I shake a finger at her. “I know you, and no. That’s a terrible idea.”
I try not to think about how fresh-faced and lovely she is, with all that lush, golden hair cascading in trendy waves down to her waist.
I try even harder not to think of Caden’s reaction to his first glimpse of her.
My brow knits. Well, fine. If he’s going to get hot over a girl that is almost young enough to be his daughter, it shows what kind of a man he is. Yes, she’s ridiculously pretty and her cheeks are all rosy and plump. And her hair is right out of a shampoo commercial, and her body is tall and lean, and everything she wears looks fantastic on her.
But just because he can take advantage of her youth doesn’t mean he should.
She grins at me. “Why is it a terrible idea? Is he married or something?”
His I-9 form listed him as single. “No, he’s not married, but it’s not a good idea to get involved with someone you work with.”
“Why not?” She flashes me the gorgeous smile she uses to lure customers into buying copious amounts of rum. She’s got a gift that way. Not only does she have a sixth sense about what tastings will suit a person’s palate, she charms everyone she comes in contact with. Sales on her shifts are 20- to 30-percent higher than any other person who works the counter.
I frown. “Because it’s messy and can get complicated.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not looking to marry the guy, just have a little fun.”
Why does she have to make everything sound so easy? It’s annoying. I try another tactic. “Well, he’s in a position of power over you. I don’t need any Me Too movements to tarnish our good name.”
She laughs, shaking her head at me like I’m too stupid to live. “Okay, Mom.”
I stick my tongue out at her.
Her rich brown eyes narrow. “I think I see what’s going on here.”
“What’s that?” I spot Wyatt and Caden coming down another aisle, my brother still talking away, gesturing at the barrels.
Caden is wearing a faded blue work shirt that only highlights the broadness of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist and hips. And his jeans mold to him like a second skin.
I hate him. I really, really hate him.
“You want him for yourself.” Haley’s voice rips me from the sight of him and thoughts about his ridiculous body.
I scowl, feeling the first flush of heat climbing up my chest. “What? No! Why would you think that?”
Haley grins. “You’re looking at him like he’s double fudge chocolate cake.”
“Shut up!” My voice is a shriek. “I am not.”
She laughs. “Uh-huh, you’re thirsty.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” I gather my composure, lifting my chin high. “I want nothing to do with him.”
“Good.” She smirks. “Then I’m free to take a crack at him.”
“No!” I yell.
Her brow arches.
I clear my throat. “Because he’s too old for your shenanigans, and it’s my duty to protect your virtue.”
Why does he have to be one of those guys everyone likes and covets? I didn’t have these problems with Burt, who was sixty, his face weathered, craggy, and one only a mother could love.
She laughs. “One, I’m legal, and two, my virtue was lost a long time ago in the flatbed of Dylan Buckley’s Ford 150.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “One, you’re barely legal, and two, I’ve met Dylan Buckley, and he’s a baby compared to Caden. So in my mind, your virtue is still intact.”
She holds up her hands. “Okay, okay, I get it. You have dibs.”
My frustration knots like a ball in the middle of my sternum. “I’m not calling dibs.”
“Dibs on what?” Wyatt asks from behind me.
I swing around, and the second my gaze lands on Caden, the flush that threatened a moment ago blooms. “Nothing! What do you want?”
Wyatt’s head tilts. “I’m giving Caden the tour and thought I’d introduce him to Haley.”
“Great. Perfect.” I bite my bottom lip, repressing the desire to start expounding on unnecessary details that will only make me look worse than I already do. I wave in Caden’s general direction, refusing to make eye contact. “Haley LeBlanc, this is our new farm manager, Caden Landry.”
She beams at him, flashing straight white teeth. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
They shake hands, exchanging pleasantries while I fight the urge to scream, She’s too young for you into the wind.