by Lisa Hughey
Daydreaming about things that were never going to happen was counterproductive, and she needed to pick up the pace on these boxes. The Tullys would be back soon for camp registration at two.
She looked up at the sky and noted she didn’t have much time.
She sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
She jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around. “You sure are quiet.”
Diego stood closer than she expected, dressed like he was on his way to the country club for a round of golf. His cheeks were smooth and she couldn’t help but remember the scruff that framed his lips earlier this morning. Without her permission, her gaze tracked to his mouth.
His unsmiling mouth.
Penny jerked her attention back to his eyes. In the meantime, his gaze heated and dropped to her lips. Suddenly the air around them turned soupy, thick with sexual tension and the rising humidity.
“How come you stopped earlier?”
“My assistant’s boyfriend was in an accident. I had to get him to the hospital.”
She swiped at her brow again. Diego stepped closer, lifted his hand to her cheek.
Penny stepped back. “What are you doing?” But her voice was shaky.
“You had some dirt. On your face.”
She took another step back, skimmed her gaze down his body. He was all neat and proper. “You don’t want to mess up your clothes.”
“I’ll survive.” Diego smiled faintly.
The air was supercharged. A subtle sexual tension hovered in the air; she was hyper-aware of him.
“So what are the raised beds for?”
He had no idea? But he was the boss and the Tullys had confirmed the addition with their company liaison.
“Part of this weekend retreat’s mission is to introduce sustainable gardening into corporate culture.”
She waited for his derision. He certainly hadn’t been very open since they’d reconnected.
He seemed to be waiting expectantly for more information. Except Penny had to get back to work. “Don’t take this the wrong way…but in order to get this done before the welcome reception, I need to work while I talk.”
“Multi-tasking.” He grinned, his teeth white in his swarthy face and his eyes, the color of a dark espresso, crinkled. “I’m familiar with it.”
The power of that smile nearly dropped her to her knees. She wanted to bask in that glow, but she had raised beds to build.
“Why do corporations need gardens?”
He sounded intrigued rather than disdainful, and she figured educating the CEO couldn’t hurt. “Multiple studies show that being in nature for even a short time each day increases productivity, creates a more focused mind, relieves stress, relieves inflammation—which means less employee sick days.”
Penny struggled to set the board in place. Diego stepped closer and steadied it for her. “You’ll get dirty,” she protested.
“I can also get clean.” He braced the board so she could drill in the screws. As the day had warmed up, she’d used a wide headband to keep the escaping strands of hair off her face.
She smiled. His appearance didn’t suggest that he’d gotten dirty since he was a kid. She got lost in the deep mystery of his gaze.
“Corporate gardens?”
“Oh, um, yeah.” She ducked her head and focused on screwing together the boards. “Working in the soil and with nature provides a benefit to the employees. The food harvested can either be used by the company or donated to a local food pantry.”
“What’s in it for you?”
She wanted to bristle but she kept her tone calm, even. “I charge a consulting fee to design and set up the gardens.”
“Most companies don’t need the food. They either have a food service in place or the employees are on their own.” His point was a good one.
She and Diego had settled into an easy rhythm. He anticipated her moves before she even finished, and she continued explaining her idea.
“Then they take the charitable contribution and create goodwill in their local community. It’s a win-win.”
And if one less kid went hungry, everybody won.
“Let’s get these beds lined up.” She’d gotten so used to him anticipating that she forgot he wasn’t just there to work for her.
On three they lifted the first wood frame and moved it into place.
Together they worked easily to lay out the six beds into two even rows of three. The silence was effortless, reflective, until it wasn’t.
Step one: done.
Penny avoided looking at him, choosing instead to study the area she’d already staked out. She still had to get the dirt distributed in the six beds.
“How in the world did you ever get into farming?”
There was the disdain she’d been expecting earlier. The disappointment that flooded her wasn’t a surprise. The bigger surprise was that he’d taken so long to be disparaging.
That was a discussion that they could have, oh…never.
“Degree in Ag from UMass Amherst.” She picked up the tools and loaded them into the toolbox. Next up was distributing the soil into the beds. The tools could go back in her truck.
“Not very Middlesex County of you,” he mocked.
Yeah, well, she’d left the Brahmin crowd behind. Or they’d left her behind, as it were.
“Hard to believe you muck around in the dirt. The kid I remember was always pristine. Even after a week of camp your shoes were still bleach white.”
He remembered her shoes?
“I like being dirty,” she said defensively, then the alternative meaning of her words sank in. An embarrassed flush began in her stomach and spread outward.
“In the right circumstances, dirty can be really good.” His voice pitched low, deepening.
Oh my Gawd. Desperate to shift the conversation, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “How’s that Porsche?”
“Fantastic.” But he was studying her, like he wanted to dissect her, pin her down, and discover all her secrets.
A commotion from the front of Pinecone Lodge interrupted whatever he’d been about to ask.
“Hey! I brought your clothes.” A gorgeous young, maybe twenty-two, Latina girl tossed a bag at him. She had waves of long curls with a deep purple streak along her left temple, capri jeans, and a tight T-shirt spread across her generous breasts. Together they made a stunning couple, all dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes, like the Boston equivalent of Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem.
The woman skidded to a stop in front of them. Blinked at the dirt that smudged his khakis and the sweat dampening his shirt. “Just in time.” She laughed as she said it but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Diego.
And that was Penny’s cue to get back to work.
“I checked us in.” The girl looked at Diego expectantly.
He nodded curtly.
“Sorry about the mix-up on your calendar.”
Diego snorted. “Mix-up? Is that what we’re calling it?” Even sweaty and slightly dirty, he was hot. And seeing him with the young cutie, Penny had enough. She still had hours of work ahead of her.
Well, this had been fun. Or not. But she couldn’t let him leave without thanks. “Thanks for your help.”
The girl’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You helped?”
“Zinnia.” He glared.
“Sorry,” she muttered, her gaze skimming over the morning’s work.
“No rest for me.” Penny dismissed him. “Have fun at camp.”
She had hours to go before her first official camp duties.
Diego raised his eyebrows. “You need any more help?”
“I’ve got it.” And she turned away from the sexy CEO and his gorgeous girlfriend.
5
Diego did not want to be here.
Cocktail parties were his least favorite part of being the CEO of his company. He had to attend them. He’d copped to that fact a long time ago but he still didn’t like them.
&nbs
p; He sipped his beer from the bottle, because yeah, he might be in the corporate suite now but he’d grown up in a garage surrounded by no-nonsense mechanics who saw no need to dirty a glass when the bottle worked just fine.
Around him, his employees mingled with the employees of London Automotive. He smiled tightly at Jeffrey London, the CEO of the business he was looking to merge with.
“This was a good idea.” Jeffrey London sipped on some fancy concoction with a sprig of greenery. “Quaint, provincial, and neutral for both companies.”
They were as opposite as hot and cold. Jeffrey came from a long line of upper crust Bostonians who had been in the states since the Mayflower, while Diego was second generation Puerto Rican from Dorchester. His parents hadn’t fared well here—that was putting it nicely— and Tío Raul had been an Army mechanic before he opened his garage.
On paper, their companies meshed extremely well. But in person, Diego had a hard time sustaining conversation that didn’t pertain to business with London.
“I can’t take credit.” Because Diego believed in transparency and giving recognition where it was due. “My assistant, Zinnia, suggested a corporate retreat. She found the venue and designed the program with the owners.” They’d rented out the entire camp for their private function.
The welcome cocktail party was in the old boathouse, which the owners had decorated with little white twinkling lights. A rustic bar set up in the corner served drinks, and round tables with white tablecloths and what looked like twigs and pinecones from the woods were piled in the center of the tables. The nature stuff was lumped artistically around flickering candles, he’d give them that.
He smiled politely at London and wondered how long he needed to stay at the party. He couldn’t wait to get back to his cabin and crash.
Penny Hastings slipped through the large doors of the boathouse. In a long flowy dress in a sage green, her auburn hair loose, cascading over her shoulders and curling delicately over her breasts, she glowed.
Delicate, vulnerable, ethereal.
She looked like a wood nymph or fairy. All she needed was flowers twined in her hair and she’d blend in with the woods as if she belonged there.
And Jesus, what was wrong with him? Wood nymph? Fairy?
He’d helped her this morning, her ethic more like a sturdy workhorse than a soft fictional creature. Diego shook off the fanciful thoughts and observed her. He seemed to be the only one at the party who noticed her hesitation at the entrance.
“Well, who is that?” London’s frosty demeanor perked up. “One of yours?”
“No.”
Before Diego could say more, London said, “Perhaps I’ll go introduce myself.”
London’s wife was not in attendance. She’d gone to Europe for the summer, which Diego knew because the man had mentioned it at least twice in conversation.
“That’s Penny,” Diego drawled. “She’s visiting staff for the camp.”
He hoped that since she was “the help” that might put London off. But if anything his attitude brightened even further.
“An introduction, please.”
He couldn’t approach her on his own? Diego gritted his teeth. “Sure.”
Michael Tully paused next to Penny and spoke to her for a few minutes. She nodded and he headed out of the boathouse. He’d mentioned earlier that Heather, their regular camp director and Michael’s wife, had the stomach flu.
After Michael left, Penny drifted around the room, pausing to speak with each group of people. Her smile open and relaxed, her face animated as she spoke with her hands. She charmed everyone she met. But her energy seemed to be waning as she made her way toward the bar, and Diego.
Earlier when they parted, he’d had the feeling she was annoyed with him. For which he had no idea why. After all, he’d helped her set up her damn boxes.
But he flagged her down anyway. If possible he’d try to warn her about London. Since he was Boston society, he was sort of surprised that Jeffrey London and Penny didn’t know each other.
Finally Diego was able to catch her attention. “Penny, this is Jeffrey London, CEO of London Automotive.”
“Nice to meet you.” She smiled but the weariness beneath her curling lips seemed obvious to Diego.
Then he realized she’d been going strong since five a.m. and it was closing in on nine. The sun had begun to set. The last time he’d seen her, when he’d moved his duffel from the lodge to his private cabin, she’d been sweaty and dusted in dirt from moving wheelbarrows full of soil from the giant pile to the beds.
“Pleasure is all mine.” Jeffrey lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her skin.
Really? Did that actually work?
And he wondered how Jeffrey London would feel if he knew that an hour ago Penny had been covered in fertilized loamy soil.
Penny removed her hand from London’s. Her expression didn’t change, but Diego sensed her discomfort. He leaned closer, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Just a club soda.” Her husky voice triggered a rush of arousal that took him unawares. “Thank you.”
“London?”
“Another of these.” Jeffrey London tossed back the rest of his cocktail and handed Diego the glass.
“So, Penny.” London literally turned his back on Diego to push them into a small bubble. “What is it you will be doing?”
Diego waited for a drink at the bar. The rest of the camp would be family-style meals and self-service bars but for the first night Zinnia had set up a more formal cocktail party. After the groups checked in, they had gotten tours of the camp grounds and activities available. Zin had presided over a quick ice-breaker activity that Diego had avoided. He hadn’t had a chance to check in with her to see how it went. Prior to this weekend, the employees from the two companies—with the exception of Diego, London, and their attorneys—hadn’t interacted.
When he got back to the pair, Penny was lecturing animatedly about her corporate garden program.
Jeffrey London might want in her pants, but he clearly had no interest in her project. His eyes were glazed, from a combo of boredom and consuming three martinis in less than an hour.
“Thank you, Ramos.”
Diego inclined his head. “Not a problem.”
Penny smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”
“So Farmer Hastings was pitching her employee garden idea?”
At first when she’d explained, he hadn’t been convinced, but the more she talked about the project her enthusiasm was contagious. And after just a day in the woods, and helping her, working with his hands, he was calmer, more relaxed, and feeling a sense of peace. While he needed to see more financial data and consider the startup costs, the idea was growing on him.
“Hastings?” Jeffrey London sneered. “Penelope Hastings?”
Penny lifted her chin, the vulnerable animated woman gone. “Yes.”
London snorted. “See you tomorrow, Ramos.” He disappeared into the crowd.
“Well, I’d best mingle some more.” Penny’s smile was forced, stiff, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Diego frowned as she stalked away. What was that about?
Penny crept out of the boathouse and headed for the dock.
God, she ached.
She sat on the dock, removed her strappy sandals, dipped her toes in the cool water, and lay back. The dark blue evening sky sparkled with stars. Peace settled over her as she relaxed against the warm wood. Sounds filtered in, a dreamy ballad playing in the boathouse, crickets chirping, the woods rustling with nocturnal creatures. Fireflies lit the campground, and the water from Lake Waawaatesi lapped gently against the pilings.
She let exhaustion wash over her. Once she’d stopped hauling the dirt, her arm muscles had stiffened almost immediately. Jeez, she was tired.
Penny’s jaw cracked as she yawned. Her eyes drifted closed as she listened to the music of nature.
She’d lived through plenty of cocktail parties when she’d been a kid. Learned the art of small
talk and how to identify the overserved in the room with just a glance. Attending a formal party never failed to remind her of her former life, the good and the bad all rolled in one.
She used to love getting dressed up. Her mother’s maid would curl her hair, and if it was a particularly special occasion, sometimes Penny would get to put a flower in her hair and be allowed to wear a little lip gloss.
But attending parties now reminded her of what happened after her parents had skipped the country and the news they’d swindled hundreds of thousands of dollars from their customers became common knowledge. The public censure on her, as if she’d had something to do with their crimes, had been intense. Jeffrey London certainly brought all that back. Eleven years and she was still being judged for her parents’ crimes.
Looking on the bright side, she would not be where she was today if that girl, who liked dressing up and attending parties, had grown up the way her life had originally been destined.
And she liked who she was, what she did.
She’d had enough money from her grandmother to purchase a working farm after college. She tended her organic farmland and hired kids from the local Ag programs to learn the business and help with labor. With her minor in accounting, she did her own books and was completely self-sufficient.
She loved her life, barring the fact that she was sometimes lonely. Late at night after her employees were gone and the chores were done for the day, it would be nice to share a meal with a lover. Share the mundane details of her day with someone. But if that’s all she had to complain about, she was incredibly lucky.
The musical sounds of the night lulled her into a semi-conscious state. She drifted on the summer night’s breeze, content to let everything flow around her.
“Penny?” Diego’s husky voice rumbled from the shore.
Dress shoes, loafers maybe, scuffed against the dock. Penny lay there knowing she’d have to get up in a second to resume her role as an ambassador for corporate gardens and the camp.
But for one more lovely moment, she just was.
“Penny.” An urgency that hadn’t been evident threaded Diego’s voice. He was running now. “Are you—is everything—”
