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A disappointing decision, he acknowledged. Especially when the humidity of the greenhouse intensified the hint of fragrance emanating off her skin.
“You didn’t have to ask me anything,” he reminded her, trying his best to keep his eyes off Josie’s mouth as she stood backed up to a wall of fruit crates. “You were quizzing the girl behind the counter for all she was worth.”
“I hadn’t declared a truce withher,” she snapped. “You can’t blame me for being mildly curious when everyone in here gawked at you on arrival, running over for selfies and autographs.” She gave him a once-over with her very blue eyes. “You’re notthathot.”
She rushed through that last bit. Even more telling was the way her cheeks turned a shade pinker.
“No?” He didn’t want to feel amused. Or aroused.
Unfortunately, he was both. So he canted closer to see the effect he had on that racing pulse at the base of her throat.
It sped faster.
“Definitely not.” She swallowed visibly and edged out from between him and the fruit crates, wandering past a bin full of seed packets. “So you can see why I’d want to know what all the fuss was about.”
She paced away from him, and he couldn’t deny that the long view of her was wholly satisfying too, her toned legs a pleasing sight in what remained of her cutoffs.
“You asked questions, plain and simple. Now it’s my turn.” His gaze followed the gentle sway of her hips as she strode the length of the greenhouse.
The fan spinning overhead made a gentlewhoopingsound as it sliced through the heated air.
“One question.” She pivoted around. Caught him staring.
Busied herself with peering into empty pots stacked on the far end of a worktable.
“Two. First, what really made you decide to leave Florida and come to Last Stand?”
She frowned down at one of the clay pots, running her finger over a chip in the side. “I lost my life savings to a con artist and needed a fresh start.”
Definitely not the kind of answer he’d expected, although he couldn’t have said exactly what he thought she might say.
“A con artist?” Indignation fired through him. “Did you file a police report? Are they looking for him?”
She remained silent, her lips pursing in a mutinous line as she toyed with a trowel resting on a wooden table.
Frustration knotted his shoulders.
“Okay, don’t answer those. But I get a second question, because I know you asked at least two about me—don’t deny it,” he said, before she could protest. He could tell she wanted to based on the way she drew in an indignant breath. “Second, did you know anything about bees before you took the job watching my mother’s house and hives?”
“Beekeeping experience was never a requirement,” she shot back, slamming down the trowel. “And no, I knew nothing about it.”
“Did Mom know that when she hired you?” he pressed.
“That’s three questions.” She retied the ribbon around the tail of her braid. A sign of nervousness? A need for order? “Are we ready to go check out the farm now?”
He had about a million more questions, but since he didn’t particularly feel like talking about the status of his own life right now, he shoved them aside for the time being. If she didn’t know what she was doing with the bees, wouldn’t his grandfather see through her? It seemed like a problem that would resolve itself, although kudos to her if she could read a few chapters ofBalanced Beekeepingand have good advice to offer a man who’d been farming all his life.
“Sure. There’s a vehicle we can borrow back here.” He pointed in the direction of a side door out to the equipment barn. “I’ve got a map of the plantings from the farm manager.”
He held the door open for her and she passed through, tugging the map from his hand as she stepped outdoors. Cal tried not to make it obvious he was breathing her in, though he may have leaned fractionally closer to catch her scent.
He didn’t know what it was about her—a woman with secrets and, he now knew, no money—that drew him like a magnet, but she did just the same. Maybe he simply craved a distraction from the one-two punch of getting booted off his team and not getting picked up right away. It had been a drop-kick to the ego, for damned sure.
No matter the cause behind his new fixation with Josie Vance, Cal found himself thinking about the kiss he hadn’t taken back in the greenhouse, and he regretted that now.
The hunger for her only sharpened.
What happened to his plan to get close so he could keep an eye on her? He’d never win her over by sparring with her all the time, questioning her motives and her past.
