Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement by Day Leclaire Read Free Book Online Page B

again in progress. Jordan went to tap her uncle on the shoulder, but Rainer caught her hand, drawing her off to one side.
    “We’ll let them finish,” he whispered and lowered himself onto a nearby stool. He became instantly absorbed in the progress of the game.
    Jordan sat perched on the edge of a lunchroom chair. Unease filled her. Why the delay? Why didn’t he get on with it? Stretching out the wait like this was pure agony. Perplexed, she glanced at him.
    He seemed totally relaxed, as though he had all the time in the world. He templed his fingers beneath his chin, his arms resting on his knees. A lock of curly white-gold hair lay across his furrowed brow and she knew a moment’s regret for the might-have-beens.
    An attraction existed between them, honesty forced her to admit it. Under different circumstances, she would have enjoyed exploring that attraction. She sighed, acknowledging the impossibility of it all. Even if Rainer hadn’t taken such an adversarial position, the produce business didn’t leave her much time for a social life.
    She glanced his way again, sensing his growing tension. Curious, she studied him, realizing in dismay he’d focused his full attention on her uncle. What was he up to?
    It hit her like a class-five hurricane. He observed Uncle Cletus in order to analyze his moves and method of play. Rainer could care less about the game. He simply used the opportunity to evaluate her uncle. Just as he’d spent the morning watching her, figuring her out, now he watched her uncle, figuring out an angle to use against him.
    Her eyes widened. An angle. Good grief, precisely what she always did. She sized up the competition, figured out an angle and moved in for the kill. Of course, she’d always thought of it in slightly different terms. She’d get a general impression of her customers, figure out their needs and try to give them what they wanted. Her angles were . . . nicer, rounder, smoother. Whereas Rainer’s were all sharp points and rough edges. But what gorgeous points and edges!
    The game ended rapidly, but then, it always did. The only thing more certain than her uncle’s winning a checker match was the chance of rain in a Seattle forecast.
    “Walker,” she said, “Andy needs some help sorting the oranges.” Her uncle’s friend took one look at Rainer and beat a hasty retreat. Jordan crossed to her uncle’s side and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Thorsen wants to talk to us about Cornucopia.”
    Uncle Cletus appeared startled to discover someone seated behind him.
    “Make it Rainer,” he said and stood, approaching with hand outstretched.
    Cletus looked at it as he might a coiled rattlesnake and reluctantly stuck his gnarled hand into harm’s way. “Since we’re being sociable, call me Cletus,” he muttered less than graciously.
    “My father says he knew you and your brother years ago.”
    This seemed to cheer Cletus some. “Quite right. The community was smaller back then, more tightknit. In those days you knew everybody in the business. Not like now. Your father and Jordan’s father, Jake, and I even socialized on occasion. I guess you could say we were the next best thing to kin.” He gave a weak chuckle. “Welcome to the family, my boy.”
    A smile crept across Rainer’s mouth. “Thanks.”
    “Nice of your pop to send you over to do the neighborly thing,” Cletus said a trifle nervously. “How’s Alaric feeling these days?”
    “Just fine, thank you. He’s looking forward to his sixtieth birthday this month.”
    Cletus shook his head. “Amazing how the years go by. My own sixtieth wasn’t all that long ago.” He stood up with a gusty sigh. “Well, son, it’s been delightful to meet you. Just delightful. You tell your pop I’ll try and stop by one of these days.” He looked hopeful. “I guess you have to leave now?”
    Jordan shut her eyes and let out a tiny groan.
    “Not quite yet,” Rainer said.
    Cletus fell back into his