Free Wild in the Field by Jennifer Greene Page B

scare?”
    Silence. Then she touched his cheek with her fingertip. “Yeah, I do, Pete. I don’t know why you keepkissing me. I don’t know why you keep trying to help me. But you have to know that I’m a walking catastrophe. I can’t fit in your life, in your sons’ life. I’m not ready for any kind of relationship. I’m not ready for much of anything.”
    â€œYeah. So?”
    A whisper of a grin, the first natural one he’d seen on her lips. “Don’t get sassy with me, you dolt. I’m serious. If you come on to me, you could get what you’re asking for. Trouble. So you think it through real good before you kiss me again, you hear?”
    Slowly, she pulled completely free from his arms, then turned around and simply walked out. The screen door clapped behind her.
    The damn woman had left him in her kitchen. And he stood there for a good five minutes, feeling as dazed as if someone had smacked him upside the head—or upside the heart. God knew what he was going to do about her. Right then, for sure, he didn’t have a clue.

Five
    N othing had gone well for the entire week, and as far as Camille was concerned, it was all Pete’s fault. He’d rattled her. It was one thing for her high school crush—the heroic icon of her whole darn childhood—to turn into a living, breathing man who seemed to be attracted to her. But entirely another thing for her to respond to him.
    Obviously there was nothing serious between them—and couldn’t be. It was just a matter of shaking off this constant rattled feeling. So she’d withdrawn. Specifically, she tried holing up in the cottage the way she had those first weeks, but that no longer seemed to work. The darn dog took all kinds of time and care. And the lavender simply had to be tended. And then, Pete’s boys kept showing up to help her.
    Camille was all for denial and cowardice and hidingout, but dagnabbit, a woman couldn’t even be a neurotic hermit in peace around here.
    She hiked the driveway between the main house and her sister’s Herb Haven business. Clouds had started building before noon, and now they were chasing across the sky, tumbling over each other, bringing a storm in their shadows. Since she’d been chased out of the lavender field because of the inclement weather, she figured she might as well use the time to suck it up and seek out her sister.
    She hoped to find Violet alone, but when she poked her head in the Herb Haven, she spotted at least three bodies wandering around—that is, three human bodies, not counting the half-dozen cats.
    She shied from the sound of strangers’ voices. She’d have shied from the cats, too, except that two of the long-haired Persians tangled around her legs before she could escape back outside. Trying to walk to the greenhouses was an exercise in getting tripped and sabotaged. Finally, she hunched down to pet them, snarling behind her, “Dammit, Killer. You’re a dog. Isn’t it a mandate that you’re supposed to chase cats? What good are you?”
    She didn’t have to look back to know the shepherd was as close behind her as bad breath. Killer was still snarling at every opportunity—including at her—but this last week, he’d taken up following her everywhere. She couldn’t go to the bathroom, couldn’t go to dinner, couldn’t close the door on her bedroom without him. Just like now, he sat patiently, tongue lolling, less than two feet away from the disgusting sight of her petting the two long-haired nuisance cats.
    The damn dog was just like having a second conscience. Couldn’t escape him for love or money.
    Finally the cats seemed sated. She stood up, slugged her hands in her jeans pockets, and wandered around the first greenhouse. Her parents had built this one. It wasn’t as high-tech as Vi’s new greenhouse, but it still had touches of their mother in