Careful, Jane. You thought Carl was pretty special too, and look what happened. Don’t let good first impressions—or even wonderful, sweet, relaxed, warm-in-the-belly-like-apple-cider impressions—cloud your judgment.
You’re still healing and you don’t need to jump into anything blindly.
These are all the things I have to tell myself at the end of the day when I have to do the thing I don’t want to do.
I have to quit my job.
Chapter Seven
Henry
Jane politely turns down my offer of an iced tea on the porch to celebrate her first day.
Both of us are dirty from head to toe, and she looks like she could use some pampering, but I don’t say that. I’ve learned not to ever tell a woman she looks tired.
I’m preparing the list of things I will need to go out and buy or collect tonight to do the things she wants me to do before the pumpkin patch opens, when I see a certain look on her face. I don’t like it.
Don’t get me wrong. I love her face. I could stare at that face for weeks, months, years, and never get bored of it. It’s the cutest and sweetest face I’ve ever seen. I want to kiss her on the nose.
But she looks like she’s got something really bad to tell me. Her fingers fiddle with some chipping paint on the porch column.
“What’s up?” I ask.
She’s getting cold feet about this job. She’s heard things about me and she’s having second thoughts.
Can’t say I blame her.
But when Jane speaks, it doesn’t reflect the body language I see.
“I…I just wanted to thank you for the job. For taking a chance on me.”
Relieved, I reply, “Oh. Sure. No problem.”
No problem? That’s all you have to say?
The rest comes tumbling out of her in a hurry. “I’m so sorry to do this to you, Henry, but I can’t work here.”
“Because we kissed?”
“No,” she says softly, averting her gaze.
One thing I don’t stand for is lying, whether it’s to me, to other people, or people lying to themselves.
I lean in to study her face, all but demanding she look at me. “Are you sure about that?”
She nods resolutely. It’s cute how her chin juts out.
“You’re not telling me the truth, Jane.”
She blinks rapidly. “Is that so?”
I grin. “You don’t want to work here because you’re afraid of your feelings for me. You can’t handle that you felt something when we kissed.”
Her nose and forehead crinkle in disgust. “I was waiting for the ego to show up. That makes it easier.” With virtual storm clouds raging in her head, she brushes past me and scurries toward her car.
“Whoa,” I say, turning to catch up to her. That wasn’t ego talking. I only said that because I felt it too.”
She keeps walking down the rutted path to her car but slows when I catch up to her to explain myself.
“I only meant we had a moment, we kissed. I felt things, you felt things.”
She scoffs. “Unprofessional things. What if we have more feelings and more things happen, but then we drift apart and I’m stuck in a job that I love with a boss who’s my ex-boyfriend?”
I can’t help it, the word boyfriend makes me very happy. “You want me to be your boyfriend?”
“Ugh! What an ass!”
I have to laugh; she’s not wrong. “It’s true. I’m a complete ass, just ask Jet.”
When she arrives at her car, she stops. Turning to face me, she says, “Apparently I don’t need to ask. Everyone in town is ready at every turn to give me their Ted Talk about why I should avoid Henry Wood.”
And there it is. Wow. OK, then.
Well, fine.
Her long hair falls into her face as she digs her keys out of her bag. With keys in hand, she tucks her locks behind one ear and I see a glint. A tear? No way. Nobody in their life has ever cried over me.
Suddenly all kinds of things begin to happen in my body. My lungs still, my chest has that weird ache again from yesterday. Yesterday, she was leaving in her car, and today, she’s leaving again. You don’t want her to leave, idiot. And now I have the urge to hug her, but it comes out as me blocking the door with my body.
Jane jerks back from me, white-knuckling her keys. “You’re blocking me from my car? That’s not a cool move when you’re alone with a female.”
She’s right. I have to get control of myself. This is not in my nature to try to control people.
I move my stupid body away from the car door. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you can go. Just…please come back tomorrow. I need you.”
She glances up at me, wariness in her eyes.
“We’ve established that I’m clueless when it comes to”—I wave my hand around aimlessly to indicate everywhere around the property—“stuff.”
“Cutesy-wootsy autumn stuff and pumpkin spice everything?” she offers, smirking.
“That’s not the words I would use but OK, sure.”
Again, Jane nibbles her bottom lip, her eyebrows pushed together in apprehension. After a moment of consideration, she says, “Look, I’m sorry I said what I said earlier about the town gossips. That was a low blow. And I’ll help you out tomorrow. But I can’t take money from you.”
“Why not?”
“Because we might end up kissing again.”
I lean over the hood of her car and try to rub the stupid grin off my face. “When? When…uh…do you think we might do that again?”
“How about let’s just be friends first and see where we go,” she says.
I grab my stomach. “Friend zoned. Already. Ouch.”
“Henry,” she says, “as much as I’d love to stand here and banter with you, I have to go get Sarah. Rocket and Jet are going to a movie tonight. And I’m desperate for a shower.”
The words “desperate” and “shower” hit me in an interesting place. I think of water droplets, her long hair
