her against him. This time she pushed away, and he let her go.
“Hey, I’m a neophyte, remember?” she said, feeling shaky and still full of yearning. “I think this is going too fast for me. We haven’t even been on a date—and don’t tell me brunch with your grandmother counts.”
He winced. “No, that was certainly no date.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. A girl expects a lot when a cowboy asks her out.”
His slow smile almost made her change her mind about kissing him some more.
“A lot? Should I feel threatened by your expectations?” he asked.
“Probably not. The way every woman smiles at you, it seems you’ve met a few dating expectations,” she said dryly, sinking back to her own side of the pickup.
He linked hands with her again, his smile banked into earnestness. “I’m glad you’re giving this a try, Em. There’s more to life than figuring out your past or your future. You can live in the now, just like I try to do.”
“The now, huh?” She grinned, but inside she couldn’t help her curiosity. Was he hiding from something in his past, or didn’t he want to confront the future? Or a little of both? She was intrigued enough to want to find out.
He nodded. “The now. No expectations but enjoyment.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as bossy as you, Nate Thalberg.”
“Someone had to take charge and speak the truth about what was happening between us. I couldn’t have taken another moment working side by side on renovations.”
“So you’re saying that now you’ll feel free to seduce me instead of teach me to drywall?”
“Heck, no. I’m just saying that now I can be patient, knowing that I’ll have my shot.”
He raised her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm that sent shivers up her arm.
“We can have fun together. You won’t regret it, Em.”
She looked into his eyes, and although she was flattered and excited, she also felt a trace of fear. He was so . . . overpowering. Would she be able to date without entangling her emotions? Other people did. And she had strong motivation to keep things casual—college in the fall.
“Let me show you what we do for fun in these mountains,” he said. “It’s spring, the runoff is fast into the river valleys, the perfect time for whitewater rafting.”
She widened her eyes. “Are you kidding? That sounds scary, not fun. The movie theater is showing a forties romantic suspense film festival. It would give us so much to talk about.”
“Since when have we lacked for conversation?”
She laughed and batted her eyelashes at him.
“Then we compromise,” he continued. “Let’s do something outdoors as a first step. Let me take you hiking. The view from these mountains has to be seen.”
“It’s a deal. But you have to teach me to drywall first.”
“Blackmail. You play dirty. I like it.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “Now I have to get back to the ranch. We’ll talk.”
She felt like one big cliché, floating as she went inside her building and changed into old clothes. She glanced at the box of her mother’s things, then deliberately turned away from it.
The second-guessing about Nate began as she pried baseboard and trim. She was taking a chance, knowing it might hurt her in the end.
But if this was a mistake, she had damned well better enjoy it along the way.
Chapter Fourteen
Early the next morning, Emily removed the last of the damaged trim and baseboards, then showered and dressed for her first day’s training. She was at Monica’s Flowers and Gifts by ten for her first official tour and description of her duties—taking care of customers, placing orders, preparing simple flower arrangements, making bows, and, of course, dealing with the local craftspeople about their consignment items.
And through it all, Emily watched Monica at work, the way she knew so many of her customers and their tastes, or if they were tourists, the way she sensed how they wanted to be approached and made them feel at ease. Young lovers out for a stroll popped in for an impromptu rose. Expensively dressed older couples from Aspen, looking to spend a simple day together, toured all the little Main Street shops, intrigued by the crafts on display.
While Monica dealt with a bride’s mother about flower arrangements for a wedding shower, Emily washed the little china plates, with their tulip-and-daffodil pattern, on which Monica served the day’s pastry treat. The coffee cake was delicious, of course, but Emily