Uninhibited in Apple Trail, Arkansas - Volume 2 (21 page)

But, damn. As she walked through the narrow living room, the carpet thick under her feet, it was hard to say anything ugly. Instead, she kept her back straight and at least would
look
incredibly angry.

She passed through the compact living room and into a narrow hallway.

“Second door on your right.”

She pushed the silver latch and stepped into a small room. There was little in there but a dresser on one wall and a small twin bed nearly kissing the door. He hit a button on the wall. Something beeped and vibrated under her feet and the bed slid away from her. The room opened, more carpet magically appeared as the bed rolled back until something clicked. The beeping stopped and Henry pulled his hand from button on the wall. He reached over her shoulder and pulled open the top drawer.

“Sheets.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I don’t mine helping.”

She looked over her shoulder enough that she could see his body. See that he stood no more than a foot away. “Helping would have been leaving me alone in my home.”

“Jessie,” he said her name with a heavy breath. His hands cupped her shoulders from behind. “Don’t be angry. I would just feel guilty knowing I was warm and you were in there cold.”

She swallowed the thickness from of her throat. “I wasn’t cold.”

He kissed the back of her head. His hands fell away from her. Then his heat vanished and the door behind her softly clicked to a close. And she could breathe again. Hadn’t realized she hadn’t been breathing in front of him, but apparently not.

She swiftly made the bed, far more excited and tempted by the pillowy soft top than she wanted to be. Ever since it’d got too cold for her room, she’d stayed on her couch. It was normal, just like every year. Once it warmed up, she’d return to her bed and the same mattress she’d literally been sleeping on since she was a girl.

Jessie still wanted to be angry. Had a right to be after he dragged her from her home, but at the same time, as she stretched her blanket on top of the sheets and placed her pillow down, she couldn’t scrape up one single bit of hard feelings for him at the moment.

He was impossible.

And she had no clue what to do about him. But she knew what to do with this bed. She sank on the softness. Not one creek or crack. Just a long sigh easing out her lungs. Marvelous. She rolled to her back and the heater clicked on and warm air circulated in the room. Too much heat for all her clothes. She stripped, dropped her long johns and redressed in her pajamas.

Even still, she was warm, blessedly, warm. Could be comfortable in a t-shirt and panties. A soft knock clacked on her door and she told him it was fine to open. And she got more warm. He’d changed from his jeans to navy cotton pants and a t-shirt that hugged his chest, arms and abs.

Oh, my. She would be hot in
her
house at that moment.

“Hungry?”

She assumed he meant food. That’s not what she was craving. Or no, well, she wasn’t supposed to be craving the other either. Already this was becoming complicated.

He looked over his shoulder. “I have nachos. The game is on. You can…”

Well, she wasn’t going spend the evening pretending to sulk. Not at the mention of nachos. “That sounds great.”

She hopped from the bed and followed him to the living room. A small table was in front of a tan couch. A huge platter of nachos sat in the center. There was lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, cheese, just mountains of it.

“You weren’t kidding about the nachos.”

He moved into the kitchen. “If you’re going to do something, it should be done right. Want a beer?”

A beer? Lord, she hadn’t had a beer since before she was legal to actually drink the stuff. “Sure.”

He walked back to the living room, sank on the small love seat and held up the second beer. She took it and dropped next to him, helplessly sandwiched between him and against her better judgment and loving every moment of it.

He reached forward, lifted the platter and placed it in his lap. “Dig in.”

And she did. Flavor and heat exploded on her tongue and sparked in her mouth. Crunchy chips, spicy peppers, creamy cheese, and even sizzling meat all filled her at once.

She glanced up to find him staring at her. His eyebrow that he’d cocked at her often enough was back up again. “Looks like I make a damn good platter of nachos. Or, I should say, sounds like it.”

And she was hotter. Specifically, her cheeks were flaming hot and not from the spice. “These are excellent, but it’s been forever since I’ve had nachos.”

“You don’t cook nachos?”

She shook her head and left it at that rather than saying sandwiches and soups were cheaper.

He only nodded and refocused on the TV. “I’ll try not to hold that against you, but I have to admit, you just lost points.”

She laughed, enjoying the light play. She hadn’t had this in…god, she didn’t even know. After her parents died, there’d been so much shit saddled on her at once. But she wouldn’t think about that. She cleared her throat and caught his gaze.

His handsome smile.

Soft eyes and silver rimmed glasses he only wore occasionally.

Maybe instead of a one night stand—or one moment stand in this instance, she should consider a fling. He wasn’t staying. He said as much himself. The house was for his grandpa and he’d visit and that would be the end of this. His home was in Ruston. Which was every bit of a two hour drive. The couple of months it would take to finish the log cabin was long-term to her, but not in the real true sense of it. So maybe this once she should, in a sense, treat herself to more.

She relaxed against the fluffy cushions. “And see, here I was giving you more points for cooking for me. Now I’m thinking you just lost those.”

He blinked. “I take it back. I’ll cook for you. Or teach you. How am I doing now?”

She smiled and leaned against his side. “Better than you were two minutes ago.”

And then his arm went and stretched over the back of the couch, behind her head. She would enjoy this. She would sit here, enjoy nachos and watch a football game with a man like it was a perfectly natural thing to do.

Like it was a date. And suddenly she realized there was a whole lot more to settling in and watching TV with a guy than just sitting and doing nothing. There was very little “nothing” about it.

His arm dropped lower down on the couch. The weight of his bicep settled against her neck and she slid a little closer. Definitely like a date.

Oh, yes. She was going to enjoy this. And did even more as his arm bent and hand laid flat on her side, tugging her to him until she was snuggled as close as possible. The heat of his body was on her check. His breathing lifted and lowered her as she watched TV. All over again, she was taken back to a first date where she was unsure what to do, where to put her hands.

She just wanted more of this stuff. More of this moment of pretending there was something more. A laugh escaped her chest and she slapped a hand over her mouth to hold it in. She wanted to go to second base.

His fingers curled and stroked against her arm. “What’s so funny?”

She couldn’t answer. Didn’t know how to phrase such a thing without more laughter. She pulled her hand from her mouth dropped it on his thigh instead. Or well, by his jump, she’d slapped it on his thigh.

She winced. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers kept stroking and rubbing along her thigh. “Me too.”

She frowned. “For what?”

“For dragging you out of your house.”

“Oh.” Any sexual ideas dropped off with that reminder.

He sat forward and placed the mostly eaten platter of nachos back on the coffee table. “And I should probably go ahead and say I’m sorry for tomorrow night. And the night after that, I’m sure. I’m sorry for dragging you out until you get your heater fixed. I know it’s not what you want, but I just can’t let you stay there.”

She straightened, pulling out of his hold and sat on the edge of the couch. “Let me?”

He winced. “Maybe that wasn’t the best phrase to use.”

She stood. “You think?
Let me
tell you one thing. I have been taking care of myself for years without your help, so you can take your shining armor and shove it up your ass. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. Tomorrow my fireplace will be dried out and I’ll be going back home.”

“Jessie.”

She turned on her heel and returned to her room and closed herself in, locking the door behind her. This was why she didn’t do long term or beyond a few hours. People saw her and seemed to think she was some sort of helpless stranded puppy on the side of the road needing a home.

Chapter Six

Henry stared out the window of his RV and watched as Jessie stood in the middle of her garden. Really, it shouldn’t turn him on. Her ponytail was a mess. Mud was splattered against her legs, but watching her with that determination, that nonstop efficiency in her work, well, he couldn’t help but stand there and watch for a moment.

Course, she was doing a lot of bending over, forcing her shorts to hike up her legs even more, and that added a lot to the attraction, he had to admit. Especially when she bent over with her butt to him. The shorts cut just high enough that each time she turned her ass up at him, he could swear he saw the edges of something, but it was never quite enough.

He finished off his coffee. Freaking nine in the morning and by the looks of her and the stuff piled around her garden that hadn’t been there yesterday, she’d been at it for a long time. He put his cup in the sink and headed outside.

He stopped at the edge of her neat rows. “I didn’t hear you get out of bed this morning.”

She smiled at him, so hopefully her pissed-off panties had gotten out of their twist because he was doing her a favor. “Oh, good. I was trying to be quiet.”

He shook his head. “Do you ever stop and take a break?”

“Only to pee.”

He couldn’t help himself. “In that case, do you need some water or coffee?”

Her eyes slanted. “No.”

Okay, so maybe she was still holding a bit of a grudge after last night. “So what time did you wake up?”

“Whenever the sun was bright enough to drag me out of bed.” She lifted another glass jar, carried it to the edge of the row and dumped out the water.

“Sorry about that. Between the blinds and curtains, I would have thought it stayed dark for a while. I’ll see about getting some of those black out curtains installed for you.”

She never stopped her work. “They might have worked, but I opened them so I would wake up.”

He just stared as she grabbed the next glass jar. “Why?”

She laughed. “I have a lot of work to do in the garden today and wanted to be up early. By the looks of you though, you went to bed just before I got up. Go back to sleep.”

He pulled his sunglasses off the top of his head and slid them on his face. “I worked late.”

She blinked. “Doing what?”

“I’m a publicist. I was organizing information and looking at contacts for an upcoming product a client has.”

“What product?”

“I signed a confidentiality agreement.” He rubbed his hands together. “So what do you need me to do?”

She stopped and stared at him. Her pink gloves were loose at her wrists. Hair dangled in her eyes. “Do?”

“To help you. This way we can finish early.”

“I don’t want to finish early. I have this whole day planned around the garden while it’s a little warm before the cold front moves in tonight. If you were up late, really, go back to sleep.”

His mouth hung open a bit before he gained control. Just leave her out here. Alone. Working while he slept. What kind of ass did she think he was? “I’m not going to sleep while you’re out here breaking your back.”

She picked up two more jars. “I slept while you worked.”

“You didn’t know I was working and you couldn’t have helped anyway.” He didn’t bother waiting for permission and lifted up the last jar on the row, tossed the water out and put his jar with the others. “Same for the others?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I can do this, you know.”

“I have no doubt, but I want to help.”

She closed her eyes and there was a good chance she was counting in her head. “Let me rephrase. I can and want to do this alone.”

He stopped and cupped her shoulders. “But I want to do it with you.”

She smirked. “Fine. All the jars need to be emptied of water and then carried to the house.”

“Thank you.” He lifted two nearby gallon glass jars and carried them to the pile of others. “How do you carry them up to the house?”

“With my hands. And careful, I don’t have any extras if you break one.”

He glanced to her house that was every bit of twenty-five to thirty yards away, then to the forty to fifty jars. Now he understood her smirk, but he wouldn’t say one negative thing. If she did this, so could he. He lifted two jars. “I’m on it.”

He carried jars. And carried, and carried. Somewhere around trip fifteen, he lost track of just how many trips he was making. He didn’t know why, but knew if he was pulling these jars out and taking them to the house, they were likely going to have to go back. Which meant, all this walking, all over again.

It really wasn’t a bad job, just boring walking the jars to the house. Walking back with Jessie bending over and cutting some green leaves out of her garden, that part wasn’t so bad and really made it all worth it. He hauled the last two jars, set them on the ground with the others and headed back, weaving his way through her garden rows and stopped next to her as she swiped her knife under the greens. She dropped the handful of whatever that was in her basket, pivoted on her toes and started on the next row.

He lifted her basket of leaves and turned, following her to the rows at her back and moving her basket closer. “What are you doing with all these green leaves?”

She chuckled. “They’re spinach and I’m going to sell them.”

“People come all the way out here for spinach?”

“Nope.” She squatted at the next spinach plant and sliced off another handful, dropping the little leaves in the basket. “Tiffany will take them in to a friend of hers who keeps a small daycare just off the square. She sells them for us. Mostly to the parents.”

“I didn’t even know you could grow vegetables in the winter like this.”

“Daddy loved to garden in the summer.” She continued down the row with her knife, slicing off more handfuls of spinach as she went. “But momma always had a hard time with the heat. Fair skinned. Red hair. She tended a small winter garden to put fresh food on the table during that time of year. Tiffany and I kept it up after they passed, at first just because it was something we always did, but then it became a means of a little extra income.”

She finished the last of that row, dusted her hands. “There.”

“All done?”

She laughed. “No. Now I need to rinse out all the empty jars and set them aside until later this evening. I’ll have to fill them with hot water, put them back out and then cover the crops up. They’re calling for some sleet tonight. There’s really not much left at this point. Please, Henry, just go do whatever you need to do. I’m not used to having someone under my feet and in the way.”

He wiped his hands off on his pants and ignored the in-the-way-part. “Then maybe you should get used to it.”

“Maybe you should learn to back off. I’m not some damsel in distress.”

He grinned and lifted two jars. “Never thought you were. I’m starving, do you want any lunch?”

She pointed in her basket. “I’m having a spinach salad.”

“After all that work, you need some protein and I have some steaks to cook.” He picked up her basket and carried it for her to his RV.