Page 45

Kitty’s heart soared. The boots were adorable. Totally impractical but adorable. Was this how Josh saw her? Pink and dotty? The thought made her smile. Most people in her life would see her as grey and practical.

“I love them,” she said.

“You hear that, Wendy? They’re a hit.” He tickled his dog's ears as she looked up at him, adoration in her eyes.

A frown knitted Kitty’s brows together.

“I can’t wear them, though. I don’t want to ruin them. They’re perfect.”

“Sure you can. Boots are there to be trashed. Nothing’s perfect. Wendy won’t mind. She’d rather not watch you struggle each day in Phil's old ones. I would offer her services to clean them, but again, paws, not thumbs.”

The amusement on his face had Kitty’s frown unknotting.Nothing needed to be perfect. The notion was so Josh. She sat on the old bench again and undid her work boots, slipping them off to reveal socks covered in Mr Men and Little Misses. The corners of Josh’s mouth twitched when he saw them.

Kitty stepped into the new boots and stood to model them. His eyes skimmed down her legs, then drew up to meet hers. A flash of approval lay deep within them, and Kitty’s heart skipped.

“Thank you,” she said.

He shook his head. “Don’t thank me, thank the crazy mutt. She makes up at least one-third of the Kitty Cameron fan club.”

Kitty’s breath pulled up for a millisecond. If Wendy was one of three, who the hell were the other members?

“Come on, Little Miss Long Legs. We’ll make a country girl of you yet.”

She followed Josh to the truck as he ordered Wendy to ride in the back. The dog sat sulkily, staring at Kitty, who’d buckled up in the front passenger seat. No sooner had they set off than Wendy clambered over the middle and sat straight in Kitty’s lap, totally blocking her view.

“I think someone’s jealous,” Josh said as he pulled over to shift Wendy back into the middle seat between them.“There, you can keep us apart now. Happy?”

The day's first appointment in Josh’s diary was a herd health check at a dairy farm.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to come along?”Kitty asked.

“They won’t mind at all. I’m sure they’ll welcome the distraction. You’re far more

appealing than watching me with my arm up a cow’s bum!”

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” asked Kitty, a giggle escaping her lips.

They drove steadily along the winding road, its edges fringed with cowslips and thick hedges heavy with ripe blackberries. Kitty pleaded with Josh to stop so she could pick some. He checked his watch and gave her five minutes. She hopped out of the truck and, with her bright new wellies, picked her way through the brambles to reach the fruit.

Without a container, Kitty pulled the bottom of her top out to form a makeshift basket, and after a few minutes of battling with thorns, Josh called her back. He'd found her a bag to carry the fruit and dutifully held it out while she tipped her harvest in. The blackberries were bruised and squashed into the fabric of her shirt, leaving one massive purple stain on its front and Kitty’s hands.

“I thought you hated mess?” asked Josh.

Kitty held out her palms, examining them. “I do, don’t I?” She shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “Maybe I’m becoming immune?”

“I’m very pleased for you, but I’m more concerned about how I’ll convince my clients that you’re not an axe murderer!”

Getting back into the truck, Josh’s eyes crinkled at the corners, just the way she liked, and the muscles in his arms jumped as he ground the heavy gear stick. Kitty was grateful for Wendy sitting in between them. If she wasn’t there, she’d have to sit on her hands. She couldn't trust herself not to reach out to trace a path along each and every one.

Back on the road again, Josh told Kitty about his assistant, Kate.

“She’s like my second mother. She runs the show. My phone rings all day, and often I can’t pick it up. Kate fields the calls and sends me where I needto go. I mostly hired her for her baking skills, though.”

“Seriously?”

“Hell yeah. I haven’t had to make myself lunch in years. I could probably judge that bake-off show by now. She’ll be in phone contact all day, so get used to hearing the ping.”

Kitty glanced down at Josh’s washboard flat stomach. There was no evidence of a muffin top in sight. Perhaps she should enquire about local classes for goat wrangling or cow grappling. It seemed to work for him.