Page 18 of A Touch of Spring Magic

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never did share well with others.”

“This is my home. My land. My job.” Okay, she did sound like an entitled snot. Storm, no, Brent had always brought out her competitive streak something fierce.

Brent smiled wider, hands up in surrender. “Not here to poach your audition for a new reality show about dirty occupations.”

Dirty. For some reason that word slapped her mind back to the summer before college when she’d seen Storm up on a ladder outside her parents’ house, doing some repair work, when she’d glimpsed a sliver of his tanned abs between his worn-thin Luke Bryan concert T-shirt and his brown work pants with a strip of his red plaid boxers peeking out. When he’d turned and seen her, he’d lifted his shirt to wipe his sweaty face, and she’d seen the full eight-pack, which until that moment she’d believed was a myth, and she’d been struck stupid. Always considered smooth, Jessica had spilled her sweet sun tea down her front, soaking and ruining her new white T-shirt with the ruffled sleeves.

His throaty ‘hey’ had practically melted her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

She snapped herself back into the present where she intended to stay. “My sisters work fast.”

“Persuasive, was the word I was thinking of.”

That was the last thing she needed. He didn’t look any happier to be here than she felt about his arrival.

“I’ll save us time. I don’t need help in my own garden. I have a plan.”

Best defense was a strong offense, right? She bent down and dragged up more debris that had long ago smothered the plants that were supposed to be in the pond and destroyed the filtration system. She splatted the stinking mass on the growing pile on the side of the pond.

The smell and squishy sound turned even her strong stomach.

“I underestimated you,” he said quietly.

“About what this time?”

He hesitated. Jessica, her feet and calves numb in the waders, pulled out more gunk and told herself that it was good he was seeing her at her worst. She didn’t have to play the brainy beauty queen anymore. She was building a new life. Her life. The way she wanted it, but of course, internally she was cringing that she was filthy. Stinking. Her mother would be horrified, and yes she still cared. More than she should.

“You want a list?”

“You were allergic to lists,” she recalled.

“No. Only yours.”

Wow. Hot and honest and just as sure of himself as he’d always been. “I’m busy. If you’ve come to gloat, do it quietly.”

“When Sarah called…” he began.

“Sarah?” Jessica tugged and tugged at a particularly stubborn chunk of the duckweed interspersed with millweed and once beautiful pond lilies. “I thought Grandma Millie would be leading the charge. She always does.”

“Chloe was first. She and Rustin double-teamed me on FaceTime.”

Jessica tried to swallow her irritation and failed. “My family means well.” She bit out each syllable, and he barked a laugh.

“Is this one of those bless her hearts?”

Jessica hated that he almost made her smile.

“Miss Millie hit me up this afternoon and invited me to an early afternoon tea to catch up and discuss my goals.”

Jessica winced. “I’m sure Meghan must be in a long meeting but sounds like you’re on her list. You’ve been Mayed.”

“Not the first time.”

“Let’s make it your last. Really Brent. This is important to me. The project needs to be mine.”

“So I heard.”

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