He sucked his cheeks in, but his eyes were still laughing. “Rent.”
“See, now, wasn’t that easy? Any preference on what goes where?”
“Nah. Figure you know more about kitchens than I do. But don’t be taking off with my armadillo. I’ve been guarding that from you Northern types for years.”
“Don’t worry. Your armadillo’s safe from me.”
Her cheeks went hot, but like last night, he ignored the accidental innuendo.
“Sweet Home Alabama” erupted from his pocket again. He gave a sigh and stepped toward the living room. “’Scuse me a minute, Anna Grace.”
“Just Ann—never mind.”
He disappeared around the corner with a chuckle.
The kitchen felt bigger without him in it. She studied the room’s layout. Pots and pans would go in the cabinets by the stove. Pantry items near the fridge. Silverware, plates, andcups closer to the dining area. She’d fill in everything else where it fit. She turned her label maker on, listening to the easy cadence of Jackson’s speech. She couldn’t make out his words, but his voice sounded strained.
Was that even possible?
Paws clicked across the wood floor. The dog plodded into the dining area, then plopped on her haunches. She sniffed in Anna’s direction, her chocolate eyes soft and lovable. “Such a sweet thing,” she murmured.
Jackson appeared in the doorway. He gave the dog’s ears an affectionate rub. “I got some stuff going on, so I gotta get going,” he said to Anna. “You okay here?”
Getgoing? He was leaving heraloneto put away his kitchen? Was sheokayhere?No, you dumb redneck, I thought the stupid bet was a ploy to hang out with me. She floundered for her fake happy face. Bad enough she’d misunderstood his intentions and thought all the teasing meant helikedher. She would be mortified if he realized it too.
“Sure,” she said. “Absolutely. I’ve organized a kitchen or two. I think I can handle this one. Besides, you’d be in my way if you stayed.” Or make her like him more.
She wassobad at this.
He dug a set of keys out of a heap on the counter. “Got a couple of pizzas in the freezer. You know how to use the oven?”
Was that guy-speak forSo, can you cook? I’ll be back for lunch at noon.“Frozen pizzas. Right. I’m on to you. The bet didn’t include a hot meal.”
Bad move. Now she had to watch that killer smile again. “A hot meal. I like those stakes. Might could be up for a redneck golf game when I get home Monday.”
Monday. He wasn’t leaving because of the phone call. He’d planned to go all along. “Sorry, I have plans Monday.” If planning not to see him counted as having plans. “You want me to lock up when I’m done?”
“That’d be right decent of you.” He tapped his leg. The dogwent to his side. “Don’t be messing up your whole day here if you got other stuff to do. Appreciate the help. You’re a peach, Anna Grace.”
She twitched but kept smiling. “My pleasure.”
He took the dog out the front door, and then she was alone in a near-stranger’s kitchen, doing his damn momma’s work. He was a thoughtless, ignorant redneck who flirted and teased and asked girls out to dinner so he could get a clean house or a hot meal.
She stormed around the kitchen. She should put his silverware in the drawer near the stove, far, far away from the dining area. That’s what sheshoulddo.
But then he might think she was mad about his leaving.
Or worse, that she was too dumb to organize a kitchen. Wouldn’t that be the redneck calling the Yankee a hick?
At least things were straightforward with her label maker. It might’ve been made in China, but they understood each other perfectly.
“You tried Daisy’s biscuits yet?”Miss Flo asked Jackson Sunday afternoon.
They sat at a rented table on the lawn behind the monstrosity of a house that his momma called home. Louisa and her girlfriends squealed and giggled and gossiped two tables down. His head ached like his stomach had after he’d sampled Miss Flo’s granddaughter’s biscuits this morning.
“Light and fluffy,” he said.
Miss Flo beamed. “She’s coming bowling with us tonight if you got a notion to hide out from all the fireworks.”
