me to dinner tonight?”
“No, there isn’t. By the way, while you’re here, two of my brothers want to meet you. They saw you on TV today, and one of them has read your last book.”
“Well, I’m happy to discuss my book with anyone who is interested,” she replied. “So my book is why they want to meet me?”
“Not altogether,” Wyatt replied. “It’s part of the reason. I imagine every man in Verity would like to meet you. And maybe every male over fifteen in the next four or five counties,” he said.
“I take it your brothers are single.”
“One is widowed and the other is my single, youngest brother, so you’re right. Nick lost his pregnant wife. He’s still hurting pretty badly. It’s been a rough time for him and he’s not dating anyone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, startled about the loss in Wyatt’s family. “I don’t think Desirée knew that.”
“There’s no reason for her to keep up with Nick, and that hadn’t happened when she was here.”
Destiny gazed out the window, taken aback once again by seeing a more serious side to Wyatt. Now that she was getting to know him a little, she wanted to be more up-front with him and thought about the right moment to reveal her genealogy. “Well, I, for one, have been curious about you. There aren’t many men who can upset my sister.”
“I’m sorry if I did, but I don’t think it was devastating since she was married within the year—I believe her first marriage. In the three years since we dated, isn’t this marriage number two? I don’t think she’s been pining away over me.”
“Perhaps not. It’s too bad. Now that I’ve met you, I imagine you would have had a settling influence on her. A sheriff, rock solid, mid-America, a Texan. How the two of you got together in the first place, I can’t imagine,” she added. “You don’t look the type to be knocked off your feet simply because she’s a movie star.”
“You have that much right,” he said, smiling again. “Look again at your sister. She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. You’re one of the most stunning. And she flirts outrageously, which I’m sure you already know.”
“Thank you. My sister is beautiful. She’s been beautiful from the day she was born.” After a moment of silence, Destiny turned to him. “You were rather laid-back today. Do you ever get upset, Sheriff?”
“Sure, when things get bad enough. Most of the time in Verity, there’s nothing bad enough.”
“So my reporting about the Wrenville house murders isn’t bad enough to get you riled up?”
“Not so far,” he said. “Maybe your quest is annoying, but not critical. We’ll see as time goes by.”
She saw that the buildings on Main Street had given way to houses. Heading east, they passed two blocks of wooden Victorian-style homes, some single story, some two or three stories with tall trees that had thick trunks in what looked like an old part of town.
“We have passed most of Verity’s restaurants. Where are we going?”
“To the airport. We’ll fly to Dallas to eat. You have no objection to that, do you?”
“Of course not,” she said. “So you’ll avoid the press for the rest of the night.”
“I sure hope so,” he replied, “and I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.”
“If it did, I don’t think you’d turn around and go back,” she said, amused. “So the sheriff of Verity has his own plane. Interesting.”
“Actually, it’s mutually owned by me and my siblings. We all have ranches and want to be able to come and go, so we bought two planes and hired pilots and the necessary employees. I have my own pilot’s license, as do my brothers Nick and Tony. It’s worked out great.”
“Nice, if you can afford it.” She looked out at the passing scenery. “I recall we came into town this way so we should be passing the Wrenville house. There it is,” she said, looking at a wooden three-story home surrounded by a three-foot wrought-iron fence and a front gate hanging on one hinge. She noticed several of the windows had been broken out.
“Just an old, empty house that the town will own shortly,” Wyatt said. “Nothing exciting there. And there can’t be any clues in it about the three men who died there.”
“You don’t discourage me. It’s more interesting than that.” Destiny said, taking in the weeds and high grass that filled the yard while the two tall oaks by the house were overgrown with vines. “No, I’m excited, filled with curiosity. Sometimes it’s surprising what my show stirs up. Maybe someone will come forth with information that has been passed down through the generations. A Milan and a Calhoun both in love with the same woman and both shot dead over her, along with her father—that’s an interesting unsolved mystery. You have to admit it.”
“Interesting to an outsider, I suppose, but we don’t need the old feud stirred up. As generations pass it has weakened and with my generation, I think the feud is dying. I want it to die. We’re a quiet little town. I don’t want to see that disturbed needlessly.”
“A quiet little town with a high percentage of millionaires,” she said. She realized she had never known anyone as protective of his hometown and his family and she had to respect Wyatt for that.
“West Texas is good cattle and oil country, plus a few other businesses that have done well here,” he replied.
In minutes he turned along a narrow asphalt road and shortly she saw two hangars and a control tower ahead. A jet was outside and she assumed it would be the plane they would take to Dallas.
Wyatt picked up his phone to talk to his pilot, letting him know they were almost there, and she tingled with anticipation, looking forward to an evening with Wyatt Milan. She wondered what he would think when he learned she was a Calhoun. He acted as if he thought the old feud should die, but she barely knew him. When it involved him personally, would he still think the feud should end? Mimi had painted such a dark picture of the Milans as dishonest, crafty and manipulative that Destiny had expected a man far different from the Milan she was getting to know tonight. None of those descriptions fit Wyatt. Far from it. Honest, straightforward, hoping for good—he embodied admirable qualities. She loved Mimi and they were close, but her grandmother was wrong about this Milan.
Her gaze lowered to his mouth. Strong, firm, his lips made her wonder if he would kiss her tonight. The chemistry between them was exciting. She felt it, and she was certain he did, too. Could she kiss him into agreeing to an interview?
As they reached the plane, Wyatt stopped near a brown-haired man with touches of gray in his hair. He smiled at Destiny.
“Destiny, meet our pilot, Jason Whittaker. Jason, this is Ms. Jones from Chicago.”
“It’s Destiny,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m happy to meet you and looking forward to the flight.”
“Unsolved Mysteries,” Jason said and Destiny’s smile broadened. Wyatt watched her step forward and charm his pilot who could not take his gaze from her. Wyatt could understand. She’d stolen his breath when she had appeared at the top of the stairs at the hotel. The woman knew how to make a grand entrance. Every man in the hotel lobby had been watching her and Wyatt had heard an audible sigh from several who were standing near him when she appeared. She wasn’t the delicate, perfect beauty her sister was. Instead, she was hot, sexual, lush, with a voluptuous body, a come-hither look and unruly red hair that looked as if she had just left a romp in bed. How was he going to keep denying her an interview or discouraging her from the Wrenville house? She left him tongue-tied, on fire, unable to think clearly, torn between wanting to seduce her and hoping