“No need. I have some.” He gets up. His back is turned to me as he begins to rummage through the drawers. Eventually, he pushes an emergency kit toward me and sits back down. “Feel free to take whatever you need.”
“Thanks, but I won’t be around for much longer,” I say.
In fact, sticking around is the last thing I’d do, but I keep that to myself.
His frown returns, and for a moment, his eyes remind me of emeralds—cold and hard. But the impression disappears quickly and makes room for the nonchalant, almost contemptuous expression that he seems to sport whenever he looks at me. It’s either contempt or lust, like he can’t decide which way to feel about me.
I bet the words ‘jerk’ and ‘arrogant prick’, which pretty much sum up our first encounter back in NYC, have etched their way into his ego, and now he’s scarred for life at the idea some skirt doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the female population.
He can’t take rejection.
It’s no longer a question. It’s a fact.
“You know,” he starts with a smug grin, “the streets out of town are flooded. There’s no hotel so, as things stand, you’ll have to tolerate me for a little longer. You can keep busy by helping out with the livestock.”
A kind of challenge flickers to life in his gaze, like he thinks I’d never dirty my hands.
The condescending prick!
I add that to my mental dictionary of words that perfectly describe Kellan.
“When’s the mechanic coming?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Did you call him or not?”
“The lines are still down. The storm must have hit a phone pole.”
I take a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “So you haven’t called him, like you said.”
“I never said I did. I only said I would.” His eyes catch mine, the glint in them naughty and devilish. “But no worries, you’re not imposing, if that’s what you’re worried about. The guestrooms have been vacant for so long, I’ll be happy to entertain you. I’m very good at it, as you’ve probably noticed.”
“I’m sure you are.” I cock my head to the side, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do you have enough food for the three of us?”
I can’t quite picture Kellan being the kind who stocks up before a hurricane hits.
“This house was built to last,” he says, amused. “My family owns thousands of acres of land. There’s plenty to live on. You wouldn’t be starving. So, what do you say? Are you going to help me with the farm?”
I don’t know why, but he kind of looks smug. And then I remember.
He doesn’t think I have what it takes for physical labor.
“Sounds like a date.” I take a huge gulp of my coffee, emptying half the mug, and jump up with a triumphant smile on my face.
He downs his coffee and stands, a smile creeping up his face. It’s only then that I realize what I’ve just said.
Holy shit!
What the fuck’s wrong with me?
“Obviously not a date but—” I wave my hand in the air as more heat rushes to my face.
His smile widens, revealing two rows of perfect, white teeth. Teeth I can’t help but imagine nibbling on my body and tugging gently at my sensitive skin.
The thought instantly makes me horny.
Oh, God.
I’m a lost cause.
“Not a ‘date’ date,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Obviously. Let’s call it earning your bacon while you’re lying in my hay.”
He can’t possibly expect payment. But, in spite of his smile, his expression is so honest, I’m not sure he’s not serious.
I clamp my mouth shut to keep back a snarky remark because, let’s face it, I’m flat-out broke and might just have to work to earn my keep. Judging by the way his gaze seems to brush the front of my top, I’m not sure what that work might entail.
“If you think I’d ever fuck you in exchange for staying here, you’re wrong. I’d rather sleep outside, in the dirt.”
He leans into me, his breath brushing my lips. I can smell the faint scent of coffee and bacon, the heady mix of aftershave and him. An instant throb forms between my legs.
“It was a joke, Ava. I’d never expect you to pay for anything. Be my guest for as long as you want. The fucking part is voluntary, though I’m pretty sure there’ll be lots of that.”
He pulls back and I stare at him, open-mouthed and struck speechless.
Nope, I still don’t get him.
CHAPTER TEN
I’ve never considered myself ugly, but I’m no blond model material either. My figure is not bad, with a bit of extra padding here and there. Guys always seem to like my generous chest size, but that’s not impressive either.