All I Am. Nicole Helm
Читать онлайн книгу.
flimsy canvas shoes.
“Buttercups! Oh, my favorite.” Shiny yellow petals sprouted next to a big, flat rock Wes stopped at. Spring had always been her favorite season. Spring had meant freedom as a kid. Everyone busy with the farm and the weather finally okay enough she could go out without Mom blowing a worry gasket.
Fresh air and freedom. It made her believe in new beginnings, far more than any January resolution did. So, maybe she needed to seek a little rebirth and new growth of her own.
Grow up. Leave Cara the screwup behind.
Not possible.
She ignored the jerk of a voice in her head and plucked the delicate flowers out of the ground, arranging a few in her hair. A little visual reminder that flowers could grow from nothing but dirt and water and a little sunlight. “How do I look?”
He’d situated himself on the rock, and Cara had a little inward sigh over his pretty eyes before he looked down. Blushing. Definitely blushing. He might have acted as if he didn’t care for her occasional flirting, but obviously he didn’t think she was repulsive.
Maybe he was shy about stuff like that. For some reason, the thought of gruff and grumpy Wes being shy made her feel all warm and squishy.
Which was not okay. At all. He was her boss, and aside from this and a few emergency shifts at the salon, she had no income. Because she hadn’t sucked up the courage to approach Sam again about the pies.
Well, buttercups as her witness, she would.
She settled herself next to Wes. And, yeah, maybe she didn’t have to sit so close, but she was feeling bold now. She handed him his sandwich; he handed her a Coke.
“This place is perfect.”
He cracked open his soda. “Yeah, I like it.”
“You do this every day?” With Phantom, Sweetness and the three other dogs sitting or lying around the base of the rock, it obviously wasn’t something new.
He made one of his grunt-yes noises as he bit into his sandwich.
“So, why organic dog treats?”
He lifted those broad, yummy shoulders—bad, Cara—but she pointed at him before he finished the motion. “No shrugging. You have to answer.”
“I said no chitchat.”
“It’s not chitchat. It’s an interrogation.”
He glared. Glowered. All frustrated irritation. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining him making that kind of look naked. If she did something sassy. And she would need to be punished.
Okay, if she were the blushing type, she’d be blushing.
“I was going to be a vet,” he grumbled, attacking his sandwich as if it had done something wrong. “But, you know, you need a steady hand.”
She had to try hard to not let the pity show on her face. It didn’t take a psychologist to figure Wes was not the kind of guy who would deal well with pity. Oh, but her heart did hurt for him. He obviously loved animals, and getting hurt had ended his chance to be a vet.
Geez, this guy was a sob story. Usually those made her run in the opposite direction. Hurt feelings and tough emotions were not her forte, but Wes made everything that usually freaked her out seem irresistible.
Well, you better do some resisting, Cara Pruitt.
“So, anyway, my mom had opened an organic grocery store in California and done pretty well, and it gave me the idea for organic pet food stuff. Did some research. Set up a business. Blah, blah, blah.”
“That’s pretty amazing. Starting your own business. I watched Mia do it, and she had a farm to start with. It’s really impressive you put together a whole business you can sustain yourself and a bunch of animals with.”
He stared into the creek. “It’s okay.”
“Right. Well, I’m impressed. I can’t even make myself go after a job I want, let alone start my own business.”
“What’s your excuse?”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Cave under pressure. Useless with expectation.” She nudged a few pebbles with her foot. “I’m working on it.”
“I would freaking hope so.”
There was an undercurrent in the way he mumbled it. Kind of mean. The meanest she’d ever heard him sound. Even meaner than when he’d yelled at that lady at the market. “Huh?”
“Sorry, no patience for that bullshit.” He stood, shoving his empty baggie and soda can in his pocket. He held a hand out for her trash, but she didn’t give it to him.
“What bullshit?”
“Not going after something you want because you’re afraid.” He made a “give me it” motion with his hand, which, for some reason, made her clutch the trash even tighter.
“I’m not afraid. That’s how I’m wired. Or whatever. I can’t handle it. I’ve tried.”
“You know what I have to say to that?”
“Something really nice and comforting?”
“Try harder.” With that, he let out a sharp whistle that had the dogs jumping to their feet and scrambling after his already retreating back.
Cara stared after him until he was a few feet away. Sweetness stood at the top of the hill, whining at her. Only then did she move.
Oh, hell, no, that had not just happened. He had not barked “try harder” at her as if she was some soldier. She might be his employee, but she took orders from no one.
And he was about to find that out.
WES HAD WARNED HER. That was his one and only defense. Before he’d offered her the job, he’d warned her he sucked with people. So, you know, she could not be surprised that he’d been a total jerk.
Sure.
He stalked back to the barn, headache inching its way up the base of his skull. A ball of tension, dull for now. He forced Monster back inside, even though the dog whined. Usually he let both dogs out on their runner in the afternoon, but right now he needed to get inside the cabin.
Inside and away from the woman stomping toward him looking as if she was going to beat him up.
He’d probably let her. He didn’t know where all that stuff had come from. It certainly wasn’t his place to tell her she was wrong and ridiculous, even if she was. So much for trying to be pleasantly friendly to coworkers. He couldn’t even get that right.
“You have no right to say that stuff.”
He shrugged. “True enough.”
She opened her mouth, and her eyebrows drew together. She huffed out a breath. “I—you—oh, I could punch you.”
“I’d apologize, but...” He was an idiot. Apologize and but did not go in the same sentence. He knew that, but, well, he didn’t feel like apologizing. She was fully functional and apparently had the opportunity to do something she loved, and she had caved?
She was gorgeous, funny, personable and, from all accounts, had a decent family life. What excuse did she have for not going after her dreams?
“But what?” she demanded, hands fisted on hips, muddy shoes tapping on the soggy grass.
“Would you be so angry if I wasn’t right on the money?”
Her mouth dropped open, her foot stilling and hands dropping to her sides. She looked frozen. Like a statue or one of those mannequins that only came to life when someone wasn’t looking.
“You—”