She reached up to tap lemons, limes and even an orange. "This is incredible."
"Glad you like it. The catnip is a recent addition, over that way." He pointed toward the back right corner.
She came around a tree and found a two-seat wrought-iron table set up with plates, water glasses and in the center...a fondue pot? Whit reached past her to turn up the flame.
"Chocolate sauce?" she asked.
"There's a pear tree that's producing, thanks to the climate control in here. When Evie told me you like chocolate, it all came together." He plucked a pear from a branch. "Why the suspicious look?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you're going to so much trouble to win me over?"
"You're worth it." He set the pear on a stone pottery plate and sliced through it with a paring knife.
"I'm appreciative, but why me when you could expend far less effort for any number of women around here?"
"I don't want them." He swirled the piece of fruit through the chocolate. "Just you." He offered her the dripping slice.
She bit into the end, the sweet fresh pear and gooey chocolate sending her taste buds into a flavor orgasm. She sank into the chair. "Okay, totally amazing," she said, reaching for another slice. "And I'm totally surprised."
"How so?" he sat across from her, their knees bumping under the small table.
"Well," she said, swirling the slice in the chocolate and stroking her toes along his ankle. "I wouldn't have expected you to be so...thrifty."
"I think I was just insulted."
"You're wealthy. Filthy-rich wealthy."
He resisted the impulse to get defensive and forced himself to answer logically. "That doesn't mean I'm wasteful. I've worked damn hard to get to where I am, but there are plenty of people who work just as hard for a lot less, like my mom did. I recognize that there was luck that partnered up with my work ethic."
"Well, your gardener has really outdone himself here." She picked up one of the heavy silver spoons laid out in the fondue display and swirled it through the sauce.
"The hits just keep coming." He laughed. "I don't have a gardener." He popped a slice of fruit in his mouth.
She dropped the spoon in surprise. "You tend all of this yourself?"
Her gaze roamed the neat rows of tomato plants again. The bins of gardening tools and the bags full of potting soil tucked under the plant shelves affirmed that all this work had been done right here. He hadn't just grabbed a bunch of plants from a nursery to decorate his greenhouse. What a lot of work. And patience. She remembered all the times she'd mentally accused him of not caring about the environment and felt a pang of guilt.
"Having money doesn't mean I should stop taking care of things myself." He held up a hand. "The catering service is a survival thing. I may have a green thumb, but my skills in the kitchen suck. It was less expensive to hire out than to continue throwing away food. Makes economic sense."
"But you don't have to pinch pennies." So much about this man was different than what she'd assumed for the past three years. She hadn't expected him to be so generous and thoughtful, and now to find this "green" side to him? Her head was reeling.
"I grew up in a feast-or-famine kind of childhood. When my dad had a job, we lived well, really well." He tugged an orange from a low-hanging branch and began peeling the ripe fruit. "And then he inevitably got fired and we skipped town, chasing a fresh start. At one point we lived in an RV for about eight months. Even at ten years old, I knew if we'd lived more frugally at the place prior, we would have had enough to carry us through the lean times."
Her heart ached for that little boy with so much upheaval in his life. "How is it that's never shown up in your official bio-or at least the grapevine gossip?"
"My life story is no one's business," he said with the brash confidence she'd seen so often in the past.
Now she saw that confidence with new eyes, saw the man who'd taken adversity and let it drive him to success. She couldn't help but respect that.
She scooped the peels into her hand. "A thrifty woman like myself would recycle this into potpourri."
"Hmm, I'm beginning to see merits in your recycling drive." He brought an orange slice to her mouth.
She held it in her teeth, tugging his tie until he leaned across the table to share the bite with her. The fruit burst in her mouth just as their lips met. His eyes held hers as they both ate and watched each other. He kissed a dribble of juice off her chin.
She loosened his tie. "You're a naughty man."
"Lady, I haven't even gotten started yet." He sank back in his seat again, yanking his tie the rest of the way off.
The night outside and the steamed windows inside provided more than enough privacy. It also helped that the greenhouse was tucked away in a cluster of pine trees. They were alone. Truly alone.
Megan's body came alive with anticipation and possibility.
This humid greenhouse was like a tropical retreat in the middle of their everyday small town. What a gift to have such a lush hideaway from the world nestled right here in Whit's backyard.
Standing, he draped his tie over a branch and shrugged out of his coat. She couldn't look away, wondering how far he would go. He flung his coat over the back of his chair and the swoosh of it landing snapped something inside her.
Without taking her eyes off him, she tugged her polo shirt from work over her head. His eyes widened in appreciation and then she lost track of who got undressed faster. She just knew somehow her bra had landed alongside his tie on the orange tree.
She would never again be able to eat an orange without tingling all over.
Whit reached behind a stack of bags full of soil and pulled out a quilt. He'd clearly thought this through and prepared. He shook it on the ground beside the table and took her hand in his. She stepped into his arms and savored the feel of masculine skin against her bare flesh. The rasp of bristle and muscle. A hum of pleasure buzzed through her, melting her as he lowered her onto the blanket.
She trailed her fingers along his shoulders. "This is the most perfect night. You're an ingenious man."
"You inspire me." He pulled an orange slice from the table and held the piece of fruit over her stomach with slow deliberation.
Delicious anticipation shivered through her a second before he squeezed the juice onto her one sweetly torturous drip a time.
"Whit," she gasped just as he dipped his head to sip away each drop.
He glanced up the length of her. "Should I stop?" he asked, kissing his way upward.
Her elbows gave way and she sank back. He snagged the rest of the orange from the iron table and drizzled more juice along one breast, his mouth soon following. She arched up into his caress and gave her hands free rein to enjoy this intriguing, sexy man who'd found his way into her life.
She let herself be swept away in sensations and desire. He was an intuitive lover, lingering when she sighed, in tune to the cues of her least sound or movement. His mouth skimmed lower and lower still until her knees parted and...yes...he sipped and licked, nuzzling at the bundle of nerves drawing tighter. He coaxed her pleasure closer and closer to the edge of completion.
For so long she'd been alone, and while she'd told herself she didn't need more in her life, right now she knew that was a lie. She needed this. This man.
The thought sent a bolt of ecstasy through her. Her fingers gripped his shoulders and dug in to let him know just how much she needed him to stay with her for every wave of pleasure. And he did, as each wave rippled through her.
Her arms fell to her sides as she breathed in ragged gasps, her mind still in a fog. But even in her afterglow haze, need already built inside her again.
Soon, the goal of having Whit reach those heights with her had her reaching for another orange.
Ten
Tucking Megan to his side, Whit trailed his fingers up and down her arm, making the most of their last minutes together tonight. He understood she had to be home soon to relieve the sitter, but he wanted more time with Megan. He'd never dated a single mother before.
More importantly, he'd never been with anyone who captivated him the way she did, dressed or undressed. Although right now he was enjoying the hell out of the undressed Megan. Her silky hair teased along his arm in a fan of red. He'd explored every inch of her soft, pale skin.
He kissed a smudge of chocolate off her nose. Chocolate and oranges would long be his favorite flavors. He'd discovered a lot about her this evening, and intended to make the most of the time they had left before she sent the sitter home at midnight. "Penny for your thoughts."