Page 14 of His Pickle Her Jam

“You look, um, nice today, Jan,” I told her as I placed her supplies on the counter opposite where I’d already dropped some of mine.

I knew something had happened after the night we kissed. Something to make her distrust me. I didn’t know what exactly, but I was trying to be nice.

Sure, we were competitors, but that didn’t mean we were enemies.

Looking at her in her little dress with pink flowers scattered across it, I sure didn’t want to be her enemy.

“Thanks. And you, well, you got some spicy Crocs on there, Buckeroo,” she returned, smirking at me.

“Buckeroo?” I looked down at my feet and laughed.

“Don’t blame me. I didn’t give you that horrible nickname.”

“Horrible nickname?” I asked, barking a laugh.

This woman. I swear, I never met anyone like her. She always said exactly what she was thinking without consequence. But that was just Jan.

No pretense. No games. No lies.

So fucking hot.

“You know what? I’m not going to argue with you over that. Anyway, uh, my first pair of Crocs was a gift. After I tried them, I found they’re surprisingly comfortable and I have like four dozen of them now,” I explained.

“Look, I’m sorry for teasing you about your Crocs and your nickname,” she murmured, surprising me again.

A dimple played at the corner of her mouth, and I watched her bite her lip. Jan’s stunning amber eyes peeked shyly at me from beneath her thick, dark lashes, making my heart slam against my ribs.

She was so pretty, and I was fucking speechless.

Me. The guy who was told he had more game than the New York Knicks was rendered mute by a curvy little woman with big eyes and a killer smile.

“I know a lot of people don’t like them, but I get the attraction. Trust me,” she said, and slid her foot out of her sandal.

I looked down, confused for a second about what we were talking about. Then I saw the tiny label on her shoe, and I grinned, too.

“Oh shit, those are Crocs? I didn’t know they made flip flops.”

“Oh yeah. They make a lot of different shoes. And even though I really like busting your chops, my conscience wouldn’t let me leave it at that. So, yes, I also like the brand, and I’ve got more than a few pairs in my closet at home,” she confessed with an adorable shrug.

“That’s very big of you, Jan.”

I was grinning at her, watching her face flit from annoyed to amused. Damn, but I liked it when her amber eyes sparkled, and her plump lips quirked up into a teasing smile.

She was so pretty when she was happy, and it seemed teasing me made her happy.

I licked my lips, ignoring the urge to adjust my hardening dick. It seemed her teasing made me, uh, happy too.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. As of right now, you and me are on opposite sides of this thing. Sworn enemies,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I don’t know about that, Pretty Girl,” I murmured as I went to retrieve her last box.

Enemies had a way of becoming something else at the height of battle.

Unless I was way off base, there was something more than rivalry between Jan Morrow and me.

And that was something I was very interested in pursuing.

CHAPTER SIX-BUCK

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