His comment stung like nettles. Had she been unfair to Jesse? She’d never get what she wanted by antagonizing him.
She blew out a breath and turned back to the plants. “Okay if I take some photos to help me remember which herbs we can use for Zora’s shop?”
“Be my guest. All the herbs are in this greenhouse. The others hold ornamental plants and spring bulbs.”
Forcing her gaze away from the frustrating farmer, she wandered the gravel aisles between planters, snapping photos and taking notes. After a few silent minutes, her restraint crumbled.
“Vervain protects against the evil eye, you know.”
“Uh huh,” he intoned in a flat voice.
“And catnip aids divination.”
“You don’t say.”
So much for conversation. Moving farther away, she snuck glances at him as he worked. When he bent over a low planter, his shirt rode up, baring a swath of muscular back. She nearly swooned.
Get ahold of yourself. This guy isn’t for you.He’d basically warned her off, anyway, and as enchanting as this place was, she could never be happy rooting herself to one spot, even one as dear to her as Trappers Cove. If she wanted another man—which, at the moment, she did not, thank you very much—she’d find a free spirit like herself, not a stodgy farmer.
Backing up to take a photo, she bonked into a solid wall of muscly male, then sprang back like a startled cat. “Sorry. Clumsy of me.”
“My fault.” He pulled a bandana from his shirt pocket and wiped his face and—oh Goddess!—rolled up his sleeves to display muscular forearms dusted with dark hair.
Her tongue thickened in her mouth.
Jesse inclined his head. “Let me show you the mint bed. You said Zora wanted to make tea.” He led her to a low bed brimming with different varieties.
“This one’s my favorite. Chocolate mint.” He plucked a sprig and held it to her nose. As she took it, their hands brushed, and her whole body tingled in response. His deep, rumbly voice continued, but his words got lost in the horny haze enveloping her.
“Gemma?” He gently squeezed her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fine. Fine. I’m fine.” She giggled nervously. “Just a little off balance. Guess I should’ve eaten something before coming out here.”
The faintest hint of a smile played across his lips. “Come into the house. I got you up this early. Least I can do is give you breakfast.”
“No, no, I—”
“Listen.” His grin widened. “I need a break too. I’ve got zucchini muffins and my grandma’s special winter tea. It’ll warm you right up.”
Heart skittering, she followed him down the gravel path and up the porch steps into a cozy kitchen. While he filled the electric kettle and slid muffins into the toaster oven, she took in her surroundings. Not stodgy at all. Homey and traditional, for sure, but with personality and attention to comfort. The tabletop was cut from a single slab of wood, its natural grain and rough edges showing the spirit of the tree that birthed it. Heavy, rustic chairs were topped with plush cushions. A pellet stove in the corner radiated warmth. In the center of the table, a hand-thrown pottery vase held dried flowers and herbs. Every detail blended to weave a relaxing, welcoming space.
He waved toward the table. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable.”
Watching him work at the rough-hewn wooden counter, she was struck with another vision—Jesse bending her over that same counter in a deep kiss, his strong hands tunneling under her clothes, grasping, kneading, teasing her to peak after peak of pleasure…
“Goddess help me,” she muttered, fanning herself. Must be low blood sugar.
He set a pottery mug of steaming tea before her. His brow rumpled. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.” She grinned up at him, probably looking a bit rabid.
He slid a plate of muffins toward her, along with a homespun cloth napkin. “Grandma’s recipe—nothing fancy. You know how it is with summer zucchini—you always harvest more than you can use.”
She inhaled the sweet scent of nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon, then took a bite. “Delicious.” They chewed in silence for a moment, Jesse’s eyes never leaving her face. Was he afraid she was going to pass out in his kitchen? One more sexy vision, and she just might.
She cleared her throat. “Well, thanks for letting me look around your greenhouse. All that healthy oxygen must’ve stimulated my brain. I’ve got all kinds of cool ideas cooking.”
“Do tell.” He quirked a dangerously dazzling smile.
