Page 158 of Traces Of You

Hmm. She didn’t remember him being this grouchy before. But that was close to twenty years ago too.

Gale’s older brother by six years. She came out to the orchards a lot back then and she always wanted to get a glimpse of her best friend’s older brothers. Clay especially.

The oldest.

The cutest in her eyes.

The leader always telling everyone what to do, but not in a mean way.

Just in an authoritative one.

She pulled a chair out and sat. “I’ve been helping friends with weddings for years.”

“So it’s not a paid job you’ve had?” he asked.

“I have received payment. I’m a teacher full time, but I’ve got summers off and it’s not as if I’ve got a ton of papers to grade that my five-year-olds are handing in during the school year. I’m out of work early and have weekends off.” She pulled the binder closest to her open. “These are some weddings I’ve helped with. Hired and paid for my services.”

“Oh,” he said, flipping through quickly. No way he was even admiring all the details and work she’d put into making sure the tablecloths matched the right shade of roses.

Or the pumpkin favors she’d painstakingly hunted down for the fall theme she’d done last year.

“You’ve got experience. Got it,” he said.

“Can I ask how many weddings you’ve had here?”

“Two,” he said. “And they did everything themselves with my mother. She doesn’t have time between running the cafe on the property and everything she has going on. My sister helps, but she’s busy too. It’s easier for me to hold other events not as detailed here, but I’m getting a lot of calls for weddings.”

“You’ve got more booked?” she asked. She was literally bouncing in the chair.

“Yes.” He looked up at her. “Are you okay? Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“Huh?”

“You’re shaking the table, you’re wiggling so much.”

Talk about mortification. “I’m excited. This is awesome. The place looks great. I’ve got all these ideas in my head already.” She reached for the color swatches in the book closest to him, her fingers grazing his arm. Oh wow, his skin was hot and she hoped her flush didn’t match the heat in her body over that innocent touch. “I’ve got direct contacts for linens to change out.”

He waved his hand. “I don’t need those details. The clients would work out those things. I just want to rent the space, but I guess nothing is as easy as I thought.”

“You can’t see the potential in this place?” she asked.

“I see potential. I don’t see flowers, colors, dancing, and cake. Or any other requirements needed here.”

She stood up and walked around the center of the room. The tables were off to the sides, showing a dance floor. “There are a lot of ways you can set it up. Will the bar provide more than cider?”

“Those are things we’ll work out. Or you will.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

“Yeah. You’re hired.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve got to deal with something. Look around. I’m going to get my mother. She can fill you in on everything.”

Meredith jumped in place once, her feet wobbling as she landed, then she screeched and swatted her hands in front of her face.

He hurried toward her. “What is it? Are you allergic to bees?”

“It’s a fly,” she said. She threw her hands up and was waving them around to get the nasty gross insect away from her face. The buzzing made her gag on top of it.

“You’re afraid of a fly?” he asked. The look on his face was almost comical. Brows together, lips parted. Not really parted as his upper lip was curled in one corner.

“They are gross. Do you know they vomit on things to break it down and slurp it up?”

He slapped his hands together and killed the fly. Damn, that was fast.

“Yep,” he said. “Survival of the fittest. See how easy that was? My mother will be right in. Just have a look around.” He waved his hand. “Do whatever you need to.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Thanks.”

What she needed was a cold shower after ten minutes in Clay’s presence.