She paused, then dutifully said, “Coop, have you considered replacing it?”
Finally hearing her say his name gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. At thirty-four, smiles, glasses and first names shouldn’t have affected him at all, but then, something about Phoenix had struck a nerve from the moment he’d seen the first article on her assault. “Every time it quits on me.”
Damn, he wanted to kiss her.
And she couldn’t even look at him.
It was an odd sensation not to recognize himself and his reactions. After a year of his life lost to a mournful rage, it had taken him a long time to regain his control, to tamp down those useless emotions. In the four years since then he’d stayed busy to keep himself in check.
Now, those volatile feelings seemed misdirected, still there, simmering deep inside, but with an entirely different motivation.
“You have?” Phoenix sat forward, an elbow on the table, enthusiasm in her eyes. “I know it’s a big expense, but a zero-turn mower would be ideal.”
Inspiration struck, and he said, “At the end of the month, we could check them out together if you want.” Before she could deny him, he added, “I’d need you to help me choose the best one for the park.”
She retreated back in her seat. “I’m sure any would do.”
True. Plus, he wasn’t so inept that he couldn’t choose a damned mower. That wasn’t the point, though. “Why have a landscaping expert around if not to get an expert opinion? We wouldn’t have to go far. There’s a dealer in Woodbine with everything from massive farm equipment to small push mowers for tiny yards.” He saw the indecision in her pale blue eyes, made larger by the lenses of her glasses. “You’re the one who will be responsible for it, so it makes sense for you to help choose it.”
“But—”
“You’d be on the clock, of course.”
Fascinated by the visible process, he watched as she debated with herself, stiffened her spine, nudged her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose and nodded.
Amused by her, and impressed with her fortitude, he asked, “Yes?”
“Okay, yes.” Her attention dipped to his body, then shot back to his face. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. “We can do that.”
Her agreement released the tension in his muscles, when he didn’t even want to admit to being tense.
He definitely shouldn’t have been tense.
“Great.” Did that mean she trusted him, at least a little? He knew he was losing his grip on his carefully tempered emotions; he’d deliberately kept himself from feeling too much, because feeling hurt had turned him into a person he didn’t recognize.
For the first time in years, it didn’t alarm him. These feelings weren’t chaotic and hard-edged. If anything, they were...soft. And enjoyable.
A twinge of disquiet went through him, but he ignored it. “I’ll go over the calendar, talk to the dealer and let you know well in advance what day we’ll go.”
“Sounds good.” She finished off her coffee and stood.
Coop stood, too—and this time her attention went all over him, even the fly of his jeans. He fought back all natural inclinations in an effort to keep the moment casual. Phoenix wasn’t a woman to rush, and he doubted the look had been an invitation. Probably more like curiosity, and he’d take what he could get. “Let me know if Daron can’t get the old mower going, okay?”
“We could get by with the push mowers for a few weeks.”
He didn’t want her to have to get by. “Let me know, Phoenix.”
As if the use of her name no longer fazed her, she nodded. “Will do.” She surprised him by carrying her cup to the sink. Once there, she noticed the photo near his closed laptop. For a long moment, she stared at it, her head slightly tilted.
He didn’t explain. He couldn’t explain.
Something softened in her expression. Without a word, she turned to go.
Relieved, Coop moved toward the door with her. Talking about his wife was always difficult and now, with those strange emotions gripping him, he didn’t dare go down that road.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll check in with you later to make sure Daron has things going. If you need anything else, let me know.”
When she stepped outside, the bright sunshine put blue highlights into her smooth ebony hair. With her eyes squinted against the glare, she stared toward the lake. “That’s your private dock?”
“Yes. The buoys mark the no-swim area for guests, making it safer for me to take my boat out to the main body of water, and for me to swim away from the resort guests.”
“I’ve seen other boats way out there.”
“People ski or go tubing. But you haven’t even swum yet, have you? You know the water’s warmed up a lot. You should take a dip.” He wouldn’t mind seeing her skinned down to a bikini.
She gave him a look bordering on horror. “Not me.”
Propping a shoulder against the door frame, he asked, “Why not you?” Was she worried that a bikini might invite male attention? He sorted through the idea, and realized that, after the assault, she wasn’t only uncomfortable around men, she actually feared a man’s attention.
A man’s touch.
The thought brought a frown. A woman like Phoenix Rose should be enjoying every aspect of life, not shying away from the physical—
“I can’t swim.” She scowled with the admission.
Not buying that for a second, he asked, “So you never swam in your grandparents’ pond?”
“The fish were bigger than me. I mean, when I was a kid.” She held her hands apart about two feet. “The carp and catfish were huge.”
He liked the image of her as a little girl awed by the size of a fish. “You know they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“I know that now.” She took a few steps away and hesitated. With exasperation, she admitted, “I can swim.”
“Yeah?” Damn, she was cute—and obviously honest. An irresistible combo. “So why the fib?”
Would she be honest with him now? Was she afraid of intimacy?
She rolled one shoulder, then swatted the air. “Because admitting that I’m not comfortable in a crowd is lame. But then I realized that saying I couldn’t swim sounded just as lame, so...”
The admission twisted his heart, and turned his tone gruff. “I’m glad you can swim, and I understand about crowds.” Was it only crowds? He wished he had the words for more specific questions.
She actually laughed. Just for a second, then she quickly cut it off.
Coop studied her face, the way she flattened her lips to fight the grin. Really nice lips. “What’s funny?”
“If you don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”
Teasing—that had to be a good sign. If she feared him, would she do that? He didn’t think so.
He pushed away from the door. “Come on, now. Don’t leave me guessing.”
She grinned. “Well...you realize that you hired me to work around crowds, right?”
“True.” As if lit from the inside, her eyes were beautifully bright when she laughed. “But working around them is not the same as mingling.”
“No, it’s not.” She scrunched her nose and again looked at the lake. “I could maybe swim without mingling.”
He could tell she wanted to. “It wouldn’t be easy. Between the scuba divers, the paddle boaters, the flirting adults and the splashing kids, you’d pretty much be in the thick of it.”
“Yeah, probably.” She gave a wistful sigh. “It’s not crowded early on the weekdays.”
A slow burn started through his blood, and to his surprise, he easily accepted that it was both physical...and emotional. “Would you like to swim early one morning?”
“Maybe.” As if she only just then realized the direction of the conversation, she said, “Oh, I don’t mean with you.”
Cocking a brow, he asked in mock affront, “Why not with me?”
Her dark lashes fluttered in nervousness. “You’re part of the crowds.”
Damn, he did not want to be lumped in with the masses. He wanted to be different. He wanted to be more.
Softly, he said, “Not if it’s just me.”
“But I...” Her words trailed off.
“You what?” he prompted.