by Ava Miles
He could imagine her working out there alone at night as the wind rattled the windows of the small space. He was glad she’d had somewhere and something to help her. But now that he was here, he planned to stay by her side if she had any of those nights in the future.
If she’d let him.
“Never mind me,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “Anyway, I got really familiar with the Food and Drug Administration’s rules. A dedicated lab space seemed to be critical for running a beauty business. Ben was a good carpenter, and so is Tom. They made this space for me in no time, and it’s been so much better for my company overall. My office is in the back room,” she said, leading him down the hall.
“Some of my brothers say that’s where the real business gets done,” he said, adding a wink to help her relax again.
Sure enough, tucked into the smaller room alongside her inventory was a bold office setup in red, stainless steel, and white, including an older laptop charging, a great choice two years ago. “I like a woman who knows her electronics.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “I won’t claim to be knowledgeable, but I’m really good at research.”
“It shows,” he said, scanning the printer and Wi-Fi setup, also good models two years ago. “You can research with me anytime.”
Her smile stretched a little wider, and she shook her head gently as if to say he was ridiculous. Good. He was getting through to her.
“We’ll see about that.” Pointing to the red filing cabinet by the desk, she said, “That’s where I keep my lab journals, which include batch information and the like, as well as my formulation testing. I have final recipes indexed in that large white metal box. They’re also backed up online, but I’ll be honest—I’m still old-fashioned with some things. I handwrite a lot of information since it allows me to play with the formulas when I’m in the house with the girls.”
“Must be hard to face that harsh cold air and snow to come to the lab some days,” he said, giving a playful shiver.
“Not for a steadfast Ohioan like me,” she said, shaking her head so her blond curls bobbed over her shoulders. “You aren’t afraid of a little cold air, are you, Flynn?”
Her voice held a hint of sultry flirtation, and he laughed in delight. “Sometimes I dread the hell out of it, frankly, Annie, especially if it crests below zero, which I expect it does around here.”
“Frequently.” She crooked her finger playfully. “Come see my infusions.”
Good God, he’d follow her anywhere if she kept that up, but instead of saying so, he kept a straight face and said, “If I had a dollar for each time I heard that.”
She laughed again as she led him into a side room with a window. After flicking on the light, she pointed to gallon-size jars filled with what looked like either herbs or flowers. “I like to make as many of my own infused oils and glycerin extracts as I can. For one, it keeps my costs down, and it also has more appeal for my customers. They love natural extracts in products. I came across one chemist in a forum I’m a member of who mentioned that argan oil was the number one ingredient in skincare products if you looked at the data, so I created an entire line focused around it. You know what? It’s one of my top sellers.”
“You’re speaking Merriam language now. We’re crazy about data and market research. It really turns us on.” Quinn would love her, he realized. And seeing this workshop would push Caitlyn over the edge of excitement.
“Me too, actually,” she said. Her cheeks went pink, and she put a hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”
“Don’t worry. You’re among friends.” He peered at the label on one of the jars: Calendula Flower, November 15. Scanning a few others, he noted licorice root, rosehip, green tea, and something called mallow root. “Annie, these are incredible. Seriously!”
“Thank you. I won’t release a product that isn’t better than what’s already out there. It would be total folly for a small company. Come on, let me show you what’s in the cabinets. I’m starting to run out of space. It’s a good problem to have.”
Yeah, the lab was neat as a pin, but she was clearly bursting at the seams. She’d need to expand, or to sell to someone who could do it for her. Time would tell which option suited her best. “Yes, it is. Show me more.”
When their eyes met, he felt the spark all the way down to his bones. “Follow me.”
He gestured grandly for her to precede him, enjoying the sway of her hips as she slid in front of him.
Back in the main lab, she started opening the doors. “I feel like a game show host. Behind Door Number One…”
“You’re beautiful enough.”
Her big baby blues flew to his. “Oh. Thanks.”
Did she not see herself that way? His sister had suffered from a crisis of confidence, so he understood a bit about why a woman like Annie, lovely enough that he never wanted to stop looking at her, might feel that way. He’d have to help her see what he saw.
“You’re also very organized,” he commented.
“I try to be,” she said, turning to face him. She pulled unconsciously on the white sleeve of her T-shirt. “This ends the tour.”
“It’s all very impressive, Annie. I can see why you’ve become successful.”
“How about I show you the refrigerated ingredients?” she asked, wrapping her arms over her chest in a way that drew his attention to her full breasts. “That is, if you’re feeling brave. It might be a bad idea since you dread the cold so much.”
He laughed. “Maybe you’ll let me keep close to you as you open the door.”
“Maybe I will,” she said, moving quickly to the refrigerator and opening it grandly.
He joined her, letting himself stand close enough to feel her warmth, and reached out to prop the door with one hand. “I love the pops of red in your lab, especially with the fridge,” he commented.
“Everything seemed too clinical before, what with all of the stainless steel, glass, and white cabinets. I figured it could use some color, and red is my favorite.”
Only a woman of deep passion loved red, he knew from his own market research on color. From the first moment he’d seen her photo on her website, he’d known there was more to Annie Loudermilk. Damn, he was going to enjoy finding out everything about her. “I’m making a mental note of that.”
Her mouth parted, and then she said, “Okay… I store oils with a shelf-life shorter than one year in here. We’re talking evening primrose, borage, rosehip, and a few others. Ah… This might be too much detail for you. Moving on. I also keep certain extracts in here. Usually the ones with glycerin hold up to about a year and a half, but I still prefer to keep them cool.”
“What does mallow extract do?” he asked, scanning the shelves. “I noticed it in your infusion room.”
“It’s fabulous for the hair. Coats the hair shaft because it contains a high percentage of mucilage, which protects, strengthens, and detangles. It’s one of my favorite ingredients in conditioners and my leave-in conditioning sprays.”
“Do you use it?” he asked, feeling bold enough to reach out and touch the ends of her hair. The curls felt even softer than he’d imagined, and he immediately wanted to weave his hand through her hair and kiss her senseless.
“Yes,” she all but whispered.
“It shows,” he said, his voice lower now. “You have beautiful hair, Annie.”
He rubbed the ends with his fingers, a slight caress, and she sucked in a breath. “So do you.” She returned the mallow extract to the fridge with shaky hands and then lifted one slowly and touched the ends of his hair. “In fact, I like it.”
His brows lifted. “Oh, yeah. How much?”
“Probably more than I should,” she said, rubbing the strands of his hair together slightly, the sensation driving him crazy, before releasing them. As if the moment had shaken her, she immediately shifted back to talk of the product—like a rock climber finding steady ground. “It’s also great for the skin, but I prefer ot
her extracts for skincare products personally.”
“I’m eager to learn more at your capable hands,” he said, letting go of her hair and closing the door. “If you could teach me anything tonight, what would it be?” He didn’t want the tour to be the end of their evening, and he could tell she didn’t either.
She leaned back against the red door. In the jeans and white T-shirt, she looked as much like Venus as the girl next door. His mouth watered, taking in the full swell of her breasts and hips again. God, she was beautiful.
“I think we should probably start with body butter,” she said, giving him a shy smile. “It’s easy and really quite decadent.”
“Sounds like my kind of product.”
Her smile widened a little. “It sounds like you’re already sold, but I’m going to keep going with my sales pitch. Another reason body butter is a good place to start is because it’s easy and immediately gratifying.”
“You’re checking all my boxes here.”
A gusty laugh exploded out of her. “Well, good. You and your helpers are going to enjoy the process of making it, trust me.”
“I do trust you, Annie.”
Their eyes held. “Good. That’s important to me.”
Another mental note made. Rubbing his hands together, he said, “Where do we start?”
She retrieved a large mixing bowl and her hand mixer. “The one thing about body butter a lot of people miss is that you need to use a butter that isn’t too hard to begin with.” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a couple of containers. “I love kokum, cocoa, and shea butter, but this is what they look like at room temperature. Hard.”
“Oh, the jokes I could make right now.”
Her red flush was as endearing as her spurt of laughter. “You can whip them up with oil, but they typically go back to being solid. Not our friend for this recipe.”
He made his face turn serious. “Not our friend. Got it.”
“Now mango butter is our friend,” she said, putting a tub on the counter and opening the lid. “It’s silky and absorbs nicely into the skin.”
“I already love it.”
She reached into a drawer and pulled out a spoon. “Here, give me your hand.”
The way she said it made his blood heat. She dug into one of the cream-colored chunks of butter, picked it up, and rubbed it into his palm.
He fought the shiver that went through him as her fingers slid across his skin, igniting fires in their wake. “It’s nice,” he managed, aware he was almost holding his breath.
Her fingers slowed, and her eyes met his. “I’m glad you like it. Ah… We’re going to mix this with sweet almond oil and jojoba oil—jojoba is really an ester, not an oil—then we’ll add some simple cornstarch to keep the body butter from being greasy. I should…get the rest of the ingredients ready.”
She removed her hand, but she watched as he finished rubbing the butter into his skin. The rapid rise and fall of her chest and the adorable flush spreading across her clavicle was even sexier than her rubbing that butter into his skin. “What can I help with, Annie?”
She showed him how to weigh the oils and butter on her scale in grams, the measurement she preferred and one she said was standard in the industry. They used little glass bowls for each ingredient, which was good, because getting the right amount took a few tries. After pouring all of the oils and butters into the main mixing bowl, she handed him the mixer and said, “Beat it good.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned the machine on low before flipping it to high once everything was mixed.
“You’ve used a hand mixer before,” she said, studying him in the harsh fluorescent light. “Somehow I’m surprised.”
He lifted his brow. “Did Valen—Emily—give you the impression I was only a pretty face?”
“Obviously, no, or she wouldn’t have—”
“Set us up? I’m going to have to buy her a case of champagne for that.”
“I might do the same,” she admitted, ducking her chin. “I’m really glad you’re here, Flynn.”
He took her hand. “So am I.”
She leaned forward and peeked into the bowl beside him. “Ready for the next step?”
“For you? Yes,” he said.
She met his gaze full on—her eyes assessing again—before turning away and coming back with a plastic container with the handwritten label cornstarch.
He watched as she weighed it in a small container like he had the other ingredients and sprinkled it into the body butter he was mixing, doing it on the sides so it wouldn’t poof into the air. Focusing on the task at hand, he watched as the body butter started to whip together like creamy whipped frosting. “Well, look at that. I’m making body butter.” He loved the feeling of pride that came with learning and executing something new. It had always been more satisfying to him than anything he did in his line of work. “Thank you for teaching me something new. It’s a gift I don’t take lightly.”
She put her hand gently on his arm. “You’re a natural, Flynn.”
He was sure his chest puffed out at her compliment. “I like knowing I enjoy the things you’re passionate about. It feels important. You know?”
She ducked her chin a moment before looking up. “Emily actually told me she thought we might be…a good fit because we liked some of the same things.”
He put his hand over hers on his arm. “Another case of champagne for Emily.”
She nodded. “Let’s finish this, shall we?”
He heard the promise of what was after, and he loved it. Would they sit in her kitchen and have a glass of wine? Could he convince her to put her feet in his lap as they shared stories? He let his mind fill with possibilities as they stood side by side, watching as the mixer swirled the body butter into luscious peaks.
“Okay, that’s pretty good,” she said, and he shut off the mixer. “Now we just add a little Vitamin E and some essential oils. Let’s go over to my cabinet and see what you like. I forgot to show them to you earlier.”
“I love essential oils,” he said, following her to a wooden cabinet near the fridge. “In fact, my sister Caitlyn, the one who’s coming next week, gave me a new appreciation for them with her new perfume enterprise. They’re potent flower magic according to her perfume maker, Ibrahim.”
“Yes, they are. I can’t wait to meet your sister. We’ll have so much to talk about. Now, about the scent. I already know you like vetiver and clove. Which suits you really well, by the way.”
He waggled his brows. “Glad you like it.”
She picked up a couple of oils and uncapped them. “But what about blue spruce with a little sandalwood?”
“I’m open to new experiences,” he said, making her laugh.
She waved the first and then the second under his nose, much like he remembered Caitlyn’s perfume maker doing so the aroma wouldn’t saturate the scent glands in the nose. The forestry scent of the blue spruce made him feel more grounded, while the sandalwood’s warm and milky notes made him feel at home.
Only perhaps that wasn’t the sandalwood, but Annie.
He felt an easiness with her he’d never experienced with a woman he wanted this much. Hadn’t Uncle Arthur said things were supposed to be easy with a true life partner?
“I really like this, Annie,” he said in the silence.
“Me too,” she responded, her blue eyes sparkling brighter.
A part of him shouted, Kiss her, you fool!
She turned away before he could make his move, and she measured the final ingredients, then added them to the body butter. He focused on his task again, turning the mixer on and whipping until she made a playful slashing motion much like a famous conductor might. They had plenty of time, after all.
She grabbed a spoon and dished some out, holding it up in the light. “Good consistency. Now, let’s see about the skin feel.”
His mouth went dry. God, that was a hot phrase. He didn’t care if it was a technical term.
She held the spoon out to hi
m, and he took a sample, rubbing it into the back of his hand. Before she could reach for any herself, he took her hand and smoothed some between the V of her thumb and forefinger. He heard her breath rush out, and she looked up at him, her eyes a darker blue. Her blond lashes lowered, but she didn’t look away. She was watching him with an intensity he hadn’t seen in her before.
“Feels wonderful, if you ask me,” he said, his tone lowering.
“Yes, it does,” she answered, her throat moving as she swallowed thickly.
As he was lifting her hand to his mouth in what he hoped was a gallant kiss, the door burst open, injecting a blast of cold air. Annie jumped away from him as her father-in-law filled the doorway.
“Got the girls down fine, Annie,” Tom said, staring first at the tense woman beside him and then shooting a sharp look in Flynn’s direction. “The twins were just missing their dad is all. June and I are headed back to the main house. You should turn on the baby monitors. Don’t work too late.”
He closed the door as abruptly as he’d opened it, leaving Flynn acutely aware of the pounding of his heart at the surprise interruption. Tom’s presence lingered, as did his mention of Ben.
Annie was frowning, her hands fisted at her sides. “See what I mean about complications?”
He nodded slowly. The desire to reach for her, to kiss her, hadn’t faded, but the mood was broken for now. “I do. But we’ll win everyone over, trust me. You haven’t met my Uncle Arthur and Aunt Clara yet.” He wasn’t even going to mention the kind of magic Hargreaves dished out.
She sank against the counter and reached for some more body butter, rubbing it into her hands harder now, almost like she was trying to erase Tom’s interruption. “You really think they can crack Tom and the twins?”
He didn’t doubt it for a second. “They’re downright miracle workers.”
Chapter 7
Babysitting.
Arthur Hale personally thought he was better at journalism and matchmaking. There was no way he was going to become so hallowed at babysitting that he was sought after by the rest of the family. Or at least he hoped not. Not that he didn’t like little ones, but frankly, he didn’t want to be their sole entertainer or caretaker anymore. The grandparent gig was more his style. Bouncing a baby on his knee until his joints started creaking. Diaper changing and nose wiping was the parents’ territory, to his mind. If the Loudermilk girls hadn’t been well beyond that stage, he wouldn’t have agreed to come to Nemo, Ohio.
