Page 7 of A Little More

Lexi looked around the vast warehouse. “Walk me through what you want your visitors to experience.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against a metal railing that ran down the aisle of the machines. “I’m not sure where to start. Have you seen a cotton bale?”

She pressed her lips together. Sounding stupid was a pet peeve, but she didn’t have a choice. “Is it like a bale of hay?”

“Yes. The cotton comes into the gin in large modules. It’s weighed and tagged.” He pointed to another end of the facility. “When it’s time to process, it’s dried and cleaned. Then it goes through the gin.”

“That’s the machine behind you?”

He nodded. Gray machine towers towered above them, almost to the ceiling. “It moves through here, separating the cotton lint from the cotton seeds. The lint is baled again, weighed again, and sent to the warehouse where it waits to be shipped out to textile mills.” Nash crossed his arms. “The gin constantly operates while the cotton’s coming in. We see about sixty thousand bales of cotton coming through here.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“It is.”

She continued to pepper him with questions, trying hard not to fan herself in the heat built up in the warehouse. Another thing she’d never get used to. The almost fifteen-degree difference between Atlanta and Statem. How did they live in the same state?

“Did you get all the pictures you needed?” he asked as he led her out of the gin. “I can stick around if you want more. My friend Dewey said he’d run the farm today while I took you ‘round.”

“I got enough.” And managed to only walk into one railing when not paying attention. Her physical response to Nash irritated her. The fact she’d completely zoned outtwiceon what he said while examining his tan skin and give-a-damn smile. A lesser woman would make a move. He didn’t wear a wedding ring. And either he was flirting with her, or she misread his signals. Didn’t matter.

“Hello?” A female voice called from the far end of the warehouse. Nash’s face, if possible, lost some of its tan. “Nash, honey?” The distinct tap of high heels came toward them.

A woman turned the corner and calling her a woman was generous. Based on the length of her shorts and the low cut of her tank top, not to mention her baby doll face, Lexi hoped she was at least eighteen. The cowboy boots with kitten heels, pink designs around the top of the brown leather, made her look like Ellie Mae Clampett meets Daisy Duke and they were headed to Las Vegas for a girls’ weekend.

“Oh. I didn’t expect you to have company.” The girl pouted, her shimmering pink bottom lip sticking out. Nash had yet to look at the woman. He stared at the floor or the ceiling or at Lexi.

“Not sure how you would’ve known, Gina. This is a business meeting, so…”

Gina stuck her hand out to Lexi. “Just like a boy to forget his manners. I’m Gina.”

Lexi returned her handshake. “I’m Lexi.”

“What kind of business are you in?” She laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t look like you’d be in the ginnin’ business.”

“No, I’m not,” Lexi said, waiting for Nash to jump in. He never did. “I’m an architect.”

Her brows drew together, and she popped her gum. “Architect?”

Nash sighed loudly, finally glancing, briefly, at Gina. “She’s here to design the new store.”

“You’re from Atlanta? Daddy said that Nash went and spent way too much for someone to do what anyone could do. Said you were a flat waste of money.”

“Gina.” Nash’s low warning was unmistakable. Even Gina seemed to get the message.

She popped her gum again. “Fine. I came by because you promised me a trip to the movies.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her mouth dropped open, but she giggled and swatted at him. “You’re such a tease.”

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, standing there long enough that Lexi took the bait and looked up, too. Nothing but metal rafters.

“Nash,” Lexi began. His eyes squeezed closed a moment before opening them looking at her. His jaw bunched tight. The cords along his neck jumped. His shoulders tensed. Seeing him angry, or at least really irritated, at Gina reinforced his lack of interest in the girl. She shouldn’t be happy about that. She shouldn’t care.

Lexi smiled, hoping to break the tension. “I think I should head back to Atlanta.”

His anger, or frustration, intensified if that was possible.

---