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Something about the way he drew out the words irritated her. “Yes. That’s what it is.”

“Interesting.”

She sat back and folded her arms. “What’s interesting about it?”

“The way you’re trying so hard to convince me—and yourself.”

“I’m not trying to convince you or me of anything.” Except that she’d just spent several sentences doing exactly that, and his expression suggested he’d noticed. “Look, we both know what this is. I’m eventually going back to California, and Grady isn’t leaving Wyoming. We’re enjoying each other’s company while I’m here. That’s all.”

He studied her for a moment, his teasing expression giving way to something more thoughtful. She wished she'd stopped talking before giving him quite so much to work with.

“Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself,” she said.

His expression softened. “Of course I will, honey.”

“Thank you.”

He mimed zipping his lips, then tossed an imaginary key away. The gesture would’ve been more reassuring if he hadn’t been grinning.

She got up and headed for the kitchen, hoping that was it.

Behind her, he murmured, “Brief fling.”

She stopped in the doorway and turned. “Do you want to be unemployed?”

His laughter followed her into the kitchen. Edith had her back to the doorway as she searched for something in the refrigerator, giving Amanda a moment to collect herself. She crossed to the counter and tried to put the teasing out of her mind.

Unfortunately, Fen had managed to put his finger on something she didn’t particularly care to examine. She and Grady had agreed on what this was, and she’d been perfectly comfortable with that arrangement when they’d discussed it in his bed.

So why had she felt the need to explain it quite so thoroughly?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

By ten o'clock Tuesday morning, Grady had decided he hated television production.

He sat at the long conference table in town hall with Mayor Tom Richards, four members of the town board, and three people from the advance team for Life, Restyled, listening as a location manager explained how many vehicles would eventually arrive in Antelope Rock. Apparently, making a television show required enough people and equipment to stage a small military operation.

Maps of town were spread across the table, covered with notes, proposed parking areas, and several colored marks he’d stopped trying to decipher twenty minutes ago. The production team was polite and professional, which almost made his irritation worse. It would’ve been simpler to dislike them if they’d arrived making unreasonable demands. Instead, they’d spent Monday walking around town, getting a feel for the place, and talking with merchants. Now they were asking questions, listening when he raised concerns, and seemed genuinely interested in disrupting the town as little as possible.

Unfortunately, their definition of “little” differed considerably from his.

“We’ll need to reserve those parking spaces on filming days,” the location manager said, pointing to an area along Main Street. “Not all day. Just while we’re actively shooting in that section.”

He leaned forward to study the map. “You block those spaces during business hours, you’re taking parking away from the stores you’re supposedly here to feature.”

“We discussed that with several of the owners yesterday. Most are willing to work with us.”

Of course they were. Half the business owners in Antelope Rock were probably already calculating how many tourists might show up after seeing their stores on television.

Tom glanced at him from across the table. “We can designate temporary parking behind town hall if we need to.”

“That’ll help.” He sat back, wondering how many more logistical problems would arise before the first camera was turned on.

The meeting continued through traffic control, equipment storage, filming permits, public access, and the possibility that spectators would gather once people figured out where Amanda was working each day. He’d already assumed that last part would happen. News of the production had spread through town over the weekend, helped along by social media, and by Sunday afternoon, anyone who hadn’t previously known who Amanda Sparks was had probably looked her up.

Curiosity had finally gotten the better of him. After making a point of avoiding an online search since they’d met, he’d looked her up—and even downloaded several social media apps to do it. He knew she was successful. The books, blog, social media, and television show were no secret. But knowing about them and seeing the actual numbers attached to them were two different matters.

Amanda had millions of people following some aspect of her life. The realization had been strange as hell considering he’d spent Saturday afternoon riding horses with her and Saturday night...