* *
AND THAT WAS one decent interview.
Taylor leaned back in the kitchen chair and stretched after the video call had ended. She’d done well, considering the fact that she’d still been off-kilter—thank you, Cole—when the call had connected. But she’d managed to get her hair and makeup done before the call, and had slipped into a dark suit jacket, so all in all she’d been prepared.
And if she got the job…maybe she and Cole could have a last hurrah. Pursue this matter between them.
Taylor pushed her chair back. Not wise. Not when he was living in her grandfather’s place.
Half an hour later she heard the barn door roll open and looked out the window. Cole was feeding the calves without her. Because of the kiss, or because he knew she had an interview?
The latter. It had to be. He probably wanted to move on as much as she did. No sense making things more uncomfortable than they needed to be while they were stuck together. The best thing to do would be to forget the kiss had ever happened.
When she met up with Cole at the barn a few minutes later, he seemed to be on board. There was nothing self-conscious in the way he greeted her or handed her the grain bucket. Together they walked to the calf pen, and if Taylor was more aware of him than usual, tuned into his every move, that was biology in action. Fortunately, she had a brain able to overcome the pitfalls of primal biological responses. She was in control of this situation, not her lady parts.
“How was the interview?”
“I think it went well. It’s a company in Ellensburg, Washington. Close to home.”
“Ah.”
The calves mobbed them, and Cole helped create a space for her to feed first one calf, then the next, without getting knocked down by the hungry trio. When the last bottle was empty and all the calves were picking at hay in the feeder, Cole opened the gate and stood back for her to pass. She was barely through when he said, “So. That kiss.”
Her startled gaze met his. “What about it?” She stepped back so that he could come through and lock the gate. “It happened. We don’t need to dissect it.”
An odd expression crossed his face. “Wait…the queen of analysis doesn’t want to analyze?”
“Maybe that is the result of my analysis.”
“You don’t want input from your research assistant?” There was no humor in his voice.
“What could you possibly say that I don’t already know, or haven’t already concluded?”
He leaned his shoulder on the fence post next to him, studying her with those green eyes until she felt like shifting her weight, folding her arms. Moving. She didn’t. But it wasn’t easy. Why wasn’t he instantly agreeing with her to move on?
Suddenly the situation, which she’d hoped to blow off, was once again edging into threatening territory, and she wasn’t going to have that.
“I analyzed,” she said finally. “And came to the conclusion that, yes, there’s chemistry. But we would be foolish to act on it. Not when we’re living as we are. You were right, we don’t want to complicate our lives.”
He considered her words and then gave a slow nod. “Fair enough.”
“It makes sense. Besides—” she nudged a rock with her toe before looking back up at him “—I’m getting to the point where I don’t want to do you bodily harm on general principles, and why mess with that?”
“I see your point.”
She pushed her hands into her pockets. “Surely you see things the same way?” She hadn’t intended for the pleading note in her voice to be there.
“I…don’t want to screw up my lease,” he admitted.
“Right.” She felt a small measure of relief. “There is that potential.”
He cocked his head. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you again.”
Taylor’s breath went shallow. The images that flooded her brain were unsettling. “I…don’t think that would be wise.”
“Because you’re feeling it, too?”
She gave him an impatient look. “Would I have kissed you back if I hadn’t ‘felt it’?”
He hooked his thumbs in his pockets, drawing her eyes down to…there. She casually swept her gaze on over the gravel to her running shoes.
Dear heavens.
“So the next step is no step.”
Taylor let out a relieved breath. “Yes. Exactly.”
* * *
COLE WAS GOOD with the next step being no step. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of choice. The lady had spoken, and it would make their lives less complicated if they continued as they were.
But what were they?
More than acquaintances, but not quite friends. Friends felt comfortable together. When he was with Taylor, he was on edge. But he liked her.
His mouth tightened as he headed for his tractor, and he reflected that things would be a lot easier if he didn’t, but somehow the prickly princess had turned out to be a real person. One who called him on his bullshit. One who honestly did work her butt off when asked.
He’d read her wrong…or maybe she’d lightened up. Whatever the reason, this new Taylor was a double threat.
Double threats were never good.
A streak of white headed across the yard just as he got on the tractor, and with a low groan he climbed back off again. Chucky disappeared through the windbreak separating Karl’s place from the Clovendales’ pastures.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Mrs. Clovendale, who explained that her sister was no longer able to get around like she used to and Chucky was now a permanent resident of Clovendale Farms. But she’d certainly ask her husband to fix the hole that Chucky had escaped through.
Cole agreed that was a great idea and then dropped the phone back into his pocket. If his biggest concerns were a renegade poodle and Taylor, then his life was good.
Miranda was a potential concern, too, but she’d been quiet and as far as he knew hadn’t messed with Jancey lately. And he decided he should be grateful for that.
Why was Miranda so quiet?
He started the tractor and headed out to the fields, wishing he could just let things go. He didn’t trust Miranda. Taylor had probably worked with nutso people like his step-aunt. There had to be tons of egos and power maneuvers in the business world. When things smoothed out between them, when he didn’t feel the urge to touch her every time she got close to him, maybe he’d ask for insights…without going into a whole lot of detail about his ranch.
It was not only demoralizing, it was embarrassing.
Which was probably how Taylor had felt after losing her job when she’d made it the primary focus of her life.
But he wasn’t going to think about Taylor. Or Miranda. He was going to focus on weed control and seeing about getting water to the corners of his fields. At least that was a part of his life he could control.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING after the calf feeding, Cole told Taylor that he had work to do in the fields, then asked if she would mind clearing out the old tack room in the barn.
“I want to store seed in there, but it’s loaded with old tools and stuff. Most of it needs to be hauled away.”
“Sure.” She’d discovered that the work she hadn’t wanted to do made the days go by and kept her from obsessing over her job search. She missed dealing with numbers, plotting strategies and keeping her finger on the pulse of business operations,