Page 39 of Puppy Kisses

“Are you serious about this, Mrs. Benson?” he asked. “All this time, all these negotiations, and there’s literally no way you can sell us the property?”

“Goddamn lawyers,” she said by way of answer. “They’re part of the Illuminati—did you know that?”

Dawn coughed gently. “What Bea means is that she’s not overly fond of legal entities imposing their will on her.”

“No, what I mean is that they’ll take the skin off your back and prance through town wearing it like Lady Godiva.”

Dawn’s hand stole under the table to touch Adam’s knee. It was a quick gesture and could have easily been interpreted by anyone at the table as a way for Dawn to pet the puppy rather than the man, but he found it comforting all the same.Trust me, that touch said.Believe in me. Give me all your problems, and I promise to make them okay.

She obviously had no idea how tempting that was.

“I won’t know until I find the papers she’s talking about, but it sounds as though it’s pretty straightforward.” A gurgle of laughter escaped her throat. “And easy to get around.Beacan’t sell to you, but there are no limitations once the property has been moved out of her hands.”

Adam’s heart rate picked up. “You mean…”

“I mean that what the next owner does with this godforsaken mud pit is no concern of mine,” Bea said. “Orthe damn lawyers.”

“Yes, Adam,” Dawn said in a much gentler tone. “That’s what she means.”

“Wait…I’m confused.” Phoebe scraped her fork across her plate. The high-pitched sound caused Methuselah to twitch, but Adam stilled her by running his hand over the back of her neck. “What are we talking about? I thought we just decided that the sale is off.”

“It is,” Adam said. “At least, the sale to Dearborn Ranch is off. But ifDawnwere to make an offer, what’s to stop her from signing it over to us as soon as the dust settles?”

This neat—if somewhat immoral—summary of the situation shocked Phoebe into momentary silence, but Bea’s cackle rose anew. It was accompanied with a hearty slap of her hand on her leg. “Damn if I don’t almost like you, Adam Dearborn. You’ve got grit. Your grandfather had grit.”

Coming from Bea Benson, that wasn’t much of a compliment, but Adam took it as one anyway. There were worse things in the world than to be compared to the man who’d built the Dearborn name into what it was.

“I’m not saying my mind is made up,” Bea warned. “Until Dawn finds those papers, there’s no saying what will happen. But I’m willing to let her poke around a little. She has grit, too.”

Dawn had a lot more than that going for her, but Adam wasn’t about to start listing her virtues. Once he got started, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. Once again, she was doing so much for him—for his whole family. And for no reason he could easily discern unless it was the novelty of it all.

“I wonder if I should do it under cover of night,” Dawn said in a laughing, teasing voice that made Adam feel likenoveltymight not be too far from the truth. “Sneak in when no one is looking, sort through the boxes away from the prying eyes of the Illuminati.”

“I’m not so sure that much secrecy is required,” Adam said. “I doubt either the Illuminati or the Smithwoods pay that much attention to what goes on around here.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” a slow, somewhat dry male voice said from the doorway to the house. “Contrary to what the Dearborns believe, some of us are able to see what’s going on right under our noses. Uh, no offense.”

Adam’s hand stopped on top of Methuselah’s neck. The puppy took instant exception to this, squirming her body so that her stomach was exposed and he could continue his ministrations. There was no denying such a demand, though it made Adam feel like a villain, sitting in his chair and stroking his pet while his nemesis approached.

“Hello, Charlie,” he said, trying to keep as much of the villain out of his voice as possible. There was no need to add to the theatrics around here.

“Adam.” Charlie Smithwood’s voice was equally level. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He was, and they both knew it, but the unspoken arrangement between the two families was one of unperturbable—if resentful—civility. Even when they’d been kids meeting across the schoolyard, Charlie had been unfailingly polite in the way he’d put them all down.Oh, look. There are the Dearborns. Did you want to play on the monkey bars, or would you rather sneak in the classroom and steal everyone’s pencils while their backs are turned?

“Of course not,” Adam lied. “We were just having some lemonade with our favorite neighbor.”

Bea snorted her appreciation for this remark but didn’t add anything to the conversation. No one did, which was something Adam never enjoyed. He didn’t like feeling as though he was missing something.

Dawn must have realized it, because she quickly and easily stepped into the breach. “I’d offer to pour you some of it, but it’s highly alcoholic and you don’t look like much of a day drinker. NowI, on the other hand…” The ice in Dawn’s glass clinked as she presumably took a sip.

From the conversation that followed, that wasn’t the only distraction she intended to provide. “Oh no!” Phoebe cried. “Dawn, what happened to your neck? It looks like someone bit you.”

Adam did his best to appear natural, but it was difficult when most of his body functions had all but stopped. He wished he knew what Dawn was wearing, whether she’d made an attempt to cover up the proof of his loss of control or if she’d brazenly bared it all just to provoke him. He wasn’t a betting man—and neither was his grandfather, goddammit—but he’d have put everything he owned on the latter.

“Someonedidbite me,” Dawn said, and with such a saucy air that no one could mistake her meaning. “I like to live dangerously.”

Bea made a sound that could only be classified as aharrumph. “We had a name for girls like you back in my day,” she said. “It starts with the letter—”