Page 41 of You Had Me at Chocolate

He chuckled trying not to think about Clementine in a twinset, her hair in a bun, peering over the glasses perched on the end of her nose as she scolded him.

Clearing his throat—and his filthy mind—he said, “That’s such a great offer, thank you. But… I don’t want to take time away from your mom.”

“I’ll have more time now that she’s in Marietta and it’ll give me something to do. Plus, I love research.”

“I remember. You used to send me those factoids about the multitude of crane species in your letters.”

She grinned. “That was fun.”

The glow in Jude’s chest intensified and he found it difficult to breathe for a moment. Being attracted to Clementine was one thing but this feeling was deeper than that. Deeper than friendship, too, and that was veering into dangerous territory. “Okay, how about this?” he suggested, desperate to get on an even footing. “I could pay you. As a research assistant.”

Jude congratulated himself on the idea. Money was a sure-fire way to kill feelings and, as she’d briefly mentioned last week that was what her job in New York involved, it was perfect. Plus, this way he could compensate her for putting him up rent free.

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head. Her response was vehement but not angry.

“I’m good for it you know,” he teased. “And you should be paid for something like this.”

He wasn’t sure what her financial situation was but she obviously had enough to tide her over until she started in New York, because he couldn’t imagine her not planning for that. Unless she’d been factoring in the sale of her house, which had been put on hold.

“Don’t be a dork. You’ve been a personal chef to me and Dad for the last month. I imagine something like that costs a bomb out in the real world. Consider it payback.”

He laughed at the dork as he turned into the parking area. “No way. I’m living in your house rent free and it’s been a pleasure to cook for you guys.” Jude turned into the parking area. “I don’t need payback.”

“And neither do I. It will be my pleasure to research for you. Seriously, I’m kinda excited about it to be honest.”

She bounced a little in his peripheral vision, the streak of anticipation in her voice was a mile wide. He laughed again and shook his head. “Dork.”

“Yes, sir.” She shot him an unashamed grinned. “That’s me.”

Alighting the vehicle a minute later, they joined what appeared to be half of Marietta in the farm shop. Everyone greeted Clementine with such warmth as they wandered past stands bursting with produce from buckets of apples and ears of corn to pots of mums and, of course, pumpkins.

It was clear her mom was much loved as people stopped to ask after her, eager for an update from Clementine. Sensing his superfluousness and the speculative gazes coming his way, Jude left her to it and set about grabbing a variety of different produce, holding the different pumpkins up for Clementine’s approval. She nodded or shook her head but didn’t stop chatting.

Once he had a dozen of varying sizes, as they’d discussed on the trip to the farm, he had grabbed some mums and some apples—tarte tatin for dinner tonight—and paid for the purchases taking them to the car and loading them into the trunk. Clementine was still talking to a small gathering of women when he was done although her smile was looking more polite now than appreciative and when she glanced at him her eyes definitely telescoped a get me out of here message.

Jude was totally up for that job.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, sweeping in and interrupting the conversation. “But I need Clementine.”

That sure stopped the conversation in its tracks as five women stared at him owlishly. Clementine pressed her lips together clearly trying to stop herself from laughing.

“I have a jack-o’-lantern dilemma only she can help me with.” He held out his hand and she took it with a demure, “Excuse me everyone,” her eyes sparking with humor.

It wasn’t until they were outside and walking toward the pumpkin fields that Clementine let go of his hand with a laugh. “That was very wicked. They’re going to think we’re a couple now.”

Jude shrugged as nonchalantly as he could as the thought wormed into his brain. “Let them. We know the truth.”

They were friends. Just friends. Jude figured if he said it often enough he’d talk himself into it. Or at least put those feelings firmly back in their place.

“Says a guy who’s spent years living in enormous cities.” She shook her head. “Anyway… let’s get the biggest pumpkin we can and make the entire street jealous of our jack-o’-lantern.”

Grateful for a change in topic, his competitive nature spurred to life. “I am for that.”

They approached a guy who looked to be in his seventies. Jude assumed he was the farmer as Clementine called him by name. “Winston, we want your biggest, fattest, orange-est pumpkin,” she declared.

The older man’s smile was big and wide. “I got just the one, Clem. Follow me.”

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