Back Where She Belongs(10)

“More confident. Like you know what you want...and how to get it.”

“I do. I do know what I want.” Her tone made his mind go straight to sex. He caught the flare of it in her eyes, too.

They watched each other. He remembered them together—the heat, the love, the hurt and loss. It flowed through him in a rush. He thought he saw something similar in her eyes.

A hummingbird suddenly darted between them, wings shivering, flashing metallic green and gold in the light.

“You think they remember us? The birds?” Tara asked. “How long do hummingbirds live?”

“No idea,” he said, caught up in the pleasure of being with her again.

“I think I recognize that one. See that little fleck of black on his chest.”

“Yeah?”

“He probably wonders why we’re doing so much talking,” she said softly.

They’d spent hours making out on the chaise where she sat. One push and she’d be on her back and he’d be on top of her.

At her father’s funeral? Really?

“I’d offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I think there’s probably a couple dollars’ worth in there,” she said, sexual interest blurring the bright blue of her eyes.

“At least,” he said.

The hummingbird zipped away, breaking the tension, and they both watched it go.

“I wanted to thank you for getting the auditorium for the funeral,” she said. “I know you went to some trouble.”

“I used the town’s cultural exchange fund to bus the band competition to another school. We were supposed to bring in a Balinese dance troupe, but they canceled their tour. A band competition is cultural, right?”

“In this town, you bet.” She glanced at him. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He knew she despised Wharton. Small town, small minds, she used to say. She likely despised him for staying, for settling. She’d said so when they broke up, calling him a coward, afraid of the world, using his father as an excuse to hide from life.

“You needed every seat in the auditorium,” he said to change the subject.

“Of course. The funeral was mandatory attendance for Wharton employees, no doubt.”

“That’s pretty cynical.”

“Old habits die hard.” She grabbed her glass and gulped it down, blowing out a breath, clearly upset, her eyes wet—from emotion or the liquor, he couldn’t tell. “It’s confusing. My mom tells me everyone loved my father, but he wasn’t exactly Mr. Warm and Fuzzy. He was respected, I’m sure. Maybe feared. He could be fierce. I remember that.”

Dylan shrugged. He’d hated how coldly Tara’s parents had treated her. Her father barely acknowledged her, her mother did nothing but criticize, and that was long before she started raising hell.

Growing up like that, it was no surprise she was hypersensitive to rejection. At least he’d known his parents loved him.

“I couldn’t believe the mayor saying all that about the hundreds of turkeys he donated and the pancake breakfasts on New Year’s Day and all the charity crap. It sounded like a campaign speech.”

“It was all true. Your father funded the day care at Wharton. He’s been on the school board. He paid for the playground in the park. Both your parents have done a lot for the town. Your mother’s a tireless fund-raiser for—”

“Please.” She raised her hand. “Don’t hype my parents to me. Don’t.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t you dare tell a soul I broke down,” she said.

He hated to see her in pain like this. He put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Tara. It’s me.” His voice was rough with emotion.

The tears slid down her cheeks and her face crumpled. “I didn’t expect to miss him so much, you know.”

“He was your father, for all his flaws.”

She nodded. “I guess I had this fantasy that one day we’d have a real heart-to-heart and he would tell me that he was proud of me, that he knew all along that I would be a success.”

His heart went out to her. She’d left Wharton to prove herself to her parents, the town and, most of all, herself.

“Too late now,” she said. She grabbed the tequila bottle, crashing it into her glass in her hurry to pour.

“Tequila’s got a slow fuse, remember?”

“You’re right.” She set the bottle down. “I don’t drink much anymore. Not like high school, for sure. You used to look out for me.”

“I did.”

“What an uptight pain in the ass you were.” But she was smiling. She would pretend to resent his concern, but there’d been relief in her eyes. He cared about her. That was the point. Even now he felt the urge to protect her, look after her.

She pushed the glass of tequila away, watching the birds dip and flit. “I’m sure Abbott was proud of you,” he said to be kind.

She shot him a look. “Please. I doubt he knew what I do for a living.”

Wouldn’t surprise me. “Human resources, right? You opened your own consulting firm?”

“Corporate culture. Heard of it?”

“Of course.”

“Really?”

“You don’t believe me?” She was talking down to him, as she had in the hospital, amazed that he worked for the town, as if he were an ignorant hick. “I have a business degree, Tara. I did an accelerated online program for working professionals. At Ryland Engineering, I’m the business manager. Second in command.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

She seemed honestly sorry, so he gave her an out. “That stands to reason. You haven’t been back in...years.”

“I have a life and a business,” she snapped.

“I know that. I didn’t mean to say—”

“That I’m a selfish brat who abandoned her family?”

“Right. And I’m sure you weren’t implying that I’m a clueless rube whose world ends at the town limits.” Joe Banes had nothing on them when it came to edgy.

“Sorry. I guess I’m sensitive about that.”

“I guess I am, too.”

“So you manage your father and Wharton. That’s a tall order. Your father’s impossible and my family owns the town.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he said, irritated that she was still mocking him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. We chose different paths, but we both got what we wanted, right?”

“Right.” He could see in her eyes she didn’t quite buy it. Her views about Wharton were entrenched, as burned into her soul as their time together was in his. She would never see his life—or the town—the way he did. He wasn’t about to tell her his development plan. She’d never stop mocking him.

The silence hung, tension humming in the air between them like the wings of the birds zipping from flower to flower before them.

Finally Tara sighed. When she spoke, her tone was conciliatory. “The contract between the two companies, our fathers making peace... You did that, didn’t you? I don’t see either of them backing down.”

“Yes, I did.”

“How’d you manage it?” She looked straight at him, blue eyes digging in. She really wanted to know.

“To start with, when the lawsuit failed, I convinced Dad to reopen Ryland Engineering. That got him moving forward. I tracked what Wharton was up to through engineers who used to work for us and made sure we moved in a direction that dovetailed with Wharton’s ventures. We had parts Wharton needed at the right price, so it all came together.”

“It wasn’t that simple. Not with our fathers’ attitudes.”

“They both wanted to make peace. I just gave them a way that made business sense and let them keep their pride.”

“You’re being modest. I know what you faced. The hardest part of working out conflicts between employee groups is restoring trust. You did an amazing thing.” Her gaze held respect.

“It was important to me to repair the rift between them. I knew it would restore my father’s faith in himself.” It felt good to have his achievement recognized by the one person who truly knew the people involved. He’d love to talk about his next steps—leaving the company, building up the town—but it wasn’t worth the risk. Deep wounds stayed tender and he didn’t trust her not to jab at him again.

“So that’s me,” he said. “What about you? How’s your business going?”

“Reasonably well for eighteen months on my own. In this economy, corporations see consultants as a luxury, so I have to prove that what I do impacts the bottom line.”

“I’m sure you’re convincing.”

“I have to be. My survival depends on it.” He liked the fire in her eyes, the determination in her voice. He’d bet she was a formidable force on the job.