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Grant swallowed down the anxious tightening ratcheting up his throat. Why had he let Mrs. G talk him into this?
Because he was an easy mark for the crafty older woman, the closest to a grandma he’d known.
Jena was way prettier and more interesting than he’d heard. Not that he’d heard much. So he hadn’t been prepared for the way meeting her had whacked into him, like getting thrown from his brother’s horse when he was younger. He’d recover, but scrambling out of the way and catching his breath first seemed like a good idea.
He shook his head and began to explore the house. It was in bad shape, but he’d known that. Run-down, dusty, peeling, he didn’t care. He could make it his own. The house and small property could be his, somewhere he could do all the projects and experiments he wanted to, without having to get his older brothers’ approval, or follow the traditional Manning Ranch way.
Still, he was only twenty-two, the youngest Manning, maybe too soon to be taking on such a big endeavor. Most of his friends were just out of college: some still living at home; others rooming up in apartments and tackling their first full-time jobs; others, like him, living on the family ranch where they worked with their parents or siblings or grandparents.
He hadn’t known his grandparents. But his grandpa Bonham, so he was told, had been a bit of a dreamer, an experimenter, like he wanted to be. Grandpa Bonham had even built an unusual octagonal house back east, where he’d also had a small farm and orchards. Grant had tended to some of the old plants that had been brought out as gifts for his mom, who’d died when he was young. Plants that Grandpa Bonham had grafted and nurtured and protected, and now Grant wanted to continue those legacies.
He’d been wandering as he’d thought about his family, not really seeing much. Now he was back in the front room. Jena carefully came down the steps, dust in her shoulder-length hair.
Without thinking, he picked a cobweb from the strands. She frowned at him.
“Sorry, that was...inappropriate.” Basic kindergarten stuff: Keep your hands to yourself.
She nodded. “Want a report now?” Her stomach made a gurgling noise.
“How about over lunch,” he asked with a grin.
“I’ll meet you at Gallagher’s Café, then.”
He waited for her to leave, then took another glance around the old place. Working with someone like Jena would sure be a lot more interesting than slogging at the ranch with his brothers. But it would also be uncomfortable, especially if she kept frowning at him.
He shook his head and strode out to his truck, an old one he and a friend had converted to biodiesel. Jena was already gone.
Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled into a spot outside the café. He cleaned his hands with a wipe and combed his hair with a quick swipe. Mrs. G would give him a gentle tease if he were a mess; his wanting to look good had nothing to do with Jena Raines. He didn’t like being teased was all.
He hopped down and smoothed his shirt then opened the door. Jena wasn’t there that he could see.
“Well, look who’s here!” Mrs. G opened her arms to him from her position by the host’s stand. “You coming from the old place?”
He nodded and hugged the older woman. Her scent, rosewater with spicy notes, reminded him of his grandparents’ old journals and farming records, kept tucked in fabric cases his mom had sewn.
“Did Jena meet you?”
He nodded again. “She’s supposed to be here so we can talk over the project.”
“And maybe just enjoy lunch together?” The silver-haired, petite Mrs. G grinned with a mischief that seemed more appropriate if she were seven and not seventy-seven. Then again, it was her smiles that had gotten them through many a hard time, and her smiles and troublemaking that kept them all on their toes. Was she troublemaking now with her suggestion?
Nah, she was just encouraging him to be friendly, like she did.
“And here she is,” Mrs. G said in a light tone. “Jena, glad to see you. I’ve got a table waiting for you and Grant.” She held both their hands, pulling them closer together. “Look at you two, cute as a picture.”
Grant willed his face to cool and hoped Jena wasn’t looking his way. “Uh, we better sit. Jena has other business today.”
“Isn’t he considerate,” Mrs. G asked as she led them to a table in the corner. A kind of quiet corner. Ah, she just knew Grant preferred the quiet, not that she wanted to give him and Jena privacy.
He waited until Jena sat, trying not to notice how her hair had been brushed until it had a light sheen, and the way her long, slim legs showed in her skinny jeans. He slid into the chair across from her. Glancing out the window, he pulled his thoughts from Jena to business.
She gave him a slight smile as she met his gaze. Mrs. G had waved and gone back to her post.
“Seems like she thinks you’re pretty great,” Jena said.
“She’s like a grandma to me, so that’s not surprising.”
She made a noise, almost like a “huh,” and glanced at her menu.
“Different experience of grandparents?” he asked.
“They’re fine. I just wouldn’t say all grandparents think their grandchildren are great.”
Why would that be? Jena seemed pretty great to him. But with families, people could be different, or families could be unsupportive. “You’re right. All the more reason I’m grateful to have Mrs. G in my life. What about you? Do you have anyone like that?” He couldn’t imagine she didn’t. She was smart, hard-working, direct, pretty...and he was clearly getting a crush. You’re working with this woman, Manning. Chill.
He took a deep breath. The café smelled amazing—like stew and roasted vegetables—and his stomach rumbled. The talk of other patrons and the distant clinking from the kitchen made a low hum around them. Out the window, birds landed on the feeders positioned among the street garden. Fall leaves scuttered along the concrete and dotted the planters.
“Ready to order?” the waitperson asked.
Grant looked to Jena and nodded, signaling he preferred her to order first. She did, and then he made up his mind and placed his order.
He sipped some water before he tried to get himself back to business. “So, what do you think of the project?”
“I’d like to get Luke or Uncle Tim out, if you’re good with that. But it seems like something we could take on. As far as I can tell—and this isn’t my area—the structure is solid. It needs updated electrical and plumbing, and cosmetic work. That’s not mentioning the yard. We can get a bid to you early next week.”
Since it was Friday, that was plenty quick. He didn’t want to deal with the other main contractors in the area, so Levi and Company was already his choice, though he could bring in people from somewhere else if he wanted. But he preferred to work with them, as a rec from Mrs. G meant a lot.
“That sounds good. You’ll be doing the electrical?” Mrs. G had given him a brief outline of the company, and Jena. He wanted to know more.
“If you hire us, yes. I’ve been certified for a year, though between us all, we have over twenty years’ experience.”
He smiled briefly. She seemed a bit nervous, the way she fidgeted with her napkin. “I don’t doubt your qualifications.” He was about to veer into personal questions, but that wasn’t a good idea. “Do you know anything about solar and other green building?”
“I took some courses and workshops. What do you have in mind?”
“A lot.” And he did. Though at the moment, it wasn’t just the jumble of project ideas, it was also thoughts of Jena, like who she was as a person, and what it would feel like to kiss her. Inappropriate. He ran his hand over his hair.
“We’ve got lunch. I’d like to hear your ideas.” Her smile, though merely a polite quirk of her lips, seemed to beam some electric pulse into his chest, making his heart speed up.
Was he blushing? He drank some more water.
“You have a great smile.” Ah, geez, he’d said that out loud. If his brothers were here, they’d rib him something fierce for his ineptness.
Her smile faded. “Thanks.”
“I put my foot in it, huh?”
She shook her head. “I like your smile too.” Now she was blushing, and that made her even prettier, bringing extra color to her light skin. “What are your plans for the property?”
Good, she’d pivoted the conversation. He wasn’t ready to get more personal, and he needed time to get over the embarrassment of his random compliment.
“I don’t know about plans, yet. That makes it sounds so definite.”
“You’re buying a property and having it renovated without plans? Sounds like a potential disaster.”
She was direct, for sure. “I like to experiment. Sometimes things don’t work, then I can scrap it and start again. A plan just...makes that harder. You get more attached to the results, the expectations.”
Jena frowned. “Without a plan, you can’t get anywhere. You flounder and fail.”
“Failure is necessary to succeed.”
The waitperson brought their food. The heat Grant had felt toward Jena had iced, chilling him like the cubes in his glass of water. Just as well, all things considered.
He dug into his vegetable soup. The thick broth warmed him again. “How’s yours?” he asked Jena.
“Good. I come here a lot. I think I’ve tried everything on the menu now. This beef stew is the best. Want to try it?” She edged her bowl forward.
“No thanks. I’m vegetarian.”
She set her spoon down mid-bite. “A cattle rancher is a vegetarian?”
Since she didn’t sound derisive, but just curious, he’d share more than he might with someone else. “I don’t consider myself a cattle rancher. We do more than that. But even still, it’s just a personal choice. We take good care of our animals, though, just so you know.”
“I didn’t doubt it.” She took her bite and glanced at the window.
They ate in silence for a bit. He slathered some butter on the still-warm multigrain roll. Jena ate her sourdough one.
“Great bread, huh?” he asked. “It’s hard to get something with whole grains this light.”
“Yeah. Mrs. G hired a new chef who specializes in breads. You bake?”
“I do.” He shrugged.
“You’re really running against type.” She raised her brows at him as she took another bite of stew.
“I could say the same of you.”
“Do I have a type?” She peered at him with a bit of a smirk.
“Montana woman, right?”
“Born and raised. But aren’t Montanans known for independence?”
“Good point. Then how am I running against type?”
“Fair.” He liked that she challenged him, called him out on what she disagreed with. He sure melted fast.
She quirked her lips again, this time more in satisfaction than politeness, and more of the warmth returned. Or maybe that was just the soup.
“I admit,” she said, “my grandparents weren’t too excited about my career choice, or some of my other decisions, so I guess for some, I’m not what’s expected of a woman.”
He had some opinions about that, but this wasn’t about him. He ate another spoonful of soup. “How do you feel about that?”
“Glad that everyone in my family didn’t agree with them, and that I had a plan and I’ve carried it out, and succeeded. No failure needed.”
He liked her honesty, even if it might include a subtle dig at his lack of plans. But he’d give her the benefit of having good intent. “I admire that. Good that you had support, too.” He wished his brothers all supported him in his new endeavor, but at least Mrs. G seemed to.
“Thanks. Not everyone feels that way is all. My last boyfriend didn’t.”
He was glad his chewing hid the smile trying to burst out. Not that sharing something personal with him meant she was interested, but it was good to know she dated men and was maybe available. Not that he was going to ask her out. Not now, anyway. If ever. Still, he couldn’t help the bubble of hope that rose in him and had caused his smile.
He’d been attracted to several people these last years, but he rarely acted on it. Sometimes just crushing on someone was satisfying enough. Now, he wanted an actual relationship, and most of the people he’d been attracted to hadn’t been compatible enough for that.
“Too personal, huh?” she asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
“No, I... That sounds rough.”
“We weren’t that serious, so it was more disappointing than rough. But thanks.” She seemed about to say something else, but instead she popped the last of her roll in her mouth.
He focused again on his food. But Jena’s presence made actual focus impossible. Even his toes seemed aware in the way they tingled that she was mere inches from him. But that wasn’t the biggest problem. It was that he wanted to be even closer.