Page 25 of Where It All Began
She’d heard the truck in the driveway while popping the roast in the oven and had watched from the window as John walked up the path behind the barn to see if she was still working.
“You, uh, get the fields done?” he asked casually.
Phoebe hid her smile. “Yep.”
“I didn’t see the sprayer out,” he ventured.
He was cute when he was nervous. “I parked it back in the barn. Had to do a little rigging with the hoses.”
John was off the porch like a horse out of the gate, and Phoebe tagged along behind him as he headed for the barn. She could read him like the Sunday comics, knowing he was mulling over the thousand ways he assumed she’d ruined his life.
She gave him a minute alone in the barn before ambling in and plopping down on a three-legged stool inside the door.
He turned to look at her and then went back to studying her work on the sprayer.
The second time he turned around to stare at her, she took pity on him. Phoebe slid off the stool and crossed to him. She pointed out the hose configuration on each end of the tank. “The hoses kink between the boom and the tank on the turns. It’s a design flaw. So, with a little creative engineering and sturdy tape, I repositioned them.”
He looked baffled and just a little impressed, which had Phoebe’s toes curling with pleasure inside her boots.
“Not bad,” he said, finally.
The minimal praise felt satisfying.Better than any A on any paper, Phoebe thought, her smile smug. She strutted back to the doorway and leaned against the frame.
“Oh, and I started a grocery list for the party Sunday, dinner’s in the oven—pot roast—and Murdock ran through what looks like an entire field of burrs, but I picked them off him and gave him a bath.” Now she was just bragging, but damn it felt good to prove herself useful. “Everything go okay with the grain?”
John nodded and reluctantly gave up studying her engineering marvel. He joined her, leaning against the opposite side of the opening, thumbs looped in his pockets. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She fluttered her lashes at him. “There, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”
He nudged her foot with his. It was a playful gesture, but it still fanned sparks inside her.
“Listen,” he began.
“Uh-oh.”
“Let me say my piece,” he insisted.
Phoebe gestured grandly. “You have the podium, sir.”
“I think the reason we’ve had trouble talking is I don’t know you very well,” John started. He pointed a finger in her face when she opened her mouth. “Shut it. I’m well-aware of whose fault that is. But I think if I get to know you, I’ll feel more comfortable talking about what I’m doing here.”
She waited until she was sure he was done. “Sounds fair. It’s like dating.”
He blanched. She grinned.
“It’s definitelynotlike dating,” he insisted.
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “It’s exactly like dating. We need to get to know each other in order to establish a relationship. That’s basically what we need to do here.”
“Minus the actual dating?” His tone was hopeful, and Phoebe scented the challenge.
“That seems like an early assumption,” she shrugged. “As you so astutely pointed out, we don’t know each other. I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions about dating or not dating until we’ve gotten to know each other better.”
“Are you saying you would consider dating me?” he asked. He looked nervous, now, his tan face losing its color, and the adorable twitch appeared at the corner of his eye.
“Well, I don’t know.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “We already know that this…arrangementis only temporary. And based on your old-fashioned tendencies, I would guess that you aren’t open to something like that.”
“You think I’m old-fashioned?” John demanded.
