He was nothing like his more sophisticated younger brother. Bobby Joe prided himself on his conservative, preppy image. He was an up-and-coming businessman and did his damnedest to impress. In contrast, Parr Weston dressed only to please himself and didn’t give a plugged nickel about his image or anyone else’s.

“Have you ever been in love, Parr?” The question was presumptuous, the answer absolutely none of her business, but she asked it anyway, instantly dreading his reply.

“Nope. I love ’em and leave ’em.”

“I didn’t expect to hear that corny line from you.”

He jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “But you knew what I meant. I don’t choose my words that carefully.”

His self-assurance was irritating. Did he know he made her nervous? Did he realize that despite her fear and anger she couldn’t stop herself from wanting him? All that rampaging emotion was useless when he didn’t give a damn one way or another. She decided to tough it out and see where the conversation went.

“Don’t you ever want to fall in love and get married?”

He shrugged. “Maybe someday. I’d like to have some kids.” He walked up to her, taking her hands in his.

It was a brazen move, but what else had she expected? She couldn’t have predicted his next question though.

“Why didn’t you stop Bobby Joe from leaving?”

Taking a deep breath, then slowly exhaling, she controlled her reaction to him enough to explain. But first she let go of his hands.

“He said something came up that couldn’t wait. Jack Quinn needed to see him tonight. He hated leaving me, but . . . but I understand how important it is to him to stay on track and jump at opportunities.”

“You’re starting to talk like him.”

His observation piqued her temper, in part because he was right. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. Anyway, Quinn could have waited until tomorrow. Nothing could be that urgent.”

Parr knew for a fact that Jack Quinn had taken his wife and kids to Opryland in Nashville this weekend. Eve, being Bette Quinn’s best friend, had mentioned the fact in casual conversation. Why had Bobby Joe lied? Who had been his mysterious caller?

Mary Beth launched into a defense of her fiancé’s actions. “Bobby Joe’s trying very hard to follow in your successful footsteps. Business always comes first. You taught him that back in the day.”

“Yeah. When I had a widowed mother and a kid brother to support,” Parr reminded her, his impatient stance making her think that he might just bolt. “But I didn’t have a beautiful strawberry blonde. I’d never leave a woman like you to tend to business that could wait until I got around to it.”

“Okay. What do you want me to say?” His compliments unnerved her.

He took a few steps closer. She took the same number of steps, in reverse. His nearness was doing a number on her self-control.