Page 33 of Grit
She batted his hand away. “Don’t assume what? You pretty much told me we’re not friends, so—”
“Bullshit.” He glared at her. “When did I say that?”
Melissa opened her mouth. Closed it. Okay, he hadn’t said they weren’t friends, he’d said they weren’tjustfriends. Which… Okay, judging from how much they were kissing that morning, it was a fair statement.
Cary continued before she could respond. “As far as I’m concerned, we’ll always be friends. Nothing about that has changed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He propped his arm on his knee. “Missy, I know you like arranging shit and putting everything in the right drawer. Your office organization is ruthless.” He leaned over and kissed her mouth, savored it. “But don’t try to organize us. For now, let’s just keep being friends.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Friends?”
He shrugged. “Friends who kiss.”
“Is that a thing now?” It was entirely possible. Melissa hadn’t been on a first date since 2004. She didn’t know how anything worked these days. There were apps for everything. Friends Who Kiss was probably a relationship status on Facebook.
“It’s a thing.” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s a thing for us.”
Chapter Eight
Cary gotoff the phone with the agency his friend Mark had recommended. Background checks on Stuart Hagman hadn’t taken as long as Cary anticipated. None of the information had been buried. Most of it was public record, in fact.
The real mystery was how to approach Melissa. He’d just broken through the hard shell of her resistance to a relationship; he didn’t want to sabotage his progress.
“Friends who kiss.”
Sure, Melissa. Friends who kiss. That’s all.
It wasn’t ideal, but he could work with it. The woman was cautious by nature, and life hadn’t been kind to her. He respected her caution; he just wished it was directed at those who might be actual threats.
Like Stu Hagman. Potentially.
There was no getting around it. The man hadn’t been up-front with Melissa, and she needed to know. Cary wasn’t willing to jeopardize Melissa’s, Abby’s, and Joan’s safety because the woman he loved might get pissed off at him for interfering.
Check that. She would definitely get pissed off at him, but there was nothing else to do.
Then again, maybe he didn’t need to talk to Melissa. The more he thought about it, the surer he was.
He didn’t need to speak to Melissa. He needed to talk to Stu.
He ran a quick hand through his hair, thinking about the best way to approach the man. “Phil?” he called to his foreman.
Phil stuck his head in the office. “Yeah, boss?”
“Going over to the Oxford ranch. I’ve got my phone.”
“No problem.” Phil disappeared again.
It was a quiet time on the farm. They’d finished picking the Valencias and had a few months for pruning and cleaning the groves before they’d be ready to harvest the navel oranges and mandarins. Phil was trying to contact pickers and line up everything for harvest in advance, but many contractors didn’t want to be booked that far out or commit to a price before they knew how high labor demands were going to be.
“Phil!”
Phil appeared again. “Yeah, boss?”
“You touch base with Teresa yet?”
“I left her a message, but she hasn’t called me back.”
