He shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. “There were only four posts.”
It was an effort for her to tear her eyes away. His muscles were rippling. And her stomach was tightening. “I thought it would take you longer. Your shirt’s dry.” She held it up.
Yes, but he wasn’t. Kevin took it from her, debating putting it on. Climbing into the vehicle, he decided to leave the shirt on his lap.
Having him so close to her, sweaty, gleaming and naked from the waist up, had an unsettling effect on her rebelling stomach. Her hands tightened on the wheel. “Why aren’t you putting your shirt on?”
He looked slightly amused. “Because, while my throat’s dry, I’m not. If I put it on now, it’ll just get damp again.”
Was he laughing at her? Was there color creeping into her cheeks? She had to stop herself from raising her chin defiantly. “Sorry, I forgot to leave you some water. I’ll get you back to the house as fast as possible.”
“That would be nice.” His lips felt parched. So did the rest of him. “So would lunch.” He looked up at the sun as she drove back to the farmhouse. “Or is it past that time? I didn’t wear a watch today and I can’t really tell up here.”
“It’s closer to dinner.” More guilt. She should have fed him, but then, she really wasn’t used to having company. Her socializing was done either at the Salty or at the house of one of her relatives. She was never the one who did the entertaining. She bit her lip as she slanted a glance at him. “You must be starving.”
“I could eat.” His stomach rumbled. Kevin grinned. “Possibly a small horse.”
“I don’t have one of those.” She thought of the contents of her refrigerator. “But I do have a steak. You’re welcome to it.”
He got the impression that there was nothing else. “What are you going to have?”
She shrugged. “I’ll find something. Cereal. Toast. A piece of fruit.”
All things a bachelor might eat in a pinch. His grin widened. “I take it you’re not very domestic.”
June frowned. Her grandmother had always gotten on her case about that. She told him exactly what she told her, except a little more coolly. “I fixed cars, not meals.”
“There’s that defensiveness again.” He was beginning to think that was simply her way. “I’m just asking questions, June, trying to get a handle on things.”
“Why?” She looked at him. “Where are you planning on carrying it?”
He saw the farmhouse in the distance. “Have you always been this suspicious of people?”
“Not people, strangers.”
He didn’t like the way she slapped the label on him. “I’d think that after sweating over your tractor and your rotting fence poles, I wouldn’t be that much of a stranger to you.”
“A stranger is someone I haven’t known since birth.” June backtracked a little.
“That means I’m always going to be a stranger to you.”
June shrugged self-consciously. “I guess we can work on that.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Arriving at the house, she pulled up the hand brake. The next minute, he was getting out and striding up the front steps as if he owned the house, instead of her.
Jumping out on her side, she was quick to follow him inside. He headed straight for the kitchen.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked as he opened the refrigerator.
Kevin took out the steak, a half-empty bottle of tomato sauce, a wilting onion and what appeared to be a half-filled container of rice. He deposited them on the narrow counter. “Well, you said you weren’t domestic—”
She moved so that she was between him and the counter. “So?”
Kevin put his hands on her shoulders and very patiently moved her out of the way. “So who do you think taught Lily the basic fundamentals?”
“You?”
He laughed as he looked for a pot. There was one dented Dutch oven in the cabinet beneath the sink. He took out his prize. “Don’t look so surprised, some of the world’s best chefs are men.”
She crossed her arms before her. “You fix cars and cook.”
“Among other things.” Reaching for the salt on the counter, he stopped and looked at her. “Unless, of course, you feel I’m trespassing.”
That would be cutting off her nose to spite her face. Besides, she was hungry, and curious to boot. She stepped back, waving him on. “Hey, trespass away. I never liked to cook, it was just something I had to do.”
“Good?” Dinner was on the table and he’d been watching her eat now for two minutes without any comment. Although he was never one who fished for compliments, his curiosity got the best of him.
Very slowly, she drew the fork from her lips and swallowed. Part of her had been hoping he’d fail, but he hadn’t. Reluctantly she nodded. “Good.”
It was hard not to miss her tone. “You say that grudgingly.”
She lifted one shoulder in a careless gesture. “I was just wondering if there was something you weren’t good at.”
He laughed shortly and mostly at himself. “Lots of things.” He said the first thing that came to mind. “Conversations, for instance.”
“You seem to be holding your own.”
“You’re not being demanding.”
Putting down her fork, she looked at him. “And if I were?”
He thought of some of the dates he’d allowed himself to be set up with. “Then I’d probably shut up and be quiet.”
“Talk,” she urged, digging in again. “I like the sound of your voice.”
Her head down, she missed the smile that rose to his lips as he looked at her. No one had ever said that to him before.
Turning from the sink, June carefully wiped her hands on a dish towel that seldom saw any use.
Ordinarily she’d let dishes sit in the sink and get to them whenever she needed a clean plate. Drying more than one dish at any given time was unheard of. But when dinner was over, she’d been quick to start washing the dishes she and Kevin had used. She didn’t want him thinking she was completely hopeless on the domestic front.
Why that should matter was something she felt was better left unexplored for the time being.
She looked at him as she set the towel on the counter. He was just finishing up the glasses they’d used. “You’re frowning.”
It wasn’t actually a frown but more what Alison had once referred to as his “thoughtful face.” He let the protest ride.
“Just trying to figure out what time it is.” He’d forgotten his watch this morning. Kevin shook his head as he glanced toward the wide window over the sink. “I haven’t a clue.”
He shrugged philosophically. Time really didn’t matter right now, he supposed. For the first time in his life, he didn’t need to be anywhere at any particular given time. It felt rather odd not to have a constricting schedule, as if he was suddenly leading someone else’s life. Someone who wasn’t productive.
He was still trying to figure out if