There she was. Jessa Thorne in a hot pink jacket and matching skirt that molded to her curves. Her long dark hair floated around her shoulders in soft waves. Hazel eyes that were more green than brown looked me up and down. My cheeks heated and my pulse jacked higher and higher as she came closer.
Her full soft lips, painted the same hot pink as the low-cut jacket that showed off too much cleavage, slowly curved upside down in a disappointed frown. “I thought you said you had a business opportunity for me, Nellie.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets and shook my head. “No way.”
Nellie’s sharp gaze bounced back and forth between Jessa and me. “Sit down, the both of you.”
Jessa reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear as she lowered herself into a chair.
“I don’t know what you think you’re up to, Nellie, but I need to get back to the store.” There was nothing she could say that would make me want to stick around. Jessa Thorne had been a fucking thorn in my side—no pun intended—for as long as I could remember. I turned to go but only took two steps before Nellie’s firm grip on my forearm stopped me.
“Come back and sit down, Harlan.” She kept her voice low so I was the only one who could hear her. “You walk out right now, and you’ll regret it when Wild Wilderness sinks their hooks into this town.”
I glanced around the cafe. At that time of day, only a few tables were occupied, but everyone in the cafe was staring at us.
“You’ve got five minutes,” I said as I turned back and sat down next to Jessa.
Nellie let go and took her seat. “Good thing I only need two.”
Jessa bit back a smile while she reached over and snagged a piece of pie crust from my plate. I glared at her, giving her a look that had caused grown men to piss their pants. But Jessa only popped the piece of crust in her mouth and narrowed her eyes.
“Now, here’s how I see it,” Nellie started. “Harlan needs help bringing Big Package Outfitters into the current century. Jessa’s got a business degree but hasn’t been able to find a job since she doesn’t have a lot of hands-on experience.”
Hands-on experience… fuck me. I’d dreamed about the kind of hands-on experiences I could share with Jessa for years. If only she weren’t the baby sister of my two best friends, I probably would have taken my shot when she graduated high school. But Thatcher and Holt would cut off my balls and roast them over a fucking campfire if they even thought I might be thinking about their little sister.
“So what do you say, Harlan?” Nellie leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table.
I’d tuned out, too caught up in imagining an alternate universe where Jessa might look at me with something different than hate in her eyes.
“What do I say about what?” I asked.
Jessa rolled her eyes. “There’s no way this would work. He’s too hard-headed to listen to any of my suggestions.”
“Like you’d have any suggestions worth listening to,” I fired back.
“I’m not surprised The Warden of Hard Timber is afraid of losing control.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, deepening the cleft in her cleavage. My cock twitched as I tried to keep my eyes from straying to that expanse of creamy skin.
“I’m not afraid of change, sweetheart. I’m just allergic to bad ideas.” Trying to keep my cool around Jessa was impossible. The woman got under my skin like no one else. Always had.
Her brow arched. “I can’t wait to see if you break out in hives, then.”
“Stop that. The two of you need each other,” Nellie said. “Whether you like it or not.”
“The only thing Harlan needs is a hard kick in the ass.” Jessa’s eyes flashed.
I let out a low laugh. “And you think you could deliver one in those ridiculous heels?” I’d noticed them the second I’d turned around. I was used to seeing Jessa in cowboy boots or sneakers, not in a pair of strappy high heels that made her look like a grown-ass woman. A sexy, hot-as-fuck, grown-ass woman.
She pursed her lips and pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry, Nellie. If you’d told me the opportunity of a lifetime you had lined up for me was working with Harlan, I could have saved you the time.”
Nellie let out a sigh as Jessa turned her back on us and walked out of the cafe.
The momentary satisfaction I felt at running her off disappeared the second Nellie shifted her attention to me. “Why can’t the two of you be civil to each other?”
I lifted my shoulders, feeling like I’d been called out for misbehaving in middle school again. “Too much water under the bridge?”
“Bridges can be rebuilt,” she said. “Unless you want to hire some expensive marketing agency out of Bozeman, convincing Jessa to help you is your best chance of survival.”
“I seriously doubt that. You’re trying to help. I appreciate it. But I’ll be fine, Nellie.” I tossed a few bills on the table as I got up to leave.
