Barbara McCauley – Reese's Wild Wager (страница 2)

Miss Lady Luck had suddenly been replaced by Miss Fortune, alias Sydney Taylor. Reese glanced forlornly at the queens in his hand, sighed, then threw his cards down and swiped at the dirt on his face. Boomer jumped off the table, sat at Reese’s feet and looked up at his master expectantly. The dog’s nose was covered with damp mud.

Reese knew he should be repentant, he really did. But there was just something about Sydney. Something about that haughty, patronizing air of hers that made him want to puff up his chest and bring that cute little chin of hers down a notch or two. Reese glanced at his brothers for a little moral support, but based on the gleam of amusement in their eyes, he was obviously on his own.

Reese stood and looked down at Sydney, considered telling her that she had a slash of dirt across her temple, then thought better of it. “I’ll buy you some more flowers and bulbs.”

Folding her arms tightly, she met his gaze. “What good will it do if your dog keeps digging them up? Need I remind you that my grand opening for Le Petit Bistro is in four weeks?”

Hardly. There was very little in Bloomfield County that everybody didn’t know about everybody else, some of which was even true. Since Sydney had returned three months ago from culinary school in France, the whole town had been talking. Not about the restaurant she was planning to open as much as the reason why she’d left town over a year ago: Sydney had been left high and dry at the altar by Bobby Williams, Head Coach at Bloomfield High School. Bobby had been offered a position at NYU, only he’d neglected to mention the job to Sydney, along with the fact that he’d decided not to get married. At least, not to her. Bobby and Lorna Green, a cocktail waitress from Reese’s tavern, had eloped on their way to New York.

No one had seen Bobby or Lorna since, but there had been talk that Lorna had been looking rather plump around the middle at the time she and Bobby had taken off together.

Reese had certainly never missed Bobby; he’d never liked the egotistical jerk, anyway. But Lorna, though a little dim-witted, had been a good employee, a rare commodity these days. Especially at the moment. With one waitress out on maternity leave, another on vacation, and a new girl who was sweet but couldn’t remember what time to show up for work, the tavern had been in chaos for the past two weeks.

And now Hurricane Sydney had blown in.

Nothing I can’t handle, Reese told himself and gave her his best smile. “I’m really sorry, Syd. It won’t happen again.”

“Spare me the charm.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “I realize that works on most of the women in this town, but it’s wasted on me.”

From any other woman, Reese would have wholeheartedly risen to the challenge. But this was Sydney, for Heaven’s sake. Sydney was starched stiff as a nun’s habit. Going up against Sydney would be sort of like the Titanic taking on the iceberg. And those were icy waters he’d rather not swim in.

Except, at the moment, with her hair all rumpled, dressed in her robe and slippers, Sydney didn’t look quite so starched or quite so stiff. She looked kind of…soft. Soft and cute.

Startled by his thoughts, he looked at her again, saw the rigid lift of her shoulders and tight press of her lips. Geez, what had he been thinking? Sydney Taylor might be an attractive woman, but soft and cute? And those frumpy robe and slippers she had on were not exactly Victoria’s Secret.

“Reese Sinclair, are you listening to me?” Sydney narrowed her eyes. “I’m not leaving here until we settle this once and for all.”

“You could have him destroyed,” Callan offered from the sidelines.

Boomer jumped up and barked shrilly.

With a gasp, Sydney whirled. “I would never harm an animal.”

“Not the dog.” Callan looked offended that Sydney would think such a thing. “I meant Reese.”

The look Sydney gave Callan could have wiped out spring crops. Reese glared at his brothers. He knew they were having a good laugh at his expense. He didn’t even blame them. If the situation were reversed, he’d want a front row seat. With popcorn. But if he was going to go one-on-one with Sydney Taylor, he sure as hell didn’t want an audience. “Weren’t you all just leaving?”

“Not me.” Lucian glanced at the cards still in his hand.

“No hurry.” Gabe started to take his coat back off and Callan followed suit. “We could squeeze in a couple more rounds.”

“Game’s over.” And so’s the show. Reese snatched the cards out of Lucian’s hands, helped Gabe put his coat back on, then shoved all three of his brothers out the door and closed it behind them.

“Okay.” Reese turned and faced Sydney. “Now, where were we?”

“You were about to tell me how you intend to keep your dog inside your own yard and out of my flowers.”

“Oh. Right. Well, here’s the thing.” Reese glanced at the dog, then moved beside Sydney, lowering his voice as he bent his head close to hers. The scent of lavender mixed with something else he couldn’t identify drifted from her skin. He hesitated, not only to appreciate the smell, but because he was surprised. He’d never thought about Sydney smelling so…nice.

Brow furrowed, she frowned at him. “What thing?”

“What? Oh, well, you see, Boomer’s sensitive about being locked up. Ever since I found him out on the highway and brought him home with me, he gets depressed if I try to keep him in.”

Boomer, who heard his name and seemed to understand he was the topic of conversation, lifted his head and thumped his tail on the floor.

“Depressed?” The tilt of Sydney’s head signified her skepticism. “Maybe he requires more attention than you can give him.”

“Shoot, Boomer gets more attention than a baby with a bonnet. He just can’t stand to be fenced in. He needs to…stretch his legs a little.”

“Gabe just bought the Witherspoon house,” Sydney said matter-of-factly. “That’s five acres of farmland, surrounded by several more acres. Plenty of room for a dog to ‘stretch his legs.’ I’m sure Boomer would be extremely happy there. He can dig to his heart’s content.”

“I couldn’t do that to Boomer. He was already abandoned once when he was a pup. If I just gave him away like that, he wouldn’t understand. He’d think I deserted him.”

She stiffened, then took a step back from him and lifted cool blue eyes to his. “Like Bobby deserted me? Left me standing in my wedding dress to face a crowded church on my own, is that what you’re trying to say?”

Dammit, dammit. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all. “No, Syd, really, I—”

“Forget it, Sinclair. You think you can soften me up with that killer smile of yours and make me feel sorry for your dog, and I’ll just go away. Well, I’m not going away.” She folded her arms. “Life is just one big lark to you, isn’t it, including this bar you run.”

“Hey, now, this is a tavern, not a bar. There’s a big—”

“Maybe you think I’m being petty, or that a few chewed up flowers are irrelevant, but your lack of respect for my property is irresponsible and insensitive.”

“Hey, I’m as sensitive as the next guy,” Reese protested.

“If that next guy happens to be Bobby Williams,” Sydney said, and pointed her chin at him.

That did it. Reese clenched his jaw. He wasn’t anything like Bobby Williams. He’d had enough of Sydney’s insults for one night. He glanced at Boomer. This is the thanks I get for saving your sorry butt. He looked at the table where cards and chips were scattered.

Irresponsible, was he? Life was one big lark, huh?

Well, fine, then.

“Tell you what, Syd,” he said slowly, turning back to her. “What say we let a friendly card game settle this for us?”

Her head came up, and her brow came down. “What?”

“A card game. Go Fish, Crazy Eights. Maybe a couple hands of Old Maid?”

His jab struck home. She straightened; her eyes shot blue daggers at him. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“A game of chance to settle this once and for all. If you win, I’ll keep Boomer fenced in, and if I win…” What did he need? Something to not only shut Sydney up, but put her in her place. Think, Sinclair, what do you need?

He grinned suddenly. She’d never go for it. He knew she wouldn’t. He just wanted to see the expression on her face, wanted to see her back down from a challenge.

“…if I win,” he continued, “you have to come work at the tavern for a week. I’m short two servers right now. Wages included, of course, plus tips.”

Sydney’s jaw went slack; she was silent for all of fifteen seconds. “You expect us to settle this with a card game? That’s preposterous!”

He grinned at her. “That’s my middle name.”

“You’re serious. You’re really serious.”

“Yep.” She’d back out now, Reese thought with smug satisfaction. No way she’d go through with anything as foolhardy as this. And since he had her attention, he’d up the ante till she squeaked. “Under my direct supervision, of course. You have to do what I say.”

“What!”

“Don’t go looking so hopeful, Sydney,” Reese said, thoroughly enjoying the flush on her face. “I’m only referring to business here, though we could certainly discuss job perks and options, if you like.”

“Let me get this straight.” She blew a wisp of hair from her cheek. “If I win, you promise to take care of Boomer and keep him out of my flowers. If I lose, I have to work for you, here, for a week.”