Winning the Cowboy Billionaire - Emmy Eugene Page 0,21

and Spur dropped the candle in surprise.

The glass shattered on the hard floor, and horror struck Spur right between the ribs. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, taking a step. His cowboy boots crunched over the broken glass though, and he froze again.

He looked from the mess on the floor to Olli, and she burst out laughing. Spur wasn’t sure if he should join her or just hold very still while she cleaned up.

“You’re digging yourself further and further into the hole,” she said as she went into the kitchen. “I mean, I just had the whole house cleaned, and the first thing you do is throw broken glass everywhere.” She retrieved a broom and dustpan, giving him a flirty grin while she did.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She started sweeping up the bigger pieces of glass, and they made tinkling sounds as they touched each other. “You thought it smelled good? That it would’ve worked for you?”

“Yes,” he said carefully, trying not to give too much away.

“What did you like about it?”

“The flowers,” he said.

“What else did you smell?” She bent over and swept the pieces into the dustpan, straightened, and paused as she looked at him, waiting for his answer. Her bright eyes were so wide, and she looked like she really wanted to learn from him.

“Something fruity,” he said. “Maybe.”

“Get Your Man is multi-layered,” she said, their eyes never leaving one another. Spur could barely breathe, and the little air he did take in stung his dry throat.

Olli spun away from him and took the glass to the trash can. She got a washcloth from the sink and came back, bending over to wipe the floor all around. Scratching noises met his ears as she picked up small shards of glass with the wet cloth.

She stood again and faced him, her cheeks flaming a little brighter than before. “What else did you get in the candle?”

“That was all,” he said. “Maybe something creamy. Milk or something.”

“It’s whey,” she said. “Very subtle, Mister Chappell. I think you get more bonus points for that.”

“More bonus points?” he asked.

“Yeah, you earned some this morning when you were the one in the garden and not someone from the ranch.”

“Good to know,” he said, as he’d be back in the morning with the plants he’d ordered at the nursery yesterday.

“Get Your Man has three fruits in it—mango, orange, and grapefruit. They’re the ones most associated with crispness and freshness. I call it tutti fruity.” She picked up another candle, and this one was Get Your Man too. She pointed to the words he’d bypassed.

Clean, Crisp, and Ripe For a Kiss.

Tutti fruity sat under Crisp.

“The floral scent is part honeysuckle and part rose. It’s ripe for a kiss.” She smiled at him quickly. “The cleanness comes from that whey you got. It’s very subtle, and most people don’t know how to identify it. Milk solids are almost sugary. I like the honey whey the best.”

Spur liked her the best, and he didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t know if he even should say it. “These haven’t been lit,” he said, his voice far too deep as it got stuck behind the emotion in his throat.

She looked up at him, those pretty eyes wide again. “Guess I haven’t found a man I want to get.”

7

“You sure?” Spur asked, and Olli dropped her eyes to his mouth to watch him form the words.

“I mean, not that I’ve invited anyone over for dinner or anything,” Olli said, her mind racing. “That’s when I’d light one of these.” She lifted her eyes back to his, because looking at his lips was far too dangerous. “When I’d ordered in a romantic meal and want to you know. Get him.” The last two words came out almost as a squeak, and Olli needed to get in control of herself before she lunged at the cowboy and kissed him.

She set the whole candle back on the entertainment shelf and gave him a wide berth as she went past the full-size couch back to the kitchen. “Thank you for the trivet,” she said, picking it up. Her voice came out normal, thank all the stars in the heavens. “I can put the cookies I bake on it.”

“Sure,” he said. “I kinda feel like you don’t need it though, because you just said you’d order in food for a romantic meal.” He scanned the kitchen behind her. “Do you not cook?”

“Not often,” she said. “I do love to bake, though. I make