All I Am. Nicole Helm

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All I Am - Nicole Helm Mills & Boon Superromance

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then stood by the door feeling like an idiot with two Coke cans freezing her hands.

      Each sandwich went into a baggie. Grabbing a coat off a hook by the door, he shrugged it on, then took the cans from her. He slid one into each pocket, along with a baggie of dog treats. “You wanna carry the sandwiches?”

      “Sure. Um, if you bring forks, we can eat pie, too.”

      He nodded, pulling open a drawer and taking out two forks. She grabbed her bag, dropped the sandwiches in, then followed him outside.

      She’d expected some first day awkwardness—and gotten it with the doctor thing—but walking around and eating with your boss, who happened to be kind of hot and intriguing, felt really weird.

      He walked around the cabin to what appeared to be a small barn in the back. Probably a quarter of the size of the ones on her dad’s property, but the color and shape was all barn.

      “I make sure all the animals have water and food. Make the petting rounds.”

      Cara looked behind them, where Sweetness, Phantom and the other two dogs pranced. “You have more animals?”

      “A few cats. Two more dogs. A sheep.”

      “A sheep?”

      He shrugged, tramping over to the barn and pulling the door open. “He needed a good home. I had a barn.”

      “No partridge in a pear tree?”

      “I like animals.”

      “Because they aren’t annoying like people?”

      “I’ve always liked animals. I never had any growing up.”

      “Never?”

      “I tried a few times, but we always lived in no-animals-allowed places, so I always got in trouble. One time I got us kicked out, so I gave that up. I was going to...”

      “You were going to what?”

      He was frowning now, and not just his normal scowly resting face. This was full-on pissed off.

      “Doesn’t matter.” He stomped into the barn. A few yips rang out, and a cat made figure eights between his legs.

      “Why do you keep these guys in here?”

      “The cats chose it. The dogs aren’t trained enough yet. They run off if I give them free rein outside, but this gives them some space and we work on boundaries in the evening. Shrimp doesn’t get around too good these days, so it’s safest for him to stay in a pen, although he occasionally escapes.”

      “Shrimp?”

      “Sheep with a limp. Sheep plus limp. Shrimp.”

      “Wes!”

      “What? It’s descriptive.” His mouth quirked up. Not quite a smile, but because it was Wes she would count it as a smile.

      “Come on.” He went about filling dishes with fresh water and adding food to different bowls. It was obviously his routine, and it seemed to relax him. Except for the few times he’d look up, seem to remember she was there and get all tense and frowny again.

      Cara had to wonder why he’d invited her at all if she made him so uncomfortable. But she didn’t question it out loud, because she didn’t want to eat lunch alone. Strange company was better than no company.

      She followed him around, and eventually they left the barn. He brought one of the barn dogs with them, so the number of animals trailing after them was now five. He didn’t look at her once as they hiked through the woods, eventually reaching a creek.

      It was beautiful and reminded her so much of home, she wanted to splash in the water like she had when she’d been eight. Only it was barely fifty degrees, and walking through the sliver of leaf-filled water between two muddy banks would be ill advised in her flimsy canvas shoes.

      “Buttercups! Oh, my favorite.” Shiny yellow petals sprouted next to a big, flat rock Wes stopped at. Spring had always been her favorite season. Spring had meant freedom as a kid. Everyone busy with the farm and the weather finally okay enough she could go out without Mom blowing a worry gasket.

      Fresh air and freedom. It made her believe in new beginnings, far more than any January resolution did. So, maybe she needed to seek a little rebirth and new growth of her own.

      Grow up. Leave Cara the screwup behind.

      Not possible.

      She ignored the jerk of a voice in her head and plucked the delicate flowers out of the ground, arranging a few in her hair. A little visual reminder that flowers could grow from nothing but dirt and water and a little sunlight. “How do I look?”

      He’d situated himself on the rock, and Cara had a little inward sigh over his pretty eyes before he looked down. Blushing. Definitely blushing. He might have acted as if he didn’t care for her occasional flirting, but obviously he didn’t think she was repulsive.

      Maybe he was shy about stuff like that. For some reason, the thought of gruff and grumpy Wes being shy made her feel all warm and squishy.

      Which was not okay. At all. He was her boss, and aside from this and a few emergency shifts at the salon, she had no income. Because she hadn’t sucked up the courage to approach Sam again about the pies.

      Well, buttercups as her witness, she would.

      She settled herself next to Wes. And, yeah, maybe she didn’t have to sit so close, but she was feeling bold now. She handed him his sandwich; he handed her a Coke.

      “This place is perfect.”

      He cracked open his soda. “Yeah, I like it.”

      “You do this every day?” With Phantom, Sweetness and the three other dogs sitting or lying around the base of the rock, it obviously wasn’t something new.

      He made one of his grunt-yes noises as he bit into his sandwich.

      “So, why organic dog treats?”

      He lifted those broad, yummy shoulders—bad, Cara—but she pointed at him before he finished the motion. “No shrugging. You have to answer.”

      “I said no chitchat.”

      “It’s not chitchat. It’s an interrogation.”

      He glared. Glowered. All frustrated irritation. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining him making that kind of look naked. If she did something sassy. And she would need to be punished.

      Okay, if she were the blushing type, she’d be blushing.

      “I was going to be a vet,” he grumbled, attacking his sandwich as if it had done something wrong. “But, you know, you need a steady hand.”

      She had to try hard to not let the pity show on her face. It didn’t take a psychologist to figure Wes was not the kind of guy who would deal well with pity. Oh, but her heart did hurt for him. He obviously loved animals,

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