“That looks fantastic,” Beckett’s voice said from behind her just as she was swiping a strand of hair off of her forehead. Gardening wasn’t nearly as sweaty as hiking, but it wasn’t easy either.
Presley didn’t love the way lust pooled low in her belly just from the gravelly tenor of his words. Nor did she appreciate the way her heart full-on lurched in her chest when she faced him.
Those aviation sunglasses were blocking his gaze, but she knew it was pointed right at her.
“Uncle Beck. We need to grab some seeds. We’re going to plant stuff. Look what we did.” Ollie grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.
“We worked hard. I’d say we earned some iced tea, or possibly something stronger,” Mel said, winking at Presley.
“Like coffee?” Ollie asked.
The three adults laughed. “Sure,” Mel said.
“Why don’t you and Mel go check with Mom and see what we have?” Beckett said.
Mel gave them a knowing look before taking the little girl’s hand and heading off toward the lodge. The others had scattered a while ago. Presley couldn’t believe how long it had taken to create a little garden that they hadn’t even planted anything in.
Refusing to think too much about how good Beckett looked, or how easy she was to walk away from without a goodbye, she picked up the trowel, shovels, and garden gloves they’d found. “I should return these to your shed.”
“I’ll go with you,” Beckett said.
They walked quietly to the shed that was housed on the side of the lodge. Anticipation and uncertainty poked at Presley’s skin, throwing her off-balance. There was another outbuilding farther back on the property—kind of like a barn but not quite as big. Beckett opened the door and held it for her while she put the tools back on the workbench.
When he closed it, locked it up, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and Presley’s stomach plummeted. She could hear the speech now:We shouldn’t do this, act on whatever this is between us. Kissing you was a mistake. You’re making too much out of nothing. Like you always do.
“I thought if I stayed away last night, I’d come back with a clearer head. But one look at you and I forget all of the reasons I shouldn’t kiss you.”
Presley sucked in a breath. As far as apologies went, that was damn good. It just didn’t erase the “but” she worried would follow.
She swallowed, glanced at his lips before meeting his eyes. “You have reasons?”
He stepped a little closer, brought his hand to her cheek. Instead of cupping it, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. It was about the least seductive thing he’d done. Her emotions were ping-ponging, smashing one way, then the other.
When she furrowed her brows, looking up at him with her nose crinkled, he laughed. “You have dirt all over your cheek.”
She’d forgotten about everything that had happened before this minute. She was a mess. “I need a shower.”
His eyes lit up like she’d struck a match in the dark. Clearly, he didn’t mind what he saw. “You’re leaving in a few days.”
She nodded slowly. He dropped his hand. “Six. That’s a few doubled.”
“Exactly,” he said with a wry grin.
Presley laughed. “Well, we have the math figured out.”
He shook his head. “You seem like the kind of woman a guy doesn’t get over.”
Her heart muscles tweaked. “I have it on good authority that’s not true.” She meant it to be funny. Self-deprecatingly funny.
Beckett’s gaze heated in an entirely different way. “No. You don’t. That loser doesn’t count.”
She sort of loved how protective he was on her behalf. Like the waitress that day. On her side even without all of the facts.
“You’re right. On both counts. I’m leaving and he was a loser. But I’m here for less than a week and I like you, Beckett. I came here thinking I was going to hide away in my room, watch Netflix, and eat my feelings. Instead, I’ve met awesome people, caught a fish, hiked, and even gardened.”
“Not what you expected, huh?”
Nothing was like she expected. Or planned. His hands were now clenched at his sides in tight fists. Her own fingers itched to touch him, run her hands over his chest, up into his hair. She’d never felt this level of attraction and wondered if it was because of the fleeting factor. Or the getting dumped factor. Or so many other factors she didn’t really want to examine right now.
