He found himself trying to analyze her charm, the things that made her so likable, as a way to immunize himself against it. She smiled easily. She was nice to everyone and always seemed cheerful, even when doing hour after hour of manual labor. Animals naturally took to her. She had a gentle, reassuring way with them. She also had an innocence and utter lack of cynicism about her. The innocence, he supposed, came from living a sheltered life in the country with her family looking out for her.
The way the sun lit up her long blonde hair was also a bit mesmerizing. Did the buildings in the city shade the women’s hair there so that he’d never noticed the effect of sunshine on blonde hair before? He found his gaze drawn to it over and over again.
After the first few days he’d spent working alongside Charity, several of the single men told him, with both resentment and surprise, that Ben flat-out ordered the rest of them to leave her alone. Usually, Milo and Gregor enforced that rule. If a man paid too much attention to the boss’s daughter, he found himself out of work.
Despite that warning, Charity’s parents were still welcoming toward Enzo. Apparently, he hadn’t crossed the line where they were concerned. Milo, however, continued to regard Enzo with suspicion. Callum acted protective of her as well.
The Huntingtons had made Callum an honorary member of their family, and he hung around them as though he took the title seriously. Some hero worship was going on, no doubt. A natural consequence of three of them rescuing him from slavers.
But Callum took to Charity the most. She mothered him as much as Maretta did, always giving him extra food andattention. Charity helped him with chores, teased him, and tried to stump him with math problems—giving him an opportunity to show off his skills to the men on the crew, many of whom razzed him for being a young, muscle-less, lightweight.
At first, Enzo wondered if Callum had a crush on Charity. She was only four years older. But Callum didn’t seem to mind Charity’s interest in Enzo. In fact, after Enzo had been with the group for a little over two weeks, he found himself alone with Callum in a corner of an orchard picking peaches.
With hardly a preamble, Callum said, “Hey, I’ve noticed the way you look at Charity. If you ever hurt her, you won’t just have Milo and Gregor to deal with. I’m the one you should worry about. I’ve got hacking skills. I can mess with your credit, cancel your accounts, or give your contact information to every spam bot in the country.”
“Really?” Enzo asked, unsure whether to be impressed or amused. “They taught that in tech school?”
Callum’s chin notched up. “Tech school isn’t the only place I’ve learned things.”
The kid was serious. Enzo was being threatened by a skinny, seventeen-year-old techno-nerd, and this after he had mistakenly tried to free him from the clutches of the harvesters. Well, that was gratitude for you.
Enzo wanted to say, “I have no intention of hurting Charity,” but couldn’t bring himself to lie. If she was an Empowered, he’d have to take her in. He plucked a peach from the tree branch. “Sorry, I don’t have any credit or accounts for you to mess with. I’m a harvester now. Off the grid, like the rest of them.”
Callum huffed. “You’ve got city written all over you. I can tell you hate picking crops as much as I do. You’ll probably be out of here before I am.”
“How can you tell I hate picking crops?” It was a legitimate question. Whatever Enzo’s tell was, he needed to fix it.
“When the Huntingtons aren’t around, you check your watch a lot.”
Oh. Guilty. That was because Enzo wanted to know if headquarters had sent him any messages. They hadn’t. They’d been serious about leaving him embedded for a while without any communication.
“I like to know what time it is,” Enzo said. “That means I’m punctual, not dissatisfied.”
“Right. If you plan on leaving soon, you need to let her know. She’s not the sort who wants a fling.”
Enzo put another peach in his bag. “You seem to know a lot about Charity.”
“No, I just know a lot about guys like you.”
Enzo laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but it seemed funny that everyone pegged him as some sort of Casanova. As a rule, he stayed away from women. He was only making an exception now because the mission required him to talk to Charity.
And okay, maybe he smiled at her a lot. At mealtimes, he frequently leaned closer to her so they could talk without everybody hearing what they said. But Enzo had never gone off alone with her, he’d never touched her, and he’d never implied he wanted a relationship with her. He wasn’t using her that way. And hopefully, he wouldn’t have to.
Enzo fixed the kid with a gaze. “First off, on behalf of all the guys like me, we’re offended at your insinuations. Second, you’re jumping the gun. Nothing is going on, so you don’t need to destroy my life with your evil techno-genius skills just yet.”
“Just yet…” Callum repeated menacingly.
Enzo hadn’t heard Charity heading down the row behind them until she spoke. “Why is Callum using his evil techno-genius skills to destroy you?” Her words were light. She thought she’d caught the last part of a joke between them.
Or at least she did until Callum whirled to face her. He flushed bright red, wouldn’t hold her gaze, and mumbled, “I’m not doing anything. We were just talking about guy stuff.”
“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know guy stuff was so violent.”
“I’ve got to…” Callum gestured vaguely down the row, “um, I’m assigned to a different row. I’ve got to go.”
Charity watched him stalk off. She wore a long-sleeved shirt, open and tied in the front over a pink tank top. Her blonde hair hung down her back in waves. She smelled of vanilla, and her lips were glossy. The only thing that marred the picture was a small leaf that clung, unnoticed, to a strand of her hair.
“What was that about?” she asked.