Chapter Twenty-One
“You’re telling me that there are actually people out there who think they’re cows.”
Nash placed his hand on Kenzi’s lower back to guide her through the door from the garage to the house. The ride home had been enjoyable—more of the game they’d started over dinner, without the audience. “It’s called boanthropy, and it really exists.”
She was walking in front of him and paused to take off her shoes in the mud room. “You’re teasing me to see if I’ll believe you.”
He followed her example, tucking his dress shoes into one of the small cubbies. “Hey, I’ve done so much research on dairy farming in the past week, I could run a farm.”
Kenzi snorted. Not one of those dainty little snorts women do when they’re flirting, but an all-out you’re-full-of-crap snort.
“I mean it. I bet I know more than you do now. Case in point: boanthropy.” He tapped the end of her nose.
She swatted him away. The glint in her eye turned dangerous. “You wouldn’t last a day on a dairy farm.”
He circled his finger through the air. “And this pampered lifestyle has prepared you for the life of a farmer?”
She folded her arms and cocked a hip in a decidedly sexy challenge. There was no holding back; she brought out his most mischievous behavior. She wasn’t a naturally physically affectionate person—she’d hugged her sisters, but at the viewing she’d mostly shaken hands, even with extended family.
She hadn’t brushed him aside at the restaurant—even though she probably should have. Instead, she’d upped the ante to a point he had to hold on to her arm to maintain control. Thankfully, she’d backed off at that point. Otherwise he might have kissed her right then and there in front of Guy and Emma and God and everyone.
They didn’t have an audience now. He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to lift her chin up to keep eye contact.
“I could farm circles around you all day long, city boy.” She poked his chest.
The point where her finger had met his body shot electricity through his whole muscular system. He quirked a grin. “That would be crop circles, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s it. I’m taking you to the farm, and we’ll see who’s left standing at the end of the day.”
He stepped closer, cutting off what little sunlight could fit between their bodies. His earlier resolve to stay away from her for her own good melting like an ice cream cone in the oven. “Bring it,” he said huskily—not even sure if he was talking about farming any more or not.
“Are you two going to stand out there all day? I’m old. I can’t wait forever,” called a warbled voice from the living room.
“Grandma?” Kenzi spun around and darted away.
Nash followed a step behind.
“What are you doing here?” Kenzi bent to kiss her grandma’s cheek. The contact happened faster than a web page loads. “You remember my husband, Nash?”
The wordhusbandrolled off her tongue like it wasn’t a lie, like they were really married. Maybe the time spent avoiding her had been enough time for her to come to terms with their arrangement. Or maybe she was just getting better at lying. The idea saddened his heart. He didn’t want Kenzi to be less than she was when they’d married. He clenched his right hand into a fist. He was bad news and a bad influence, even when he wasn’t trying to be. Kenzi deserved a man who inspired her to be better. He should be better, not so easily drawn in by her flirtatious ways.
“I’m here because you girls need an intervention.”
Kenzi’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, wheel me on out to see your sisters. It’s time for a family chat.”
“Grandma—”
“Don’tgrandmame. Everyone thinks that because I can’t walk I lost my sight, but I saw plenty at your father’s funeral, and I’m not about to let you three fight like cats.”
At least someone cared about how well the sisters got along. Sure, Kenzi loved her sisters, but they were at a crossroads, and Nash wasn’t at all certain which direction they would choose to go. He didn’t want Kenzi to end up as alone in the world as he was—had been until he married her. Now he had a place to be every day: Charlie to debate cherries with, colleagues to schmooze over dinner, and Kenzi to share a home with. What would she have once he was gone? More than he would, but still not enough. People needed family. Coworkers and hired help could only fill in so far. After that, there was a gaping hole.
Kenzi’s arms drooped in resignation. She glanced down at her hip-hugging skirt and blouse. “I’d like to change clothes first. I can’t do aninterventionin this skirt.” She saidinterventionlike she had no idea what her grandma meant when using that word.
Grandma waved her off. “You shouldn’t be doing anything in that skirt. It’s too tight.”
Kenzi’s cheeks turned pink. She glanced at Nash from under lowered lashes. “I’ll be right back.”
