The Burbs and the Bees - Cathryn Fox Page 0,64

her eyes. “Men!”

“We’re all the same, eh?” She laughs at my Canadian lingo, and I ask, “Did I miss anything?”

“No, I’m pretty soaked.” She lifts her arms and lets them flop back to her sides. “I believe you’ve now officially seen me at my worst. Hey, do you think you could use that solution on my dignity?”

Wind blows a strand of hair into her mouth, and I tug it away. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Says the man fully clothed and not reeking of skunk.”

“Stuff like this doesn’t usually happen around these parts,” I explain. “Skunks getting into homes is not normal.” Nope, not normal at all, and until she arrived, my life had been routine and…normal.

Normal?

Maybe I mean boring.

“I’m impressed, really,” I tell her.

“You should be.” She waves her arms over her body. “A city girl losing a fight with a skunk. That is impressive.”

“No, Alyson.” I touch her shoulders. Her gaze moves to mine, and my throat tightens.

Holy shit, Jay. Don’t fall for her.

I swallow and focus my thoughts. “You’ve taken on an orchard you know nothing about, you’re running a market that’s completely foreign to you, and now you’ve been skunked. I don’t know any other woman who could take all that and still smile about it. If that’s not impressive, I don’t know what is. If your people can’t see that, then they all need CAT scans.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

She chuckles softly. “Thank you. You and your family have been so kind, Jay.”

“Canadians,” I tease, my gaze dropping to take in the nook on her top lip, so lush and kissable.

“If you want to know,” she begins and casts me a glance, “I don’t like to ask because I don’t want people to see just how little I know about…everything.” She snorts, making light of it, but I get that she’s telling me something very private, something that weighs heavily on her shoulders. “I’m an English Lit major. What the hell do I know about any of this?” she asks.

“I know as much about English Lit as you do about farming, but you’re giving it your damn best shot, and that takes courage.”

“I just don’t like when people look for the worst in me, or expect it, you know?”

Yeah, I know. It’s exactly what I did to her, and she’s going to hate me.

How can I possibly fix this?

Chapter Thirteen

Alyson

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get that scent out of my nostrils.” I visibly quake as we scrub the dining room walls with a solution Jay’s mother put together for us. I appreciate it more than she’ll ever know. Cleaning skunk spray is not in my wheelhouse. Not much is, but despite that, Jay boosted my confidence earlier, telling me he was impressed with my efforts. My stupid head swelled from his compliment more than I would have liked, and dammit, I’m really starting to like this guy. Then again, how could I not feel a warmth for a man who continues to help me, even though he knows I don’t belong here?

Water drips down Jay’s arm, soaking the sleeves on his T-shirt as he lifts the sponge and washes the higher parts I can’t reach. “Give it a week, and it will clear.”

I sniff the back of my hand and pull a strand of hair to my nose. “Well, at least it doesn’t take weeks to come off human skin and hair.” I dip my sponge back into the bucket. “You sure the guys don’t mind running the farm and market for me today?”

“They don’t mind, and Tyler is trying to get on your good side. Something about your hot friend coming to visit.”

I laugh at that. “She’s too old for him, and she said she was coming, but I doubt she will.”

“Yeah? Why?”

I roll one shoulder. “Why would she want to leave New York and come here?” I say. Jay stiffens. Shoot, why do I keep insulting the man? “I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” He turns from me, his back muscles so tight, his shoulders are near his ears. “Broadway, espresso, shopping. I guess you must miss all those things.”

I scrub the wall and exhale an exaggerated breath. Do I miss those things? Heck, I’m not even sure I do. It’s clear my friends have moved on without me, and Lucy is only bored now that her boyfriend left her for someone else. My parents care about me, that much I know. But every time I go visit them, they cast disappointed

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