Small-Town Hearts. Ruth Logan Herne

look on her face told him a change of subject was in order. He took the hint. “I’ve moved in and I’m grateful for the chance to be out of the motel. Since we’re in fairly close proximity—”

      Her gaze puckered, purposely.

      He chose to ignore the chagrin. “And we’re going to see one another regularly…”

      She mock-scowled, exaggerated for his benefit, a look that said, Get to the point, bud, I’ve got work to do…

      “I thought I’d ask you to please let me know if I do anything to disturb you. I don’t want to be a thorn in your side, and since my name is Daniel and not Tom, Dick or Harry—”

      A flush mounted her cheeks.

      “—I’ll do my best to stay on my side of the Great Divide. Okay?”

      She sighed, looked like she was struggling mightily to bring her feelings in line, gazed beyond him then drew her look back, reluctance shadowing the movement. “You’re my tenant. I’m your temporary landlord. You are welcome to come over here any time. I just…”

      He moved a half step closer, noting the smattering of freckles seemed darker in the midday sun, that the tendrils of gold-brown hair escaping the net were two shades lighter than the rest of her hair and that her mouth was an indescribable shade of pink.

      She bit her lip, looked up and must have read something in his eyes, because she drew a breath, pasted an easy smile of dismissal on her face and stepped back inside. “Now that we have that clear…”

      “Crystal.”

      “Absolutely. Yes.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

      “As do I.”

      “Well, then…” She sounded almost reluctant to return to her duties, which was exactly how Danny felt about returning to his. Smarter for both if they ignored their obvious attraction by maintaining some distance.

      He headed down the steps. “Nice talking with you, ladies.”

      “Right.”

      He grinned, recognizing the note of indecision in her voice, and wishing he could hear the feminine exchange slated to take place, but he had work to do. So did she.

      As he climbed into his car, he remembered how she looked in that kitchen, cheeks pink from the heat, her gorgeous hair tucked beneath the old-fashioned crocheted hairnet. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. And for some odd reason, he really didn’t want to.

      But propriety told him Megan was off-limits. He had the advantage of knowing why he was in town, of understanding how his business moves could affect her livelihood. He couldn’t take that lightly.

      Plus his parents wouldn’t take kindly to him toying with anyone’s affections. Despite his worldly experience, Danny wasn’t a player. He chose not to be, out of respect for his parents and his faith. In his travel-savvy world, that was a big difference, and while he’d fallen away from church attendance in his global wanderings, he hadn’t shrugged off the reality of a higher power, a Supreme Being. He just hoped God was the patient sort while he worked to build their candy business. Their coming Christmas catalog was crammed full of chocolate decadence. Its success would be a major step forward, a feather in his cap if it took off as he projected.

      But he should leave sweet Megan alone. She seemed like the kind of girl who deserved nothing but the best, a guy who would be home day after day, the American dream of home and family she’d talked about so openly. Danny’s job kept him in the field so much that he was rarely in any one place for too long.

      Home. The idea of starting a home had once seemed alien to him, an impossibility, one of those things that happened to other guys. And while several of his friends had married recently, several others were still footloose, and that had been fine because Danny hadn’t felt that spark, that hint of happily-ever-after possibilities.

      Until now. With a woman completely off-limits. What was the good Lord thinking?