When he grew up, he’d live like this.
When he grew up, he’d give his mother a beautiful palace, just like this.
Troy suddenly became aware that Taylor was looking at him, and waiting, patiently for him to finish.
He looked into her face, and saw her eyes and her interest and she was interested in hearing what he had to say. Not because he was a Sheenan. Not because he was rich. But interested in what he thought, and felt.
What he knew.
Who he was.
Something inside him shifted. He felt some of the tension he’d been carrying around with him ease. He smiled wryly. “The hotel needed to be saved. It’s part of me and Marietta and it was supposed to be demolished. The building had been condemned, and I couldn’t let it happen. So I didn’t.”
Her gaze held his, her expression intent. “Do you regret saving it?”
“No.”
“Even if it... hurts you... financially?”
“Jane’s been talking.”
Taylor pursed her lips. She appeared to choose her words carefully. “The whole town’s been talking.”
“Not surprised. But I have good instincts. I think it’s going to be alright.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Because even if I have to sell it at some point, and even if I take a loss, I’ve still won. I’ve given something back to my hometown. I’ve created something that my children and grandchildren can enjoy. And that makes it all worth it.”
Taylor looked down at her plate, and blinked, fighting the most ridiculous urge to cry. Her eyes had burned and turned gritty as he’d talked about creating something for his children and grandchildren. She understood his love for old buildings and the past. She’d always been fascinated by old black and white photographs of Montana’s past. If she looked hard enough into one of those photographs she could imagine herself there...
“I wish I could have seen the Graff before you restored it,” she said. “But maybe it’s good that I didn’t. It would have made me sad.”
“She was too beautiful to be neglected like that,” he agreed.
For a long moment Taylor said nothing, her emotions turbulent, her thoughts whirling. She shouldn’t say what she was so tempted to say. She shouldn’t even be feeling what she’d been feeling all night.
She should get her purse and coat and go home right now.
Right now without saying a single thing about the Ball. Or maybe, possibly going to the Ball with him.
She couldn’t. She’d already told him no. She’d made up her mind. Taylor wasn’t flighty. At least, she’d never been flighty before...
Taylor swallowed hard and reached for her leather satchel. She needed to leave before she said something she might regret.
And yet her heart raced. She couldn’t remember when she last felt so torn.
“I’m glad we did this,” she said. “It was nice. Thank you.”
“I enjoyed it, too.”
She pulled the satchel onto her lap, and reached for her wallet.
He saw her open the wallet and shook his head. “I’ve got this.”
“It’s not a date,” she answered.
He smiled. “I know. But I can write it off. It’s probably harder for you.”
“That’s true. There is no budget at the library for meals or entertainment. Not even for technology.”
Troy placed several twenties on the table. “Which will change when Margaret’s gone in June.”
“I hope so.” Taylor glanced from the bills to Troy’s chest, where the snug Henley hit, just beneath his collarbone, exposing taut tone muscle and golden skin. He was obviously able to get some sun in California. Lucky man.
And then suddenly before she even knew she’d committed to the idea, she blurted, “Troy, I was thinking about the Ball.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been working very hard on the committee.”
“I meant. I was thinking about...” Her voice faded. Her courage faded. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t put herself back out there. It was too embarrassing. And she shouldn’t be going to the Ball. She’d already told both Jane and Troy that. To change her mind now showed lack of stability and judgment. Besides, he might have already found a date.
That stopped her cold.
She studied him, taking in his straight nose, the high cheekbones and his firm mobile mouth quirking in a half-smile. He was so masculine and relaxed... so confident.
She was not.
She’d never had his self-assurance. “Were you able to find a date?” she asked, thinking it was one thing to talk books and technology and historical renovation with him. It was another to discuss... dates. “I was certain you would. Just wanted to be sure. I hate to think I’ve left you in the lurch.”