Normally, Havana would love what was basically a sleepover for grownups since they were sharing a room, but she couldn’t concentrate. Mr. Hardy wanted a war? He’d get a war.
For a few minutes she’d actually bought into the idea that he’d honor the truce. Silly Havana, tricks are for other women. She shouldn’t have been so easy to fool. Nor should she have been so nice to him.
The man was trouble. In more ways than one. The look on his face when he’d first spied the springs—breathtaking. There was something really affecting about that place, and the fact that he’d experienced it at such a visceral level told her he had a depth that made her want to delve deeper.
Except she wasn’t interested in exploring a man’s depths. At all. Especially not that one. They were complete opposites, and he’d pitted himself against her shopping center, which should have killed every iota of her perplexing attraction to him. It hadn’t.
And now she was left wondering what on earth she found so compelling about him. He wasn’t her type in any way, rough around the edges where she liked her men smooth and cultured. Caleb had been in the military, had probably seen combat. She didn’t even like it when a man killed a spider, let alone other people. But then he’d left the armed forces, so maybe he’d had a change of heart?
A little mix-up with Uncle Sam , he’d said. What was it? Her curiosity was killing her but only because of the color in his voice, as if there was so much more to the story than the simple explanation he’d offered. And what if there was? It didn’t matter unless it offered her some kind of edge in the all-out war they’d declared.
And that’s what she should be concentrating on. How to beat him. Except she didn’t know a thing about his tactics. Was this battle going to be guerrilla warfare or psychological? If the former, she’d have to learn a thing or two. The latter was more her style.
Aria yawned, cutting off her endless flow of conversation that she’d never seemed to realize had been largely one-sided. “Wow, it’s late. I’ve kept you up. We can talk more in the morning.”
“That would be great.”
And she meant it too. A good night’s sleep would do her wonders and also banish Caleb Hardy from her mind. Then she could indulge in some really honest heart-to-heart talks with her sister, like in the old days. That would fix… well, not everything. But it would make Havana feel like she might actually get to a place where she didn’t constantly think about how she’d left Aria behind.
Did her sister resent Havana for leaving? She’d never asked because the answer might drive another wedge between them.
But when she woke up, Caleb had not vanished from her thoughts, and the fitful few hours of sleep she’d gotten left her more tired than when she’d gone to sleep. Aria slept like the dead and didn’t even stir when Havana slipped from the king-sized bed in her sister’s room.
A low hum of water running through the pipes in the walls filled the bathroom the moment she closed the door. Likely, Caleb was in his bathroom too on the floor below her. Maybe taking a shower. If not, he should definitely be shaving given the dark shadow of whiskers that had covered his face yesterday.
Not that she’d noticed how it gave him a daring edge that shouldn’t have been so devastating on him. Besides, she didn’t know what he looked like clean shaven. Maybe that would be worse.
After taking her own shower in the antiquated claw-foot tub that probably hadn’t even been new in the sixties when the hotel had been renovated, she spent a frightfully long time getting her makeup right. Then she surveyed her limited wardrobe choices, cursed that she hadn’t brought more clothes with her from Austin, and finally threw something on because what did it matter? She wasn’t dressing to impress anyone, least of all a man. Jeans and a T-shirt was practically the uniform of Superstition Springs, and that’s what she’d wear.
Damian came by to pick her up, and they spent the day going over the resort plans on site, ensuring they’d indeed picked the right spot, tramping around the river to view the surrounding area from all angles in case the exhaustive surveys they’d had done missed something. The entire time, she had an underlying awareness that all this work could be for naught if Caleb Hardy had his way.
The sun beat down on her, no less brutal in April than it would be later in the summer. Sheer frustration put her in a snappy mood. By five o’clock, Havana was done with being outside and wondering why she’d bothered to take a shower.
Back at the hotel, she looked for someone to soothe her frustration away, but neither Aria nor Serenity could be found. There was a handwritten note taped to the refrigerator that simply said “At Ruby’s.” The primitive communication method in a world that worshipped text messages was faintly amusing, but it worked. If she wanted to eat, and she did, she’d have to trek to the diner.
Havana jumped in the shower to scrub the sunscreen from her skin. Damian had fished the bottle from his glove compartment without comment and handed it to her, because he was a nice man who looked out for her.
If only he could be the one.
But she’d known him for two years, mostly through Cole. It would be too weird to strike up any kind of romantic relationship with her ex-fiancé’s friend, who also did nothing for her. Not even a ping when she looked at him. Shame. He was really handsome, wore a suit with an innate sense of style, and had standing reservations at all the best restaurants.
Totally her type. If she was in the market, which she was not!
Why was she even thinking about anyone’s qualifications for “the one”? There was no one. Serenity’s prediction must be getting to her. The part about meeting someone through work—why couldn’t it be Damian? She’d already stacked up the dominoes for crying out loud.
Annoyed with herself and with Damian for not getting her girl parts going and with Aria for abandoning her and definitely with Serenity for issuing that ridiculous prediction in the first place, Havana pulled on a sundress and stalked to the diner sans makeup. It would take too long to apply, and she needed a cheeseburger now, before she bit someone’s head off. Skipping lunch had been a terrible idea.
Nearly everyone in Superstition Springs had packed into Ruby’s, which wasn’t all that unusual, except ninety percent of them ringed the big corner booth, watching something. Aria and Ruby included, which nixed the idea of food since they were the only waitresses in the place.
She drew up next to her sister and murmured, “What’s going on?”
That’s when Lennie Ford, who was big enou
gh to get his own zip code, shifted aside, unblocking her view of the table. The one man she’d tried to avoid thinking about all day held center court at the booth, playing cards fanned out in one hand and his brow furrowed in concentration.
Her entire day went to blazes in a beach chair as he lifted his head. Their gazes locked, and Caleb watched her as he plucked a card out of his hand, placing it squarely on the table while several of his mates made loud noises of disgust.
He hadn’t shaved.