Harlequin Heartwarming September 2020 Box Set by Amy Vastine

Author:Amy Vastine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

ALEX FOLLOWED LAUREN into the house, taking the opportunity to check her out without having to be stealthy about it. She was tiny—dainty, even—with slender wrists and ankles. She wore grayish sweatpants—the clingy kind, not the baggy kind—and a purple T-shirt that somehow managed to hit all her curves in spite of being oversized. Her hair was a sort of bright brown, not quite red and not quite gold, like a chestnut horse. It hung halfway down her back, thick and full, like a mane.

In spite of being so small, she was strong. And capable. She’d worked beside him without complaint in the cold and handled the tools like a pro. They’d worked well together, anticipating each other’s movements.

They’d danced well together, too, at the wedding reception two years earlier, but that didn’t seem to have made much of an impression on her.

“Power’s still out,” she said. “But I have a propane camp stove out in Vincent.”

“Vincent?”

“That’s my van, Vincent Van-Go. He’s a Ford Transit.”

Right. The van she traveled around in and lived out of. Tony had told him about that. The thought of this tiny woman zipping around North America and camping in remote spots by herself blew his mind. What was she thinking?

Probably not thinking at all. Just looking for thrills. Rootless and shallow. The sort of millennial that gives millennials a bad name.

She picked up a turquoise sweatshirt from the back of a chair. It was a pullover hoodie; she had to stretch up to get her arms in the sleeves and then wriggle her way inside of it. This should have been an awkward process, but she made it look graceful. Everything she did was graceful. Fixing fence. Taking pictures at Tony and Dalia’s wedding, crouching and twisting and kneeling with her fancy camera, moving around silently without getting in anyone’s way. Dancing with him at the reception, her hands light and cool and impossibly small.

“Cars are supposed to be female,” Alex said. “Like ships.”

She reached both hands inside the hoodie’s neck and flipped out her hair. It tumbled over the hood in a glorious shower of color.

“Well, Vincent is a boy.”

He swallowed hard.

“We don’t need the camp stove,” he said. “This range is propane, too, and I can light the burner manually.”

He opened the fridge. “Are you a vegan?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you kinda look like a vegan, and I can’t make my Mexican hot chocolate with almond milk or soy juice or whatever it is that vegans drink. And, anyway, we don’t have any of that stuff. Just whole milk and cream from a grass-fed Jersey cow.”

“I don’t know what you think vegans look like, but I happen to love full-fat dairy products.”

He set the milk and cream on the counter. “Good. Now just how authentic an experience would you like? Should I go full-on Aztec or what?”

“I’ll take mine without the human sacrifice, thanks.”

He chuckled. “Nah, Aztec just means it isn’t sweetened.”

“Seriously, that’s an option? Never mind authentic, then. I want it sweet.

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