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“Aussie, you know I’ll wear you down eventually,” he says softly.
Oh, boy!
“Why do you think that?”Please let this not get awkies.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shrug. “We have chemistry.”
“You are very sure of yourself, Peterson.” I start fidgeting with my phone.
“You’re beautiful and funny, and I like spending time with you, even if it has always been about work.”
Gah,we are entering awkies stage.
My phone pings loudly.
While I attempt to think of something to say in response to Jensen’s words, it slips out of my hand, falling to the floor.
I undo my seatbelt and bend over, stretching my hand to scoop the phone up and catch Chance’s name on the screen. I read the message, rolling my eyes, and then sit back against the seat, buckling up.
I send him a poo emoji.
He replies with a laughing emoji.
“Everything okay?”
“Depends on what you call okay”—I swing my head around to face my friend’s side profile—“my cousin thinks he’s funny when he’s not, or do you mean my guy friend, who happens to be very handsome and funny, trying to mess with that friendship? It will hurt if you can no longer be my handsome-and-funny friend, but I don’t want to lose you because I think of you as a brother and nothing more. Plus, I am on a no-man ban.”
I watch the hurt invade his side profile as he keeps his eyes glued to the road. “So, I am handsome and funny, and the no-man ban when it expires won’t change the whole ‘brother’ bit?” I watch his jaw tense as he waits for my answer.
Crap-on-a-pumpkin stick!
“No,” I say quietly. “But I don’t want to lose you as my friend either.” Dang, it. My heart is hurting because I’m crushing whatever feelings he has for me.
We stay silent for a few moments. I am letting Jensen mull over my honesty.
“Man, the truth hurts like a bitch sometimes.” He tries to joke as he pulls up out front of the local butcher, our first stop of three.
I undo my seatbelt and wriggle my back against part of the truck’s door. “I’m sorry, Jensen. And you are right. We do have chemistry, but from my end, it is purely friendship-based.”
Jensen mimics my actions but leans an elbow on the steering wheel, resting the side of his head in his hand. “Nothing to be sorry about, Aussie. During these past months working for you, I’ve looked for more than there was between us. That’s on me. I thought a woman who looks like you had me on with your no-man ban, but then I liked you didn’t want to date guys. I watched men eyeing you up when we went for supplies, but you ignored every one of them. You’ve never led me on; if anything, you’ve made it abundantly clear. My ego didn’t want to admit a woman didn’t want to get in my pants, and maybe you became more of a waiting game challenge. Your willingness to work hard and learn the tools of the trade turned me on. You might look like a stiff wind will blow you over, but you are so much more than your physical appearance. It blurred the line you have drawn in the sand.” Jensen cracks the driver’s door open, and I take the hint the conversation is over.
My phone pings again.
Chance is asking me to let him know when we are about to head back to the Fainting Goat Ranch to get his team to clean up for the lunch break and pitch in with getting food cooked.
I finish responding just as my door is yanked open, and I let out a yelp as I all but fall out backward against Jensen’s hard chest. “Aussie, you’re sending me mixed signals falling into my arms.” I get swung around onto my feet.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Sure did.”
I have to nip this awkwardness in the bud and get us back to our normal. “You’re not playing fair. I think it’s best if—”
Plastering a smile on his face, Jensen cuts me off, “Let’s forget we ever had this conversation. Deal?” I can see how much this costs him emotionally, but if he’s willing to put it behind us, so am I.
I gently cup his cheek in my hand. “Iamsorry,Jensen.”
I drop my hand and move toward the sidewalk just as his arm lands casually around my shoulder, drawing me in for a side hug. “I know. Well, I guess you will have to supply Dad and me with lamingtons for the next six months; by then, I should be sick of them.”
