“I laid one on him. Standing right there in his kitchen, moved in and gave him one of those here’s-what-you’re-missing-so-why-don’t-you-come-get-it kisses.”
Stella’s lips quivered up into a smile. “And did he? Come and get it?”
“You could say. The kiss he gave me back was more of the since-you-opened-the-gate-I’m-galloping-right-on-in variety. He’s got a really amazing mouth. I sort of figured he did, but having a couple of good samples made me realize I’d underestimated. Considerably.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? It’s what you wanted.”
“It’s not about what I want. Or maybe it is.” She pushed back to her feet, but there was nowhere to pace in the tiny office. “Maybe that’s just the point. In his kitchen, Stella. I kissed him in his kitchen, and a few hours later, she’s in there wrecking the place. It doesn’t take a math whiz to put that two and two together. I opened the gate, all right, but she’s the one who came in.”
“You’re mixing metaphors. I’m not saying you’re entirely wrong,” she added, and stretched out from the chair to open her little cooler for bottled water. “But I am going to say it’s not your fault. She’s a volatile presence, Hayley, and none of us is responsible for her actions, or what happened to her.”
“No, but try telling her that. Thanks,” she said when Stella handed her one of the bottles.
“What we’re doing is trying to find out, maybe to make it as right as it can be made, but we have to live our lives while we do.”
“It’s about sexual energy and emotional attachments. That’s what Roz thinks, and I think she’s on to something.”
“You told Roz about you and Harper.”
She took a long, deep drink. “No, no, I mean in general. And there isn’t any ‘me and Harper,’ not really. Roz and Mitch think it’s the sexual buzz and the developing emotions that get her stirred up, at least in part. So I’ve got to work off some of this buzz and these feelings.”
“Even if you could, you’re not taking Harper’s buzz or feelings into account.”
“I can take care of that. It’s when they’re directed at me. Otherwise, she’d’ve slapped at him before.” Her fingers tightened on the bottle, but she caught herself before the gesture pushed water over the lip. “You can bet he’s done more than kiss a woman in his kitchen in that house before last night, and she didn’t get bent out of shape.”
“Again, no argument. But if it does connect to you and Harper, then it must mean something. Maybe something important. The way Logan and I, the way Mitch and Roz mean something important to each other.”
“I can’t think about that. Not now. I just want to work off this edge. Give me something physical.”
“I want all the excess stock cleared out of greenhouse one, brought around front for a display. One table for annuals, one for perennials, and marked thirty percent off.”
“I’ll get right on it. Thanks.”
“Be sure to remember you thanked me when you collapse from heat exhaustion,” Stella called out.
SHE LOADED FLATS and pots on a flatbed cart and hauled them around to the front of the building. It took her four trips. She muscled over the tables she wanted, positioning them where they’d be most likely to catch the eye of someone driving by. Possible impulse sales, she decided.
She still had to stop from time to time, talk to customers or direct them, but for the most part, she was blessedly left alone.
The air was close and heavy, the sort that brewed itself into thunderstorms. She hoped it did. She’d relish a bitching good storm. It would suit her mood exactly.
Still, the work kept her mind busy. She played the game of identifying and reciting the name of each specimen as she unloaded. Pretty soon she might be as good as Roz or Stella at recognizing plants. And she was pretty sure by the time she finished the work, she’d be too worn out to think about anything.
“Hayley. Been looking for you.” Harper’s brows drew together as he got closer. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Working.” She swiped a forearm over her sweaty brow. “That’s what I do around here.”
“It’s too hot for this kind of work, and the air quality’s in the toilet today. Get inside.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“Technically I am as I’m part owner of this place.”
She was a little breathless, and the damn sweat kept dribbling into her eyes. It only made her more irritable. “Stella told me to set this up, and I’m setting it up. She’s my immediate supervisor.”
“Of all the stupid—” He broke off, strode inside.
And straight into Stella’s office. “What the hell’s wrong with you, sending Hayley out in this heat hauling stock around?”
“Good God, is she still at it?” Alarmed, she pushed back from her desk. “I had no idea she’d—”
“Give me a goddamn bottle of water.”
Stella grabbed one out of her cooler. “Harper, I never thought she’d—”
But he held up a hand to cut her off. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
He marched out again, stormed outside, straight to Hayley. She took a swat at him when he grabbed her arm, but he pulled her away from the front of the building.
“Let go. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting you into the shade for a start.” He propelled her around the back, through tables and potted shrubs, between greenhouses, until he came to the shaded banks of the pond.
“Sit. Drink.”
“I don’t like you this way.”
“Right back at you. Now drink that water, and consider yourself lucky I don’t just toss you in the pond to cool you off. I expected better of Stella,” he said when Hayley glugged down water. “But the fact is, even though this is her second summer, she’s a Yankee. You were born and raised down here. You know what this kind of heat can do.”
“And I know how to handle it. And don’t you blame Stella for anything.” But she had to admit, now that she’d stopped, she felt a little queasy and light-headed. Giving in, she stretched out flat on the grass. “Maybe I overdid it. I got caught up, is all.” She turned her head, looked over at him. “But I don’t like being pushed around, Harper.”
“I don’t like pushing people around, but sometimes they need it.” He pulled off his fielder’s cap and waved it at her face to stir the air and cool her. “And since your color’s several shades under fire engine now, I’d say you did.”
It was hard to argue when it felt so good to stretch out on the grass, and so sweet to have him fanning her with his sweaty old cap.
The sun was behind him, but filtered through the high, thickly leaved branches so that it dappled over him, made him look romantic and handsome sitting in the summer shade.
All that dark hair, curling a bit at the ends from the heat and humidity. And those long, chocolate brown eyes were so . . . delicious. The blades of his cheekbones, the full, sexy shape of his mouth.
She could lie here, she thought, for hours just looking at him. The idea was foolish enough to make her smile.
“You get away with it, this once. I had a lot on my mind, and good, sweaty work helps me deal with it.”
“I got another way to deal with it.” He leaned down, then stopped, cocked his head when she brought her hand up between them.
“We’re on the clock here.”