Page 238 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
In my periphery, I see Toby pounce on another leaf, chasing it when it catches on the breeze and swirls into the air.
Lennox follows my gaze. “He seems to really like it here.”
I let out a little laugh. “You mean minus the bears?”
He grins. “Speaking of bears. Thank you for the gift.”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling shy. “I hope you like it.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. “It’s perfect.”
Nope.He’s perfect. Ridiculously, perfectly perfect.
Another sharp wind blows, and Lennox looks to the sky. “They say a snowstorm is coming next week.”
I wrap my arms around my middle and sink down a little further into Lennox’s scarf, which—oh, mercy,it smells so much like him. A little herby, with hints of citrus and sandalwood. I could breathe this in all day and never get tired of it.
“Is snow in March normal?” I ask, wanting to prolong the conversation despite the golf ball-sized goosebumps popping up on my legs. I shift my feet and take another sip of Lennox’s coffee. “There are blooms on the apple trees—I saw them when I was walking Toby the other day. I guess I thought it meant spring was pretty much here.”
“It’s a little late for snow, but it’s happened before.” He moves to the door, his hand resting on the handle. “Come on. Even with my stolen coffee to warm you up, your teeth are going to start chattering if we don’t get you inside.”
I don’t miss the way he sayswe,or the way it makes my insides flop around when he does. I really like the sound ofwe.
“The coffee is delicious, thank you.”
“Yeah,” Lennox says on a laugh. “I know.”
I whistle for Toby, who, as if sensing his audience, takes the long way back to the steps so he can pee in Lennox’s garden one more time.
Lennox eyes me, a dubious expression on his face.
“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s peeing on actual vegetables,” I say. “It’s just dirt. How much harm can he really do?”
“It isn’t about the vegetables,” Lennox argues. “Eventually, he’ll impact the pH of the soil, which will matter when we plant next month.”
“We, huh? You do the planting yourself?” The remark comes out snarkier than it should because it absolutely wouldn’t surprise me if Lennox does the planting. Especially not after seeing him wield a rifle like some mountain wilderness versionof Jack Ryan. The man grew up here. Of course he knows how to garden.
Before Lennox can answer me, another car pulls into the parking lot, and Toby darts off the landing like he’s the official Stonebrook employee welcoming committee.
“Oh geez,” I say, casting another glance down at my wardrobe. “I really don’t want anyone else to see me like this. Why is everyone getting here so early today?”
“It’s deep cleaning day,” Lennox says. “The rest of my staff will be here soon. Here.” He opens the door for me. “You go on in. I’ll get Toby and bring him up to you.”
I don’t even hesitate as I dart inside and into the stairwell as Lennox closes the door behind me. I’m halfway up the steps when I hear Lennox’s laughter ringing just on the other side of the exterior door. I pause. As long as whoever comes inside doesn’t lean over and look up the stairwell, they won’t see me when they enter the building. And I really want to know who made Lennox laugh.
Another few seconds pass before the door creaks open and voices float up the stairs.
I don’t recognize the woman’s voice, but it’s definitely a woman, and not one who is on my staff, so she must work for Lennox.
The woman laughs—a light, breathy, flirty sound—and my jaw clenches.
I turn and flee up the remaining stairs, throwing myself into my apartment and shutting the door behind me, my back pressed against the worn wood.
I’m jealous.
The feeling is as clear and potent as it is annoying.
I don’t want to be jealous. I’m just getting used to the idea of possibly, maybe sort of liking the man. It’s one thing to observehis sexiness, to bask in the warmth of his scarf or enjoy his scent or banter with him over bushels of vegetables.
