She agreed with her brothers when it came to preserving their town, but she’d always thought about it in the abstract. She’d never connected IG with a flesh and blood man, let alone someone who would take an extra helping of her mama’s cooking.
It seemed her brothers had taken her mother’s lecture to heart. They ate quietly, eyes full of angst they couldn’t discharge. Before long, the silence became unnerving, so Brenne took it upon herself to carry on the conversation. “Which cookie did you choose?”
Gavin looked up at her, a quick grin filling his face. “I didn’t. I got a pecan square instead.”
A slow smile spread over her face. He might be the enemy, but he’s amusing as all get out.
“Rosalyn is quite a baker,” Lou said, not quite able to make eye contact. Brenne gave her a little nod. Her sister-in-law was shy by nature, and in a situation like this, the fact that she felt safe to talk was encouraging. Lou continued, this time looking the billionaire in the eye. “Her shop is one of the most popular in this corner of the state.”
“I can see why. I’m sure in a year she’ll be expanding, likely to a second location, maybe a third.”
Lou’s eyes widened, and Brenne squeezed the napkin in her lap in surprise. He talks about it like it’s a foregone conclusion. This man has every intention of building a headquarters here, and from the sound of things, there’s nothing we can do to persuade him otherwise.
The sound of a scrape filled the air as Jameson pushed his chair back and stood. He dropped his napkin on his plate and walked out of the room. Gavin didn’t blink an eye.
Brenne’s appetite evaporated, and she wasn’t alone in her feeling. Peyton made a valiant effort to revive things by talking about San Francisco. Gavin had built IG from the ground up in the city by the bay, so the conversation puttered along discussing restaurants and boutiques and the other elite they’d interacted with.
At last the plates were collected, the dinner mercifully coming to a close. Brenne followed Mama May’s directive to help her in the kitchen, relieved to get out of the fray. When Evan told me he’d met a mysterious stranger, I bet he wasn’t expecting this. The dinner had a surreal quality that wasn’t easy to shake.
“What do you think of our guest?” her mother asked as they cleaned plates in the sink.
“I don’t know what to think. It’s kinda like having the president over for dinner.” Brenne shrugged. “At least he liked the chicken.”
“Of course he liked my chicken, girl,” Mama May said, irritated. “It’s the best dang chicken in five counties. Money can’t buy chicken like that.”
“I know, Mama,” Brenne said, struggling not to laugh. “I’m just saying, it coulda been worse.”
“I suppose you’re right,” her mother begrudgingly agreed. “I want to make a good impression on this man, seein’ as how he might be attempting to buy us out at some point. The longer we can keep things civil, the better.”
What her mother said made sense, and Brenne couldn’t fault her. “I think we’re in the clear.”
“I ain’t so sure. You got some stubborn brothers who sometimes can’t see how stupid they’re acting. I’m gonna need your help to make up for them.”
“What do you mean?” Brenne felt a trickle of unease. Her mother was the smartest woman she knew, but she was also more manipulative than most. If she got an idea in her head, she was damn sure gonna see it through to fruition. I guess she’s no different than old Gavin Jeffries.
“Take him for a walk. Show him the ranch.”
Brenne was startled. “What? You want me to go walkin’ with Mister Jeffries?”
“Girl, don’t start with the lip. You gonna help or not?” Her mother turned to face her, hands on her wide hips.
“If a walk is all you want, then sure, I’ll take him around the farm.” She wiped her hands on a towel, wondering how her day had turned into this. Brenne left the kitchen, entering the long hall that ran down the center of the house. She could hear voices in the sitting room, so she made her way there.
Peyton and Sadie were pointing out MacAllen family members in the photos that hung on the wall across from the windows. Lilah sat on the sofa, Luke on her knee. The boy gurgled happily, waving his chubby hands at Brenne as she entered. She waved back, fixing her nephew with a smile.
She bent down and ruffled the boy’s cheek while speaking in a near whisper to his mother. “Where are the menfolk?”
“Likely giving Evan a tongue-lashing somewhere,” she replied.
Brenne straightened and nodded. She was probably correct. “And this is Gerald MacAllen, first generation Texas, born to Irish immigrants who staked a claim to the land we are standing on in the 1890s.”
“So the land has been in the MacAllen family for over a hundred years. That’s impressive.” Brenne could tell from Gavin’s voice that he was telling the truth.
“That means you can understand why everyone is treating you like the fox in the hen house,” she said, coming up next to him.
He looked in her direction, a smile flirting with his features. “I have to admit, I was surprised at the dinner invitation.”
“Then you might be even more surprised at the invitation to take in the night air. Care for a stroll? I could show you some of the ranch. It’s impressive, I promise.”
Gavin hooked out his arm in her direction and she stuck hers through it. They made their way out of the house and into the night. It was past dusk, but there was enough moonlight to see the way to the barn, their first stop.
Brenne flicked on the light long enough to locate an old gas lantern, figuring it would add to the over-the-top ambience. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing out here. Mama sent me to distract a billionaire from how angry my brothers are that he’s going to destroy the town. Only he seems less of a villain and more just a man.
That thought allowed her to relax. She knew men. Any girl with seven brothers would. All she had to do was challenge him a little to work him up, then stroke his ego a little to calm him back down. At least, that was what worked on the MacAllen men.
Brenne was about to discover that Gavin Jeffries didn’t think like a MacAllen.
Lantern in hand, she led him down the trail toward the bunkhouse, figuring they’d circle around it, check out the lake, hit the stables, then head back. It was a loop she’d done many times. But tonight wouldn’t be one of them.
“What’s that?” Gavin asked, pointing in the direction of a long, low building not far from the barn.
“That’s the poultry house. We keep chickens, both for eggs and meat.”
“Can we get a little closer? I once had an engineer tell me offices were like henhouses.” He started off across the field without waiting for her.
She stood frozen for a second, taking in his words. “I think he meant that metaphorically,” she called after him, then followed. Where did this man come from?
Gavin stood before one of the windows that lined the outbuilding, stooping to peer through the metal mesh that covered it. Brenne could hear the soft clucking noises the birds were making inside their house.
“I suppose those do resemble cubicles,” he remarked, indicating the roosts built along the walls. “Then there is the common area in the middle, a place to gather around the watercooler so to speak.”