Leaves skittered across the parking lot and the tree branches swayed slightly in the wind. Watching the squirrels jump from tree to tree calmed her, and she chastised herself for letting a complete stranger get under her skin. She’d been to enough therapy sessions to know how to block the negativity when someone was throwing it at her. Casey’s ex-husband had been a master at throwing crap at her then acting like it was her fault becausesheoverreacted.Gaslighting.That’s what her therapist had called it. But it was different with her ex because they had a relationship, and he was the first and only man she’d ever loved. So why was she letting this guy, albeit a good-looking, sexy one, get under her skin?
“Are you gonna ring me up or not?”
The sound of his voice pissed her off.Take two deep breaths. He’s a jerk and jerks piss women off. It’s simple.
“I don’t have all day. I have a job I’m doing.”
Casey turned around and her gaze swept over a large bag of Eden mulch. “So you took my suggestion.” She couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her lips.
His eyes narrowed. “That’s all you have on the shelves. Where the fuck is Owen anyway?”
“He had a family emergency out of town.”
“I didn’t know he had family outside of Pinewood Springs.”
“He does.” The beep of the price gun filled the silence between them. “Cash or credit?”
“When’s Owen coming back?” he said, inserting a credit card into the machine.
“I don’t know. You want a receipt?”
“Yeah. You gonna be workin’ here until he comes back?”
“That’s the plan.” She handed him the receipt.
“How do you know Owen?”
Irritation pricked at the temples of her forehead. “A friend of a friend. Do you want anything else?”
“Nah. I can see that I get under your skin, so I’m messin’ with you.” He laughed.
“Childishanda jerk—that’s a winning combination. Don’t you think you better get to your job and let me do mine?” Satisfaction spread over Casey when she saw a muscle tick in his jaw.
Without saying a word, he pushed the flat cart piled high with bags of mulch out of the nursery. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he stacked the bags onto the back of a blue long bed pickup. After wheeling the flat cart into the store, he walked to the truck, swung into the driver’s seat, and took off without a backward glance.
Casey shook her head. “Why is it that macho men can dish it out but not take it from a woman? They’re all alike,” she muttered under her breath as she glanced at the copy of the receipt.Chase Kendrick.
“Did that guy buy anything?”
Casey had forgotten all about Scott. “Forty bags of mulch.”
“I thought he wanted twenty.”
She shrugged. “It’s not my job to question the customers about their purchases.”
“He thought he was so fucking cool. Those guys all do. Do you think he’s cool?”
A small sigh escaped from her lips. “What are we in high school? I didn’t think anything about him. He’s a customer, just like the two who just walked in. Why don’t you see if they need any help?”
“You don’t have to bite my head off. I just wondered if you thought he was cool.”
“Again, I didn’t pay any attention to him.”I’m such a liar.
“Whatever.” Scott ambled toward the patrons.
Chase Kendrick. It doesn’t really fit him.What did that mean when people said a name didn’t fit someone? Hell if she knew, but she didn’t think the guy looked like a Chase Kendrick. And most women would’ve found him attractiveandsexy. So what did that mean?Nothing.There was no way she’d ever get mixed up with someone like him. Her ex-hubby had cured her fascination with the bad boy rebel type. They were great in novels and movies, but in real life?No damn way.
Casey shoved the receipt into the strongbox and snapped the lid shut.