Page 8 of Butter You Up
“Good girl,” he says, and I know he’s talking to the dog, but damn. That’s hot. “Okay.”
“Okay” must be her version of “go wild.” Trixie gets up again, butt wagging everywhere, and gives me a good and proper sniff when I offer the back of my hand. She does not jump, though she’s clearly thought about it and then thought the better of it.
“That’s enough. Goodbye, Molly.”
And I’m dismissed. Ethel wasn’t kidding about Alex not being a talker.
I need the money, though, and I’ll be working by myself in the farm stand. No animal encounters necessary, and minimal contact with my boss, who says he has an office in the barn up the hill.
It’ll be totally worth it to get Vaniel back up and running again.
CHAPTER4
ALEX
Molly leavesthe shop and briefly speaks to Kit before climbing on her bike and peddling off. I pretend to be busy with paperwork instead of trying to listen to their conversation, but the hum of the surrounding refrigerators is too loud to catch anything. Kit saunters in and grins at me.
“Does she have the job?”
I hold up her resume. “I have to call her references, but probably.”
He fist pumps. “Yes. Put me back in the barn, buddy.”
I give him an eyebrow raise and step out from the counter to let him back in. He settles back in at the computer and minimizes the POS software, revealing a game of Solitaire. Instead of playing, though, he leans forward, his elbows on the counter.
“You should ask her out.”
I choke on air.
“What?”
“She’s cute as hell, and she’s into you.”
Well, I can’t argue the first one. Molly has long, curly red hair that bounces when she moves, which she does frequently. Even just standing and talking to me, she was moving around, rocking on her feet. Molly had to look up at me, which almost everyone does since I’m so tall, but she’s pretty short—maybe a foot shorter than me. Her features were delicate, with high cheekbones and freckles. Very pretty.
“Do you have an HR department? Cause you’re gonna need one for this.”
“I’m the HR department.”
“Conflict of interest,” he claims. “I’m your new HR department.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you gonna call her references?”
“Making phone calls? Ew, no.”
I give him a glare.
“No, wait! Make me her boss. We might have to form a subsidiary corporation and a shell company to move things around so that you’re not her boss’s boss.” Kit moves his hands around like a street performer taking bets on which cup the ball is under.
“You don’t have any idea what those things are, do you?”
“Nope, but I’m just trying to help my best friend ask his soulmate out.”
Sure, when pigs fly. Kit is the sole reason I’ve had relationships with women. He would drag me to trivia night or happy hour. I’m not very good at talking to women, but he is. Once he breaks the ice, it’s easier for me to have a conversation.
It’s been a crutch over the years, I know. And I have gotten better about striking out on my own. I’ve even had a couple of flings with tourists passing through Climax, the bigger town about half an hour away and closer to the highway.
When you visit a town like Climax, making jokes about the name really gets the ball rolling.
