“Huh.” He scratched his chin. “What’re you doing tomorrow night?”
That sparked a big oldka-thump!in her chest. Her hand wobbled. The peach skin slid off with a jagged edge. “Studying.”
“Thought finals were over.”
“Need a certification at work.”
“Gotta eat though.”
She started to tell him about her Sunday baking system that allowed her to eat labeled leftovers the rest of the week, then realized he was grinning at her like he already knew.
She’d underestimated him.
And she didn’t like that she couldn’t decide if she liked smart Jackson or dumb Jackson better. She knew one thing for sure. She liked smart Anna, and smart Anna took care of herself first.
While she was deciding if she could take care of herself and let him in a little further, she conjured up a Southern smile of her own. “That’s so sweet of you to worry about little old me. But I’m in a real busy spot at work right now, and I need to keep my focus so I can keep eating. I’m sure you understand, being such a busy, important man yourself.” If he was worth her time, he’d fight for it.
Instead, he coughed into his hand again, his eyes going all crinkly, and then he had to turn away and cough again.
She sighed in her peaches. She couldn’t even politely stall for time without getting laughed at.
He eventually recovered, though his straight face seemed to be a struggle. “Reckon I should feel special you’re taking the time today to make me a pie.”
And suddenly she didn’t care if he was laughing at her, because he probably had issues of his own if he had to hide who he was behind that goofy redneck act. And if he could spend the time flirting with her, then she could be nice back.
“Well.” She grabbed another peach and took her knife to it. “I don’t make pies for just anybody.”
When he didn’t answer right away, she cut a sideways glance at him. His smile softened. “Careful there,” he said. “Next step’s letting me buy you some ice cream.”
He was watching her as if she were a puzzle he’d like to unravel, and the interest in his eyes was enough to make her want to be unraveled. Her knife slipped, and the sharp tip stung her thumb. She shifted over to the sink and flipped on the cold water to rinse off the peach juice, then grabbed a paper towel.
Jackson came around the counter. “Okay there, Anna Grace?”
“Fine. Really. It’s a little nick. I do this all the time.”
He set one hand at the small of her back and cradled her injured hand with the other. She caught a whiff of Old Spice. Something tingled low in her belly.
“Might could be you’re working too hard.”
She’d never believed in kissing boo-boos. A mini-panic attack seized her chest, but his touch dulled the throbbing in her thumb. When she tried to brush off his concern, she instead leaned closer to his warm, solid body. “Baking isn’t work.”
His rumbly chuckle sent delicious shivers over her skin. “It’s putting all those peaches and sugar where they’re supposed to be, hm?”
“Exactly.” She pulled the paper towel away from herthumb and inspected the injury. Very little bleeding, barely a tiny nick. The bigger injury would come from the electric shock when she broke contact with him before grounding herself.
Jackson brushed his thumb over the wound. “Looks like you’re gonna make it.”
“It’s no big deal.” She forced herself to look up at him. “I’ve got a Band-Aid in my purse.”
His eyes were warm and smoky over his crooked grin. “’Course you do.” He pressed a soft kiss to her thumb. “How about I go get that for you?”
Some padding for her self-preservation would be more effective.Lust, she reminded herself. She was good with lust. Six and a half years of practice at it.
She slid her hand out of his grasp. “I can get it.”
“As the lady wishes.” He picked up her knife and the peach. “You got some particular way you been peeling and cutting these here?”
Anna snatched the peach back. “I’ll just be a minute. The peaches can wait.”
