Chapter 6 #2
“I like her already.” Eli’s fiancée stepped around him and offered Emma her hand. “I’m Reagan and, for better or worse, I’m engaged to the jackass impinging your honor.”
Blushing, Emma stepped forward and around Eli to shake the other woman’s hand. “I’m Emmaline Graystone, but I’d love it if you’d call me Emma.”
“Pleased to meet you, Emma. Did you two stop for supper on your way here?”
“No. There wasn’t really an opportunity.
My idea of remote is a four-block hike to Chinese takeout.
Here, apparently, ‘remote’ is more than one hundred miles without the opportunity for even a vending machine.
I have some suggestions regarding that—simple ideas such as packing a snack or meal for your guests, particularly those with children.
Say, cheese, crackers and a summer sausage along with bottled water for your adults, and something like apples, smaller crackers and string cheese with a juice box for each child. ”
She fisted her hand over her stomach, and Cade’s guilt surged. He hadn’t fed her. Before he could comment, though, she smiled wide. “New York truly never sleeps, so you can get food twenty-four-seven. But at this point? I’d settle for that string cheese and juice box. I’d even beg.”
“You’re entitled to far more than a juice box after the evening you’ve had. Come on in and I’ll reheat dinner for you.” Reagan pulled Emma up the steps, calling to Cade, “You, too, cowboy. You never miss a meal, so I’d imagine you’re near to wasting away. To the kitchen, troops.”
“Reagan?” Cade said gently.
The woman paused in her efficient rounding up of humans—and her circumvention of Eli’s interrogation—to look at him.
“I would imagine, worn out as we both are, a shower before dinner would be welcomed.”
She grinned and winked at him while Eli’s back was turned. “You’re right. Emma, I’ll see you to your room and let you get showered and changed. I’ll have dinner waiting when you’re finished.”
Cade wasn’t entirely surprised to see Emma falter on the steps, so close to tripping Reagan was compelled to grab her arm and steady her. She glanced at Cade.
“We would have put you in a guest cabin,” he explained, aiming for a neutral tone, “but right now we’re waiting on the county to come out and clear the electrical and the plumbing so we can get our certificates of occupancy.”
Her lips thinned. “You don’t have your certificates of occupancy,” she said slowly. “On how many units?”
Cade bristled. “Well, if I don’t have anywhere to put you, it only makes sense that—”
“I don’t want to pick apart details as you avoid the question. Simply tell me exactly how far from ready you are for guests. I believe that will justify the temper I’m about to unleash.”
He stepped in close and bent down, going nose to nose with her. “What, exactly, do you assume we’ve been doing out here besides busting our asses to be ready for the opening date your firm suggested?”
“A date one of your people signed off on. Give me a second and I can tell you who it was,” she retorted. “I’ve got your entire file scanned and available.”
“I signed it,” Eli muttered.
The slight wisp of a woman rounded on the significantly larger man.
“Doesn’t matter whose name is on the line.
You agreed for the ranch as a whole, Mr. Covington.
Beginning tomorrow, I’ll sit down with your team to go through your contractor, vendor and supplier lists and your punch list for each.
” Eli took a deep breath, but she held up what Cade believed would quickly come to be known as The Hand of Shush.
“Both explanations and excuses are irrelevant at—” she glanced at her watch “—nearly ten o’clock at night.
If I can make a sandwich to take to my room, grab a quick shower and crawl into bed, we can start tomorrow at 7:00 a.m.”
Cade moved forward. “We usually have breakfast about an hour earlier.”
She met his gaze, all intimacy between them hidden deep enough he questioned whether or not he’d imagined the whole thing. When she finally spoke, her words were corporate-crisp. “Tomorrow? Breakfast is at seven.”
Taking her suitcases from him, she said to Reagan, “If you’ll show me to my temporary room, I’ll dump my bags and grab that shower. The sandwich may just have to wait since I wouldn’t want this kind of filth in my own kitchen.”
Reagan grinned. “Now I don’t think I’m going to like you.
I know I am.” Laughing, she took one of Emma’s bags and started into the house before Cade could protest. “I’ll put you in Eli’s old room downstairs.
There’s a bathroom attached so you can grab that shower.
I’ll make you a sandwich and leave it just inside the door on the dresser while you’re showering. That cool?”
“I might be a little in love with you.”
“Nah. You just love me for my efficiency.”
The women laughed, and Cade’s brows winged down as he watched them disappear down the hall and around the corner to the stairs, chattering all the way. “Why do I feel like I just got my ass handed to me but Reagan got a gold star?”
Eli shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “Probably because our asses were just parked on the chopping block. But Reagan played the Female Solidarity card. We can’t hang with that.”
“I guess not.” Cade shook his head. “Why’d Reagan have to put her downstairs?”
Eli rounded on him slowly. “About that...”
“I’m tired and I’m hungry. Just leave the whole thing alone.”
“I’m going to want details.”
“Said every man who suspects sex is involved in a story.” Cade ran his hands through his hair.
“Is it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Cade murmured, moving past Eli and into the house.
What Reagan had told Emma was true. There was a bathroom attached to Eli’s old room—a Jack-and-Jill type bath that was linked to another room.
His.