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The hardness around his eyes lessened and his arms dropped to his sides. “Do you have any experience with agriculture?”
“You’re kidding, right? Do you think I’d be working at a diner if I had any special education?”
He scratched his cheek, his nails making a scuffing sound against his morning shadow. “I didn’t ask if you had an education. I asked if you know how to work with plants.”
She blinked. “Oh. Well, not really. I do grow some herbs in a planter outside my window at my apartment. And I know how to tell when a fruit is ripe. I pick out the best ones for our pies.”
His features lightened considerably. “Maybe I’ll have a use for you after all. There aren’t many apples ready to harvest yet. I find a few dozen every day though. I pick them, and then we put them in our cooling units until we are ready to sell them at local fruit stands.” The bright expression clouded over. Brock didn’t seem to like to show his hand either. Maybe it was something to do with the way he was raised. “When Ian gets back, I’ll speak to him about his schedule. Maybe we can work something out for you.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.
Jessica watched him go, not feeling like she’d made any difference. Even worse was the impulse she was feeling to get them to like her. If Ian had followed her request, she wouldn’t even be here. So why was she so inclined to be the perfect guest?
Maybe it was the conversation she’d had with Liz the night before. That small moment between them when she’d almost felt like she’d come home.
What would it be like to fall for one of these men? They were so far removed from Tucker and some of the “quirks” he had. Something about them made her feel secure, like she was wrapped up in a warm blanket.
A little huff escaped her lips as she grabbed another dish and dunked it in the soapy water. What was she thinking? Men like the ones in this household wouldn’t go for a girl like her. Brushing aside the fact that she had a target on her back, she simply wasn’t the kind of girl for a rancher. Brock had said as much. And even though she’d argued with him vehemently, she could see his point. It wasn’t about the work ethic. She had that. It was their upbringings. Their backgrounds were far too different. Even if they managed to start a relationship, the likelihood that it would last would be slim. She’d been told she had some self-destructive behaviors. Namely, that she went after men who could care less about showing a woman the respect she deserves.
Tucker was a prime example. She’d been with him on and off, and along with him was a grocery list of similar guys. Her insides twinged and she scrubbed at the pan in her hand with more vigor. He may have had his faults, but Tucker had been her boyfriend and she’d cared for him. He was probably as good as it was ever gonna get. Now, she’d never see him again. The loss twisted her insides in knots, making it hard to breathe.
A gentle hand landed on her forearm and she jumped. The pan dropped into the sink, and a plume of bubbles lifted into the air. Liz smiled at her. “Maybe you should go easy on the pan, dear. It didn’t do anything to you.”
Heat flushed her face and Jessica brushed a stray strand of hair from her face with her upper arm. “Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts for a bit there.”
Liz tilted her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed and she gave Jessica a patient smile. “I don’t blame you. And honestly, being here probably isn’t making things much better.” She looked down at the sink. “You really don’t have to do these dishes. I’m more than capable of handling it.” Liz reached for the scrubbing brush, but Jessica held it out of her reach.
“No. Please.”
Liz gave her a funny look.
“It’s just that… I need to keep my hands busy.”
Liz laughed. “I’m afraid if I let you keep doing dishes, you’ll clean them until they disappear.”
Jessica’s blush deepened.
“It’s fine. How about we finish these up together, and then I’ll show you around the property.”
Jessica smiled. “I’d like that.”
