The Camden Cowboy. Victoria Pade
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Another bit of negligence. Lacey wasn’t ordinarily so flustered, and she didn’t understand why she was now. She just hoped it would stop.
“I’m sorry. I’m Lacey Kincaid—”
“I’ve met Morgan Kincaid—he and I did the closing on the property he just bought from us. And Ian and Hutch Kincaid—they’ve been around town—”
“Morgan is my father. Ian and Hutch are my older brothers. I don’t know if my father told you or not, but the property he bought from you is to be used as the new training center for the Monarchs—”
“Right, your father’s football team.”
“And the project has been given to me to manage.” Lacey hadn’t intended to sound so proud of that fact, but it was such a big deal to her she couldn’t ever seem to say it without sounding pleased with herself.
“And that’s what you want to talk to me about?” he asked, handing her her jacket as he did.
Lacey accepted it and went on. “There are three things I wanted to talk to you about,” she said in her best I’m-the-boss-and-this-is-all-business tone. “I just got into town yesterday and I’m staying in an apartment Hutch owns. But it’s in Northbridge and it takes me fifteen minutes to get from there to the site—”
“Fifteen minutes is an eternity to you?”
That was the way she’d said it. “It would just be better if I could be closer, and I’ve been told that the nearest thing to the site is your place, and that you have a guesthouse. I was wondering if you might be interested in renting it?”
“To you? For you to live in?”
“It would just be me, yes. And I would hardly be there except to sleep because this project is going to keep me on-site the rest of the time. You probably wouldn’t even know I was there.”
“Oh, I think I would …”
Lacey had no idea what that meant but it had come with a hint of a smile that curled only the left side of his mouth. A smile that was even sexier than the brow wipe had been.
But why things like that were even occurring to her, she had no idea. She opted to ignore the phenomena and go on as if she hadn’t heard his comment.
“I only need somewhere to sleep and shower and change clothes, really. And of course I’ll pay rent—”
“You’d need a kitchen, too, wouldn’t you? How else would you fix meals without a kitchen?” he asked, giving no indication whether or not the guesthouse did have a kitchen, merely seeming curious. In a laid-back, slightly amused way that was also sexy but still a little frustrating to Lacey.
“Okay, yes, a kitchen—or just a kitchenette where I could make coffee would be nice—but most days I eat whatever I can order in at the site,” she answered, as if it were inconsequential. “And if you had some pressing need for your guesthouse while I’m using it, I could always spend a night or two with one of my brothers. If it was absolutely necessary—”
“And make that looong fifteen-minute commute?”
He was clearly teasing her because he’d said that with a full smile. A very engaging smile.
But Lacey was sweltering in that sun and didn’t have time to waste admiring his smile, so she said, “Yes,” as if his question had been serious. “The second thing I needed to talk to you about is the house and barn on the property we bought from you—”
“Yeah, we thought long and hard about getting rid of those. My great-grandfather was born in that house, his father used the barn as a lumber mill and that was where my great-grandfather started the business. As kids when we’d visit here we’d have sleepovers in the old place. But since nobody’s used anything over there since we were all kids, and since the land is played out both for crops and for grazing, we decided to sell.”
“Yes, well,” Lacey said, impatient with the family history. “There are some things still in the attic in the house and in the barn—”
“There are? I thought we got everything out.”
“Apparently not. Since they’re your family’s belongings, you should be the one to go through them, and throw them out or move them or whatever. And third,” Lacey went on, “my father was … Well, let’s say he wasn’t happy with the way things worked out when he bought this land—”
“Your brother was supposed to get the Bowen farm for the training center but he ended up getting the girl instead and marrying her,” Seth Camden said with more amusement. Then, apparently to explain how he knew that, he added, “Northbridge is a small town.”
“Right. Well. Just when Ian thought they could pick up the McDoogal property instead—”
“I’d already bought it.”
“Yes, you had.” And Lacey couldn’t be sure whether that had been because the Camdens had genuinely wanted the McDoogal place or if it had been a classic Camden move.
Buying the property out from under them had put the Kincaids in a position where they had needed to deal with the Camdens rather than the cash-strapped McDoogals in order to get any land at all. They’d ended up paying more for less acreage—not the McDoogal place, but the original Camden homestead.
It was the kind of situation that Lacey had learned about in her college class, the kind of situation in which the Camdens’ gain was someone else’s loss.
“At any rate,” Lacey went on, lifting a hand to shade her face because she thought she could feel it beginning to sunburn, “when his temper is up, my father tends to act rashly. In his hurry to get the training center underway, he didn’t wait for a complete report from our people, and now we know that to build the main road leading to the center, we need access to a section of land you still own.”
“And you came all the way out here today to what? Negotiate?”
“It’s simple access for a road. That’s all I’m asking. We can buy that strip of land from you—”
“Or lease the land for the road and pay us a fee for it in perpetuity.”
Was he just thinking on his feet or was this something he’d anticipated? Again Lacey wondered about the less-flattering things that were said about Camden business practices.
“It’s hot out here, so let’s see if I have everything straight so you can get out of this sun,” he continued. “You want to live in my guesthouse, you want me to clear out the old attic and barn, and you want to put a road through Camden land for your training center.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, yes and no.”
“Yes, yes and no …” Lacey repeated.
“Yeah, sure, you can use my guesthouse—which does have a small kitchen, if you ever want to eat. Sure, I’ll clear out the attic and the barn. But no way, here and now, am I giving the