as her neck heated. Damn pale skin always gave her away.
“Why are you blushing?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Shut up.” She opened the refrigerator door and stuck her head into the cold air, pretending to look for something. But her brain wasn’t inside the fridge so she pulled out a yogurt instead.
“Really?” she said, staring at the container. “Organic chocolate yogurt?” The label read ‘ Tastes like pudding! ’
“You have a problem with chocolate?”
“Definitely.”
“Since when?” Steve asked.
She jerked her head up. “I mean, no. I don’t have any issues with chocolate.” Especially when it’s being spread all over your body by a hot chef with a big spoon.
Crap. She really was out of it.
Steve leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms across his wide chest. Barely six feet, he wasn’t a tall man. But he had a quiet presence that drew attention. His hair was long, his beard always shaggy. He was like a big teddy bear.
But he’d never quite gotten over the death of his wife, Phoebe’s sister. Judy’s death from cancer had occurred over five years ago, but as far as Phoebe knew, Steve hadn’t so much as looked at another woman. He devoted his life to his hardware shop and his daughter, Jesse.
Steve took a few steps and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is going on with you? Do you need a day off? I’m sure one of the kids can oversee the farm for a day.”
She stared at the carton of yogurt. “No, I’m fine.” She needed the distraction of the farm. Needed to dig in the earth and get her hands dirty. Needed to stay away from Nick Avalon.
Which, of course, would be difficult considering she owned the café where he worked, and he was her employee. But she could never, ever let him touch her again.
Why did that thought leave her feeling a little empty inside?
She smiled at Steve, hoping her expression seemed confident and sincere. “I’m fine. I promise.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You sure?”
“Definitely. I just have a lot on my plate.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. You always take on so much, Pheebs.”
She shrugged. “I can handle it.”
He kept staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Honestly?”
“When are you not honest with me? Spill it.”
He released her shoulder and crossed the kitchen. Turning, he crossed his arms before leaning back against the counter. “I don’t like Nick. I don’t trust him.”
She laughed, but it was nervous and high-pitched. “That makes two of us.”
“I see the way you look at him.”
“Huh?” She tried to sound casual. “I don’t look at him. And what do you mean, look at him?”
“Like you used to look at Bear back when we were in high school.”
“Th-that’s ridiculous! I never look at Nick that way.” She shook her head. “And I never looked at Bear any way. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Phoebe. You’re an open book.”
She tore the lid off the yogurt carton and tossed the piece of foil into the garbage. She was too irritated to wash and recycle the foil.
“Steve. I’m not an open book. And even if I was, so what? I have nothing to hide.”
Steve lifted a brow. “Is that so? Then where were you around three this morning?”
She whipped her head up to stare at her all-too-aware brother-in-law. “W-what?”
“I’m a heavy sleeper, but did you think I wouldn’t notice someone coming and going in the middle of the night, in and out of the house where my daughter and sister-in-law live?”
She should have known. Steve might be laid-back, but he was also very protective of his family. And she knew if anyone ever threatened anyone he loved, he wouldn’t back down. Phoebe knew her kindhearted brother would resort to violence if need be.
Phoebe should have thought about that.
She shrugged and pulled a spoon from a drawer. “You caught me. I went for a walk.”
“A walk.”
“Yup.” She spooned some yogurt into her
“Why are you blushing?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Shut up.” She opened the refrigerator door and stuck her head into the cold air, pretending to look for something. But her brain wasn’t inside the fridge so she pulled out a yogurt instead.
“Really?” she said, staring at the container. “Organic chocolate yogurt?” The label read ‘ Tastes like pudding! ’
“You have a problem with chocolate?”
“Definitely.”
“Since when?” Steve asked.
She jerked her head up. “I mean, no. I don’t have any issues with chocolate.” Especially when it’s being spread all over your body by a hot chef with a big spoon.
Crap. She really was out of it.
Steve leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms across his wide chest. Barely six feet, he wasn’t a tall man. But he had a quiet presence that drew attention. His hair was long, his beard always shaggy. He was like a big teddy bear.
But he’d never quite gotten over the death of his wife, Phoebe’s sister. Judy’s death from cancer had occurred over five years ago, but as far as Phoebe knew, Steve hadn’t so much as looked at another woman. He devoted his life to his hardware shop and his daughter, Jesse.
Steve took a few steps and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is going on with you? Do you need a day off? I’m sure one of the kids can oversee the farm for a day.”
She stared at the carton of yogurt. “No, I’m fine.” She needed the distraction of the farm. Needed to dig in the earth and get her hands dirty. Needed to stay away from Nick Avalon.
Which, of course, would be difficult considering she owned the café where he worked, and he was her employee. But she could never, ever let him touch her again.
Why did that thought leave her feeling a little empty inside?
She smiled at Steve, hoping her expression seemed confident and sincere. “I’m fine. I promise.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You sure?”
“Definitely. I just have a lot on my plate.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. You always take on so much, Pheebs.”
She shrugged. “I can handle it.”
He kept staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Honestly?”
“When are you not honest with me? Spill it.”
He released her shoulder and crossed the kitchen. Turning, he crossed his arms before leaning back against the counter. “I don’t like Nick. I don’t trust him.”
She laughed, but it was nervous and high-pitched. “That makes two of us.”
“I see the way you look at him.”
“Huh?” She tried to sound casual. “I don’t look at him. And what do you mean, look at him?”
“Like you used to look at Bear back when we were in high school.”
“Th-that’s ridiculous! I never look at Nick that way.” She shook her head. “And I never looked at Bear any way. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Phoebe. You’re an open book.”
She tore the lid off the yogurt carton and tossed the piece of foil into the garbage. She was too irritated to wash and recycle the foil.
“Steve. I’m not an open book. And even if I was, so what? I have nothing to hide.”
Steve lifted a brow. “Is that so? Then where were you around three this morning?”
She whipped her head up to stare at her all-too-aware brother-in-law. “W-what?”
“I’m a heavy sleeper, but did you think I wouldn’t notice someone coming and going in the middle of the night, in and out of the house where my daughter and sister-in-law live?”
She should have known. Steve might be laid-back, but he was also very protective of his family. And she knew if anyone ever threatened anyone he loved, he wouldn’t back down. Phoebe knew her kindhearted brother would resort to violence if need be.
Phoebe should have thought about that.
She shrugged and pulled a spoon from a drawer. “You caught me. I went for a walk.”
“A walk.”
“Yup.” She spooned some yogurt into her
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