“The pay is fair,” he said, his voice still low. “ We start at five. I don’t do late.”
“Five o’clock is my favorite time of day,” I lied again, flashing him a saccharine smile that I knew would irritate him.
“This way.” He started to walk and I followed him, past the greenhouses, and along the edge of the clearing to where a road forked off into the trees. He pointed to the right. “That’s my house.” Then to the left. “This is yours for the season.”
I watched the way his broad back moved, the muscles rippling under that flannel shirt. He moved with quiet, lethal grace that was entirely too attractive. I made a mental note to keep my gaze to myself. This man was my boss after all. Then I immediately looked at his back again.
The cabin sat a little way up the left fork, tucked back into the pines. He opened the door and stepped aside.
It was small. Basic. The main room shared space with a kitchenette. There was a couch, a chair, and a small kitchen table. Toward the back were two other doors.
He must have seen the question forming in my mind and that almost smile appeared again. “Bedroom and bathroom,” he said. “No outhouse.”
“Good.” I gave him another smile. “That was going to be a dealbreaker.”
He walked to the door, then looked back for a moment. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Cordell.”
“It’s Cord,” he corrected.
I nodded but didn’t say anything else. He left, pulling the door quietly shut behind him. As I stood in what was to be my home for the next several months, I wondered if I’d made the right decision.
Coming here to start again. To find a new beginning.
I’d wanted a change, and I’d certainly found one. Cord was a bear of a man—silent, protective of his space, and clearly annoyed by my presence.
And heaven help me, all I could think about was what those massive, calloused hands would feel like on my skin.
He was a lot. Too much, probably. He was the kind of man who didn’t just walk into a room. He owned it. And the way he’d looked at me... it hadn’t been sappy or romantic. It had been raw.
I liked it.
I’d spent my life being the sweet one. Being looked at with lust—pure, honest lust—was a novelty I wasn’t sure I was ready for, but I couldn’t deny the thrill it gave me.
I was exhausted, but my brain wouldn’t shut off. I kept seeing those dark green eyes and that thick beard. I kept wondering what his voice would sound like if he wasn’t barking orders. I wondered if be low and guttural if he was snapping out orders. In other aspects of his life.
I wasn’t looking for a future. I wasn’t looking forthe one. I was looking for a life that belonged to me.
As I headed back out the door to get my car, I wasn’t thinking about my mother or my brother or my empty bank account.
It was the way Cord’s jaw had tightened when I’d called him a brooding mountain man.
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.
Interesting. Sure. That’s what we were going to call it.
I just hoped I could figure out how to keep a plant alive before five o’clock.
CHAPTER TWO
Cord
I’d been running this operation for years, and I’d never once hired someone on the spot.
The mountain didn’t forgive sloppy decisions, and neither did I. Usually, I had a process. A checklist. References I actually called, because people lied on paper and they lied to your face even faster. I’d built the business into a fortress of glass and steel by being the kind of man who didn’t let a single weed take root—literally or metaphorically.
And then Poppy Evans had stepped out of that dusty sedan with her wild dark hair, that pink t-shirt that had clung to her in ways that made me instantly pay attention. She’d looked me dead in the eye and called me a brooding mountain man, and apparently, my common sense had decided to take the day off.
