She groans again.
“Why don’t you tell me all about it, doll?” he says, leaning closer to her. His ambient chill gives her goose bumps. “I’m a very goodlistener. It’s mostly what I did around here until you got here, you know.”
“Literally none of our interactions corroborate your ability to listen to anyone other than yourself,” she says into the afghan.
Everett stands and brings a hand to his chest as if she’s wounded him. “Ouch.”
“Sorry. I just think I’d rather be alone right now, Ev.”
She doesn’t particularly feel like talking at the moment. Not when her cheeks are still hot with the embarrassment of rejection and the ache between her legs refuses to subside. She’s going to need to take care of that as soon as Everett gets out of her room or she’ll never get to sleep tonight.
Yolanda was right. She should have packed her vibrator.
“Fine,” Everett says. “We can discuss this tomorrow.”
“Can we, though?”
“Yes. You owe it to me, Gretch. We’re supposed to be a team. How are we supposed to work together to keep Charlie here if you don’t keep me informed about what’s going on between you and him?”
“Nothingis going on between us,” she snaps. “So there’s really nothing of which to inform you.”
“Oh. Oh, I see.” Everett flashes her his crooked smile. “You struck out, huh? Well, now. Unexpected, I have to say. But this is something I can help with.” He winks. “I was a real cake-eater in my day, you know.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Gross.”
“What? It just means I had a way with the ladies.”
“Still gross. And I don’t need your advice. I’m not you, and Charlie isn’t one of the horny farm girls you fooled around with behind the chicken coop.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t—”
“Yes, it does,” Gretchen interrupts. “Please, go away.”
“You need to figure this out soon.”
“You think I don’t know that?” But Everett is through the wall before she finishes shouting the words.
22
Gretchen never did get to talk to Charlie about her ideas to increase Gilded Creek’s profits, and apparently they are avoiding each other today. It’s fairly easy to accomplish, considering her mornings have settled into a routine—wake up at five thirty; eat a bowl of flavorless fiber cereal; help corral the goats for milking, reunite the babies and their moms for the day; refill the goats’, dogs’, and barn cats’ food and water; and head back to the house for lunch—so it’s not particularly challenging for Charlie to ensure he’s anywhere else but around her. He even dismissed her from the milking room as soon as she got the goats in line, presumably hoping to avoid even the possibility of any minor non-animal-related interaction between them.
As she crests the small hill on her way to run down the checklist Lori left for the cheesemaking room while she’s with her daughter this weekend, she spots Charlie at the far end of the pasture, inspecting the fence. Pretty much as far away from her as physically possible without leaving the property.
Well, fine.It’s not like I particularly want to talk to you either.
Want to or not, though, Gretchen does need to talk to Charlie soon. She has plenty of ideas, but she’s running out of time to implement them before she goes back to DC. And if she can’t make this work...
Everett’s teasing while she ate her lunch bounces around in her skull:Charlie and Gretchen sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes... Well, first comes you, doll, if you’d let me give you some advice.She never should have admitted anything about what happened last night to that stupid ghostly jerk.
When she finishes up on the barn’s second floor, she looks back out into the pasture, her eyes once again immediately drawn to Charlie. And maybe his gaze feels her pull as well, because he looks up just then and sees her. It’s quite a distance, but Gretchen’s certain she spots his eyes go wide before he ducks his chin and pretends he’s inspecting the tool in his hand.
Really.And Everett believes seducing Charlie will help win him over! If this is any indication, Gretchen thinks, had things in the parking lot managed to progress any further, Charlie would probably have walked into the woods and kept on going until he reached the Atlantic Ocean. Then he would have hopped on a boat, sailed to Europe, and continued walking for extra insurance.
“This is ridiculous,” she says to herself as she makes for the pasture. Her eyes comb over the luscious spring-green expanse, dotted with the few bright yellow dandelions and gorgeous purple wood violets that haven’t yet been munched away. She ensures the goats are all browsing at the far end and none will attempt to escape (or try to eat her, which she’s still not fully convinced isn’t a thing that could happen after spending more time with them),and that the dogs are occupied with the herd, then opens the gate and marches through. Gretchen Acorn is a woman on a mission. And that mission is to help save this stupid, beautiful goat farm and its stupid, beautiful farmer.
“Hey!” Gretchen realizes her mistake as soon as she shouts; she’s still a good fifty yards away from Charlie, and she’s prematurely alerted him to her presence. But who would have thought, truly, that a grown-ass man would pretend not to hear her and walk with purpose in the opposite direction? “Charlie Waybill!” It comes out as an angry grunt as she picks up speed. She has to jog in order to keep up with his quick strides, and it isn’t particularly easy in cheap rain boots with an iffy ankle. He glances over his shoulder as he continues to put more distance between them.
“I’m busy!” he calls back to her.
