a small town, sugar.”
She would not be irritated by the cocky way he drawled sugar. She would also not be...other things at the way his voice was all gravelly and sure of himself. Not hot. Not even cute.
“And yet, how many times have I run into you here before? I do these errands every Tuesday morning.”
“Well, if you see me again, then you’ll know I’m following you. For today, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence.”
Unfortunate. Yeah. She certainly got no secret thrill out of seeing him outside the market. Please. She hoped to never see him outside the market. She didn’t even want to see him at the market.
“But while we’re here, together, on this beautiful day, why don’t you tell me what you’ve got up your sleeve so you don’t embarrass yourself at the market Saturday?”
She glanced at him again, giving him a condescending look she’d been practicing in the mirror. “First of all, we’re not together.”
“I’m standing here. You’re standing there right in touching distance. We’re talking. Together enough from where I’m at.”
“Why don’t you stand out of touching distance?” Because words like touching made her even more uncomfortable than she already was. How could she pretend to be calm and collected when she had to think about...touching?
She had the petty desire to give him a little push, but that would be silly and childish...and probably put her in contact with muscles she’d prefer to only fantasize about.
Except, no fantasizing.
“I don’t know why you have reason to be so antagonistic with me, Mia. Fair competition and all that. Jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.”
She rolled her eyes. “The day I worry about being attractive to you is the day I go brain-dead.” Jitters multiplied in her stomach. This was getting...weird. “Besides, if it’s fair competition, you don’t need to worry about what I’ve got up my sleeve.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you. You’ve built quite a new rep for yourself.”
She was not a violent person, but something about him made her visualize doing a lot of it. Unfortunately that also meant visualizing touching him. In a way that wasn’t all...violent. “The day Dell Wainwright is looking out for my well-being is the day I start taking my shirt off at the market.”
His eyes drifted to her chest, an almost considering look on his face. She crossed her arms over herself, the heat of embarrassment mixing with a different kind of heat.
“Go away, Dell. I am trying to do actual work here. I’m guessing you wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
There was a beat of silence, a moment of triumph that she’d shut him up, and then a twist of...something not so nice in her stomach.
“Naw, I just sit around my farm twiddling my thumbs.” He stepped away from her, a weird energy in the tense shoulders and the hard line of his mouth. “See you ’round, Pruitt.”
Mia frowned after him. She had no idea why she felt...kind of guilty and like a jerk. She hadn’t said anything too terrible to him, certainly not any worse than him calling her Queen of the Geeks.
So the weird twist in her stomach was out of place, and Dell was out of place for making her feel it. She was about to stomp into the store, but Dad’s voice sounded from behind her.
“That boy bothering you?”
Mia snorted, couldn’t help it. She turned to Dad, who’d obviously come out of the feed exit. It was nice Dad felt protective, but she did not need to be protected. Or comforted. Not anymore. “First of all, Dell Wainwright isn’t a boy any more than I’m a girl.”
Dad harrumphed.
“Second, I’m not... That stuff doesn’t bother me anymore.” Possibly because it wasn’t the same. Going toe-to-toe with Dell was less like being made fun of, being called names. It was more like battle. One she was more than equipped to fight.
It was weirdly invigorating. It made her feel capable and strong. If she could take on Mr. Prom King, she could take on anyone. If she could ignore the random bouts of misplaced guilt. Which she would.
She was going to take him on and win, and the more he poked at her, the more he’d find she didn’t roll over and hide anymore.
“Let’s go home.”
It was tempting. Tempting to put off what she’d come for so she wouldn’t have to run into Dell in the aisles, but not tempting enough to agree to.
“You can wait in the car if you want. But I have a few things that need picking up.” Because she was not a wimp. Not anymore.
* * *
DELLHEFTEDTHE tarps he needed onto the dolly, trying to ignore the fact he could see Mia at the end of the aisle doing the same.
He’d been kind of a dick, and it wasn’t his proudest moment, but she’d sure landed the knockout punch.
I’m guessing you wouldn’t know what that’s like.
As if farmwork could ever be anything but hard. As if he didn’t work his ass off every day trying to compete with her.
Her very fine ass.
Yeah, he didn’t want to be noticing things like that. So she wasn’t a social mess anymore? It didn’t mean he had any right or reason to be attracted to her. He didn’t have time to be distracted by stuff like that. Not with Dad breathing down his neck for profits. Proof that his ideas could stand the test of time.
Dell looked down at the tarps. It was another expense he didn’t need, but if he started cutting corners it would affect his crops. With both the weekly farmers’ market and five families getting community-supported agriculture portions from him, he didn’t have the option of risking product.
Life sure had been easier when he didn’t care about this stuff. No one and nothing depending on him. Then again, if he hadn’t been quite so laid-back, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this position now.
If he’d been like Mia and gone to a tough school and worked hard and come back with all As, would it have mattered?
There was no answer for that. Nothing he could do to change what had happened. All he could do was focus on the present and the future and doing everything in his power to make Dad sell the farm to him.
Mia Pruitt was a competitor and distraction he would not let get in his way. He started rolling his dolly toward the cash register, realizing belatedly she was doing the same and they were now in line. Mia right in front of him.
So much for not being a distraction. Her baggy sweatshirt was pushed up to her elbows, revealing elegant forearms and delicate wrists. At least they looked that way, until she hefted a sack of sand as if it weighed nothing.
Her gaze landed on him and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said under her breath,
