Page 29 of A Touch of Spring Magic

“Isn’t that what you’re doing with the farm and the garden and the greenhouses and the nursery?”

He made it sound so black and white.

She nibbled on her lip. “Look we had a history of being frenemies and then friends and then nothing.”

“Ouch,” he deadpanned, and she relaxed. She hadn’t hurt him like she thought. Maybe she had been too arrogant all those years ago thinking she was all that, and that he was falling for her instead of the ruse they’d concocted.

“But we’re so over high school. We’re professionals. Adults. Surely we can put our differences and our past aside and both get what we want.”

“I want to. I do,” she admitted. “But it’s hard to trust.”

“You’re doubting me?”

He sounded so offended, but how did she explain that she was doubting herself?

“I was never the game player, Jessica Maye.”

Who was he kidding? “Your whole life was one game or another.”

“Team sports,” he said, his lips so tight they’d snap his teeth if he wasn’t careful.

Jessica may have been the head cheerleader in high school, and her sorority president her senior year of college, but she’d never been a true team player.

“You’re right. This isn’t going to work.”

“You’re not giving it a chance just like—” He broke off and ran a hand through his hair.

She felt like she’d swallowed a stone. So he hadn’t forgotten high school as much as he pretended he had.

And you have?

Jessica had been on the lookout for betrayal as long as she could remember. Being the cream and cherry on top of the social pyramid in a small Southern town wasn’t for the faint of heart. Nor had the social ladder been an easy-breezy climb at Chapel Hill. And gaining the coveted internship and then the job at her former firm? That had been a dogfight in heels and lipstick and blush.

“I knew you’d try to take over.”

“You’ve always been a gunner, Jay. You can hold your own if you stop running away.”

That stung—mostly because it was true. She was running from herself, from the pleaser, from the fear of failure, from her parents’ disappointment, but she also needed to run toward something, and the nursery was her stand. She couldn’t have thin skin.

“Okay,” she repeated, not even sure what she was agreeing to—not being suspicious? Trusting that she wouldn’t cede control?

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m just a little sensitive right now,” she surprised herself by admitting. “I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of years. Planning, but the scale of work is daunting, and I wasn’t planning on throwing a big garden bash a couple of months after losing my job.”

She had no idea what he was thinking. A million thoughts seemed to play across his beautiful eyes and handsome, wide-open face.

“You were always out in front,” he said. “Charging ahead.”

“So go big or go home is what you’re saying.”

“Thinking it. Life’s all about making adjustments.”

“Punting.” She smiled, as that was one sports analogy she could handle as she’d been a varsity high school cheerleader for three years. “So we’ll figure out a plan together, but I’m still the boss.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Not funny. Don’t ma’am me until I’m my mom’s age.”

“Okay, Jay. Your way.”

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