Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,19

other than a frozen meal—because let’s face it, that’s usually all I ever have for supper—I’m not sure how comfortable I am letting James cook for me. It feels too much like a date, although I’m pretty sure I’m the last woman in the world he’d be interested in. He seems aggravated every time he sees me.

James walks into the kitchen and drops the bag on the counter. “It’s just as easy to make stir fry for two as it is for one.”

Okay, so clearly not a date. “That sounds nice, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands me a bottle of wine. “Why don’t you open that up and let it breathe?”

After pulling open a drawer and grabbing the wine opener, I ask, “Do you want to cook first, or should we get to work on the garden?”

“Let’s discuss the garden. I like to put the steak in the freezer for a bit so I can cut it thinner. It’ll be more tender when it fries up that way.”

I pour two glasses of Merlot, reasoning it will breathe faster out of the bottle, and carry them into the living room. I indicate that James should take the club chair next to me while I sit down on the sofa next to a still sleeping Penny.

Instead of following my seating plan, he scoops up the puppy and takes her place. Penny wakes up long enough to lick his cheek, but almost immediately conks out again. He says, “I wonder if she was in that box for longer than today.”

“What kind of psycho would abandon such a precious baby? I mean, how hard would it have been to drop her on the doorstep of the Humane Society?” I reach over and scratch Penny’s ears, but as soon as I see my hand practically in James’s lap, I snatch it back.

“I don’t think people who abandon dogs are particularly known for their kindness,” he offers in a voice that tells me he doesn’t seem to have noticed my hand in a region it didn’t belong.

I open my laptop and click on the image I’d been studying before James arrived. “I was thinking we could turn the land into a secret garden. You know, plant something around it to camouflage the fencing, that way you could use a cheaper chain link and disguise it. You wouldn’t know it was a garden until you got inside.”

A slow smile takes over James’s face. I stare mesmerized as I once again notice how very handsome he is. I’m so preoccupied by his white teeth framed by his very kissable-looking mouth that I barely hear him say, “Vines might work, but trees would cast too much shade on the food we want to grow.”

I’m in no position to be thinking about kissing James. I don’t even like him. Yet strangely, that realization does little to extinguish the image that’s taken over my brain.

While clicking away on the keyboard, James decides, “Creeping fig might work really well.”

“Does it produce edible fruit?” I wonder.

“Americans don’t generally eat it, but in some other countries they turn it into a jelly or something.”

Curious. I’m always interested in trying something different. I’ll have to do some research on it. “Maybe we can plant a couple of different things to give it some depth.”

James types away. “It says here that deer generally stay away from wisteria. Not only would that be beautiful, but it would smell fantastic when it was in bloom.”

“Who’s taking care of this garden, anyway?” I ask. I mean an acre of food is no small thing.

“I think between me and Dale, we’ll have it covered to start, but after that Mom will probably have to hire somebody.”

“Who’s Dale?” I ask.

“He’s Chris’s husband. He’s in charge of landscape maintenance.”

“Doesn’t their daughter work at the lodge as well?” I ask, thinking how nice that their whole family is together.

“Megan is the zip-line instructor, but she does other stuff off season.” James changes the subject and asks, “Do you have any paper?”

I get up to grab a notebook. As I walk back to the loveseat, I realize how nice it is to have someone else in my home with me. I’ve enjoyed the last couple months of solitude, but it’s not what I’m used to.

When Romaine and I were together, we were always surrounded by people. We had a live-in maid and cook; there were gardeners and maintenance people; and, of course, there were his bandmates who practically lived with us when they weren’t