frowned. “Why’d he tell you that?”
Dell shrugged. Better not to say anything at all than lie or admit that C.J. hadn’t told him at all.
She leaned forward, and Dell’s gaze was drawn to the V in her T-shirt. He’d seen women show off a lot more cleavage than that before, but because he’d pretty much never seen Mia’s cleavage, it was a little difficult to be a gentleman and return his gaze to her face.
She was blushing when he did. And scowling. “Why are you here?”
Dell nodded over to Kevin, who already had Cara practically in his lap. “Kev asked me to meet him at Juniors. So I did.”
“I mean, why are you at my table?”
“Kev was talking to Cara, so I came over. Then your boyfriend got a little peeved at that since he and I never have seen eye to eye on just about anything.” Because C. J. Pinkerton was a grade-A asshole. Dell couldn’t believe Mia would see anything in the guy. Surely she had better taste than that. “And since he’s a big old coward, he moseyed on out of here.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Mia looked down at her drink, and Dell was certainly not thrilled to hear it. What did he care? “And don’t say mosey. This is Missouri, not Texas.” She tacked on a “moron” under her breath.
He’d been enjoying her bluster before she tacked on the moron. He’d never much cared for being called that. Silence settled over them, and Dell tried to pretend she wasn’t there, but it was just so weird seeing Mia look...well, hot. It kind of irritated him. God knew why. “So this new look isn’t just for the market?”
She scowled at him, more death lasers shooting from her eyes. “It’s a new leaf. Haven’t you ever wanted to turn over a new leaf?”
Dell sipped his beer. Yeah, he knew that feeling pretty well. Only, didn’t matter how many leaves he turned, the old one still stuck in his family’s mind. “In a town like this, people see who you’ve always been.”
She toyed with the napkin under her glass, eyebrows together. “I don’t care what people see. It matters what I feel.”
Well, that was a nice attitude to have. He wished he could duplicate it. Wished what Dad thought or did didn’t matter, but when the guy telling you you’re irresponsible held the deed to everything you wanted, how could you not care? Even more so when he was blood related. Dell took a deep drink. He didn’t come to Juniors for philosophizing or talking to Mia Pruitt. He came for good company, pretty girls and a few laughs. To take his mind off all this crap.
Dell frowned. When had Mia become a pretty girl? He shook his head. This was all backward. He looked at Kevin, who practically had his tongue down Cara’s throat. Why had Kevin called him at all if he was just going to try to get in Cara Pruitt’s pants?
Dell would make his excuses and leave. He opened his mouth to do just that, but then realized he’d be ditching Mia with the make-out kids, and that didn’t seem very fair. Especially considering how uncomfortable she looked. Besides, they might not get along, but they could always talk about farm stuff. Not exactly the best Saturday night, but he enjoyed it and Mia knew what she was talking about.
“You guys got any cold frames out at your place?”
She gave him a puzzled look, rubbed her tongue back and forth across her bottom lip.
Oh, Jesus, noticing her tongue was worse than noticing her breasts. Breasts could be innocuous if you tried hard enough to make them so. You could pretend they weren’t there. You could pretend you didn’t have any interest in finding out what they looked like. A tongue licking lips...yeah, not so much. It was...there.
Dell cleared his throat, started yammering on about the cold frame he’d built last year. She finally stopped doing the tongue thing and he breathed a sigh of relief as they spent the next fifteen minutes talking about farming.
Damn, she knew her stuff, and she seemed just as into it as he was. Anyone who listened to their conversation would think it nuts two twentysomethings were sitting around talking about fertilizer over a few drinks, but hell, he was actually kind of enjoying himself.
“So how did it start?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
“How did what start?”
“The stupid take-off-your-shirt thing. You obviously care about your farm, so what gives? It makes you seem like you don’t take it seriously.”
“I take it plenty seriously.” Oddly enough, it wasn’t as insulting as when Charlie dinged him for it. When she said seem like it was almost as if she was willing to believe he did take it seriously. “Last year I was talking to some lady about how hot it was and she laughed and told me to take off my shirt. Said I’d probably sell a few more tomatoes that way. So I took her advice.” Dell grinned. “She was right.”
“You know it’s totally demeaning, right?”
“Hey, you seem to be using my tactics.” He pointed at the V of her shirt.
“I am fully clothed!”
Outraged was a good look for her. Her cheeks got a little pink and her full lips made a sexy little O.
For chrissake. Sexy and Mia did not belong in the same sentence, even if she was.
“Keep telling yourself that, darlin’.” Dell touched her hand. Just the lightest brush of fingertip to wrist. She jerked it back so quickly her drink shook and barely avoided toppling over.
He’d blame it on the beer, except he’d had all of one. Maybe he’d just blame it on her antagonistic attitude. He had always liked to bother people. Good-naturedly, of course. Besides, if he flirted a little over the top, maybe he’d get her scurrying off and then he could stop feeling conflicted about being attracted to her. About enjoying the weird push and pull they gave each other.
She popped up out of her seat. “I have to go to the bathroom.” Her entire face was beet red as she turned to walk past his chair.
Dell chuckled. “Same old Mia.” The outside appearance might change, but deep down she was still awkward and geeky. Thank God.
She whirled around. “Wanna dance?”
He choked on his drink, sputtered and coughed as it burned down the wrong pipe. “What?” he croaked.
She smiled sweetly. Way too sweetly. “I said, wanna dance?”
Sweet baby Jesus, what on earth was Mia Pruitt up to?
MIAWASPRETTY sure making Dell sputter over his beer meant she was winning at life. Same old Mia, her ass.
Then he grinned and unfurled from his seat like some kind of seedling in fast-forward time. Now he was this big, tall thing standing in front of her instead of safely seated with the table between them.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Damn it. Talk about backfire. Not only could she not
