“I’m learning that.”
By the time they reached the selection of pavers, she was so excited that she walked off, leaving her purse behind.
He grabbed it without asking, tucking it under his arm. By the time they reached a massive selection of pebbles, gravel and river rocks, he was holding the pink measuring tape too while she sketched ideas in a little notebook.
She glanced up at him, mouth open as if to speak, then saw him holding her measuring tape. That blush that intrigued the hell out of him settled in her cheeks. “You don’t have to carry my pink measuring tape.” She gave him a once-over and amusement danced in her eyes. “Or my purse.”
Crew shrugged, completely unbothered. “I don’t mind. I grew up with a sister and we were raised by my gramma. I long ago lost any sense of embarrassment.”
Something softened in Fern’s expression. “Your grandmother raised you?”
“Yeah.” He shifted the purse onto his shoulder. “Mom wasn’t in the picture. Dad either, really. Gramma stepped up. She was...” He paused, searching for the right words. “She was everything.”
“Was?”
“She passed a few years back. I was...in the service at the time. Not around. My sister had to handle the arrangements and clearing out the house.”
The guilt still sat heavy in his gut when he thought about his sister Callie doing all that alone while he was halfway around the world.
“I’m sorry,” Fern said quietly.
“Yeah. Me too.” He met her eyes. “Now my sister and I only have each other.”
He looked at Fern—really looked at her. The way she stood there with dirt on her knees from kneeling to check stone textures, her hair waving over one shoulder in a disheveled tumble, her eyes full of something that looked like understanding.
Just telling her these things—sharing pieces of himself he hadn’t spoken about in a very long time—made him feel like they’d crossed some invisible line between being strangers with a common purpose to becoming friends.
She also made him rememberalltoo well that he was a man. His body was so aware of hers, he could practically predict every sway of her body. And damn if he didn’t want to test that theory.
Most of all, it was her bright eyes, full of wonder, that made him wish he was worthy of a woman like her.
He found himself studying the light scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheeks, then following the faint trail down to the neckline of her top. The simple act made his body tighten in ways it hadn’t in months.Even dressed for a day of rattling around garden centers, she had an innate, effortless sensuality—one no baggy clothes or dirt under her fingernails could disguise.
But he couldn’t let his mind wander. Couldn’t think about scooping her against him just to feel her softness pressed to his harder frame.
Couldn’t think of carrying her to his bed just to see her auburn hair spread out on his pillow.
He sure as fuck couldn’t think about making her eyes light up forhimthe way they did for her plants.
He eyed her again. Fern had a careful wariness, like she was always testing the ground before putting her full weight down.
Or waiting to step on a landmine.
He’d seen this before, after his sister experienced a bad breakup. Because of Callie—and his own situation—he knew how long it took to pick up the pieces after being broken down.
Handle with care, his instincts whispered.
But he could be Fern’s friend. He’d help her install security cameras and haul stone samples and carry her pink measuring tape without complaint.
And he’d ignore the way his chest tightened every time she smiled at him.
Because that was the right thing to do. Even if every minute with her made him want to reach for more.
* * * * *
Fern shot a sideways glance at Crew. The man couldn’t be this perfect.
Those broad shoulders made her want to slide her hands over the muscles and cling to him. Only a truly confident man would carry a woman’s pink measuring tapeandher purse without a single hit to his masculine ego.
