Mia swallowed and pointed vaguely at the laundry baskets on the couch and living room floor. “No. Unless laundry counts.”
His smile widened. “It doesn’t.”
“Right.” She looked down at her fuzzy purple socks. There was a hole showing off her big toe. Wow, she was a mess.
“You want to go to dinner?”
Her mouth dropped open a little when she looked up at him. Was he asking her on a…date? While she stood in her ratty clothes choking on wine and barely putting together sentences. “I’m…” She pointed to her clothes.
He took his time looking them over. Enough time that a blush started creeping up her neck. “You could change.”
“Oh, right. Um. Okay.”
“You could also let me in.”
“Right.” She stepped out of the way and when he stepped in she closed the door behind him. Weird did not begin to describe having Dell stand in her entryway.
“I would have called, but I don’t have your number.” He stepped into her living room. Dell Wainwright standing in her living room, casual as could be. “I thought we could go to that Edibles place, since you know the chef.”
Mia blinked a few times, realized her mouth was open, snapped it shut. Then realized she had to open it again to respond.
Dell was asking her out. On a date. Which, of course, was the natural progression here. They’d kissed. He’d been jealous. Why wouldn’t they go out on a date?
Mia took a deep breath, focused on saying something casual and normal. When she thought about Dell being jealous and wanting to go to Sam’s restaurant, it wasn’t such a hard thing to do. “Edibles sounds great. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll go change.”
She sounded like a reasonable, adult woman. Yay. When she turned for the hallway, though, she stumbled over her own boots.
Better start praying the reasonable, adult woman made it to dinner.
Dell poked around Mia’s living room. Family pictures, cow knickknacks, basketball trophies, which had to be Cara’s. He couldn’t see Mia being coordinated enough to play a team sport.
The place was kind of cluttered and girly, but it suited them. He wandered through the kitchen, then couldn’t quite contain his curiosity in moving down the hall.
Curiosity was what had gotten him here, after all. Wondering what she’d be doing on a Saturday night. What she’d be wearing. How would she react to him showing up? Was there anything extra going on with her and that chef guy?
After the backbreaking afternoon he’d spent trying to clean up the mess of his fields, darkness had descended. He’d spent the entire day mulling over contingency plans and where he could scrounge up some extra money, and then he’d turned his mind to much more interesting thoughts.
Since there wasn’t anything else to distract himself with at home, he figured he’d just show up and find out the answers to all those curiosity-driven questions.
Dell peeked through the open door of the first room in the hall. It was kind of messy, but he immediately pinned it as Mia’s from the stacks of seed catalogs all over and the barn paintings on the wall. Cowboy and work boots littered the bottom of her open closet, a few old, beat-up pairs of tennis shoes spilling out, as well.
Like the living room, cluttered and feminine without being fussy. It wasn’t lace and pink like Kenzie’s room at home. The room was a perfect reflection of Mia.
“Oh.” Mia stopped short in the door, swallowed. She obviously hadn’t expected to see him there.
“I like your room,” he offered.
“How did you know it was mine?”
“Well, I figured seed catalogs weren’t what Cara would consider bedtime reading.”
She’d changed out of her jeans and T-shirt. Skintight black pants and a long V-neck sweater. She’d pulled her hair out of its ponytail, looked like maybe she’d put on some makeup. Her eyes were darker, her lips redder.
She fidgeted in her own room’s doorway and he put two and two together. She was wearing Cara’s clothes—that’s why she’d come from the other room.
She looked really good in Cara’s clothes.
“I, um, just need to get my shoes.” She moved past him, and if he was reading things right, made every effort to keep a little physical distance as she did.
She bent over, pawing through the shoes at the bottom of her closet, and Dell sent up a little prayer of thanks for Cara. The pants did amazing things for Mia’s ass. Enough that he couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to slide his hands over the curve, move his hands under her shirt, grazing bare skin.
Dell let out a long breath. He was definitely jumping the gun. He wasn’t even sure she’d want to sleep with him, let alone sure if he was up for such a…sensitive task. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about it. Only that he shouldn’t.
She turned, a determined smile on her face. “Ready?” Mia looked more like someone about to go into battle than someone about to go on a date.
He wasn’t sure if it was his pride or something else bothered by that. He wanted her to be excited or flattered or at least relaxed.
When she tried to walk past, he took her hand in his. He wanted to say something reassuring, give her an out. Maybe she didn’t want to go.
She turned her hand in his so their fingers entwined. When he met her gaze, she smiled a little.
Holding hands in the middle of her bedroom. It was all…a little close for comfort. Something strange flopped in his gut. Something like nerves.
Frowning at himself, he curled his fingers around her shoulder, the fabric of her sweater soft against his palm. Her head tilted back, lips pursed and expression uncertain.
“You look really hot.” Apparently Mia’s uncontrollable blurting was contagious. “I mean, you look good. You usually do.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, pleased and not at all shy. Apparently his being an idiot was a good old ego booster. She actually stepped closer.
His brain knew it wasn’t a great idea to touch her hair, but when she reciprocated by putting a hand on his forearm, his brain shut the hell up.
He lowered his mouth to hers. He made sure to be slow, careful. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.
He tasted whatever was on her lips. Something vaguely fruity. Her hand grasped his forearm tighter and then, hesitantly, her other hand moved to his cheek and her fingers rifled through his hair.
Though the desire to press against her was a beating, growing urge, he held himself back. He kept the kiss light, until the tip of her tongue grazed his bottom lip.
The kiss deepened. So lost in it, he wasn’t sure who initiated it, but Mia met him move for move. She opened her mouth, granting him entrance, and as his hands smoothed down her back, she returned the favor.
The distance between them was gone, maybe by mutual decision, and as his hands cupped over her ass he had the buzzing, disorienting realization things were moving too fast. Mia was not the sex-before-you-even-had-a-date kind of girl.
When he pulled away, he was surprised to find his own breathing as ragged as hers. She looked a little shell-shocked. Had he been too aggressive? “You just tell me if I need to back off, okay?”
“I will.” Her eyes held his and though her breath hitched a little, she looked absolutely sure. “I might be inexperienced, but I’m not Amish. Or about to let you or anyone push me into something I don’t want.” She tentatively slid her palm down his chest until it rested at his abdomen. Something about the mix of nerves and determination just about did him in.
Dell smiled, tracing his finger over the edge of her collarbone. Mia might be a lot of things, but she was no pushover. It was comforting to think she wouldn’t let him be an ass.
“So, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in my bedroom.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, then took her hand from him, creating some distance.
He let out a breath. “Yeah. Good idea.” He tried to adjust himself before he followed Mia out of her bedroom. It was going to be a long night.
<
br /> Mia retrieved her purse and keys. Her hand shook just a little. Both from that kiss and from pride. She hadn’t freaked out. She hadn’t backed down. She’d kissed him back. She’d caused him to get aroused.
Her.
She wanted to do a little tap dance right there in the kitchen.
It didn’t eradicate the nerves or the what-nexts swirling in her mind, but it managed them in some weird way. Cataloged them away behind the giddy feeling of power and attraction.
Dell Wainwright had a thing for her. It validated something inside her she hadn’t realized needed validating.
When she turned, she found him studying the papers spread out on the table. They outlined her plan of action for the next months. What seeds she’d need to rebuy. Cost sheets. Field designs. A couple printouts about cold frames.
And just like that her excitement fizzled, because they were right back to where they’d been this afternoon. A glaring reminder they were each other’s biggest competition and there was a lot at stake.
Chapter Twelve
Mia’s plans scattered across her table were more organized and neater than his, but they both outlined the same problem.
Now they weren’t just competing for customers, they were competing on growth times and who could offer what and when.
And he was asking her to dinner and kissing her in her bedroom and enjoying her way too much.
Maybe his dad was right to think Dell was foolish. Being here reeked of exactly that.
“You can back out, Dell.”
He frowned at her. She smiled sheepishly, putting her purse down on the counter and walking to the opposite side of the table.
“It was nice of you to offer, but—” she gestured toward the papers “—this is more complicated than we seem to want to give it credit for. I mean, you don’t see the head of McDonald’s and the head of Burger King making out, do you?”
Dell snorted out a laugh. “Probably for other reasons. Not to mention, we’re not exactly at a McDonald’s level of business here.”
“Not monetarily, but doesn’t it mean enough to you to think of it that way?”
Dell touched the expense sheet with all Mia’s meticulously written figures. It wasn’t millions, but it meant more than money, that was for sure. She had a point.
This week kept getting shittier and shittier. Which didn’t seem fair. Dell looked up from the papers, studied Mia. Her mouth was curved into a rueful smile, but she seemed disappointed, too.
He’d never seen much sense in self-sacrifice unless it was directly tied to the farm, and this was tied to the farm, but it didn’t feel very direct. Screwing with Mia was definitely wrong, but she had said she wasn’t exactly saving herself for some white knight.
“You said you wouldn’t mind a few Mr. Wrongs, right?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Well, I’m not looking for Mrs. Right. So, maybe we just enjoy each other no matter how wrong until this stuff gets in the way.” Didn’t he deserve something that was fun and not stressful?
“You’re suggesting we…” She blinked, her cheeks faintly pink.
He grinned. “I’m suggesting we have fun. Till it’s not.”
“Oh.”
Yeah, he really deserved something fun. Something good. Mia was definitely both of those things. “So, what do you say? I’m starving.”
She blinked a few more times, then smiled brightly. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” Slipping her purse onto her arm, she shuffled the papers into a pile.
She walked toward the door and Dell followed. When she stopped abruptly, he almost ran into her.
She looked at him, brows drawn together. “Is this one of those keep-your-enemies-closer things?”
He wanted to laugh, but she seemed so serious. “Not a lot of farmer espionage that I know of. What am I going to find out? You’re planting beefsteak tomatoes instead of Snow Fairy?” She looked so uncertain Dell was compelled to wipe it off her face. “I just like you, Mia.”
Her mouth curved even as the pink in her cheeks deepened. Something about her response made him feel less like a pansy ass for vocalizing it.
She fiddled with her purse strap, opened her mouth silently, then closed it. It was baffling he found that attractive. Probably made him some kind of weirdo.
Well, so be it. “Going to say something embarrassing, sugar?”
Her nervous fidgeting stopped abruptly and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Watch it, buddy. You’re not half as charming as you seem to think you are.”
Dell chuckled. “I charmed you right out of doing your laundry on a Saturday night. My powers are endless.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was humor in her curved mouth. “Moron.” She turned to the door, then opened it before stepping outside. Dell followed, not sure what he was doing. Not sure what his end game was.
Maybe there was no end game. But what did that mean? He usually had a pretty clear idea what he wanted out of a relationship. Mia complicated everything.
She locked her door. “For what it’s worth,” she began, her face angled toward the doorknob, expression obscured by dark, “I just like you, too.”
Dell scratched his fingers through his hair. Maybe it was the fact he’d spent more time on the farm the past year than on his social life. That had meant spending a lot of time with a family who might love him, but didn’t always like him.
Mia’s simple statement meant a lot. A lot more than he was comfortable with.
* * *
Mia shifted in the passenger seat, then mentally scolded herself for fidgeting like a dog waiting for a treat.
She’d made it through the date portion without saying anything too embarrassing at dinner. But now…the quiet ride home, the is-he-going-to-kiss-me anxiety. She was bound to say something really dumb.
He pulled his truck up in front of her apartment and Mia couldn’t possibly keep herself still. What was supposed to happen now? How was she supposed to act? How was she supposed to send the right signals to say she was open for a goodnight kiss, perhaps a little more than a goodnight kiss, but not too much more than that?
So, of course, she started babbling. “Um, well, that was nice. Fun. I mean, good food and conversation and—” Mia took a breath, noticing his bemused expression. “And shut up, Mia,” she said, shoulders hunching.
“Relax. For some strange reason I find the babbling insanely cute.”
“Ew. Cute?”
“Sexy. So sexy.”
How he managed to keep a straight face she didn’t know, but then he leaned over and kissed her and she really didn’t care.
When he pulled away, she wanted to hold on. She wanted the moment to last, to go longer, to move forward. Not all the way forward, but at least a little bit. Waiting twenty-six years to have any decent interaction with a guy, let alone a hot guy, made her want to make sure she got as much out of the deal as possible.
“Um, you could come in. Not to, you know, but um, we could…” Oh, she was an idiot.
Dell squeezed her hand. “Come on.” He got out of his truck and she scurried after him.
“How do you do it? The confidence stuff. I mean, is it all centered on being good-looking or is there some trick to it?”
“To being confident?”
“Yeah! I’m all awkwardly inviting you into my apartment to not…”
“You can say it. It won’t kill you. Promise.”
Mia took a deep breath. No. Nope. She could not say it. It really might kill her. “The point is you’re just walking up to my door without a care in the world, and I’m sitting here obsessing like a crazy person over whether or not I used the right inflection on the words ‘you know.’”
“You’re not crazy. You’re quirky. And I’ve had a little more practice at walking up to girls’ doors. Both with and without the end result being sex. You said you like me. I can tell you like it when I kiss you. What would I have to not be confident about?”
“What if I’m lying?”
&nbs
p; “Why would you?”
She stood on her porch trying to work through his logic. There were plenty of reasons why people lied. Why people pretended. The fact Dell didn’t think them possible made her wonder if he ever lied or pretended.
At least when it came to this, what would he possibly get out of lying or pretending? He routinely had a line of women ogling him. Surely if he was here with her it was because he legitimately wanted to be.
She wasn’t sure how to make out what that meant.
“I know you said ‘you know’ is off the table.” He made little air quotes with his fingers and she wrinkled her nose. Then he grinned and something in her stomach started doing cartwheels. “But I can kiss you, right?”
It was a question, but of course he knew the answer. He wouldn’t have that cocky grin on his face if he didn’t know the answer. Could he kiss her? She couldn’t think of a time the answer would be no.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly. Oh, right. She should probably say something instead of standing around like a dummy. “Um, yeah. You can kiss me.”
He didn’t waste his time, and thank God for that. With her mouth occupied, she couldn’t say anything embarrassing or otherwise.
His fingers brushed her jaw, then traced down her neck while he nibbled at her mouth until she was pretty sure her bones were dissolving.
He was really, really good at that.
The kiss deepened, and she pushed onto her tiptoes, but she didn’t know what to do with her hands. Touch him, but where? How? Before she could run through the possible list of wheres, Dell’s hands circled her wrists and pulled until her arms were around his neck.
That worked. Even better when he nudged her against the door and there was nothing between them.
The nerves were still there, but excitement and anticipation jostled for space so she only felt a vague sense of nervousness while her brain remained blissfully quiet.
He tasted like the mints they’d gotten after dinner and something she couldn’t identify. Maybe it was unique to him or maybe it was just what kissing was like.
His body was pressed to hers, her back against the door. He was hard, and she was totally giddy over the fact she’d given a guy an erection.
Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire Page 35
