AsIwalk around to the other side,Igive myself an imaginary punch in the face and a damn good talking-to.Mustnot fall for the charm.Mustnot fall for the charm.Mustnotfall for the charm.
WhenIclimb in next to him, he makes a dramatic grab for the handle over his door, his knuckles turning white. “I’mgoing to hold on this time.”
Oh, why does his amusing sarcasm and the glint in his eye that goes with it have to make me want to stroke his cheek and run my fingers through his hair, while my lower belly quivers likeJell-o on a plate?Whydoes it have to behimwho does that?Whycan’t it be someone normal who makes me feel like this?
“Don’tworry.I’llgo easy on you.”Iknow there’s a flash of flirtation behind my own eyes asIsay it.Ican’t help myself.Howdoes he do it?He’sthe one man on the planet who shouldnotmake me behave like this, or make me feel like this.
Iturn on the engine and crunch over the gravel to the end of the drive.
“IassumeI’mtaking you back to theB&B.Hopeyou have something to change into.”Igesture to his general head-to-toe attire, then point at his lower leg. “Shameabout the pants.”
Heexamines the goat-engineered hole in the leg. “Thesuit’s toast, to be honest.ButIdon’t need one up here anyway.Andmy assistant already sent up some other clothes for me this morning.”
“Whatdoes ‘sent up’ mean to you?You’llget things air-dropped by helicopter or something?”
Heshrugs, like he can flick a switch and it will happen. “Myassistant grabbed some things from my closet, and my driver brought them up.”
“Oh, the luxury of having staff, huh?”
“They’reactually kind of like family.She’sdefinitely like an irritating little sister.Andhe’s quite fatherly.”
Weleave the townhouses behind and head between the fields back to town.
“So,” he sighs. “DidIpass the test?”
“Itwasn’t a test.”
“Whatwas it then?Didyou think ifItangled with a few goats and some mudIsuddenly wouldn’t want to open a store here?Orwas it purely revenge?”
Puttingit like that makes it all seem foolish.Butone thingIcan say for sure is that having my heart go pitter patter at the site of him feeding a goat, and struggling to take my eyes off the patch of his chest my mom’s bathrobe couldn’t cover, were definitely not the objective.
Norwas being on the verge of kissing him.Mycheeks heat at the hideous memory of it.Ican’t imagine a time whenIwon’t burn with embarrassment and shame and feel thoroughly disappointed in myself every timeIthink of that moment.
AllI’dreally wanted to do was show himI’mnot a pushover who’ll cave in to his whims with one waft of a check. “Youcan’t buy me off.”
“Becauseyou thinkI’dpromise to give you enough for a comfortable life, then leave town, and things would turn out a lot less great thanI’dpromised.Likethe developers did with your parents.”
Hethinks he’s figured me out now, huh?IwishMomhadn’t started that story.Informationis power to people likeMaxDashwood.
Igrip the steering wheel, stare straight ahead, and put my foot down.Heneeds to be out of my bus and back insideMrs.Lovewell’sfloral paradise as soon as possible.
Heswivels in his seat to look at me. “Whydidn’t you tell me about your dad?”
Mystomach tightens.Christ,Ido not want to talk about this. “It’snone of your business.You’rea virtual stranger.ButIdid tell you he died.”
Andthere’s his hand on my shoulder.Andthere’s a shiver down the entire right side of my body.Goosebumpssprout on my arm, just like they did when he poked me on the way here.Hemust be able to see them.Moreembarrassment.
“Notbecause of the stress of losing the farm, you didn’t.”Hisvoice is warmer.Butthat’s probably a technique they teach you in business school—get the prey to trust you.
Ikeep my eyes fixed ahead and try to hide the fact that everything inside me is swooshing around. “Itdoesn’t matter why it happened.”
Thetraffic lights are on my side this time, and the edge of town comes into view.ThankGod.Almostthere.
“Itabsolutely matters,” he says. “Becauseyou thinkI’mdoing the same thing.YouthinkI’mthe next person to sweep into town in a suit and a fancy car, and offer you cash for your business—the business that lives in your heart.YouthinkI’lldestroy it, rip your life apart, then just disappear, leaving behind my giant ugly grocery store and your life in ruins.”
“Andthat’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Heslowly moves his hand off my shoulder, his fingers leaving behind a trail of tingles that start a party in my underwear.Completewith hats, streamers, and door prizes.
