Free Every Little Kiss by Kendra Leigh Castle Page B

of a diminutive five foot two. Emma stopped short, not wanting to interrupt—in fact, a little afraid to interrupt. Sam might have told her about the ongoing war between Zoeand Jason Evans, Jake’s grumpy park ranger cousin, but she hadn’t properly conveyed the amount of tension the two of them gave off. The air was thick with it.
    Jason scrubbed one hand lazily through his brown hair that was just long enough to show its loose curl. It would have added to his scruffy charm, if he’d been at all charming. “We don’t have a problem. You have a problem,” he said. “I’m just minding my own business. It’s not my fault you’re wound so tight that a little dirt makes your head explode.”
    Zoe’s eyes flashed, the steely gray almost glowing. Emma wondered whether she really wanted to be a witness to whatever came next and took a step backward. Zoe’s hand immediately shot out, palm up, in her direction.
    “No, don’t you go anywhere. I’ll be with you in just a second.” Her eyes never left Jason, but her tone was so commanding that even Emma knew better than to try to leave. Instead, she watched uneasily as Zoe took two steps toward the man glowering down at her. The contrast between the two couldn’t have been starker. Jason was in ancient jeans and a battered jacket, neither of which disguised the fact that the man was built well, and the scruff that covered his jaw did little to soften the handsome angles of his face. He looked like a surly woodsman . . . which he basically was. Zoe, meanwhile, could have stepped out of a magazine. She wore riding boots and leggings, a long shirt covered by a light cardigan, and a loose scarf draped around her neck. Her hair, with caramel highlights woven into the tight curls that fell past her shoulders, was pulled partially back to expose a heart-shaped face that was strikingly lovely even though it was wearing an expression almost as surly as Jason’s. Her chin was up—never a good sign.
    “I’m putting my foot down. You bring a field in here on your boots again, you get to sweep it up.”
    He snorted. “And my incentive to do that would be . . .”
    “The ability to continue purchasing things in this establishment.”
    Jason looked unimpressed. “You’d rather have a clean floor than my money, huh?”
    “It’s not just your money. It’s your charming company I’d be without. And yes, I prefer my clean floor. Believe it or not, I like to have a life beyond vacuuming.”
    They stared at each other for long seconds, and Emma had to give Zoe credit. Jason was intimidating—on purpose, no doubt—but she didn’t even blink. Finally, Jason’s voice rumbled into the tense silence.
    “You don’t even have a decent mat to scrape my boots off on.”
    Zoe’s eyebrow arched, but her voice stayed cool. “All right. I’ll tell you what. Just for you, I will personally put out a better mat. And if you don’t use it, that mat is going where the sun don’t shine.”
    Jason stared a few moments longer, then gave a soft grunt. Emma could swear she saw his lips twitch, though he didn’t smile. “Deal,” he finally said.
    “Shake on it,” said Zoe, her tone indicating this wasn’t optional. She put out her slim, well-manicured hand. Jason’s hand swallowed hers up, gave it a quick shake . . . and then lingered before he pulled away. The tension in the air, Emma thought as she watched them wonderingly, had just shifted to something a lot more interesting. She didn’t have time to gawk long, though, because Jason clomped past her.
    “How’s it going, Henry?”
    He didn’t seem to require an answer, since he kept on walking right out the door. Emma turned her head to watch him go, then returned her attention to Zoe, whosemocha cheeks were stained a deep pink. She stared at the door Jason had just stomped through, then shook her head as if to clear it and blew out a breath.
    “Sorry about that,” she said. “I swear these arguments have gotten to be