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She looked at his outstretched palm. If she took it, would she ever want to let it go? Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and shook it. “Rachel.”
He tipped his head, looking at her neck. Then he cleared his throat. “Can I give you a hand, Rachel?”
For a second, she thought he meant something intimate. When he said her name, it felt like a caress. She blushed when she realized he meant the lawn mower. “It just takes a hard crank to get going.”
An amused light lit his eyes—gosh, they were blue. “I think I can handle it,” he said, opening the gate and coming in.
His tone was mild, but she could hear every naughty thing in his mind. The thing was, instead of thinking it lewd, like she would have with anyone else, she wanted to know what those naughty things were.
Oblivious to her mental dilemma, he went straight to the mower and looked it over like he’d never seen one in his life. He wrapped his long fingers around the T-shaped handle and gave it a firm tug.
The lawn mower roared to life.
She met his grin with a frown.
“It’s all in the touch,” he said with a grin. He gave the yard one sweeping look and then began pushing the mower.
“Wait.” She woke up from her sensual fog and went to wrest the mower from him. “I’ll do that.”
“I’ll do it. It’s good to have new experiences.” He smiled again.
She was struck dumb for a second before she regained her senses and reached for the handle again. “I can’t have you do it.”
“Sure you can,” he said as he started down the edge of the lawn.
“But—”
“I’ve got this, Rachel,” he said firmly, giving her a commanding look that made her want to reply,Yes, sir!
Maybe he was Christian Grey after all. She blinked dazedly as he pushed the mower across the small patch of lawn.
Well, he certainly made it look easy. She put her hands on her hips, at a loss. She couldn’t just stand around, watching him work, so she went to the bed of flowers next to the house and weeded them.
It gave her the best vantage point to watch him. She tried not to be obvious about it, looking at him from under her lashes. One time, he even paused to lift his shirt to blot the sweat from his eyes.
Forget speed dating. She needed to put him in Clancy’s and charge admission to come look at him. She’d bet there were tons of women—and not a small number of men—who’d happily pay the admission fee.
Jamie made quick work of the front lawn. Before she could say anything, he went around the back and did that too. She worried her lip. She knew it wouldn’t matter if she protested. He had the sort of determined look she recognized in herself when she wasn’t going to back down from what she wanted.
She wasn’t so far gone that she didn’t know why he’d want to do her lawn that badly. She snorted as she pulled a dandelion. She knew when someone was trying to score points with her.
Maybe hehadbeen making googly eyes at her last night.
The question was, should she do something about that?
The mower turned off.
Standing, she brushed the dirt off her knees and started to go back to check on him, but before she got very far, Jamie was there, on the narrow walkway on the side of the house.
“I put the lawn mower in the shed. I hope that’s where it goes.” He smiled easily at her.
It was so dazzling that she was momentarily dizzied by it. “That’s great. Um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, but I was happy to.”
He meant it, she could tell. No one liked mowing the lawn—it was a fact of life. Perplexed, she asked, “Why?”
“Because you didn’t want to do it. Because I’ve never mowed a lawn before. Because the lady in the house looked pleased.” He shrugged. “Take your pick.”
