Page 13 of Freedom's Kiss
Chapter 6
No way Olivia had never been to a farmer’s market before. Watching her inspect produce and interact with vendors was like observing an impassioned lawyer during the final arguments—she had the jury eating out of the palm of her hand.
Adam hung back, content to watch her and to ignore the irritating rub at the back of his mind that said he was witnessing true passion at work. She stepped into the role like Cinderella’s glass slipper—a perfect fit—while he’d been bumbling around as if he were Dopey from the seven dwarfs.
Thank you, Amber, for those very manly references.Being the oldest, he’d often babysat his youngest sibling. Apparently, the endless hours of Disney-princess movies were sticking around.
Olivia turned and flashed a triumphant smile as she held up two loaves of crusty bread like a trophy. The vendor bagged the baguette-like New Orleans french bread and exchanged them for the money in Olivia’s hand. She pushed the loops of the plastic handle up the crook of her elbow and took her change.
“Hungry?” He hadn’t had anything other than black coffee, and his stomach had long since protested that decision. Later in the day, there’d be a vendor selling the best Jamaican food he’d ever tasted, but jerked chicken with coconut rice and peas might not be the best choice for breakfast.
She hiked her bags higher up her arm, and he reached over and took them from her. With a smile of thanks, she asked, “Have you had Laura’s crepes?”
Point proven. She’d been here before. If he hadn’t hung back to watch her all morning, he probably would have caught her calling all the venders by name. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Oh, we have to rectify that right away. Come on.” Weaving in and out of the crowd, she was a lady on a mission. A mother pushing a stroller stepped in front of him, and he stopped dead in his tracks so he wouldn’t plow them over. Moving around them, he kept Olivia’s shiny black hair in sight. His fingers itched to reach out and grip her hand so they wouldn’t lose each other in the press of bodies, but he’d already overstepped the bounds of social propriety in the number of times he’d touched her. If he didn’t want to get slapped with a sexual harassment lawsuit, especially now that she worked for him, he needed to do better to implement a hands-off policy.
He lengthened his stride to catch up to her, then slid to a halt when she stopped at a blue pop-up canopy. Arms outstretched, a woman with purple streaks in her flour-white hair, and older than his grandmother, came around a table covered in a red-and-white-checkered cloth.
“Olivia! I haven’t seen you in ages, child.” She engulfed Olivia in a hug, squeezing like the two were old friends, then stepped back, hands on her hips. “And just where have you been hiding? Your apartment and my shop have been too quiet since you left.”
Olivia ducked her head and turned slightly, her body language one Adam recognized from his years questioning clients. Usually the ones who were guilty of what they’d been charged. A motion of concealment. But what was she hiding? Definitely not anything sinister, or his radar would have picked it up. Whatever it was, she was embarrassed and worried that he’d find out.
The woman, who he assumed was Laura, squeezed Olivia’s arm and said something in a low, soothing voice. Olivia nodded and shrugged, then turned toward him.
“Laura, I’d like you to meet my new boss, Adam Carrington.”
Laura’s brows hiked as she stuck her palm out. “New boss?”
Adam cupped the older woman’s hand in both of his and offered her his most charming smile. The one that had always afforded him extra cookies from the ladies at church when he was a kid. “More like new friend.” He glanced at Olivia and winked.
“I see.” Laura looked between the two, her smile widening. “Oh yes, I do see.” She shuffled back around the table and stationed herself behind an electric griddle designed especially for crepe making. “So what can I get for you two?”
“I’ll have a peanut butter, Nutella, and banana crepe please.”
Laura turned to Adam. “And you?”
He perused the painted menu hanging behind her before making a decision. “I’ll try the spinach and Brie.”
While Laura buried herself pouring the batter and using the spreader to make a perfectly thin crepe, Olivia leaned into his side and whispered, “You do realize she now thinks we’re together.”
He leaned down and matched her volume. “We are together.”
She looked up and grinned, jabbing him with her elbow. “I meantogethertogether, and you know it.”
He let his lips settle and gave her what he hoped was a serious look. “Should we play along? It might prove terribly upsetting for her to learn we aren’t madly in love, and I do so hate to upset little old ladies.”Harassment lawsuit, Adam.Reining in his personality had always been difficult, but the challenges Olivia kept issuing, first with his truck and now with a match of wits, were proving impossible to back down from. She knew he was only teasing and didn’t mean anything by it, didn’t she? If she didn’t… If she thought…
Her dark eyes gleamed, as if baiting him. “And just how would you go about doing that?”
At the suggestive tilt to her head, heat climbed up his neck. He’d only been messing around. She was too, right? A game to play in which no one got hurt…as long as both players knew the rules beforehand. If he continued, he could find himself in some boiling-hot water, especially if the game took a jackknife turn across his no-man’s-land line in the sand. The one that went from friendly banter to…Well, he never wanted to be one ofthoseguys.
He stared down at her, trying to read the motive in her gaze—wondering if he should keep playing the game or fold—but then her stoic expression cracked, and she busted out laughing.
“Oh man, you should’ve seen your face.” Her shoulders shook as she grinned up at him. “Sorry. You’re just so easy to mess with.”
He let that statement go, all too thankful that Laura interrupted by handing them their orders.
Olivia picked up a folded triangle and took a bite, chocolate hazelnut spread leaking out the edges. Using her fingers, she wiped at the corner of her mouth. “What would you have done? If I’d been able to keep a straight face a few minutes longer, I mean.”
