“We realize that was a mistake.”
“Any future offer that comes with a timeline will be immediately rejected.”
“Understood,” Graham assured her.
Ally folded her hands in front of her. “That said, I’d like to talk with you about what figure might be acceptable…”
The CFS agent pulled an envelope from his pocket, and handed it to her. Inside, typed on their letterhead, was an astounding figure. One that would leave her set for a good while, job or no job…
Throughout the rest of the meal, Graham spoke with her about the benefits of a sale to Corporate Farms, and the various ways they could accommodate her to make the transition easier. Despite herself, Ally was impressed.
She knew what the impact on the community would be, should the company get a toehold in the area with the acquisition of Mesquite Ridge. And while the sentimental, compassionate side of her would not even consider such an offer, the businesswoman in her knew she would be a fool not to.
What happened to the other ranches in the area was not her responsibility. Her own future and financial security was.
And yet…
“Naturally,” Graham concluded with finesse, “although we want you to have as much time as you need, we are going to want to follow up on this…”
“And I,” an oh-so-familiar male voice said, “ would like to speak with you about your dessert options for this evening.”
Ally’s heart skipped a beat. She turned and saw the familiar red shirt, blue jeans and black Lone Star Dance Hall apron on a very fine male form. Already knowing which handsome face she was going to see, she lifted her gaze and looked up into Hank McCabe’s midnight-blue eyes.
Hank ran through the options with the finesse of a guy who had grown up waiting tables in his mama’s restaurant. “We’ve got a fine cranberry-cherry pie, as well as a chocolate peppermint torte that is out of this world. And of course, the traditional banana pudding, pecan pie and peach cobbler. You can have ice cream with all of those. Coffee, too.”
“What are you doing here?” Ally snapped. And why did he have to look so superb? She couldn’t help but note he had gone to the trouble of showering and shaving before coming in. He’d even applied the brisk, wintry aftershave she liked so much.
Hank ignored the glare he was getting from the agent, and pointed to the black change apron tied over his jeans, and the Lone Star Dance Hall badge that bore his name. His smile widened. “I’m helping out. My mom’s shorthanded tonight.”
Helping out, my foot! Ally lifted a brow in wordless dissension. It looked as if they had plenty of waitstaff, as usual. “Um-hmm,” she said.
“Good to see you have a job to fall back on, McCabe,” Graham Penderson said. “You’re going to need it, since the ranch where you house your cattle is about to be sold out from under you.”
Hank locked eyes with Penderson, all tough ex-marine and veteran cowboy.
Talk about a Renaissance man, Ally thought.
Hank smiled. “I wouldn’t count on it if I were you.”
Penderson ran a smug hand across his jaw. “I would.”
Wincing, Ally squirmed in her seat.
Given the high-stakes volatility of the situation, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see Hank forget his manners and pull Penderson out of his chair by the knot of his necktie.
But as it happened, his expression did not change-if you discounted the slight darkening of his irises. He merely stepped an inch closer. Flashed a dangerous crocodile smile. “Still waiting on that dessert order. Penderson.”
Ally swallowed. She could see this situation fast getting out of hand.
She stuffed the papers the agent had given her into her handbag and shut the clasp, then held up her hands. “Actually, I don’t think I want any dessert,” she told them both.
“I do,” Graham said. “And I want McCabe here to bring it to us, since he’s so eager to help.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ally saw Hank’s mother step out of the kitchen. Greta sized up the situation, hands on her hips. Sighed.
“Why, it’d be my pleasure,” Hank drawled. “But…” He turned with a flourish and signaled the DJ running the sound system.
The man nodded and promptly started a song by Lady Antebellum entitled “One Day You Will.”
“Well, what do you know, Ally.” Hank slid his order pad and pen back in his apron pocket. He reached down and took her hand in his, and in one smooth motion, drew back her chair and pulled her to her feet. He winked at her. “They’re playing your song. Sorry, Penderson.”
The next thing Ally knew they were on the dance floor. Hank’s left hand splayed warmly across her spine, and his right hand clasped her fingers as he two-stepped them around the floor to the strains of the romantic ballad.
Ally tried but could not stop the thrill rushing through her. “Cute, McCabe.”
He grinned, all confident male. “Like the lyrics?”
Despite her decision to remain unaffected by his chicanery, his sense of humor was contagious. “Especially the part about if I left town and never came back,” Ally retorted drolly.
He leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “Like the song says, you’d be missed.” His warm, minty breath caressed her cheek. “But if you just hang in there…and wait awhile…”
“The sun will shine again and,” Ally paraphrased, “I’ll find love and peace and the real me.”
The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. “Exactly.”
If only he knew how much she wanted to believe that. As it was, the powerful lyrics combined with the soul-stirring music were drawing her in, every bit as much as the wonderfully comforting and enticing sensation of being in his arms again. Deciding she needed to reestablish some emotional boundaries, Ally lifted her chin.
Now that he had picked her tune… “What’s your song?”
“Coming right up.” Hank again signaled the DJ. One tune segued into another.
Ally listened a moment to the lively beat, then looked down the bridge of her nose at him. “‘You Take My Troubles Away’?” Seriously!
He two-stepped her around the dance floor. “Appropriate, don’t you think?” His lips brushed her temple.
Another thrill swept through Ally. “If this is supposed to be a message for me…” she warned.
“It is.” Hank’s voice was low and hoarse. All the pent-up affection she ever could have wished for in his gaze.
Ally had spent her high school years wishing something this out-of-control exciting and romantic would happen to her. But that didn’t mean it was a good idea for Hank McCabe to go all possessive on her in the middle of a business dinner at his mother’s restaurant! Particularly after what he’d done in Dallas the day before. She blushed and attempted without much success to resurrect the protective barrier around her heart. “Everyone is looking at us.”
Hank’s arm tightened around her waist. Their thighs brushed as they moved to the beat. “That’s no surprise. You look incredibly beautiful tonight. But then…” his voice dropped another inviting notch “…you know that.”
She felt beautiful-in Hank’s arms. Ally struggled not to give in to the overwhelming emotions rising up within her. “And for the record, what on earth possessed you to pick out his-and-her songs for us?”
He shrugged and brought their clasped hands even closer to his heart. “I wanted the excuse to dance with you tonight.”
That sure had done the trick. She was here in his arms, feeling like there was no place she’d rather be.
Ally cast a look over Hank’s broad shoulder. “Penderson is livid.”
“He’ll get over it. It won’t stop Corporate Farms from making good on their latest offer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“How do you know there’s been another offer?”