inviting you inside,” she insisted, and opened the screen door as if to prove her point. “And it would be rude of you to refuse.” Her voice was light and teasing.
He didn’t understand why she was being so insistent, but rather than argue, he reluctantly brushed past her and entered the kitchen. He caught that familiar floral scent that clung to her skin, and his gut tightened. And then a more savory aroma attacked his senses, nudging the appetite he’d suppressed since the two sandwiches he’d eaten for lunch.
He didn’t advance any farther than a few steps into the modest kitchen, but he could easily see the small oak dining table set for two—for her and her daughter, he assumed. The surface was laden with a virtual feast of fragrant pot roast, peeled and browned potatoes, fresh green beans in a butter sauce, and biscuits and gravy.
Much to his chagrin, his stomach growled at the sight of such a delicious banquet of food. Loudly. Fiercely. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about intercepting the announcement that he was starved.
She laughed, the husky, intimate sound igniting a slow heat in his veins. “I’m glad to hear you’re hungry. I was hoping you hadn’t eaten yet.”
Unable to help the perplexed frown that touched his brows, he watched her move to the counter and pick up a platter of cantaloupe sliced into juicy wedges. “Uh, no, ma’am, I haven’t.”
“Good.” Setting the fruit on the table, she turned to him with a beguiling smile no healthy, red-blooded male could resist. “Will you stay for supper?”
What the heck was going on? Was she offering him his last meal before sending him on his way? He scratched his temple, certain he’d misunderstood the whole scenario. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Please, call me Eden,” she insisted, the waver in her voice at odds with the determination in her eyes. “Right now, I’m not your boss, just a woman who invited you to join her for supper. No ‘Ms. Lowe’ or ‘ma’am’ allowed.” She gestured toward the table with a slender hand. “And I made plenty as you can tell. More than enough for just one.”
More than enough for just one? Which meant she was alone. They were alone. His boots remained grounded where he stood. “Where’s your daughter?”
“Phoebe is at my sister’s for the night.” After smoothing a hand down the skirt of her dress, she went to the refrigerator and opened it. “What would you like to drink? I have iced tea, apple juice, or beer.”
She held the latter choice out to him, and he noticed that her hand trembled ever so slightly. Still trying to put all the pieces of this intriguing puzzle together, he took the chilled bottle from her. “Thank you.”
Twisting off the cap, he took a long drink of the malty liquid, quenching his thirst. He watched as she drew a deep breath, then turned to retrieve a glass from the cupboard and pour herself a glass of iced tea. It gave him an extra moment to analyze Eden’s intentions.
In the month that he’d been working for Eden, she’d always been kind to him and they’d worked well together on the ranch. He had no problems taking orders from his lady-boss, unlike most men. He liked and respected her, and she offered him the same. But, at the end of the day they went their separate ways, him to his small apartment over the garage, and her to the main house.
Though there seemed to be an undercurrent of awareness between them, they’d never fraternized beyond business, and their employee/employer relationship had never crossed the boundaries of propriety.
He felt as though they’d just leapt across that line of demarcation and straight into forbidden territory.
Now that his confusion had worn off, the signs were fairly blatant. With a quick sweep of his gaze, he gathered up the evidence and sorted it out in his mind. She’d prepared a sumptuous meal for two, her daughter was gone for the night, she looked pretty and feminine in her dress, and she smelled soft and alluring. Her anxious behavior fit the pattern, as well.
From his own observations over the past month, he had concluded that Eden Lowe was an independent woman, confident and competent in her business decisions, and headstrong in her ideals when it came to the small cattle operation she managed, despite how her brother-in-law tried to thwart her attempts to keep the facilities running efficiently.
From the information he’d gleaned through casual conversation with Jake, the only other hand Eden employed on a part-time basis, he knew she was a widow of two-and-a-half years. But, according to Jake, she rarely dated. Which made Luke guess that she preferred having a brief fling with a man who wasn’t looking for a commitment or emotional entanglements and wouldn’t demand anything more than a good time.
He was certainly that kind of man, and while the thought of having an affair with this woman appealed to him on a masculine level, she posed too much of a threat to his mental well-being. One taste of her whole-some, generous nature, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to walk away.
And sooner or later, he always walked away.
She carried her drink to the table, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Well, let’s sit down and get started before everything gets cold.”
At the moment, he was feeling warmer than usual, and it had nothing to do with the heat in the kitchen, and everything to do with his own internal temperature that had risen at the image of Eden soft and willing in his bed, her lips lush beneath his, her hair spread over his pillow, tangled in his hands…
Abruptly, he banished those sensual thoughts that would never come to fruition. Not with her.
Despite his resolve not to engage in extracurricular activities with his boss, Luke decided there was no sense in refusing a perfectly good meal. Taking the chair next to Eden, he settled in and accepted the platter of succulent pot roast she passed his way. He wasn’t shy about heaping his plate with the array of delicious-smelling foods, and as he started to eat, he kept waiting for Eden to engage him in conversation.
She didn’t. Nor did she eat any of the small portion of supper she’d served herself. Instead, she fiddled with her fork, and pushed her food around on her plate, and absently chewed on her bottom lip, as if uncertain how to broach the subject that was on her mind. Her obvious preoccupation took away from his own enjoyment of the meal.
He sighed, and tried to find the best way to gently prompt her to open up and divulge the real purpose for inviting him to supper. “Ma’am…” She glanced up at him expectantly, making him realize he’d reverted back to a formality that was better used during working hours. “Eden, you’ll have to pardon me for being so forward, but I’d really like to know what all this is leading to. It is leading to something, isn’t it?”
She cringed, and her face flushed a becoming shade of pink. “Um, yes, I suppose it is,” she admitted, unnecessarily smoothing the napkin in her lap. “Am I that transparent?”
She sounded completely disgusted with herself. He found a rare smile kicking up the corner of his mouth, as well as experiencing a profound sense of relief that she didn’t do this sort of thing often. “Well, you did say you wanted to speak with me about something, and a woman doesn’t usually go through all this trouble for a man she hardly knows unless she’s trying to impress him.”
“Are you impressed?” she asked, hope glimmering in her eyes.
“And flattered,” he said, the admission an honest one. At least she’d know that her efforts hadn’t been
