Tyler slid an arm around his waist and rubbed his back. “Don’t take it personally. She’s asleep on her feet and upset. Miranda will take care of her.”
Of course she would. That was never a question. But it didn’t change the fact that Cam wanted to be the one Norah turned to, who took care of her and eased the hurts.
“It’s been a shitty night all around.”
“That it has.” Mitch crossed over and pulled Cam into a thumping hug. “I’m really sorry how things turned out, cuz.”
“If there’s anything we can do,” Tucker said, “for you or for Norah, just let us know.”
Cam sighed. “It’s the end of the road for now. And late. Really flipping late. I should get home myself, let Hush out, and get my ass to bed.” And hope he actually slept with a hundred pounds of canine draped over his feet instead of warm woman curled against his chest.
Maybe by the time they both surfaced tomorrow, he’d have some idea of the right thing to say.
~*~
“You’re completely insane.” Tucker leaned back in the leather chair behind the wide wooden desk that dominated his law office. “You know that, right?”
“I’m determined,” Norah corrected. “And I’m thinking outside the box. Can you do it or not?”
“Yeah, I can do it. The bureaucratic red tape is minimal in a situation like this. The whole thing can be a done deal in ten days, as long as the title is clear. But are you sure?”
“Positive. This is important, Tucker.”
“Does Cam know about this plan?”
“No, and I’ll tell him when the time is right and not before. I’ll remind you of attorney-client privilege and the fact that I will sue your ass if you break it.”
Tucker held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not gonna break my ethical code.”
“How fast can you have the paperwork drawn up?”
“Should be ready late this afternoon. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“Put a rush on it. I don’t want to take any chances on this going awry.” Norah checked her watch. “I need to get going. I’ve got another appointment.”
“I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
As had become her habit when running errands downtown, Norah left her car and walked from Tucker’s office. Despite her bravado to Tucker, it was a relief to turn her brain from the true insanity she had just instigated to the meeting that had more than piqued her curiosity.
In the wake of the Council’s decision on the special use permit, Norah had posted an update on the coalition website and sent out a newsletter. She hadn’t asked for money, hadn’t pursued the idea of investors. But she’d made it clear that they were open to furth
er suggestions. Twenty-four hours later, she’d received a phone call from Gerald Peyton, the man who’d inadvertently inspired her rural tourism campaign. He wanted to discuss a business proposition.
Gerald rose from the lip of the fountain as she approached, and there was nothing of the lost about him today. Unlike their first chance encounter, this time Gerald was dressed in a sharply-tailored business suit, a sedate Hermes tie breaking the line of his crisp Oxford shirt, and a Burberry coat draped neatly over one arm.
Once, she’d have been dressed just as smartly, but after two months in Wishful, she’d dialed back to a more comfortable cashmere sweater and jeans. She felt hideously under-dressed. Despite her casual attire, it was easy to slip back into the skin of the consummate professional. She offered her hand. “Mr. Peyton, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Not at all. I’ve been enjoying the chance to slow down and people watch. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”
Norah angled her head in amusement. “That depends. Do you care if whatever we discuss gets passed around town along with the lunch special? Because both Dinner Belles and The Daily Grind are the town gossip hubs.”
“Fair point.” His lips curved. “I don’t mind, but you might prefer to have some time to think things over before you become additional fodder for dinnertime conversations.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “Then perhaps a walk instead?”
Gerald made an after you gesture and fell into step beside her.
“I didn’t come here looking for you the last time. You were just a reminder that got me looking back at the past. But meeting you, seeing what you’d done here, got me curious. So I looked you up. Or, as my PA would say, I Google-stalked you.”