Page 32 of Winter Vows

“Not just yet,” he said. “Why don’t you have a seat, enjoy your brownie and start bossing me around?”

With regret, she put her brownie aside and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “No, no, I’ll get started, too.”

He clasped her shoulders, nudged her toward a chair, then handed the chocolate square back to her. “Come on, boss lady, bark out some orders. You know you want to. There’s not a woman alive who doesn’t get a thrill from having a man at her beck and call.”

“You’ll do anything I want you to?” she asked speculatively.

His eyes widened. “Now that certainly sounds promising. What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing like that,” she protested, guessing the wicked direction his thoughts had taken.

“Too bad. For a minute there, my heart almost stopped.”

She regarded him with resignation. “You can’t really help it, can you?”

“What?”

“Flirting.”

“Why would I want to stop?” he asked. “It keeps things interesting.”

“But it’s all a game to you. Are you ever serious about anything?”

“Not if I can help it. We only get one shot at living. I figure it ought to be fun.” He regarded her curiously. “What about you?”

She tried to think back to the last time she’d had fun without giving a thought to the consequences. “Fun has its place, I suppose.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “How many times have you laughed today?”

The question threw her. “I have no idea. Why?”

“Because sharing laughter is almost as good as sex.” He moved closer and touched a finger to the corner of her eyes. “When you laugh, when your eyes light up, I think I can see into your soul.”

She shuddered as if his touch had been far more intimate. But it was his words, his unexpectedly poetic turn of phrase, not his touch, that stirred her deep inside where she’d vowed never again to let any man reach, especially not a glib charmer like Hardy.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I surprised you, didn’t I? You figured me for a rough-and-tumble cowboy with nothing on his mind besides a quick roll in the hay.”

“Of course not,” she denied heatedly, because he was too close to the truth.

“Liar.”

She didn’t even try to defend herself. She just picked up a broom and turned away. She felt his hands on her shoulders, felt herself being turned until she faced him. His gaze settled on her gently, seriously.

“Trish, I’m going to warn you one time and one time only, don’t underestimate me. I flirt because I enjoy it. I laugh because it’s better than the alternative. But just when you think you know me, I guarantee, I’ll surprise you.”

She met his gaze evenly, felt another stirring of the heat that scared her and said quietly, “You already have.”

He gave a little nod of satisfaction, then reached for the broom she held. “Then I suppose that’s enough surprises for one morning.” He winked at her. “I have to parcel them out or you’ll start taking them for granted.”

No, Trish thought, as he went to work. She had a feeling that after today she would never take anything about Hardy Jones for granted ever again.

Hardy had done his share of odd jobs over the years. He’d worked for a wide variety of bosses, some downright mean, some kind and patient, some demanding. But he’d never before worked for one who smelled of exotic spices and worked alongside him with nonstop chatter.

It seemed Trish was finally accepting his presence. Her nervous conversation, which didn’t seem to require any response from him, suggested she might not be entirely comfortable with him yet, but she was clearly determined to make the best of it. He kept trying to get her to take it easy, reminding her that she’d just had a baby, that she needed to rest, to eat a decent lunch. She sat only when he sat, ate only when he ate.

Which meant that not very much got done. Hardy took more breaks than the best union contract in the country called for. He skipped the beer and drank milk, just to set a good example. He snacked on apples when he wanted chips. He claimed exhaustion and sat, when every fiber of his being cried out to get the job done.

“What made you decide you wanted to run a bookstore?” he asked as they sat side by side on the floor, sipping milk and eating the last of the brownies, their backs pressed against the wall.

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