Page 69 of River Wild

“Wow. Really? I’m shocked to learn this.”

“I could have been the cook,” I tell him.

“No, you couldn’t because Guy is, and he still works there. Aside from a cook and waitress, there aren’t any other jobs at the diner. So, let’s cut to the chase and get to the point of this conversation.”

“Well”—I lift my shoulders—“I just thought, if I told you what my job is, you might tell me yours.”

“You thought wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“You’re being rude, River.”

“I was nice before, according to you.”

“You were. And, now, you’re being rude.”

“I am rude. And mean. And an asshole.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Good. So, stop fucking arguing with me now and go get me your pruning shears, so I can trim this damn tree for you.”

“How do you know I have pruning shears?”

“Because I’ve seen you in the garden, trimming your bushes.”

Laughter splutters out of me. “You do realize how that sounded, right?”

He gives me an innocent look. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.” I roll my eyes. “And you do realize that, by offering to trim my tree—”

I snort and then clamp a hand over my mouth, and he laughs.

“You have a dirty mind, Red.” He slowly shakes his head, holding my stare. “And did you just snort?”

“You laughed, too.”

“But I didn’t snort.” His eyes darken with some unnamed emotion. “And I never claimed to be clean.”

Well … hells bells and Christmas tingle.

Something has tightened low in my belly, causing an ache to start between my legs. I press my thighs together and bite the inside of my cheek.

“You’re being nice again,” I say in a quieter voice.

“No. I’m offering to trim this tree because you’re half as small as it is, and you’re pregnant; therefore, you ain’t going up any ladders.”

I release a breath. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s not nice. That’s called being kind and thoughtful.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“And I’m not that small, by the way.”

Both brows rise in question. “Can you reach the top of the tree?”