned her full attention to the shivering rat-dog, who apparently had belonged to his grandmother. Another detail in Bea’s life she’d left out, always so careful not to make him feel guilty about his infrequent visits home. Always so mindful to not seem lonesome, even though she’d obviously been lonely enough to get a dog.
    The secure, self-reliant mask Miranda had worn all day evaporated. Her free hand went to the hem of her sweater, and she tried to pull it down in the back.
    Talmadge curbed a smile. From what he’d seen, she’d need a knee-length robe to cover the gaping hole in her pants. Not that he minded the view.
    “Sure.” Talmadge let that one word hang in the air. She looked at him as though she expected more. He just gave her a lazy stare, which made her sink her straight, white teeth deep into that pink lip.
    He pointed to Lloyd. “You sure he’s not a rat? Bea didn’t see all that well the past few years.”
    “How would you know?” Miranda blurted. “I mean, you haven’t been home, so . . .” Her big brown eyes slid shut for a beat.
    He didn’t care what Miranda Cruz thought of him.
    He didn’t.
    The burning in his stomach was probably indigestion.
    “I called Bea every week.” Why the hell was he explaining himself? “And I called Uncle Joe to get insider information because Bea always said she was fine.” Bea understood how demanding and important Talmadge’s environmental projects were. How hard it was for him to come back to Red River and face the memories of his parents. How he needed to give something back to the world. She just never knew exactly why.
    Success had a price. Being an international leader in sustainable green architecture didn’t leave much time for visits to Red River. Bea never put a guilt trip on him, never made him feel like he’d deserted her. Hell, she was proud of his accomplishments.
    Yeah, he’d just keep telling himself that.
    Now that Bea was gone, he didn’t owe anyone else an explanation. “Calling was the best I could do because of all the building projects I’ve had going on.”
    Dammit.
    His free hand involuntarily went to the deep, radiating ache in his shoulder and he rubbed.
    He cursed his inability to stay off a building site and let the contractors do their jobs. But he had a financial stake in the Trinity Falls project—a big one—and letting others do all the labor wasn’t his style. He was a roll-up-your-sleeves-and-get-’er-done kind of guy. The on-site work was the fun part. Watching his designs take shape and come to life, even swinging a hammer once in a while, made his job so much more worthwhile and personal.
    The sweat of hard physical labor required to construct his environmental building projects eased the regret of all he’d destroyed in his selfish youth.
    Miranda held up a palm. “You don’t have to explain.”
    Damn straight he didn’t. “I just thought you should know that I didn’t abandon my grandmother.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
    Miranda studied the dog as though she didn’t know what to say. Well, hell. He didn’t know what to say either, now that she had firmly established what a crummy grandson he was.
    “Sorry about your arm.” She pointed to the sling. “I saw the accident on the news.”
    Who