to pick up the produce. “I yelped. I was startled by your . . . client.”
“So was I. I’m sorry I startled you. Everything’s fine, Jas.” Katrina stepped outside and picked up an apple. An inappropriate urge to laugh came over her. Hadn’t she thought yesterday that a solid meet-cute was someone dropping their fruit for pickup?
Well. She dusted off the dirt on the apple. That meet-cute didn’t take into account the toll on the poor fruit.
Bikram only harrumphed. She helped the men with collecting the dropped items and took them inside. Bikram trooped in after her and unceremoniously placed the rest of the food on the counter, Jas following with the other two still-intact bags that had been sitting on the grass. He spoke to his brother over his shoulder. “I asked you to stock the kitchen last night.”
“This isn’t some Airbnb.” Bikram placed his hands on his hips. With the three of them in here, the small kitchen was crowded.
She cleared her throat. “Jas, this is your brother, right?”
“Yeah. Bikram, meet Katrina King.”
Bikram nodded at her, and she didn’t think she imagined the frostiness in that one gesture. “Charmed.”
She linked her hands in front of her. What a great first impression she’d made. “Thank you for your hospitality in letting me stay here. And the food. Again, I’m sorry I screamed.”
“Yeah. Well. Jasvinder asked for a favor, and he doesn’t do that often.” He gave her another hard look she couldn’t interpret, but spoke to Jas. “Gotta go work. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait.” Katrina faltered when Jas’s younger brother turned to her. “Would you . . . can I make you some breakfast?”
Bikram blinked at her, then shook his head. “No.”
Jas grunted, a warning grunt, and Bikram straightened. “No, thanks. Bye.” He walked out the door, tromping across the grass to get to the front of the house.
Katrina made a face at Jas. “Does your brother dislike me? For something more than startling him?”
Jas went to the sink to wash his hands. His shirt and jeans were pristine, even though he’d been up a tree. His brother looked like a rugged farmer. Jas looked like a model on a shoot where he was playing a farmer. Both men were making those looks work for them.
“How could he hate you?”
“Uh, well, I said dislike, not hate. You think he hates me?”
He turned off the faucet. “He neither hates you nor dislikes you. He literally met you five seconds ago.”
That made sense, and she tried to shake off the vibe she’d gotten. A couple of times she’d asked Jas if his family would like to come for dinner, but he’d declined, so she hadn’t pressed, unwilling to violate his boundaries.
Has he told them I’m a terrible boss? Or friend? Or human?
Nope. Jas would never do that, he was far too steadfast and loyal.
She had enough things on her plate. She’d shelve Bikram’s odd attitude for now. She started unpacking the bags. “I saw you outside setting up the cameras.”
“Yes. Can you give me your phone? I’ll add the surveillance app to it.”
She handed him her phone and got to work putting the produce away, but not before admiring the lettuce. “So fresh.”
“Almost everything is locally grown.”
“When you told me all those years ago that you’d grown up on a farm, I pictured cows and horses, not peach orchards.”
“Prunes, too. Or plums, I mean. I don’t know why, we call them prunes whether they’re dried or not.”
She smacked her lips. “My favorites. I would have made you bring bushels back every summer.”
“I thought mangoes were your favorite fruit.”
“I have multiple faves. What’s your favorite?” She asked the question casually.
He considered that with great gravity, like she’d asked him to pick a favorite parent instead of a favorite fruit. “I should say peaches out of loyalty, but I very much like strawberries.”
She filed that tidbit away. Seriously, like a slow drip, getting stuff out of him. “Ooh, look.” She waved a jar at him. “Canned peaches.”
“We don’t lack for preserved peaches, for sure.” He held her phone out to her, his face expressionless. “I think you got a text.”
She navigated to her messages, and nearly dropped her phone.
Is it cold? Is the place nice? Is your hot bodyguard keeping your body warm?
Oh holy hell. Jia, to their group chat.
Her face flaming, she glanced up at Jas, but he’d turned away to put the rest of the groceries away. Normally she preferred doing that, but she was too mortified to say anything