“You don’t need any bonus points, Olli,” he said. “I ripped up your flowers. Ruined your product. Broke your candle.” He shook his head. “I’m lucky you haven’t kicked me back to Bluegrass.”
She shook her head, but her smile wouldn’t go. “You took me dancing,” she said. “Brought me one of your trivets, even after I teased you about the knitting. You’ve been wearing this super-sexy, clean cowboy hat every time I see you, and you’re going to help me with my men’s line. I think we’re about even.”
He reached up and pressed on the “super-sexy” cowboy hat, and Olli wondered when the last time someone told him he was handsome and desirable. She wanted to tell him.
Her perfumery sat down the lane about three hundred yards, and as they approached, she saw Charity’s red Mini Cooper parked out front. A groan gathered in the back of her throat, and Spur either heard it or sensed it.
“What?” he asked.
“Charity comes on Tuesdays to label bottles,” she said.
“Who’s Charity?”
“She works for me,” Olli said. She was normally grateful for the college student who came two or three times a week to help in the perfumery. Olli didn’t see her often, and she didn’t want to take Spur in to meet the beautiful blonde who peeled and stuck stickers to bottles, printed new labels, fulfilled orders, and anything else that needed to be done during her shift.
She paused on the road in front of the perfumery, and Spur did too. He watched the building for another moment before looking at her. “I like you, too, Spur,” she said, employing all of her bravery. Fitting, as she’d spritzed Take A Chance in her hair moments before Spur had rung the doorbell.
She felt like she’d just leapt off of a cliff, and she was definitely taking a chance with the handsome cowboy billionaire next door.
“Okay?” she asked.
Spur gave her a tight nod, those midnight eyes lit up from within again. He leaned down, his free hand sliding easily along her waist. Olli’s eyes drifted closed; her heartbeat shot through her body at triple its normal speed.
He was going to kiss her. Any moment now, Spur Chappell was going to kiss her.
“Olli,” Charity called. “I need you in here, stat.”
Spur backed up, and Olli opened her eyes. She caught him putting his cowboy hat back on his head as he turned toward the door of the perfumery.
Charity looked like she’d been panicking for a while, and that was when the scent of something burnt and something decayed hit Olli straight in the chest. She gagged and started for the door. A few seconds later, Spur said, “What is that smell?” and Olli wanted to crawl in the nearest hole, call the maid service to come clean up the perfumery, and hide until the mess was cleaned up.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Charity said. “It was fine when I got here, but then this just started boiling. I didn’t even know it was on.” She hurried over to one of the testing plates Olli used to heat and mix fragrances.
She’d been using it earlier that day, as she experimented with strawberry and sage. It smelled like manure now. Burnt manure.
“I must have forgotten to turn it off,” Olli said, quickly putting on the heat-resistant glove and plucking the vial from the holder over the burner. “It’s off now?”
“Yeah,” Charity said. “I unplugged it the moment I smelled it. I texted you, but then I saw you out the window.”
“Great,” Olli said darkly, and she wasn’t sure if she was glad Charity had unplugged the burner or seen Spur about to kiss Olli. She put the vial in the sink and turned on the cold water. The glass shattered, and Olli screamed and jumped back.
With the water running and the stench in the air, all of Olli’s senses were on full overload. She took a moment to just breathe, and then Spur was there, right at her hip.
“I’ll clean up this broken glass,” he said, his voice right at her ear. “You go open some windows, okay?”
She looked at him, and he nodded like, It’s okay, Olli. Not a big deal.
She said, “Thanks, Spur,” and went to do what he’d suggested. She had fans in the back too, because sometimes it got really hot in the front of the perfumery. She hauled those out and got them blowing. She used them when she needed to clear the air—literally—so she could work on a new scent.
She sent Charity home and waved to her from the front door. When she turned back to the perfumery, it was just her, Spur, and a lot of open windows.
“I think the smell is mostly gone,” he said, looking around as if physical evidence of scent could be found.
“Thanks for helping,” she said. “Definitely double bonus points for that.”
He smiled, always so sure of himself. Olli envied him for that. “Do you think you can still smell anything?” he asked. “I’m happy to stay and lend my Y-chromosomes.”
“We can try,” she said. “I really do want to know what cologne you’re wearing.”