“We both know I’m not that bad. Anyway, I knew threatening to hire another efficiency expert would get you.” She pulled back from the bear hug.
“True.” Natalie gave the office a less-than-approving perusal and pushed her thick framed glasses back into place. “Is it all as bad as this?”
“You should have seen the place before I cleaned it.” She laughed at her sister’s horrified expression. “Come on, let me give you a tour and get you up to speed on our progress.”
After showing off the newly clean and only slightly in-need-of-repair brewery, they ended up back in the front office where, behind closed doors, she paced from one end to the other while catching her sister up on the latest curve ball tossed their way.
“So, I have to get back and claim that promotion before someone else takes it, but that’s not going to happen until we make the brewery profitable. And we can’t do that until they can get enough local bars and restaurants to carry the beer. Of course, we’d have to be able to deliver the beer, which is pretty damn hard to load onto the delivery trucks without a proper loading dock that could stand up to scrutiny from code inspectors. And I’d bet Ruby Sue’s pecan pie recipe that Logan Martin is behind our inability to hire a qualified contractor.”
“The bastard.”
And he was, but still…her stomach did a weird fluttery thing. “He’s not all bad.”
“Are we talking about the same Logan Martin? How can you say that after what he did to you?”
“Number one, I was an active participant in that incident. I didn’t accidentally fall buck naked into the back of his truck only to have him trip and land with his dick in me.”
“Why you did, I have no idea.”
“Because I thought…well, I thought he was different from the rest of the people in this town. I was young, dumb, and thought I was in love. “ She rolled her eyes as Natalie clutched her pearls.
“Miranda—”
She cut her sister off. “Number two, it happened almost ten years ago. I lost my virginity, and when the gossips in town found out, they couldn’t let it go. It was like I’d stolen their prince from them.” Natalie opened her mouth to argue, but Miranda cut her off. “Can’t we just let it go? Do we really have to continue the Sweet family tradition of holding onto grudges as tight as if they were winning Lotto tickets?”
Natalie’s hard look softened. “There was more to it than just that, and you know it.”
Miranda flipped off her sister to cover the truth of her sister’s observation. There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to contradict her not about how she felt then…or now.
“Did you talk to Neland yet?” Natalie asked.
She stopped mid-step and slapped her palm to her forehead. “Of course, but he’s off the grid.”
Neland was the best unlicensed, and mostly sober, contractor in Salvation. Best of all, he was a Sweet in everything but name, having married and divorced two Sweet sisters within the span of five years, which had always added an extra layer of awkwardness to family gatherings. After the divorces, the aunts had met and married a set of identical twins and moved to Tennessee. Still, even with the divorces, there was no way he’d be kowtowing to any Martin blackballing.
“I saw his truck in The Kitchen Sink’s parking lot as I was coming in. Go catch him before he heads out to his deer stand for the weekend.”
Miranda gave her sister a quick hug. “You’re okay hanging out here?”
“I do co-own the place.” Natalie straightened her pale pink cardigan, brushing away an imaginary piece of lint. “Anyway, I want to do some poking around so I can start formulating an efficiency plan.”
“You’re the best.” Miranda grabbed her navy blue trench coat and hustled out the door, mentally creating a to-do list of repairs that Neland could do now that he’d popped back up on the Salvation radar. Finally, things were going her way.
Chapter Eight
“Where. Is. He?”
Logan jerked his gaze up from the safety deposit box at the sound of Miranda’s voice as it bounced around the metal walls of the bank vault. Adrenaline ricocheted through his system. Judging by the vehemence with which she’d spit out the words, he’d give her a ten on the Richter scale. He’d known she’d show up eventually, but the wait and uncertainty of exactly when had driven him nuts. Logan’s life had been all about certainty and well-developed plans until Miranda had returned to Salvation. Now he couldn’t silence the nagging doubt that he might not win the most important bet he’d ever made.
Everyone in town had heard about the brewery’s dock collapsing. It had been the perfect time to dissuade local contractors from working with Miranda, throwing up one more st
umbling block in her path. He’d wondered how long it would take for her to show up mad as a wet cat with her claws out. His heartbeat kicked into high gear. From a war-of-wills perspective only, not because he couldn’t stop thinking about the way her blue eyes darkened when she was challenged or because he looked for her honey brown waves every time he left his house. This was strictly business.
Dude, you are delusional.
By the time he’d made it to the thick door leading into the safety deposit vault, Miranda stood with her hands on her full hips, staring daggers at his secretary.
He’d always thought of himself as primarily an ass man. However, Miranda Sweet had proven him wrong because her long legs encased in tight jeans and dark brown riding boots were enough to make a Catholic sprint to confession. Add in the way her chest was heaving and how her honey brown hair had gone wild in a way that begged a man to run his fingers through the mass of waves, and she was a wet dream—albeit an angry one. And somehow, that made it even better.