3

      Kyle’s cupboards weren’t filled with the ingredients he felt he needed to make a meal for Lourdes Bennett—or any other woman he would’ve liked to impress. He hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a week, which meant he was down to some condiments, some frozen meat, a few eggs and half a loaf of bread.

      As he stared into his refrigerator, trying to figure out what he could make, his unexpected houseguest wandered around his living room. At least the teenage girl he paid to clean his house and offices had come yesterday. He’d never been happier that he’d let Molly Tringette talk him into giving her a part-time job so she could save up for college.

      “You must like old houses,” Lourdes said.

      Giving up on the fridge, he moved to the pantry. “I do. But it’s not as if I set out to buy any. This place happened to be on the land where I built my plant. Made sense for me to live here.”

      “Looks like it’s been recently updated.”

      “Yes. I used to live in a smaller house even closer to the plant—for fifteen years, ever since I graduated from college. I rented this one out for quite a while.”

      “That’s when you opened your business? Fifteen years ago?”

      “I was set on manufacturing solar modules from the beginning.”

      “You must have rich parents to start such an expensive business right out of college.”

      “No. Not at all.”

      “Then how’d you get into it?”

      Canned goods. Crackers. Oatmeal... Nothing jumped out at him. But he supposed he wasn’t going to find a Caesar salad, bacon and cheddar-topped potatoes and filet mignon in the pantry. He’d have to make whatever they ate, and he didn’t have a lot to work with. “Somehow I convinced the president of our local bank to give me a loan. What with all the new regulations, I doubt the same scenario could happen these days. He lent me that money based solely on his confidence in me.”

      “I can only imagine what you must’ve been like—so young and full of ambition.”

      “I was certainly driven. But solar was a gamble back then. When I think about it, I’m still surprised he did it.” Giving up on the pantry, he returned to the fridge—as if he might see something different when he looked in it a second time.

      “Why was solar such a gamble? Most people see it as the wave of the future.”

      “That long ago, the ‘wave of the future’ was too expensive for all but the richest people. That made it hard to sell.”

      “I would’ve bet on you, too. In a heartbeat.”

      He turned to look at her. “To what do I owe such a compliment? My trustworthy face?”

      “I’d credit it more to your inherent confidence. You believe you can do...whatever, so the people around you believe it, too.”

      How had she come up with that? They knew virtually nothing about each other. “I had no idea I was so confident that complete strangers could tell.”

      “I’m good at reading people.” She gestured around her. “So...you fulfilled your obligation to the bank, and then you remodeled?”

      He wondered whether she’d mind if he ran to town to get dinner. He almost suggested it. But she’d said she was hungry, and he guessed she’d prefer not to wait. “I wasn’t in a hurry to put any money into the house. The business has always been my top priority. But last year when I bought the property with the house you’re renting and decided to clean it up, I figured I might as well update this one, too, and move into it.”

      That he’d finally gone ahead and made so many improvements drove Noelle nuts, since she’d been dying to fix up one of his houses while they were married. Actually, she’d started out begging him to buy her a big house in town—something that would show wealth and status, and where she could be at the center of activity. He’d refused, and his refusal had caused so many arguments between them that he’d stonewalled her when she eventually gave up and asked for a remodel of one of his current homes instead.

      Now he felt like a stubborn ass. He could’ve allowed her to enjoy the process—as well as the finished product. But he’d been so irritated with how shallow she was, and was so miserable being married to her, he’d dug in his heels.

      In retrospect, he understood that making her live in an old house he could’ve remodeled but wouldn’t was his revenge for knowing she’d trapped him to begin with.

      “You must’ve used the same contractor,” Lourdes mused.

      “Yes. One of my best friends, Riley Stinson.”

      “He does quality work.”

      “Come spring, he’s planning to renovate the house next door, which I’m currently renting to one of my employees, and the one closer to the plant, which is currently empty. They’ll look a lot different when he’s done.”

      She stared out at the snow falling into his backyard, which wasn’t a yard so much as a large field. “How many employees do you have?”

      “Fourteen, at the moment.”

      “That must make you the biggest employer in Whiskey Creek.”

      He chuckled as he moved the ketchup and pickles to see if there was anything behind them.

      He found...butter. Great.

      “Possibly,” he responded. “But that isn’t saying much.”

      “Were you born here?”

      “I was.” What if he made eggs and toast? It wasn’t a fancy meal, but he had a whole shelf of homemade jelly he’d bought from Morgan’s partner, who canned every spring and then foisted off on him whatever she couldn’t sell elsewhere. Along with some good coffee, fried eggs could be enjoyable...

      “Have you ever considered leaving?” she asked.

      He straightened. “Whiskey Creek? No, not really. Why would I want to do that?”

      “Don’t you ever feel it’s too...confining?”

      He thought of Noelle. She found it too confining. But he wasn’t like that. He loved it here, couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. Noelle was the only thing that ever made him want to leave. “No. My parents are in town, and they’re getting older. With my sister and her kids living in Pennsylvania, I need to help look after Mom and Dad. I don’t want to leave it all to my stepbrother, Brandon. Besides, I like the people here, the land, the freedom. Being in a big city, with the traffic and the noise and the pollution...that’s not me.”

      “I see. You’re a cowboy at heart.”

      “Not a cowboy. I don’t rope or ride. Don’t own a pair of cowboy boots or a Western buckle.