He ignores me. “What would you do, if not this?”
I shrug. “Isn’t that the big question? I have no degree, no discernible skills beyond running this place. Even if I actually went through with selling it off, which Ineverwould by the way—that’s just my seasonal burnout talking—there’s nothing I’m qualified to do. I’d be a poor retired farm girl living on a measly amount of money until I’m back on this doorstep, begging whoever took it over to give me a job, any job. Because it’s the only thing I know how to do.”
He nods, pressing his lips together. “Have you ever considered taking it a little easier during this time of year? It sounds like you’re really stressing yourself out.”
I shrug. “It’s temporary. And really, I’m truly honored to be able to take care of this place. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t catch up with me on occasion, but a place like this doesn’t happen often. There’s magic here that I get to create and perpetuate and share with the world. It is most definitely ajobsometimes, but that doesn’t mean I take for granted how cool it is.”
He takes another sip of his tea, looking out over the land as the swing gently sways.
“Well, you’ve done a damn good job, Evie,” he says, turning toward me and giving me the most genuinely breathtaking smile I might have ever seen on a man.
My face heats as I throw my legs out in front of the swing and turn my face away so he can’t see the color spreading in my cheeks. I take a shaky sip of my tea and abandon it quickly when I nearly slosh hot lavender all over myself.
And when I rest my hand on the bench next to me, I feel the warmth of his surrounding it a moment later.
I glance up at him and he only smiles, gently squeezing my fingers in his.
And—I just?—
Oh, fuck it.
I twist my body toward his, taking his face in my hands and planting my lips on his.
He lets out a little groan of surprise as his hands fall to my waist, tugging me closer until our torsos press together. He grabs the hip that’s angled toward him and pulls so my thigh falls across his lap.
I’m dangerously close to straddling this man in broad daylight and I’m not sure I care if anyone sees us.
He keeps me close, his fingers digging into the fleshy part of my ass as his other hand comes to my neck.
While I may have started this kiss, he’s controlling it.
His tongue winds into my mouth, breathing heavily as my hands run along his chest, his muscles bunching and releasing in response to every touch. My body melds into his, desperate to be closer as he murmurs against my lips, “Fuck Evie, you’re so goddamn gorgeous.”
His hand slips underneath the hem of my shirt, the warmth of his skin against mine sending a little shiver down my spine that only presses us closer.
I kiss that spot on his chin again—the place I claimed Ididn’tkiss, and the low note of approval emanating from his throat tells me he likes that just as much as I do.
His fingers weave up into my hair, tugging just enough that my head tips back. His lips brush along the sensitive skin there, coaxing an involuntary moan out of me.
I want to feel his lipseverywhere.
“Do you want to go inside?” I ask him, pulling away onlybriefly while my hands skirt along his thick arms, his strong chest.
Everything about him scares me, yet there’s an undeniable and totally unmanageable spark that runs through me every time he kisses me.
He raises an eyebrow, his nod subtle but enthusiastic. “Yeah,” he says, already standing and pulling me to my feet.
He pulls me to the door, abandoning our tea on the swing.
But before we can get inside and he can press me up against the wall—touch me, have his way with me—a voice rings out from behind us.
“Thanks for babysitting, sweetie.”
I turn, running straight into the hard wall of his chest, and he lets out a mildoof.
“Nora,” I sputter, taking a desperate step away from him as he hangs onto my hand for dear life.
I try to surreptitiously extract myself from him, but he doesn’t let go, his eyes glued to me.
