No Turning Back Read Free Page B

father’s past but how it put him and his brothers in the position of backtracking and explaining, of begging people for a chance, pissed Declan off the most.
    “I’m not my father. And my mother is off-limits unless you want to explain your trespassing to the police.”
    Leah gnawed on her lower lip. “Admittedly, I don’t know much about your mother.”
    He mentally gave Leah credit for leaving the avenue of attack so fast, but since she wasn’t backing down from her claims, he kept his guard in place. “No kidding.”
    For a second, everything on the property went silent except for the soft rustle of wind through the leaves and the squeak of Leah’s shoe where it rubbed against the rotting wood of the bottom porch step. The warm sun beat down on them, but neither of them moved.
    She finally blinked. “Sell me the house and move on. I’ll pay you a fair price.”
    Years of training helped him school his reaction. Surprise bolted through him. He hadn’t seen that coming at all.
    “Why are you so desperate for me to leave?” And why did that make him so desperate to stay?
    “If I can be frank—”
    “Were you doing something else before now?”
    “The Hanover name makes people around here twitchy.”
    “And you’re the town’s goodwill ambassador, sent to run me off the property and save everyone from seeing me?” He said it as a joke but feared it might be true.
    “My exact title is Head of Business Affairs.”
    She kept zigging and had him mentally racing to catch up. “What the hell does that mean?”
    “I handle some marketing and other issues for the town.” The wind caught her blouse and whipped it around her slim frame.
    “Like welcoming new homeowners? If so, you might want to work on your skills.” He saw a flash of flat tan stomach before she smoothed the material back down with her hand. He secretly hoped for a sudden windstorm, which proved how sick he was. The spunky redhead hated him, and here he was wondering if every inch of her was tan or just the obvious parts.
    She stared at her white sneakers. Kicked and pushed the loose driveway gravel until she formed a small pile in front of her. When she glanced up again, some of the fire had left her eyes. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy.”
    “Con man.”
    Her body stilled except for her head, which popped up. “What?”
    “You called me a con man earlier.” He’d heard the accusation so many times, from so many sources, all of them angry and looking for revenge or compensation, that he learned to shove back. Joining the Army young had been both a way to escape the whispers and a needed setting where he could learn to control his frustration and fight back when it was warranted and wouldn’t get him arrested.
    “To be exact, I said your father was a con man.”
    The conversation was burned into Declan’s brain. “Actually, you said—”
    “Okay, I get it.” She held up her hand. The way her cheeks puffed in and out, she kind of looked like she wanted to slap him. “We can agree not to like each other on a personal level because this is a business discussion.”
    “I like you just fine.” He shrugged. “Sure, you strike me as a little too judgmental for someone your age, which is what, mid-twenties?”
    Her hand fell back to her side. “I . . . what does—”
    “Exactly.” He had her sputtering. At last he had some control over the conversation. “But we can work through that. I’m thinking the prickly thing you do is mostly surface, possibly more of an act than a reality, and underneath you’re . . . well, let’s go with potentially charming. I’ll hope that’s true.”
    If her eyes got any bigger they might pop. “What are you talking about?”
    “I don’t dislike you.”
    “Why?”
    Good question
. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m trying to, but I can’t seem to muster it.”
    Which was true. Her voice had played in his head during his blow-off-steam drive after the diner. She didn’t say