She pretended to pause and think about that, then said, “Right. I could see where that would get old. Ordering from an extensive menu and having one of the world’s best executive chefs in a world-renowned Vegas resort hotel whip something up, then having it delivered to your door, and, oh, right, no cleanup, either.” She patted him on the arm. “I don’t know how you managed.”
He smiled. “It’s a trying existence.”
He resumed putting things on the conveyor belt, but Kirby was left thinking about his life. He was a professional poker player, which essentially translated to professional gambler. It was funny, but she’d always kind of pictured gamblers as either a seedy, desperate bunch, spending their days and nights in smoke-filled rooms, never knowing if the sun was shining or the stars were out, drinking too much, losing too much. Or the opposite, with flashy bordering on tasteless fashion choices, overly groomed hair, too much jewelry, expensive dental work, and at least two surgically enhanced companions hanging on their arm at all time.
Both were the extreme cliches and she should be embarrassed by thinking like that, because, clearly, Brett Hennessey with his fine cashmere sweaters and well-maintained cuticles was hardly seedy or trashy-flashy. Actually, he was more college professorial than anything else. She hid a private grin. Yeah, if there was such a thing as a really hot, Harley-riding professor.
Still, it made her wonder what it was really like, to be a high roller, to live like that. Although technically she supposed high rollers were men who had made their fortunes in other realms and simply enjoyed the luxury of risking gambling huge chunks of it away whenever the whim struck them. Men who made huge fortunes usually were risk takers, so she could see the draw.
But that wasn’t Brett, either. He did it for his livelihood. What must that be like? According to Thad, Brett was very successful, so it was doubtful he was scrabbling to keep a roof over his head these days, especially if that wad of bills was anything to go by. But he had to have started somewhere. And where was that, she wondered? What led a person to that career path?
“Kirby?”
She blinked and looked up to find their purchases bagged, paid for, and back in the cart. “Oh. Sorry, my mind was drifting there.”
Brett and the check-out guy both smiled indulgently, but only Brett’s expression was tinged with a little something else. He knew where her train of thought had gone. She sighed inwardly. So much for keeping their respective jobs off the conversational table. If she was going to spend continued time with him, then there were things she was curious about, wanted to know. She’d just have to find a way to make him understand that whatever money he did or didn’t have, wasn’t of any interest to her.
He was. All of what he was. Or wasn’t.
Chapter 10
Brett stirred the simmering sauce, but his mind wasn’t on whether or not he needed more basil or oregano. His mind was on the woman presently on the phone in her office. He hadn’t been thinking, when he’d invited Kirby to go to the store with him, about her small town, the folks in it, and what they might have to say to her stepping out with her only guest. Not that hitting the grocery store together was like a candlelit dinner for two, but why would she be shopping for the ingredients for one with a paying guest if that wasn’t her intention?
No, all he’d been thinking about was spending more time with her before she latched on to whatever grip she was clearly looking for and stopped spending time with him. He was her source of income at the moment, and he hadn’t discounted that she might be willing to play tagalong for that reason alone. But what had happened right over there next to the fridge, and in her shower, made him think otherwise.
Plus, she was too straightforward for that kind of subterfuge. She was such a refreshing change from the life he’d led, one that demanded straight faces and a lot of bluffing. He didn’t think Kirby was capable of pulling a bluff. Everything she was thinking was out there to see. Good and bad. And, in the store, he could tell that she’d felt a bit put on the spot, having to figure out how to play off their joint venture. He wished he’d planned things a bit better…but his thoughts had been on getting her on the back of his bike-and wrapped around him. He didn’t want to put her in a bad spot…but he didn’t want her finding excuses for walking away just yet, either.
But where the bike had been a great idea…the store, and the folks in it, not as much. On the bike ride back she’d kept things more chaste. And before he could set her up next to him with a cutting board and a good chopping knife, the phone had started going off and she’d had to go take what was presumably a business call. She’d disappeared into her office shortly after answering the phone. Which was where she’d been ever since.
Hiding? Or taking a particularly difficult call?
He turned the pan down to simmer and thought maybe he’d go find out, when his own cell phone hummed on the clip on his belt.
There was only one person who’d be calling him. He checked the read-out anyway and smiled before answering it. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“That’s what I was calling to find out,” Dan said. “You on radio silence? Something up?”
“Not in the way you mean,” he said, thinking he’d been more up in the past twenty-four hours than he’d been in the past twenty-four years. “I was going to call you later this evening. How is everything out there?”
“Fine, good. You all done with the Brett Hennessey USA tour? Coming home anytime soon?”
“I-I’m not sure. That’s what I stopped here to figure out.”
“And here is exactly where?”
“Pennydash, Vermont.”
Dan chuckled. “Right. Because you suddenly had a craving for snow and wanted to learn to ski, desert boy?”
“I hope not,” he said with a chuckle. “There’s no snow here. It’s a warm winter in New England.”
“Ah.” Dan paused, then said, “So, what’s her name, then?”
That caught Brett off guard and he took a moment too long to respond. Not that he knew what he’d have said. And not that he wouldn’t tell Dan about her, just…he hadn’t figured out what he was thinking about her just yet.
Dan hooted. “Wow. And the best bluffer in the world can’t even pull off a simple denial. She must be something.”
Brett fought a brief internal battle, then said, “She definitely is that.”
There was another moment of silence, then Dan said, “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“I haven’t kidded about anything now in quite some time. If you didn’t really want to know, you shouldn’t have-”
“Whoa. No, I want to know. Everything, actually.” There was a short whistle, followed by another laugh, only this one sounded kind of stunned.
“Is it so impossible to believe?” Brett asked, both amused and a little surprised.
“That a woman would go for you? No. Assuming she’s breathing, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. That you noticed? Yeah, that surprises me.”
Now Brett smiled. “It was hard not to notice.”
“That hot, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“How did you meet her?”
“She…kind of fell right into my lap.”
“They have those kinda places in Pennydash, do they?”
“Very funny.”
When he didn’t add anything else, Dan sighed. “I want details and you’re not going to give them to me, are you? My closest buddy finally trips over his own heart…or some body part anyway, and I get nada.”
“When I figure things out, you’ll be the first to know. So, listen, how are things otherwise? Your dad good? Vanetta okay? Did you get the buy-in numbers for me on the Omaha series?”
“I’ll let you change the subject, but be forewarned, we’ll be circling back.”
Brett smiled briefly. He and Dan had always shared everything with each other. Dan was both best friend and
