She lifted her glasses to set them atop her head as she knelt and scooped it up at the exact moment he knelt to retrieve it, their heads almost touching.
And their eyes met, too—again—in another one of those stares. Long, short, intense, soft. Em couldn’t decide which adjective to lend it. She cleared her tight throat, holding up the barrette. “You dropped this.”
If Jax recognized her without her glasses, he didn’t show it.
He grinned again. “My daughter’s.”
She melted again.
“She likes pink?”
“She said it’s my color. For dress up, I mean,” he corrected, grumbly and deep.
Em smiled at him. “I agree.”
“Then it’s settled. Pink forever.”
“Pink rules.”
“Just like my daughter.”
More melting. “Tell her Miss Em said hello, won’t you?”
“I will.” He took the barrette from her fingers, their skin touching then not, doing hot, delicious things to places on her body that shouldn’t be hotly delicious from just touching fingers. He dropped it in the pocket of his flannel jacket.
“Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne.” Em swung upward, thankful for Dixie, who grabbed her by the arm to steady her, murmuring a goodbye to Jax and ushering her out of the hardware store.
Outside, the cold air struck her cheeks, cooling their heat, but assaulting her headache with prickly pinches.
Dixie fanned herself, tugging at the collar of her sweater and lifting her chin to let the air hit it.
So it wasn’t just her. Em fanned herself, too. “It was like Hades in there. Someone needs to tell Lucky to turn down the heat in that store. It felt like August.”
“No, someone needs to tell the two of you to turn down the heat. You and Jax Hawthorne, that is.” She smiled, tucking her purse under her arm with that look of confidence on her face.
Em peeked back over her shoulder at the hardware store and made a warning noise at Dixie. “You hush.”
“I surely will not. It’s the truth. Jax Hawthorne is hot. As your person, it’s my duty to tell you, he’s hot for you.”
Jax Hawthorne. A flutter of nerves made Em shiver. Just the notion he might find her equally attractive after all that fantasizing about him wasn’t acceptable. She’d only end up disappointed when the fantasy ended. “He’s hot for my backside on a silver platter because of his little girl callin’ up a sex line. Nothing more.”
Dixie shook her head no with an impish grin. “Tell me that the next time the two of you spontaneously combust with one little glance.”
Em shuffled her feet, giving in to Dixie’s theory just a little. Jax’s face at the mention of his daughter left her heart fluttering like it had hummingbird wings. “Did you hear him talk about his little girl? He wears barrettes in his hair for his daughter when they play dress up.” How endearing and in tune to his daughter’s needs for a man so big and rough. More melting ensued.
Dixie giggled, lilting and girlish. “I saw. I heard. I conclude. Hot man, hot for you, who loves his little girl so much he’ll let her dress him up, grows hotter.”
Em let just one schoolgirl sigh escape her lips—allowed herself just a second or two to believe a man like Jax Hawthorne could find her attractive. But then the cold wind, growing colder by the minute, blasted her in the face and she winced. “It doesn’t matter. He said he left his little girl at home. He surely didn’t leave her alone. That must mean there’s a Mrs. Hawthorne.” Less melting, more gut-gnawing disappointment.
Dixie wiggled her finger in Em’s direction. “Would his daughter be lookin’ for a girlfriend for her father if there was a Mrs. Hawthorne? And if there is, he owes her an apology, ’cuz he’s been cheatin’ on her with his eyes. Now, come with me. I’ll have Sanjeev fix you up some hair of the dog and we’ll take care of that hangover. Then we’ll talk more about the cues a man gives a woman when he’s hot for her and almost certainly unmarried.”
Em began a slow stroll alongside her when doubt set in. “He didn’t even remember me.” Jax Hawthorne, that is.
“That’s because you had your sunglasses on. He couldn’t see those eyes he all but made the business with in the square that night.”
“I took them off, and anyway, shouldn’t he have known me just by my scent...or something?”
“Only if he’s a vampire, or is that werewolf?”
“Let’s not talk about him anymore. I need hangover relief STAT.” Em popped open the doors of her Jeep.
“Him’s name is Jax Hawthorne. I know you’re turning his name over and over in your mind. And we can avoid the subject of him all you like because that’s what you do when you’re flustered. But we’ll have to address this eventually, because I heard a little something while you were giving him hell. So, guess who’s movin’ to Plum Orchard permanently?” Dixie hopped in the car with a grin and shut the door.
Em’s stomach nose-dived while her heart fought for a way out of the captivity of her chest. Permanently? How, in the name of the good man above, would she survive his sexual napalm living in a community as small as Plum Orchard?