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His hand catches my wrist with a firmness that sends a chill through me. “Wait,” he says, his voice deep and commanding. “I didn’t catch your name.”
I put on a fake smile before turning back to him. “Lola.”
“That’s a pretty name. I’m Jasha,” he says, giving my wrist a squeeze, but not letting go.
I look at his hand, hoping he’ll realize what he’s doing and release me.
Instead, he grins. “You’re too beautiful to be out here all by yourself. I’m hoping your boyfriend isn’t coming back to cause trouble. He’d be out of his mind with jealousy if he saw us like this.”
I know this trick, but I fall for it anyway. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I reply.
The sound that comes out of his mouth says a million things in a single second. “Hmm, so you’re single?”
“Happily so,” I reply, trying to pull away. He still doesn’t let me.
“Then why not make this a date?” he asks. “I’m here alone as well, just picking some apples for when my brother comes to visit with his wife and daughter. They likesharlotka, Russian apple cake.”
His story is too cute and quaint to be true. He must be lying, but what else would bring him to an orchard? Is he just here to pick up women?
That’s admittedly a poor idea, since most people here are couples with small children. The only reason I came here alone was because my friend flaked on me. It’s impossible to form reliable relationships with people when you’re always on the move, but that’s my current reality. My job takes me everywhere and keeps me nowhere.
“Sounds tasty,” I say to him, avoiding his question about the date. It wouldn’t amount to anything, anyway. I’m always on the move, and if I can’t even maintain a friendship in Texas, how the hell would I manage a full-blown relationship?
But something tells me Jasha isn’t looking for love. There’s a wicked gleam in his eye and a knowing smirk on his lips that tells a different story. “Maybe you’d like to try some. I’d love to have you over.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say, tugging my arm away as he loosens his grip.
He leans in, his breath minty with a hint of tobacco. “No, but I’d like to.”
Goosebumps erupt down my arms and legs, and I take a step away from him to prevent him from seeing what his words have done to me. If he knows how weak I feel right now, I’m certain he’d take advantage of it. His arrogance isn’t the only thing that concerns me. He has a look to him, predatory and dangerous. Getting mixed up with a man like Jasha would only lead to suffering.
He’s the type of man my mother warned me about.
But she’s not here.
And he is.
“Lola, my lovely girl,” Jasha says, reaching out and taking my basket. “Allow me to hold this for you. Pick some apples for us, preferably the ones that are higher up on the tree.”
“What, so you can look up my dress?” I ask dryly.
He pulls his head back in a show of innocence.
But that’s all it is.
A show.
“I would never think to do such a thing,” he says, shaking his head. “The apples closer to the top haven’t been chewed on my animals. They’ll be better for a cake.”
I squint at him. “I’m not getting back on that ladder.”
“I’ll hold it for you,” he says, putting down the baskets and grabbing the ladder with both hands.
“I really don’t need your help,” I reply, even as I step onto it. It doesn’t wobble like it did before. Jasha’s grip is firm and protective.
“Up you go,” he says, and I feel like I’m walking straight into a trap. Perhaps he’s going to shake it and make me fall into his arms again.
“That’s a nice apple right there,” he says, pointing to a branch just out of reach.
