Free Caught Up in the Touch by Laura Trentham

exactly a lie. It was a family-related emergency to her. Still, a small nugget of guilt planted itself in her stomach. Contrary to her reputation, Jessica didn’t close deals by lying.
    The girl bit her bottom lip and clutched the menus close to her chest, staring into Jessica’s face. Finally, she rattled off an address and directions. They scrolled through her head on repeat as she drove. After a couple of miles, a narrow drive hidden between trees flashed in her periphery.
    Feeling as if the clock was ticking to zero, she whipped the car off the blacktop, onto the pebbled shoulder and back around with a squeal of her tires. Once on the narrow lane, the shadows fuzzed her vision, and she tapped the breaks. The last thing she needed was to plow her borrowed car into a tree and have to beg help from Logan again.
    The trees ended around a sharp bend. Fields covered in wheat-colored grass framed an old-fashioned white farmhouse on two sides while endless trees provided a green backdrop. His blue and white truck was parked in front of a modern-looking detached garage. One of the bay doors was up. The bindings clamped around her heart released a fraction. He hadn’t escaped.
    Relief and anxiety warred. She parked her car in front of the house and checked her face. She missed the armor of her red lipstick and bit at her lips to draw color into them. In the natural light and without her usual layer of makeup, the dark smudges under her eyes looked more prominent.
    Out of the car, she ran one hand over her hair, tucking away wild pieces, and the other down her skirt. If only she could smooth her frazzled nerves as easily. She caught her reflection in the car window. Not as professional as normal, but not a complete freaked-out mess.
    Her too-high heels were meant for city pavement and marbled hallways, not crunching, uneven gravel and clumps of grass. She hadn’t had time to amend the contract, but he seemed a throwback my-word-is-my-bond type of man anyway. She twisted her fingers together, unable to keep them still.
    Her step hitched. Hidden in the shadow of the garage, Logan leaned against the side, his arms crossed over his chest and one booted foot cocked over the other. A coiled, static tension emanated from the seemingly-casual, entirely male stance. He’d probably been watching her since she’d driven up.
    He wore twill camo pants with utility pockets on the legs and an olive-green T-shirt. A different blue Falcon ball cap, this one newer yet still worn shiny in places, kept his expression a mystery. He didn’t offer a word of welcome.
    A shyness that had nothing to do with the now-tainted offer had her stopping and scuffing her pointy toes in the pebbles, her voice sounding ridiculously breathy and feminine. “Hi there.”
    His mouth curved up, and his arms dropped, his thumbs hooking into his pockets. “Hi, yourself. Thought I might see you soon, but I didn’t expect you to wander out here.”
    “I went by Adaline’s first.” She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her feet. Bees swarmed around a mass of honeysuckle growing wild along the side of the garage, filling the silence with nature’s white noise. The air was heady with the scent of mown grass and flowers undercut with a tangy hint of pine. Someone needed to bottle it.
    He pushed off the side of the garage and turned to tinker with the wires of a green and black ATV. Behind him, the hood was raised on a small black car partially covered by a light-brown tarp.
    Jessica let out a slow breath and tightened her voice from Marilyn Monroe to Hillary Clinton-like proportions. “I’m here to offer you the job of running our experimental kitchens. I’ve been authorized to offer a signing bonus in addition to a twenty percent salary increase.”
    He squatted down to adjust something in the ATV’s undercarriage, his thighs bulging and his butt curving. “Your daddy sure is all hot and bothered to hire me. Why?”
    Hot and bothered. She rubbed her