LITMIR.BIZ

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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?

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      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 dance, but she’d never danced with a guy before. Now she was going to dance with Dell in a bar blaring poppy country music?

      What bizarro world had she tumbled into? He was supposed to say no and disappear, not tower over her with that smug smile on his face. Not put his hand on the small of her back and guide her to the dance floor on the opposite side of the bar.

      Dell’s hand was on the small of her back. Dell’s very big, very warm hand. Dell Wainwright. If her mind repeated the information enough times maybe she’d process it enough to react appropriately, or at least stop the squealing in her mind.

      What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to put her hands? Where was he going to put his hands?

      Dell stopped her on the dance floor, and before any more questions could circle in her brain, paralyzing all rational thought or function, Dell grabbed her hand and twirled her around.

      On a breathless laugh, she ended up too close to the faded red cotton of his T-shirt, but he put his hand on her hip and guided her enough to the medium-tempo beat that she surprisingly didn’t feel like an idiot.

      He laughed with her, eyes meeting hers briefly. A weird humming second of—what? Attraction? Awareness? Mia frowned at their feet. This was a bad idea.

      He cleared his throat. “So what prompted this new leaf?”

      Mia shrugged, trying to ignore the reaction of her body to his fingertips on the curve of her hip. As if every one of her muscles was contracting, trying to stop time and soak up this moment. Sure, it was weird it was Dell, but a cute guy was dancing with her in a bar. She wanted to soak up that experience and remember it. The chances of it repeating were slim. “Well, lots of things, I guess.”

      “Name one.”

      She glared up at him. “No.” Her...things were none of his business, and she didn’t want him thinking he could boss her around. He was not her friend. He was more like her enemy. Why would she pour out her weaknesses to him?

      He chuckled. “Prickly suits you, Mia.”

      She didn’t know how to respond. Dell was about the only one who brought out the prickly. Usually being mean or snarky made her felt guilty, and every once in a while that cropped up, but mainly he deserved it. The only other person who goaded her was Cara. Mia peeked over her shoulder to see Cara still cozied up to Kevin.

      “Don’t know why he bothered to invite me if he was going to spend the whole night chatting up your sister.”

      “You’re telling me. Coming here wasn’t exactly my idea.”

      Dell laughed. “And here I had you pegged as a Juniors regular.” When she glared at him, he only laughed harder.

      “I imagine you’ve spent plenty of time here.”

      “Surely you can imagine me doing more interesting things than that.” His grin was so pretty and wide, if she wasn’t so embarrassed by what she could imagine, she might have smiled back.

      Dell passed a glance over Kevin and Cara again. “Eh, probably for the best he’s occupied. Shouldn’t stay out too late anyway.”

      “Got a curfew?” Mia fake smiled up at him, mentally patting herself on the back for the flippant tone.

      This time when he laughed it was completely void of humor. “No, just a business I have to go above and beyond proving I can run if I ever want it.”

      The information was so strange, Mia forgot all about the awkwardness of having one hand in Dell’s and her other hand

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