“Let me look,” Ronan said.
Wincing, she pulled her hand away. “It’s bleeding a lot. Does it look like it needs stitches?”
Ronan dabbed at the small cut. “No. It’s tiny. There’s a lot of blood. Here, hold this.”
She pressed the cold cloth to her head as he fumbled to open the bandage. “Sorry,” she murmured.
“What are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault.” Ronan wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, to see if it was as soft as it looked. His gaze drifted down to her mouth. If they were going to spend time together, it was going to be hard to resist kissing her.
Though Ronan didn’t work hard at romance, he had enjoyed the regular company of a number of beautiful women. But he usually liked to spend his free time in solitary pursuits, which left little for long-term, serious relationships. Still, he was curious about this particular woman. What was it about Charlie Sibley that he found so intriguing?
“Hello! Anyone home?”
She forced a smile. “That would be the real Joel Bellingham,” Charlie murmured.
Ronan drew her wash cloth away and then neatly covered the cut with a small band-aid. “There. All better.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
She stared at him for a long moment and Ronan’s gaze fell to her lips, so lush and slightly parted. He wanted to lean forward and take just a quick taste, but she seemed to sense what was on his mind and quickly stepped back.
He watched as she hurried out of the apartment, her footsteps fading on the stairs. They’d have plenty of time to figure this all out, Ronan mused. A lot could happen in six weeks.
2
CHARLIE WALK ED CHEF Joel to the door, then shook his hand. “We’ll be looking forward to your first order. Please, don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions or concerns.”
He patted the folder she’d given him. “I’ve got everything I need right here,” he said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte. We’ll talk soon.”
She closed the door behind him and smiled. Mistry Bay oysters in one of the best new restaurants in Boston would be a huge account for the farm.
The effects of the champagne had worn off and she counted herself lucky that she’d been able to complete her sale pitch without an embarrassing incident. What had she been thinking? Ronan Quinn had thrown her into a complete tizzy.
“A tizzy,” she murmured to herself. It was the perfect word for how she felt when she thought about Ronan. In fact, the word applied to her everyday life lately.
Since she’d been back from New York, she’d been waiting for some sign, some new direction for her life. Charlie had always had a laser-like focus on a goal. At first, it had been the move after high school, and then auditioning and attending acting classes and finding an agent. After that came the jobs, each one bigger and better than the last.
But here in Sibleyville, there was no goal anymore, besides getting up in the morning and going to sleep at night. She was drifting aimlessly through life and she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It really was time to make a few hard decisions about what she really wanted to do. Cursing softly, she climbed the stairs to the second floor.
When she got to the tasting room, she quickly tidied up the mess from Chef Joel’s visit. She’d heard the shower through the door of the apartment, but the water was off now. Drawing a deep breath, she crossed to the door and rapped on it softly.
The door swung open and Ronan stood on the other side, shirtless, his cargo shorts riding low on his hips. His hair was damp and droplets clung to the smooth expanse of his chest.
Charlie drew a deep breath and the scent of soap and shampoo filled her head. Her fingers twitched and she fought the urge to reach out and smooth the water from his skin. “I thought it might be good to show you the nursery and the farm,” she said. “You’re going to be working at both.”
“All right,” Ronan said. “Just let me grab a shirt.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll just wait outside in the truck.”
The image of Ronan Quinn half-naked was now burned into her brain and it was a memory she didn’t really want to forget. His body was beautiful, lean yet muscular, every limb in perfect proportion. It had taken every last ounce of her resolve to walk away.
She could have reached out and touched him, knowing that he might take the action as an invitation. But what then? Would he have kissed her? She wanted to believe that she saw desire in his eyes, but she’d only ever been with one man and that gave her little to use as a reference.
The only option left to her was to wait until he made the first move. At least then she wouldn’t be humiliated by misreading his signals. Charlie hurried down the stairs, stumbling on the last step and grabbing the rail for balance. But maintaining her composure was going to be the difficult part. Whenever she looked at him, her knees got wobbly and her brain refused to function.
Charlie grabbed a brochure from the rack near the front door, then walked outside to her SUV. She hopped behind the wheel, the started it up, a love song blaring from the radio. With a soft curse, she reached out and turned it off. The last thing she needed was to start thinking about romance. Besides, if the curse was to be believed, then falling in love within the village limits of Sibleyville was impossible.
A few minutes later, Ronan stepped outside, squinting his eyes against the noonday sun. He slipped his sunglasses on. She honked the horn and Ronan started toward her. When he was settled in the passenger seat, she handed him the brochure. “There’s a map inside. You’ll need to learn how to get to the pond and the bay by road as well as by water. I’ll show you by water tomorrow, but today, we’ll go by land.”
“I don’t have a car,” he said.
“How did you get here?” she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.
“Bus?”
Charlie frowned. Why would a guy like Ronan be traveling by bus? He might as well have told her that he’d rode up on a camel. “Bus?”
“Yeah. It was part of the deal,” he said.
“What kind of deal was that?” A sudden sting of doubt pricked at her thoughts. “You didn’t just get out of prison, did you?”
This time he laughed, a deep, resonant sound that caused her heart to flutter. She glanced over at him and took in his smile. God, he was really handsome when he smiled. “Did you?”
“No,” he said. “My grandfather sent me on this trip. He picked the place, bought me the bus ticket and sent me on my way.”
“Why?”
He paused for a long moment, as if he was deciding exactly how much to reveal to her. “When me and my three brothers were just kids, our folks died in an accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlie murmured.
“We all worked together on the family business,” he said. “We build custom sailing yachts. Quinn Yachtworks in Seattle.”
“So that’s why you knew so much about the skiff.” She risked another glance over at him and caught him staring at her from behind his dark glasses. “Why would he send you away?”
“He wanted us all to live a different life for a while. To figure out if we wanted to continue on with the family business or strike out on our own.”
“So