“I don’t remember this building being white. It’s in remarkable shape for a storage barn. When did you stop housing hay and grain here?” Presley’s head tipped back as she looked over the exterior of the barn.
Evan popped the latch and slid the barn door open with a dramatic whoosh. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Right after the fire.”
4
“And then…nothing.” Presley shifted the watering wand to her other hand and drifted the spray over a row of Chinese Hibiscus. Brightly colored and full of life, her latest batch of plants were almost ready to be moved from the greenhouse to the sales area. “It was like he just checked out.”
Evan’s abrupt change of attitude yesterday had left her head spinning. He’d seemed genuinely happy to see her. The smile on his handsome face had almost knocked her panties right off—a condition she decided was perfectly acceptable now that she was single. At any rate, Evan had acted playful and charming. He’d called her sunshine, and then…bam! Captain Grumpy Pants.
She’d gotten the feeling that Evan’s sudden change of mood had been directly related to his mention of the fire, but to question him had felt too much like poking a bear. He’d only been back in her life for a minute. It was too soon for poking of any kind.
“Is the barn in good shape for the wedding?”
Presley swung toward her baby sister, who also happened to be her best friend and business partner.
“That’s hardly the point, Emilia.” Although the actual point now escaped her. Damn it. To emphasize her annoyance, Presley flicked her wrist, sending a wave of water through the air.
Emilia screeched and ducked out of the incoming spray. “I believe that’s exactly the point,” Emilia said, laughing. “You were there to check out a venue, not to analyze your ex-boyfriend’s personality disorder. I couldn’t care less if Evan Lancaster got his butt in a twist. Slap a lemon on it, and call it Karma, baby.”
Emilia’s unique way of expressing herself had Presley fighting back a grin. “He doesn’t have a personality disorder.”
“That you know of,” her sister said with a slow nod.
“Be nice, Em.” The request was futile. Her sister’s abundance of don’t give a fuck shorted out her verbal filter more often than not.
Emilia snorted. “I’m nice to people who deserve it.”
Presley opened her mouth to comment, but as she rounded the end of the row of hibiscus and stepped into a puddle of water, her thoughts changed direction.
“Was someone in here this morning?” Masters Flower House and Greenery employed a modest-sized staff. The greenhouse was one of four on the property. Each had an independent sprinkler system, but Presley preferred to do the watering by hand. Everyone knew that.
“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
“There’s water on the floor over here.” Normally, she wouldn’t be concerned, but they’d recently had an issue with a faulty water valve that had caused one of their flower gardens to flood. They couldn’t afford to lose a greenhouse full of hibiscus.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Em said, blowing it off.
Presley hoped she was right.
Em grabbed a set of pruning shears and went to work. “Are you gonna tell me about the barn, or what? Will the original arrangements we had planned work for the space?”
“We might have to make a few adjustments, but the barn is perfect. There’s a ton of space. It’s filthy, of course, but Evan assured me he would get it cleaned out and ready in time.”
Em’s gaze narrowed, and her nose crinkled. “And you believe him?”
Wow. Hostile, much? “Why wouldn’t I?”
Emilia followed Presley along the row of flowers, trimming weak stems as she went. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because this guy has a history of not doing what he says he’s going to do. Or have you forgotten?”
“You certainly seem intent on reminding me,” Presley said under her breath.
“I was there, remember? You cried for weeks. It was so…dramatic.” Em shuddered.
A strange mixture of embarrassment and pain fluttered in Presley’s chest. Evan had been her first love. She truly had thought her world had come to an end. How silly it all seemed now, in retrospect. She had yet to shed a tear over Brad’s departure.
“Love at sixteen isn’t capable of being anything but dramatic.” Before the last word was out of her mouth, the water stopped flowing. “We’re not kids anymore, Em.” What the crap? She flipped the on/off valve on the watering wand. Still no water. “That was a long time ago. People grow up. They change.” She dropped a hand to her hip and spun to look at her sister. “Are you messing with me?”
“What are you talking about?”
Presley showed Em the wand. “No water.”
“Did you pay the bill?”
“Funny, Em. Stop fooling around. I need to get these watered so I can tend to the roses before that contractor gets here to pick up the shipment of slate.”
“It wasn’t me.” And like a dog with a bone, Em continued. “Has Evan changed?”
How should she know? Right now, she had other things to worry about. “I’ve only seen him twice.”
Presley bent down to check the hose. She had a tendency to get it wrapped around the plant tables when she wasn’t paying attention. She ran her hand along the line but found it smooth and crimp-free.
“Em, check the main valve, please.” She straightened to find Emilia scrutinizing her. “What?”
“Be careful, Presley. I know how much he meant to you. I know that was a long time ago, but what if those old feelings come rushing back?”
“Can we talk about this later?” Presley set the wand on the floor and headed to check the main valve for herself. “The lack of water seems to be the more pressing issue.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Em’s words stopped her. Presley’s heart melted for her baby sister. She went to her, put her hands on Em’s shoulders, and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. Evan and I are helping our mutual friends. Nothing more. Once the wedding is over, we won’t have any need to see each other again. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Presley pulled Em against her and squeezed her tight, just as the overhead sprinklers exploded to life.
It occurred to Evan that he shouldn’t stare. The blame for his inability to connect thought with action stirred in his shorts.
What was before him played out like a porn fantasy he hadn’t known he’d had.
Water sprayed hard, and in every direction, as if he’d waltzed into a drive-thru carwash instead of the greenhouse where an employee had told him he would find Presley.
Evan found her all right. Every delicious, dripping wet inch of her.
Presley’s drenched ponytail swung from side-to-side as she surveyed the area. Water dripped from her chin and jaw. The wet T-shirt molded to her body, exposing her bra and a tantalizing hint of the dark nipples underneath the lace.
“Grab the tarp!” she shouted. “Em! We have to get these covered.”
In his mind, Presley gripped the wet hem of her shirt. She turned to him and slowly rocked her hips, easing the fabric up her body, silently begging him to touch and taste her creamy skin.
“Evan. Evan!”
Oh, yeah. Baby.
Something solid hit his chest. Evan looked down. Presley’s palm. Without thinking, he wrapped his hand around hers and held her against him. He ran a finger down the ridge of her nose, wiping away the water, but he didn’t stop there. Living out the fantasy, he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Leaning in to find out.
Presley’s eyes flared wide as she jerked back. “What are you doing?”
Evan froze.
What was he doing? Jesus. What the fuck was he doing?
Evan dropped her hand. “Sorry. I—I came to apologize—”
“There’s no time for that. Grab an end.” Presley shoved a tarp
into his hand. “We need to get these flowers covered before they drown.”
“He’s too busy gaping at your boobs to be any help to us.”
Evan ignored the snarky comment from the woman he didn’t recognize. He sprang into action, happy to have a task rather than Presley’s wet body to think about. “Give it to me. I’ve got this. You cover the other row.”
Evan shook out the tarp, his own clothes now heavy and wet. His height made it easy to fan out the tarp and let it glide onto the flowers. He was careful, though. The flowers looked delicate, and he didn’t want to be the cause of their demise.
Water rained down on them as Presley and the snarky one draped another tarp.
“Is there a main shut-off valve?”
“It’s…uh…”
Evan felt a jolt of satisfaction at the way Presley’s gaze lingered over his chest. He wanted her to look, if only to prove the attraction wasn’t one-sided. Clearly, it wasn’t.
The snarky one elbowed Presley then answered his question, “It’s around back.”
“I’m on it.”
Evan ducked out. Wiping water from his eyes, he jogged around to the back of the greenhouse. By the time he located the valve, cut off the water, and made it back to the front of the greenhouse, Presley and the woman were standing outside. Customers, along with a few of the men wearing nursery logo shirts, had stopped to stare at the women. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the reason they gawked.
A rumble that sounded suspiciously like a growl came from his chest as he approached the women.
“Do you have a towel?” he demanded.
Presley looked confused for a second. “Yeah. Sure. There’s some in the office if you—”
“Not for me.” He got in her space, blocking the view from the men lingering around. “For you,” he gritted out, forcing his gaze to stay on her face and not travel lower.
Presley’s cheeks turned pink. She glanced down and immediately grabbed her shirt, yanking it away from her body. “Oh, God.”
The snarky woman shoved at him. “Back off. She doesn’t need you in her space.”
Evan almost laughed at her attempt to move him. Her lean, runner’s body was no match for his military-honed physique.
“Emilia, please,” Presley said. “Could you run get us some towels?”
Evan narrowed his eyes. “Emilia? As in the little pest who used to beg to go with us everywhere we went, Emilia?”
The girl cocked some serious brow as Evan searched her face, looking for any indication that this fireball with the mouth and unnaturally red hair was Presley’s baby sister. He found what he was looking for in her eyes. They were almost the same shade of green as Presley’s.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Genuine affection curled his lips. Em was a pest, but Evan had always liked her. “Look at you. All grown up. You look good, sprite.”
He moved to hug her, but Em pressed her palm against his chest. “Save it, beefcake. Your charm is no good here.” Emilia stepped back. She pointed at him, mumbling under her breath, her look stern. Then, she turned and trounced off.
What the hell? Evan sputtered a laugh. “Did she just put a curse on me?”
“Quite possibly.” Presley picked at the front of her shirt. She crossed her arms. Uncrossed her arms. Flattened her palms over her chest.
At the sight of her cupping her own tits, Evan groaned. “Jesus, Presley.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Don’t…”
Evan wasn’t the only man watching the show. He didn’t know how long it would take Emilia to get back with the towels. He had some in his bag in his truck, but stepping away from Presley didn’t seem like a good option. He didn’t want to expose her like that.
Plan B.
Evan bent down, scooped Presley into his arms, and started walking.
She kicked her legs. “Hey! Put me down.”
“No. My truck is out front. I have towels and extra shirts in the back. It’ll be faster than waiting for Emilia.”
“You don’t have to carry me. I can walk.”
“And give all of your customers a front row seat to the wet T-shirt contest?”
That shut her up. She relaxed against him.
Evan had never carried a woman before. Never had a need. The feeling of Presley’s soft body cradled against his and the knowledge that she trusted him to keep her safe…it was a heady feeling. Evan was surprised by how much he liked it.
“Thank you for your help.” She slid her arm around his neck.
His chest tightened at the sensation of her skin caressing his. What was it about this woman that left him so undone? He’d been with plenty of pretty women, but with Presley in his arms, he couldn’t conjure one face, one sensation, one instance where he’d been more content than he felt right then.
“You’re welcome. Do you know what caused the sprinkler system to go haywire? For a greenhouse system, I would think you’d want more of a mist than a downpour.”
Stepping off the curb to the parking lot, Evan slowed his steps, wanting to keep her in his arms a little longer.
“We’ve had the problem before.” Worry pinched her brow. “Last time, it was a faulty valve. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the sprinkler guy was trying to screw me.”
“Do you want me to take a look at it?”
“What? No. You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to.”
Evan felt a pang of regret as they reached his truck. He set Presley on her feet next to the door and fished his keys from his pocket. He opened the back-passenger door and grabbed a couple of towels from his bag. He handed one to Presley.
“Thanks.”
When she bent to dry her legs, Evan stripped out of his wet shirt and replaced it with a dry one from his bag. Since he didn’t want to drop trou in the parking lot, there was nothing he could do about his shorts, for now.
Presley finished drying off and wrapped the towel around her torso. With her tits safely covered, Evan finally took a breath. Avoiding temptation was exhausting.
Presley tilted her head and considered him. “You have experience with sprinkler systems?”
“We have them in every barn and building at the ranch. It’s cheaper to fix things ourselves, so I have on-the-job training.”
He kicked off his shoes then leaned against the truck to peel off his socks. He tossed everything onto the floorboard.
“I’m sorry you got wet.” She reached up and tugged at the band holding her hair into a ponytail.
“No harm done.” He shoved his bare feet into his extra set of running shoes, while watching Presley struggle with the tie tangled in her wet hair. She wasn’t going to get it out without help. He stepped closer and swatted her hand away. “Here. Let me.”
The minute he went to work the band, Evan realized he hadn’t thought this through. This close, he could feel her warm breath through the fabric of his shirt. The scent of sweat and honeysuckle tickled his nose.
He needed to stop this. Stop fantasizing about Presley doing wet stripteases. Stop finding reasons to touch her. Stop imagining they were anything more than acquaintances.
She’d given their association an expiration date. With any other woman, Evan wouldn’t have balked at the idea of a short fling. Hell, he probably would’ve insisted on it.
But this was Presley. If he got his hands on her, Evan knew deep in his gut that a few weeks wouldn’t be enough.
Evan worked out the tie, and her hair fell free. He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something stupid like run his fingers through it.
Presley did that for him, sighing with relief as she combed her fingers through the strands. Fuck, he wanted to bottle that sound and take it out at night when he was alone in bed.
She gazed up at him, almost shyly. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“I came to apologize for being a dick yesterday.” He hadn’t meant to men
tion the fire. He never talked about that night. Ever. Dredging up the memory had killed the playful vibe they’d had going.
“No harm done.” She repeated his words with a cheeky grin. Then, she touched his forearm—a light touch that sent a shock of electricity through him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He intended to stop there, but his mouth had other ideas. “I have some not so great memories tied up in that barn. Sometimes, they get the better of me.”
“I’m sorry.” she said softly. The sadness in her eyes tugged at his heart.
She probably deserved to know the truth. Presley had no idea how much she was wrapped up in that night. The anger. The hurt. The betrayal.
“It was a long time ago.” The truth didn’t matter anymore. He was over it. “And besides, the memories aren’t all bad.” His dick woke up as she licked her lips. “I remember the good stuff, too.”
“Evan.” She flattened her palm against his chest, and he knew he was going to do something stupid. No way around it.
He slid his arms around her waist. He leaned down, giving her ample time to move away. When she didn’t, he brushed his lips against hers.
“What are we doing?” Her breath was shaky and quick.
“I have no idea.”
But damn if he could stop.
5
Evan’s cell phone rang.
“Whooooa.” With a firm shift of the reins, Evan coaxed Majesty to slow. Instead of the gradual decrease in speed he expected, Majesty came to an abrupt halt, jarring his nuts as his ass went airborne for a split second. Before Evan could catch his breath, the filly tossed her head and bounced on her front hoofs, apparently unhappy her exercise session was coming to an end.
“Fuck,” he bit out. That hurt.
Evan made a noise with his tongue and expressed his displeasure with a squeeze of his knees. At the same time, he double-tapped the wireless earbuds he was wearing and answered the call.
“Hello?” He bent forward to pat Majesty’s neck. “You’re a feisty girl today,” Evan murmured to her.
“Ugh. Christ, Evan,” John hollered in his ear. “I did not need to hear that. I’m hanging up. Call me later.”
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