Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

I didn’t like what he was getting at. I liked even less the way it made me rethink a bunch of things. Narrowing my eyes, I met his. “I. Didn’t. Have. Another. Option.”

“Bull. Shit.” Apparently, that was Jesse’s new favorite word. Appropriate given he spent the majority of his days up to his knees in it. “You’ve got as many options as the rest of us. You’re just choosing to ignore them for some reason.”

I’d had enough. Enough laundry room, enough Jesse, enough crippling conversation. “You’re right,” I seethed. “There is ‘some reason’ I’m here. Good for you for figuring it out. Discovery of the decade.” I clapped at him. “What other scintillating tidbits do you have for us?”

Again, Jesse’s expression didn’t change. Nothing I said or did seemed to unnerve him. “Just one more thing,” he began, looking so hard into my eyes I half expected his stare to go right through me. “The reason you’re pushing me away, and the reason you’ve probably pushed everyone else away, is also the reason you’re here.” Stepping into me, Jesse’s eyes dropped with what I guessed was sadness. “You think you deserve this. You think you deserve to be alone and suffer. You’ve convinced yourself you’re so worthless that you’ve gone to the extreme to punish yourself. You think you deserve a life of misery.”

Yeah, I was going to cry. Big, ugly tears I really didn’t want him to witness. Instead of letting myself open up that way, I did what I did best. Stepping away from him, I lowered my eyes. “Get out,” I said, my voice shaking. “And leave me alone.”

Jesse sighed, then followed the first part of my directions. After the laundry room door closed behind him, I almost got down on my hands and knees to pray to whoever and whatever that he wouldn’t follow the last part of my directions.

If a brain could shrivel up and die from too much contemplation, mine was dangerously close to living out the rest of its days as a pruney, gray raisin. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Jesse dropped that bomb on me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. How had a teenage guy figured out what I worked hard to ignore? All in the span of a couple of conversations?

I came up empty in the answer department. What was almost as frustrating as having no answers was worrying about what those answers might be. Was I just that transparent? Had everything I’d done to build the eighteen-year-old girl equivalent of the Berlin Wall been nothing more than a house of cards? Was Jesse Walker the most perceptive human being to have ever walked the face of the earth? Was he psychic?

I felt a migraine forming when the door to the laundry room opened a while later.

“Oh, honey. Have you been in here the whole time?” Rose asked, inspecting the room. Her eyes widened. “When I assigned you laundry room duty, I didn’t expect you to clean the actual room top to bottom.”

I dumped the bucket of soapy water into the sink and shrugged. “I finished up with the laundry a couple of hours ago,” I guessed. The concept of time had escaped me after Jesse left. “Sorry. I still had some energy, so I figured I’d keep going.”

Rose chuckled. “I doubt this room has been this clean since the day it was built a hundred years ago.”

I slid the bucket back beneath the sink, finally feeling tired. It had taken about thirty loads of laundry, a hardcore cleaning of an entire room, and a loaded conversation with Jesse, but exhaustion finally creeped into my veins.

“Don’t tell my mom I know how to clean. It’ll ruin her whole world outlook.”

Rose took a few steps inside the room, looking around it like she didn’t recognize it. “Speaking of your mom . . .” Nothing good could come of that opening line. “I just got off the phone with her. I guess she hasn’t heard back from you since you got in yesterday, and she was worried.”

That’s because I hit “ignore” every time one of her calls came in. “I doubt that was worry, Rose. It was probably irritation. Or annoyance. Or something more along the Rowen-is-hopeless line.”

Rose stopped in front of the island and leaned her hip into it the way Jesse had. In fact, I saw a lot of Jesse’s mannerisms in Rose. Like mother, like son. “No, it was worry. Concern. After thirty years of knowing your mom, at least give me a little credit that I’ve almost got her figured out. Your mom might act a certain way and say certain things, but she keeps her intentions hidden between the lines.” Rose paused and looked at me pointedly. “Sound like anyone else you know?”

Damn. If Jesse wasn’t shoving my repressed issues into my face, it was Rose. What did a girl need to do to catch a break? I had issues. I didn’t like to talk about them. I didn’t like to think about them. End of story.

“Is there anything else you need tonight?” I asked, worrying over a stack of shirts on the island to distract myself. I noticed a JW written in black pen on the tag. Dammit. Did I even gravitate to his clean laundry?

The skin between Rose’s brows came together. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Shaking her head, her face ironed out. “No, I think you’ve done more than your fair share of work today. In fact, I’d say you earned yourself a day off tomorrow.” Her voice was back in all its Rose warmth. “Go into town and check out the sights. Relax. Unwind. You have my blessing.”

The sights? Jesse and I’d driven through what I guessed Rose was referring to as the “town,” but it was more like a one horse village still stuck in the 1800s. It was so non-descript, I’d already forgotten its name.

“Did you tell my mom you were giving me tomorrow off?”

“No,” she answered. “That’s between me and you. Your mom wanted you here so you could ‘prove’ yourself.” Rose’s eyes almost performed a full-on eye roll. Impressive. “From the moment you stepped foot at Willow Springs, you’ve proven yourself, Rowen.”

I shifted and eyed the exit. The conversation was taking another turn toward the uncomfortable.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’ve done, or what your mom thinks you’ve done, to deserve spending your whole summer where I’d guess is the last place you’d want to spend your summer. And you know what?” She didn’t wait for me to reply. “I don’t care. Every morning we get a chance to be different. A chance to change. A chance to be better. Your past is your past. Leave it there. Get on with the future part, honey.”

The laundry room was either the mecca of pure genius or utter insanity. After what Jesse and his mom had said, I couldn’t quite decide. What was it about the Walkers and their need to have deep, meaningful conversations? Apparently they’d missed the memo about the rise in casual conversation.

“I drank a lot. I skipped class a lot more,” I started, the words coming out of me before I knew they were coming. “I messed around with guys. I did drugs.” Rose’s gaze didn’t shift once. “I ran away from home. Twice. I got arrested. Twice. I tried hurting myself so many times I can’t remember how many.”

After that, I shut my mouth. Not that it really mattered. I’d said more than enough, but at least she knew who I was and what she was dealing with. If Mom had decided to leave out the gory details, Rose knew now. I wasn’t just one of those kids off on the outside; I was off all the way through.

“So now you know why I’m here. This summer is my chance to convince her I’m more than a liability.” I crossed my arms, trying to hold myself together. “But here’s what I can’t figure out. Why would you want me here in the first place?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, a little breathless. “Get over here.” She opened her arms and motioned me into them.

I went after a moment’s pause.

Rose folded me tightly against her, and I wondered if I’d ever been given such a fierce hug. “You’re here because you’re supposed to be. There’s nowhere else you should be right now. As God is my witness, I’m a hundred percent sure of that.” She sounded like she had a huge lump in her throat. That made two of us. “But you’re wrong about one thing. This summer isn’t your chance to prove yourself to your mom.” Leaning back just far enough my face was in front of hers, Rose’s eyes locked on mine. “This summer is your chance to prove yourself to you.”

Holy brain overload. So much was being said, even more was bing meant. I needed some time alone to figure that out before any more pearls of wisdom got dropped on me.

“I’d better get to bed then,” I said, managing a smile. “I’m going to have my work cut out for me if I’m supposed to be proving myself to me.” There was a brain bender if I’d ever heard one. “Thanks for everything, Rose. You’re pretty cool, despite being my mom’s childhood best friend.”

She laughed and let me out of her arms. “You know what they say. Opposites attract,” she said, her voice loaded with inflection. “Keeps things interesting.”

When I thought about my polar opposite, a tall, grinning cowboy with a rosy outlook and a fine ass popped to mind.

I had to shake my head to get Jesse out of there. There was so much wrong about fantasizing about the son of the woman standing in front of me, I was sure there was a special place in hell for people who did it. I started heading for the door.

“So what do you think? Gonna take tomorrow off?”

I paused in the doorway. “Nah. I think I’d better earn my keep.”

“You’re really up for another full day of laundry duty?” Rose’s voice was full of disbelief. Rightly so.

“About that . . .” I turned to face her. “Are you still okay with me working around the rest of the place if I wear something less . . .” I glanced down at my clothing, trying to paraphrase it, “intense?”

Rose nodded. “More than okay with it. You want to hang with me and the girls tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah,” I began, fiddling with the hem of my skirt. “I just don’t . . . I don’t exactly have . . .”

“Why don’t you stop by Lily’s room before you head to bed?” she said, saving me. “She’d be happy to loan you a few of her things until we can get into town to get you some new clothes. You two have to be pretty close in size.”

“Really?” I said. “You don’t think she’d mind?”

“I know she wouldn’t.”

Why? Why would a teenage girl not mind another teenage girl who was basically a stranger knocking on her door and asking to borrow some clothes? Oh yeah, because the Walkers were the damn nicest people I’d been around. Something was in the well water out at Willow Springs.

“Okay,” I said with a wave. “I’ll see you in the morning. I mean, I’ll see you at the crack of dawn.” I smiled at Rose as I left the laundry room behind.

“Tomorrow morning. Brand new chance. The first day of whatever life you want to have for yourself.” Rose called after me, “Wake up wisely.”

The first floor was quiet as I headed for the stairs. No sounds other than the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the foyer and the chorus of crickets coming through the cracked open windows. The kitchen lights were turned off, along with most of the other lights, except for one small lamp glowing in the living room window. Rose had told me earlier they always kept that one light glowing to remind them that when the night is at its darkest, there’s always a promise of dawn to come.

Yeah. I wasn’t living with just the nicest family in existence; they were probably descendants of Aristotle.

I still hadn’t met Neil, Rose’s husband, but if Willow Springs kept him as busy as Rose, it wasn’t a big surprise I hadn’t bumped into Jesse’s dad. Especially since all I’d been bumping into was washing machines and dryers.

Before traipsing up the stairs, I took one more look around. He wasn’t here.

Maybe he didn’t live here anymore. He was nineteen after all. Maybe he lived some place else and only worked there. Maybe he stayed back in the bunkhouse with the rest of the ranch hands.

When I realized I was spending way too much time contemplating where Jesse laid his head at night, I gave myself a mental slap and bolted down the hall toward Lily’s room.

The door was halfway open, but I still felt the need to knock.

“Entrez-vous,” was the sing-song reply.

“Hey, Lily,” I greeted, stepping inside her room. It was almost identical to the one I was staying in except the walls were a minty green instead of tan.

“Oh . . . hey, Rowen,” she said, spinning in her desk chair. “I thought you were mom.”

“Am I interrupting you? I can come back later.” I hitched my thumb at the door and stepped toward it. She had a couple books spread over the desk and a pencil behind her ear.

“No, an interruption was exactly what I needed. If I have to conjugate one more French verb, I’m going to go voulez-vous crazy.”

“French verbs?” I wrinkled my nose. “It’s summer break. Why are you doing anything that resembles homework?”

“I’m one of those unfortunate few who goes to school year round,” she said, not sounding the least bit devastated.

“Why?” I’d known the summer school kids—I’d been one of them—and Lily didn’t fit the profile.

“Mom home schools us, so other than Sundays, a week in the winter, and a week in the summer, the Walker kids are in ‘class’ every day. Except for Jesse. He graduated last summer from Willow Springs High.” Lily smiled at me in a girlish way. That, combined with the side braids and makeup-free face, made her seem a few years younger.

“What are you going to do after you graduate?” I asked, obviously not understanding the way it worked out there. Everything seemed a little backward compared to where I came from, yet it also made some sense.

“I want to go to one of the state schools and work on getting my veterinary medicine degree,” she said, her eyes glowing. “Specializing in large animal.”

“I imagine that profession is in high demand out here.” I was impressed. The girl had goals and didn’t look the least bit concerned she wouldn’t achieve them.

She bobbed her head. “Willow Springs alone could keep me employed full-time. I grew up with so many cattle and horses I feel like I’m already halfway to becoming a vet.”

“I bet you are.”

Her smile grew. “How was your day? Do you never want to see another bottle of laundry detergent for the rest of your life?”

“For the rest of this life and my next,” I said. “That’s actually kind of the reason I wanted to talk with you.”

Lily sat up in her seat. “Do you want me to give you a hand tomorrow? I’m sure mom wouldn’t mind once I get my other chores—”

I lifted my hand. “Thank you, but I was actually wondering if I could borrow some clothes? I can’t spend another day in that place.”

Lily hopped out of her chair. “I totally don’t blame you, and of course you can borrow some clothes. What do you need?” She slid her closet door open and swept her arms through its contents.

“Whatever you think I need,” I said, peering inside the closet. “I’m officially in unchartered territory.” I ran my eyes down my body. “Obviously.”

Sorting through a few pairs of jeans, Lily pulled a couple of the newer looking ones off their hangers. “These ought to work,” she said and slid a few T-shirts free. “Here you go. Will these be all right?” She handed me the heap of clothing and waited.

“These will work great,” I said, studying the shirts and jeans in my arms. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn sky blue, the color of one of the shirts she’d handed me. Sky blue. The color of a certain pair of eyes who saw too much when they looked at me.

I gave my head a shake. “Thanks, Lily. You’re pretty great, you know that?”

From her expression, I couldn’t have given her a bigger compliment.

“I’ll let you get back to your homework.” I flashed her a smile before heading for the door with my Willow Springs-approved borrowed wardrobe.

“Rowen?”

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

“Did that hurt when you had it done?” Lily asked, glancing at my eyebrow.

“A little. But I’ve experienced a lot worse.”

Lily gave me a nod and a smile. “I wish I could be more like you. You’re so confident in who you are.”

I had to look away from her eyes full of admiration. “I don’t know who I am, Lily. I’m just really good at pretending.” Then, because I couldn’t say or hear another “deep” word, I darted out of her room.

Hyacinth and Clementine must have also been busy with homework because the hall was quiet. After shutting myself inside my room, I dropped my armful of clothes on the foot of my bed and wandered to the window. It was warm up there, and if the old house had air-conditioning, it certainly wasn’t on.

As soon as I whooshed the window open, I understood why. The days might have been warm, but the nights were almost chilly. Fresh, cool air flooded the room, and in less than a minute, the hot air was gone. I headed over to the dresser, grabbed my sketchbook and pencil, and wandered back to the window. A few minutes of losing myself on a blank white page sounded like just the way to end the day.

As I lowered my pencil to the paper, my eyes shifted to the barn, where a warm, yellow light flooded from its open doors. The pencil dropped from my fingers.

Jesse stood in the bed of his old truck, parked just outside the wide doors, heaving huge bags of something onto the barn floor. The white shirt he’d slipped into in the laundry room wasn’t clean anymore. I started to understand why the washing machines ran non-stop at Willow Springs.

The bed of his truck was stacked high and wide with bags about the same size as me. Jesse lifted each one, threw it over his shoulder, and walked it to the tailgate as he had my bag. Like those bags were filled with packing popcorn. Farm work obviously gave a person superhuman strength and, from what I’d witnessed earlier from my spy spot on the laundry room floor, superhuman muscles as well. He wasn’t even breathing heavily.

Yeah, the way my heart started hammering in my chest and the way my whole body went all tingly was pretty much the opposite of winding down.

Jesse had just tossed another bag onto the ground when he froze. His whole body went wire straight right before he started to twist around.

“Crap,” I hissed, dropping to the floor as fast as gravity allowed me. He knew I’d been watching him . . . spying on him. He knew.

Jesse was as hardwired to me as I was to him and, right then, that scared me more than anything else. I didn’t like letting people get close. I didn’t want them to see past the smoke and mirrors.

I stayed cowered down on the floor for so long, I fell asleep there. My dreams that night, as always, were in black and white.

Another soft rapping on the door. Another groan from me. I sensed a routine forming.

“Rowen?” Lily’s voice was just as timid as it had been yesterday morning. And by morning, I mean butt crack of dawn. “Rise and shine time.”

I groaned and attempted to peel myself from the floor. The carpet was practically pasted to my cheek. “I will rise, but I do not shine,” I croaked as I stood. “Even if I did, I sure as heck wouldn’t this early.”

Lily laughed a few soft notes. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Yay,” I said with a hefty dose of sarcasm. Before shuffling over to the dresser, I took a quick peek out the window. Jesse and his truck were long gone, and the barn was dark. After peeling out of the clothes I’d slept in, I grabbed the first jeans and shirt my hands touched. Lily was a couple inches shorter than me and a rail, so the jeans were tight—Jesse’s jeans tight—and the tee fit kind of snugly, too. At least I’d have more than Maytag and Whirlpool to keep me company. Wearing tight, uncomfortable country digs was worth it.

I was sure my black boots looked ridiculous with the rest of my get-up, but the other shoes I’d brought would have looked even weirder. A quick mirror check revealed I was a mess. A hot, crazy-haired one. Not wasting any time, I undid my braid from yesterday, tore a brush through my unruly hair, then re-braided it. I wiped away the smears of what was left from yesterday, but I didn’t apply any more makeup. It was too early, I was too tired, and I doubted if Midnight Scarlet lipstick paired well with a simple, sky blue tee.

Great. I had on that tee. Talk about a Freudian slip . . .

I flipped off my reflection before leaving the room. A peek inside each of the girls’ rooms showed them empty, beds made, and no clothes dotting the carpet. I was less and less surprised by that sort of things when it came to the Walkers.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I found it much the same as it had been yesterday morning. Rose and the girls were all busy prepping something for breakfast, zipping around the room like little worker bees.

When Rose spun away from the fridge, she smiled when she took me in. “I think we just put a little bit of country in this girl,” she said, setting a couple cartons of eggs on the counter.

I made a non-committal motion with my hand. “Here I am. Put me to work.” The girls stopped what they were doing to check me out, too. They weren’t as good at hiding their surprise.

I gave Lily a What do you think? look, and she flashed me a thumbs up. She was infinitely more sure about the way I looked than I was.

“Have you ever made pancakes before, Rowen?” Rose asked, waving me over with a spatula.

“Not exactly,” I said, eyeing the frying pan suspiciously. “But I’ve eaten my fair share.”

“Then that qualifies you. Come on over,” she said, stepping aside to give me the front and center position. “Clementine already mixed the batter up, so all you need to do is pour it onto the griddle, flip them, and throw them onto the platter.”

Clementine waved at me from where she was whipping up something else. A seven-year-old was kicking my ass in the home economics department. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud of myself or ashamed.

“Do you have a diagram or directions I can follow?” I asked as Rose handed me the spatula ceremoniously. “Because this is not going to be pretty.”

Holding up her finger, she turned to the griddle. “Ladle. Scoop.” She grabbed the ladle and scooped out a full serving of batter. “Pour.” The batter sizzled as it hit the griddle surface. “Repeat.” She was pouring another ladleful, then four more, before I blinked. “Flip.” She flicked the spatula in my hand, patted my cheek, then went back to her eggs. “Ladle. Scoop. Pour. Repeat. Flip.”

“Burn,” I said, studying the six pancakes as though they were a puzzle. “Fail.”

As I was about to attempt to flip a pancake, Hyacinth shouldered up beside me. She smiled as she nudged me. “Wait until tiny bubbles surface around the outside before you flip them.”

It wasn’t even dawn, and I’d already learned something new.

“Thanks,” I replied, matching her smile before she got back to work pulling plates out of a cabinet. They used plates? Real plates they had to wash? Along with air conditioning, paper plates must not have made their way to the Walkers’ corner of the world yet.

I turned my attention back to the pancakes, watching them so intently I don’t think I blinked once. The second those bubbles started popping to the surface, I wielded my spatula and flipped the first pancake.

It was a proud moment. Not only had I managed to flip it without getting batter all over the place, the cooked side was a perfect golden brown. If that was all there was to cooking, I had it down. No problem.

I repeated the process with the other five; all were a beautiful golden brown. As soon as I let myself get a little cocky, like I was the modern day Betty Crocker, the kitchen door to the porch flew open. Goosebumps trailed up my spine. I hadn’t yet turned my head, but I was as sure the person who’d just stepped into the kitchen was Jesse as I was sure the air in the kitchen had gotten a little thin.

“First one to breakfast,” Lily said in a teasing voice. “Big surprise.”

“It’s not my fault the rest of the guys like to sleep in ‘til the last possible minute. I’ve been up for an hour checking the new calves, and I’m hungry. I’m a growing boy.” I willed myself to stare at the pancakes. I willed myself to not let his voice get to me. I willed myself to be unaffected by his presence.

I wasn’t very willful.

My body twisted around of its own accord, and my eyes locked on his at the same time his locked on mine.

Jesse. Smile. Dimples. Jeans. Hat.

I grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from wavering.

“Look at you,” he said, hanging his hat on one of the pegs sticking out of the wall. I guessed they were for hanging hats. Lots of hats. He headed my way, rumpling Clementine’s hair as he walked by her. Toward me. Where I braced myself against a countertop to keep from passing out. “Country looks good on you, Rowen.” Jesse ran his eyes down me before stopping a few feet in front of me. When he glanced down at my shoes, his smile pulled higher. He was in his standard blood-cutting-off jeans, boots, and hat, but he had on a tan Carhartt jacket over yet another clean white tee. How many of those things did he go through in a day?

“And silence might look good on you if you ever gave it a try,” I threw back, right before I realized four other people were in the room. Four women who had stopped what they were doing to watch the two of us with rapt interest.

Catching Rose’s stare, I shrugged. “Your son likes to talk. He really likes to talk,” I added, remembering all the things he’d said in the past few days. The frequency of his words wasn’t really the issue; it was the power behind them.

Rose studied the two of us for another moment, almost like she was trying to put her finger on something, before getting back to cracking eggs into a skillet. “Breakfast in five, girls. Get movin’.”

Just like that, Jesse’s sisters’ attention moved from us back to breakfast.

“How are those pancakes coming along?” Jesse asked, leaning closer to inspect the skillet.

“Swimmingly,” I replied, checking them. No bubbles yet.

He moved a little closer. So close, I could tell he’d recently taken a shower. He still smelled like soap and shampoo. “You really do look nice, you know,” he said, his voice quieter.

I huffed. “Really? Because you seemed to be a pretty big fan of that outfit I wore yesterday.” My mind flashed with the memory of him catching me checking him out.

“That was pretty great, you’re right.” His eyes told me he was reliving the memory of me on all fours. “But this look appeals to me in a different way.”

I did a quick check of the kitchen to make sure no one was paying us any attention. “In what way?”

“In a quid pro quo kind of way.”

I rolled my eyes. Apparently someone had gotten an A in Willow Springs English. “Why’s that?”

“Because every time you make fun of how tightly my jeans hug my backside, I can throw the same thing right back at you.”

I didn’t need to look to confirm he was inspecting my backside. Lily’s borrowed jeans suddenly seemed to be squeezing the hell out of my ass.

“Don’t you have some cows to milk or something?” I elbowed his stomach. Yep, it was just as hard as it’d been last night.

Jesse laughed and shook his head. “We’re not a dairy farm here, Rowen. We’re a beef ranch.”

Sorry, I didn’t speak hick. His chuckling unsettled me in a couple different ways.

“Then maybe you could go unload another truckload of ginormous bags.” A clamp for my mouth would have so come in handy.

“So that was you spying on me again last night,” he said, his voice so damn confident. “I knew someone was watching me, and I figured it was you.”

I glared at those six pancakes. Still no bubbles. “And why would you figure it was me?”

“Well, you know,” he said.

“No, I don’t know.”

He leaned his hip into the counter. “Given your track record of spying on me.”

“For Pete’s sake,” I said, tempted to dump the bowl of batter over his head. “I wasn’t spying on you in the laundry room. I was hiding from you.”

“You were hiding from me?” He crossed his arms.

I nodded.

“And what about last night when you were watching me from your window? Were you hiding from me then?” My hands actually moved for the batter bowl.

“I had 911 on standby in case you keeled over from a heart attack lifting one of those suckers,” I snapped back. “It was my civic duty. Now, if you’re done harassing me for one morning, I’ve got some pancakes to attend to.”

Jesse glanced at the pancakes, and he looked like he was about to bust up laughing before he caught himself. “I’m done harassing you for one morning. But do you think it’d be all right if I offered a heartfelt apology?”

Say what?

I studied his face to see if it was some kind of trick to get me to continue battling it out with him, but his expression was flat. His eyes clear.

“Proceed,” I said with a wave of my magic spatula.

Jesse sucked in a breath before proceeding. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. I had no right to stick my nose into your business and start making assumptions about your life.” His words flowed with such ease it seemed he’d rehearsed them. “I’ve only known you a couple of days. That’s not long at all. I don’t know you well enough to pretend like I know you and your problems. But I want to know you. I want to know your problems. That is . . . if you want to know me.”

One corner of my mouth pulled up. Luckily, it was on the side he couldn’t see. Jesse could make one hell of an apology. I had to give him that.

But I couldn’t let him off so easily.

“Why do you want to know me better?” I said, checking the outlet to make sure the griddle was still plugged in because those suckers were not bubbling. “So you can tease me more specifically? So you can expose my weakness and take advantage of it?”

Jesse moved a step closer. I felt his upper half against my side. I grabbed the ledge of the counter again. “So when I ask you on a date, I’ll know where to take you to really impress you.” His mouth was so close to my ear I felt the warmth of his breath.

I whipped my head around to meet his eyes. Damn. He was dead serious. His gaze drifted to my mouth right as the kitchen door flew open again.

“Save some of the food for us, Jesse!” a man’s voice ordered good-naturedly as a staggered line of men in hats and boots streamed into the kitchen.

Jesse stepped away from me, but he didn’t look away. Before turning toward the table, he tilted his chin at me. “Check those pancakes. I think they’re smoking.” His dimples set into his cheeks. “What can I say? I have that effect on things.”