Somehow they were on different tracks. “No,” Lang said, “I didn’t meet anyone but Heddy. I meant Heddy wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Her mother wasn’t around and didn’t come up.”
Lang wasn’t sure if he’d misunderstood his grandmother because of the way she’d asked the questions or if it was just that he had Heddy Hanrahan on the brain. Because despite the fact that his hands had been full with Carter, his head had been full of Heddy Hanrahan since meeting her.
Thoughts of her had been creeping up on him every time he turned around. Thoughts and images of her. Of that lush red hair—not carrot-colored at all, but a deep, dark, rich mahogany red. Beautiful. She had beautiful hair. Wavy and thick.
And it wasn’t only her hair that had had him sneaking peeks of her when he should have been keeping closer tabs on Carter—which was how Carter had ended up with cheesecake in his hair in the first place. Heddy Hanrahan also had the most flawless peaches-and-cream skin he’d ever seen, and luminous hazel eyes with bright green flecks.
Plus she had a face that was as delicate as fine china: a gently curved brow; high, pronounced cheekbones; a thin, straight nose; and a mouth that sported such pink kissable lips….
Not that he’d had any thought of kissing her, for crying out loud, because he hadn’t. He was just trying to do business with her, to compensate her and maybe the rest of her family, for what had happened to them years ago.
Okay, so he’d also taken enough of a look at her compact little body to know it was great, too—with curves in all the right places—but that didn’t mean he’d itched to touch her.
Although yeah, maybe a little part of him had. But it didn’t mean anything.
“Heddy Hanrahan didn’t mention her mother at all?” GiGi’s voice pulled him out of the reverie he’d slipped into.
“No,” Lang answered in a hurry, hoping he didn’t seem dazed. “We only talked business. You said you couldn’t find an obituary for her mother, so she must be around somewhere, but she didn’t come up.” Then something occurred to him that rocked him. “Heddy Hanrahan couldn’t be my half sister, could she?”
“Don’t be silly,” GiGi chastised. “The article said she was thirty. It’s been thirty-six years since Mitchum was involved with her mother. I was just hoping to hear that her mother was still happily married to her father and had had a good life after what went on with your dad.”
A good life after what went on …
That was what they hoped for in all of these cases— to discover that the people burned by dealing with the Camdens in the past had gone on to bigger and better things and not suffered long-term negative effects.
“So she’s pretty, is she?” GiGi said then.
“Beautiful,” Lang said, putting it out front so GiGi couldn’t think it made any difference to him. “Why? Would we not be offering her this deal if she was homely as hell?”
GiGi smiled a smile that irked him because it seemed to say that she saw through him. But she was wrong. He wasn’t interested in Heddy Hanrahan the woman. He might not agree with his family’s assessment that he’d closed himself off, but he certainly had enough on his hands right now without adding romance or a relationship or even another one-night stand.
Although he really, really would like to see that rust-colored hair down….
But he was always sort of a sucker for a redhead, so that didn’t mean anything, either.
He didn’t want to talk any more about Heddy Hanrahan or her looks with his grandmother, though, so he raised his chin in the direction that Jonah had taken Carter and shouted, “Carter! Come on, we need to get home!” Then, wanting to give his grandmother a little of what she’d dished out, he said to GiGi, “We’d better get going so you can have your evening alone with your old high school squeeze. Seems like he might as well move in, he’s here so much.”
“It’s in discussion,” GiGi said.
“Really …” Lang countered with raised eyebrows. “Is that why you won’t babysit for me? You’re too busy getting busy with—”
“I am not going to talk about that with my grandson!” GiGi said with a laugh, echoing what he’d said to her earlier about one-night stands.
“Ooo-hoo, GiGi’s gettin’ busy …” Lang teased. And he actually thought his grandmother’s ordinarily pink cheeks might have turned a shade pinker.
Sliding out of the breakfast nook, he went around to the other side where GiGi was sitting and leaned close to her ear. “It better be more substantial than a one-night stand,” he goaded playfully before he kissed her on the cheek.
She swatted his arm and said just as playfully, “Mind your manners!”
No chance. Lang decided to be incorrigible. “Shall I have a talk with him? Make sure his intentions are honorable?”
“What makes you think mine are?”
Lang laughed and straightened. He did love the old bird even if she had taken him to task tonight.
“Come on, Carter,” he shouted again just before Jonah Morrison herded the toddler back into the kitchen. “Let’s go. We have to pick up some dinner so we can eat fast and get you a bath and wash your hair. I’m thinking pizza tonight.”
“Wis ‘napple!” Carter contributed.
“Only on your part. I don’t like pineapple on my pizza.”
“Look how good you’re getting—you knew what he was saying,” GiGi praised.
Lang merely rolled his eyes and shook his head before he put on Carter’s coat and they all went to the front door.
“Let me know what happens tomorrow with the beautiful Heddy Hanrahan,” GiGi called after him as he led Carter out, clearly getting Lang back with a jab of her own.
“I will,” he answered just before he hoisted Carter into his car seat.
But the mere mention of Heddy was all it took for the picture of her to pop back into his head—and there was no denying that she was beautiful.
It just didn’t have anything to do with anything.
And neither did the small feeling of eagerness that ran through him at the thought of seeing her again tomorrow.
Because while he would never admit it to his grandmother or any of the rest of his family, even if he didn’t have learning to be a father to Carter on his plate right now, he wasn’t ready to let another woman in.
Not even one with red hair.
And he wasn’t sure he ever would be….
“I’ve gone over your books backward and forward, Heddy, and I wish I could tell you something else. But the honest, ugly truth is that you’ve been open for fifteen months and this shop is not making it.”
Heddy had called her cousin Clair on Monday night after closing up to tell her about the visit from Lang Camden. Clair was a certified public accountant and she did Heddy’s books as a favor to Heddy. Now, late on Wednesday afternoon, Clair had showed up with those books to present to Heddy on paper how her business was going under.
“You used the lion’s share of Daniel’s life insurance money to start the business,” Clair continued. “You’ve had to draw on the rest for working and living expenses because you haven’t made a profit a single month since you opened last year, so what’s left is just about gone. Is there any reason to think you’ll have a turnaround and business will pick up?”
“I hoped that the article would do it but it hasn’t. So no,” Heddy admitted.
“Then I say take the deal from the Camdens,” Clair concluded.