Page 25 of A Little More

“I think you shouldn’t discredit her before you give her the option.”

“It about killed me when I gave up the farm and left to go to Jacksonville.” The memory burned in his chest, and he took a deep breath. “And then again to know choosing to come home when dad was sick meant I’d give up on my marriage. Giving up on vows I gave. I couldn’t please anyone. Now, I’m home. The damage is done. I’m not leaving again. Not to Atlanta. Not to the next county.” He drained the last of his coffee. “And not for Lexi.”

“But look at Cameron. He found that sweet girl, Addie, after Jennifer dumped him. There’s hope for you, too.”

“Cameron didn’t give up his entire life and future for Jennifer.” He pushed away from the table. Not even his mom’s disappointment would change his mind. He’d told Lexi nothing permanent. He wouldn’t drive up and down the road that far to maintain a relationship while letting his farm and store suffer. Not again. If anything happened between them now, she’d been warned. His mom could dream all she wanted. He’d enjoy his time with Lexi while he had it and would walk away at the end.

The morning showerhad been pointless. It was only eleven and already close to ninety-five degrees. It was the end of April for crying out loud. She’d have to take another shower before their meeting after lunch, presenting herself like a professional in front of Julien and not a sweaty wrestler with melting makeup.

“The flood plain that’s behind that line of trees means that we’ll need to move the front of the property about fifty feet closer to the road.” John O’Connor, the engineer, drawing up the blueprints, spread a large map along with the surveyor’s results over the tailgate of Nash’s truck. The truck Lexi had driven under Nash’s watchful eye while he rode behind her on the tractor. Her triumph was short-lived when Nash announced that the tractor could have driven faster.

John pointed to the map. “They had a flood back in 1994 that almost crested over the embankment. We can still build right here, but we need to take a few precautions.”

“I guess we don’t have a choice then. I’ll talk to landscaping and see about putting up a row of low hedges, try to create a little bit of sound buffering. Can we keep the playground where it is? I’d like to keep that area as far away from the road.” She remembered almost stumbling into the street on her first trip and the feel of Nash’s arms around her. Strong arms that she’d thought about most of last night. She cleared her throat. “The highway can be a little dangerous.”

“I don’t see why not.” He scribbled and drew on the rough draft of the building plans. “This construction won’t bother whoever lives on the other side of the trees, will it? I saw a house on the opposite hill this morning when I walked the property line.”

“Nash lives there.”

John’s eyebrows raised. “You managed to score a ticket to go in and see the property yet?”

“I’ve asked.”

John was the only person who knew her serious interest in restoring properties. With each house she’d found, she’d bribed him with free babysitting services to get his opinion on the structural components she wasn’t as confident in assessing. She wanted an old house but one that wouldn’t crumble around her.

“Let me know if you want me to take a look.” He grinned, his beard almost touching his wide chest. “My anniversary is coming up. I’d like to take my wife on a date.”

“You can drop your son off anyway, John. All he does is watch television.” And eat. Man, eight-year-old little boys could eat. Her eyes tracked to Nash, up high on a tractor while it cut the field. He was probably like John’s son with food when he was little. She’d never seen a man eat as much as Nash did and still be in great shape.

Half her brain listened to John while the other half remained transfixed on Nash riding the tractor. A worn pair of blue jeans, a dirty white tee-shirt, and a scuffed pair of work boots shouldn’t have elicited a dozen different reasons to not care about her company’s policy.

And Julien was due in a couple of hours.

The memory of the moment in the kitchen resurfaced. That sinful way he looked at her before announcing, like it was an everyday conversation, that he didn’t want anything permanent. She could only assume that meant he wanted something temporary.

What would that be? A fling? An affair?

Nash wanting her any way made the simple butterflies in her stomach turn to dragonflies. No matter how many daydreams of what it might be like to be held by him, and not when he had to rescue her from becoming roadkill, she had to remember that some things in life were impossible. Like finding wine without calories or a dryer that folded clothes, dating a client fell right into that impossible category. She couldn’t have Nash and keep her job.

“Did you need Nash to make this decision? I can grab him, so we can get the position of the building squared away before Julien comes down later this afternoon.” If John suspected something and mentioned it to Julien, she’d be in massive trouble.

“Yes,” she said, hoping her smile camouflaged anything else he might have noticed while she’d openly checked out her client. “I think he’ll agree, but he likes to be brought in on the decisions.”

Lie. Nash didn’t give a crap about the decisions. Almost everything she’d done he’d gone along with. John took long steps across the high grass toward the tractor. Nash stopped as soon as he saw him approach and climbed down, wiping his hands on a rag before shoving it back into his back pocket.

Dating in Atlanta was incredibly orchestrated. The same routine with attractive men that respected her as a professional. Two people with mutual interests having nice meals and sharing taxis. None of the fire, passion, swirling through her blood as he started toward her.

Nash was a lesson in how to saunter across a field. If she could make the vision move in slow motion, he’d fit in with some of the country music videos she’d watched late last night. It was the only thing she could find to watch on Ms. Peggy’s television when she couldn’t get to sleep.

Although, in her personal music video, he didn’t stop a respectable three feet away. He’d walk up to her, kiss her, pressing his body against hers and letting everything building between them explode. And, since it was a video and her daydream, a light rain would start to fall, and somehow, she’d look sexy and not like a drowned cat—

“Lexi?” Nash’s face took up her vision. “Are you okay? Do you want me to run and get you some water?”

She did feel a little lightheaded, but she wasn’t thirsty. It was from imagining his rough hands holding her tight. What the hell had gotten into her? The heat. It had to be the heat.

John shifted into his “dad” voice. “You look a little disoriented. Did you eat this morning?” He began fanning her with his clipboard.

“She had chocolate milk,” Nash answered for her.

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