At least he was asking. He'd never opened the door to discussion before, just shut her down.
But then hadn't she done the same?
Now was her chance. "By relocating you're creating a manmade, imitation version of something that already exists in nature. Why not leave nature alone?"
He scooped up a spoonful of the crème brulee. "I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on the word imitation."
"You say you care about the animals and environment by relocating the wetlands." Frustration elbowed its way into her good mood. She set her spoon down and tried another approach to help him see her side of things. "In order to save animals, I needed the best facility and location possible, which you blocked. Legal and ethical aren't always the same."
He quirked an eyebrow. "You landed on your feet. The animals are cared for. I made sure of that."
"What?"
"I made sure the piece of land you ultimately built on was affordable."
She wasn't quite sure what to do with that piece of information. She rubbed a finger along the rim of her crystal goblet. "Are you saying you offered up a diversion so I would back away from the property you wanted?"
"Do we have to rehash this now?" He tempted her with another spoonful of his caramel custard dessert.
"I think we do." She took the spoon from him, licked it clean and set it down. "I would have been closer to Evie the day of the tornado if the shelter had been built where the original plan called for."
"Fine." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't make business decisions based on personal convenience and be successful."
"I understand that. Obviously." She searched his eyes for a sign of easing, but his expression was inscrutable. "But you also shouldn't pull your heart and humanity out of your job."
His eyes narrowed and chin tipped up as he reached to skim her hair over her shoulder, his hand lingering to stroke the sensitive spot behind her ear. "How can I make you get over that grudge?"
"I'm not sure. Show me you've changed...." She struggled to think, tough as hell to do with his touch enticing her to just sink into his arms again. "Or convince me you didn't do anything wrong."
"Megan," he said, exasperation dripping from that one word. Then he kissed her in an obvious attempt to distract her. "You're trying to pick a fight with me so I won't get closer. Am I wrong?"
His breath was warm along her face.
She whispered, "You're not wrong."
He nodded, then pulled back, his hand trailing along her arm. "Tell me how teaching your dog to ride a skateboard led you to become a shelter director rather than, say, a lion tamer?"
She grasped the safe topic with both hands, grateful for the reprieve. "I was always the little girl bringing home stray kittens and lost dogs. My mother was terrified I would get bitten or scratched, and looking back I can totally see her point." She shrugged. "But nothing she said stopped me-you may have noticed, but I'm very stubborn. So my mom signed me up for this thing called 'Critter Camp' at our local Humane Society. It was a summer camp for kids. We learned about animal care, animal rights, responsible ownership and yes, animal rescue."
"Sounds like a great program."
"My mom had to work overtime to pay for it." The memory pulled her under, back to those days of her mother scrimping to support her child. Megan understood the fear and weight of that responsibility well. "I didn't realize that until I was older, begging to go to the camp for the fifth year in a row. But I was hooked. I looked into the animals' eyes and they needed me. But they also saw how much I needed them. People don't always realize that they save us just as much as we save them."
"Why haven't you started a critter camp here? I'm certain it would be a huge success."
A dark smile tugged at her mouth and she dropped a hand to his knee, squeezing. "Are you sure you want the answer to that?"
"I wouldn't have asked unless I wanted to know." His hand fell to her leg, his calluses rasping along her sensitive inner thigh.
She swallowed hard and tried to think past the delicious sensation. "Lack of space because of the plot of land we had to take as the consolation prize when you blocked the purchase of our original choice."
"You said you were content with the second location." Concern creased his forehead, but his hand inched higher.
She clamped his wrist. "It's farther from the schools, which makes logistics tougher for after-school programs. There are a host of other reasons-"
"Such as?"
"We need space to enlarge the dog park, and then there's the budget." She moved his hand back to the counter. "But if you start writing checks to the shelter and offering flights for animals, while generous, that does not buy you time with me. If you want to make a donation, I'll gratefully accept as the director. But we have to keep that separate from me-Megan, the woman."
He clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. "That said, will Megan, the sexy woman, have dinner with me again?"
Another brush of his mouth along the inside of her palm made it tough for her to think, but then that was a problem even when they weren't touching. She needed time to get her head together. She needed to figure out if it was even possible to let this play out regardless of the consequences.
That wasn't something she could figure out now. "I'm helping with the town hall cleanup tomorrow afternoon while Evie naps. We can talk about it then." She slid off the barstool. "I should get dressed and go home. I have to think about all that's happened between us."
He held on to her hand. "Remember what I said about one-night stands. I don't do them."
Could she trust in those words when neither of them knew what the future held? She searched his eyes and saw he believed what he said. For now.
Somehow that only made matters more complicated. "I remember." She let go. "I'll see you tomorrow-at town hall."
Eight
The next day, Whit spent hours sifting through the rubble inside a town hall office, his buddy Aaron helping, but there was still no sign of Megan. This whole place was a lot like the mess of his life. His evening with Megan had been right on track. He'd been so certain they were making progress.
Then somehow things had derailed near the end for reasons that went a helluva lot deeper than his unused recycling bins. He still wasn't sure how they'd steered off course. It was as if they'd both self-destructed by discussing things guaranteed to drive a wedge between them.
And she still hadn't shown up for the town hall cleanup effort as they'd planned.
After their argument last night, they'd both thrown on their clothes and he'd driven her home, silence weighing between them in the dark evening streets. It was around one o'clock when they arrived, and he'd insisted on walking her to her door, where he gave her one more searing kiss. But she'd drawn the line there. She didn't want him to come inside where Abigail waited, babysitting Evie.
Work boots scuffling through dusty and crumbled brick, he took another garbage bag from Aaron. The job was too mindless to take his thoughts off Megan and what had happened last night. He trusted Abigail to keep her word to stay silent about their date until they-until Megan-was comfortable revealing the news to the town. But this had gone beyond Abigail. Given that they'd run into the Taylors at the restaurant last night, the whole town would know soon enough anyway.
As if there wasn't enough to keep everyone occupied. Like rebuilding the town.
The perimeter of town hall had been secured but there was no quick fix to all the destruction, especially inside in the few areas of the building still standing. Town hall had been almost totally destroyed. Only the clock tower had survived unscathed, but since the tornado, the time had been perpetually stopped at 4:14. The planning committee had decided to rebuild on the same location, but the cleanup effort would take time. They had to be careful sorting through the mess. Even in the digital age, there was so much damn paperwork.
Outside, Tyrone Taylor was barking orders to people as if it was his place to take charge. The guy seemed to think he ran the town. Luckily for them, Stella Daniels was there, and she had a quieter approach. A far more effective one at that. She let Tyrone bluster away and quietly followed up behind him giving direction and thanks.