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“I know what I saw,” he said. “Your face lit up like a carnival ride every time we went somewhere new today. This place speaks to you. Use your mind and your muscles here, get some fresh air, then go back to your manuscript in the afternoons. Bang it out. Everyone wins.”
She nudged her chin up. “Research like mine is outdated and irrelevant so quickly. If I don’t get it published soon,Ibecome irrelevant. My life—well.” Rowan shrugged. “It’s my life.”
“So—is your goal to stay in academia, never do anything practical with your degree?”
She took a step backward. “Whoa, wait. Are you suggesting research is impractical?”
“No, but I think a lot of people stay at universities because it’s a safe option.”
“Safe?” An edge crept into her words. “Are you taking a lot ofriskswith your livelihood, Dr. Brady? It doesn’t seem like you’re going to be practicing much meaningful medicine hidden away here with your family in rural Pennsylvania.”
He stiffened. “My situation is completely different from yours.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough to want you.” The words tripped out of his mouth fast, without tact or guile. His eyes slid away, and he rolled his shoulders. Cracked his knuckles. Cleared his throat. “Here, I mean. Want youhere,to help.”
Rowan’s throat tightened and blood rushed to her head. She wasn’t a stranger to the sensation, but it was something she hadn’t felt in years. It was longing. Raw, terrible longing.
Walk out of here,she told herself,right now.
“Keeping my career on track is the only thing I care about,” she said. “I’m selfish, and I’m messy. I’m not great at making friends. I don’t think I’d be a good fit for what you need. What your family needs.”
“The grapevines don’t give a shit about your social skills.”
“You know what I mean. I saw your family dynamic last weekend. I felt like I was in a sitcom. It was so perfect and fun and lovely. The only thing missing was a quirky pet dog and a laughing studio audience.”
He considered her for a moment. “So, is your reluctance because you have a problem with my family, or is it your dedication to landing a prestigious postdoc? I’m trying to keep your excuses straight.”
A headache lurked at her temples. She felt stuck in a state of disequilibrium, like he’d blindfolded her, spun her, then asked her to pin a paper tail on something. First, with that bizarrely arousing tick check, and now with his irrefutable, inconvenient logic.
Harrison pressed his palms into the table beside his thighs and leaned forward. “What are you afraid of?”
What wasn’t she afraid of?
Rowan fidgeted, shredding the petals of the poor pink cosmos. For eight years, she’d managed to keep to her linear academic path. Minimizing the need for any decision-making minimized the chance she’d choose incorrectly.
“It’s just—too perfect,” she said. “Nothing comes without a price.”
He jumped down. The thud of his feet on the creaky floor was jarring, and in two long strides, he stood before her. “Obviously. You’d be working, Rowan. It’s hard work.” He sounded frustratednow. “We payyou. That’s how jobs work. An exchange of funds for services rendered.”
“I belong in an academic environment where people pretend to like each other, then go their separate ways after work.”
“We don’t want to hire you to hang out with a field crew and braid each other’s hair.”
Silence.
He crossed his arms. “Why are you here?” He was plainly echoing her interrogation on the dock a few nights prior.
Rowan mirrored him, crossing her own arms. “Temperance sent my résumé, and I told her I would—”
“Bullshit.”
“Do you actually want me to answer your questions, or are you going to keep interrupting?”
“You could’ve followed up with an email, explained that T.J. had incorrectly sent the résumé, and been done with it. So what kind of game are you playing? Why did you come?” The last four words were clipped, edgy.
Truthfully? Driving out here had nothing to do with a job—she hadn’t been lying to herself about that. She’d come because she wanted to see the damned greenhouse in the daylight, and she was curious abouthim. Full stop.
