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“Oh, really?” Jana challenged. “You know a lot of ten-year-olds? How many exactly do you know, Mr. Prosper?”
Knox looked up at the ceiling, as if he had to count them all in his mind. When their gazes connected again, he said, “Okay, so maybe I don’t know any ten-year-olds personally, but I am a grown man, and I couldn’t do any of this.”
Jana set her glass down, then rested her hands on her hips. “Sure, you could. It’s easy, once you learn in the first place.”
Knox set the jar down and tilted his head while studying Jana.
She wouldn’t blush—nope, she wouldn’t. She was way past any connection with Knox Prosper, and all her feelings were in the past.
“My mom would probably faint on the spot if she heard me say this,” Knox said in a slow voice, “but I’d love to learn to make jam.”
Jana felt like fainting on the spot herself. As it was, she placed one hand on the counter behind her. “You would, huh? And why’s that?”
Knox picked up another jam jar and acted like he was studying it, but Jana wasn’t fooled. He was stalling to come up with an answer. “Seems like a good and useful skill to have. I mean, I can’t ride bulls forever.”
The laughter burst out of Jana, completely unexpected. She covered her mouth to stop any more outbursts.
Knox smiled as he set down the jar and folded his arms. “What? You don’t think this old cowboy can learn new tricks?”
Jana had to stop grinning. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t fall into any sort of friendly pattern with Knox. “I just don’t get why you want to learn. You don’t seem much the homemaker type.”
“Are you being sexist, ma’am?” Knox said, his face straight.
Jana laughed. “Not at all… I’m being Knox-ist, I guess.”
He dipped his chin. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Jana. I’d like to learn if you’re willing to teach me.”
Her pulse fluttered, and instead of giving into wanting to tell him yes, she said, “How about I think about it, cowboy?”
