Page 72 of Falling into Place
“Fourteen,” he corrected, his ears turning pink. “Got two more this morning.”
That was all it took. That sweet look of pride that he’d successfully grown a vegetable all on his own.
“I like you,” she blurted.
His body stilled and his brows came together. “What?”
Oh God. That happened.
Might as well keep going ... but, just ... what was she supposed to do with her hands? “I like you, Brooks. As in, I have feelings for you. Lots of them. Technically they’re not all good, I guess, because sometimes you’re frustrating.” His stunned expression shifted a little at that, forming a crooked grin. “Like when you can’t see how good you look in a straight-leg jean or when you’re moody because you haven’t had enough caffeine. But mostly they’re wonderful, warm, sparkly feelings that make me happy and make me want to be closer to you. You’re so smart and kind of nerdy, and sweet and thoughtful. And funny, even when you’re not trying to be. So ... I, um. Yeah. I like you and that’s all.”
His smile was sweet and languid and adorable. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, even though her stomach had tied itself back into knots.
“I like you, too,” he said, grin widening. He gripped his chin with his thumb on one side and fingers on the other, and slid them down as he nodded slowly. “I also have feelings.Lotsof them.”
Then he started toward her.
“No!” she cried.
He froze and his hands shot up like she’d yelled this was a stickup.
“Sorry. I just, I mean, we can’t act on it right now, and I’m not sure what I’ll do if you come close.”
“Carly,” he said roughly, hands falling to his sides.
“I know,” she groaned, and again apologized. “I wasn’t sure if I’d tell you or not, and maybe I shouldn’t have because you’re my client and I can’t date you as long as you’re that, and now this will just be miserable for both of us. But I couldn’t help it. You just ... You made me.”
“What? I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did. You knew I was coming over and you wore those.”
He glanced down and frowned. “Sweatpants?”
“Exactly. Then you smiled at me and teased me, and you have all your produce so carefully lined up—did you arrange it by size? Honestly, what was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe not show up here in those shoes and with those dangly earrings and gorgeous eyes and tell me you like me, then make me stand over here like I’m in time-out?”
She sniffed. “You can sit over there. If you want.”
“I don’t want,” he said thickly.
“Oh.”
They stared at each other.
“I also don’t want to date you.”
“Oh,” she said again, then, “Wait, what?”
“You said you can’t date a client, and that’s fine. I shouldn’t date you right now, either.”
“Yes. Good. I agree.”
“No dating.”
“Right.”
He studied her for a long moment, and she felt his perusal like a gentle caress. Then, he said, “How do we feel about kissing?”
