“It’s Montana Sky,” he said.
She moved closer to him, lifting her chin as she smelled him. “Don’t be freaked out by the smelling,” she said.
“Too late,” he responded, actually inching away from her. She backed him into the sink, finally fisting a handful of his shirt—a deliciously dark blue button-up that had never seen work on a ranch—and holding him in place.
“Smells decidedly blue,” she said. “Like the Montana sky. Something peppery in there too.” She closed her eyes and cocked her head.
“How does blue have a smell?” he asked.
“Shh,” she whispered. “I’m smelling.”
“Olli, you smell with your—”
“Shh.”
He fell silent, and Olli enjoyed the warmth of his body so close to hers. He really did smell fantastic, and her head swam. Her thoughts swayed even as she tried to grab onto them and hold them still.
“It’s cedar,” she said, opening her eyes. “Blue smells like linen,” she said. “Water. Air. Sky. Clean. Blue is clean.”
He looked down at her, and her heartbeat did a stuttering rhythm. “You like this?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, releasing his shirt and backing up. “I was working on something with a spicier scent.” She walked away from him, mentally commanding herself to stay in control. Just because he’d held her hand didn’t mean they were building a real relationship.
She picked up the vial with the concoction she’d put together last week. “What do you think of this?” She used a cotton swab to put a drop of the liquid on a card. She waved it back and forth to dry and returned to where he stood against the sink, both hands braced at his sides.
“Smell.”
He did, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t like it, she could tell, but she waited for him to say something.
“It’s too strong,” he said.
“Which part?”
“It smells too much like incense,” he said.
“Fair enough.” Olli turned around, her hopes sinking. “I have something else.” She’d been trying for crisp and clean, musky, and woodsy, yet…artistic. It wouldn’t suit someone like Spur, who was more rugged and leathery and cowboy than a man in a business suit. Each man would have his own tastes, and she just needed to find something that would appeal to someone besides her.
She repeated the task of getting the scent card ready and returned to him. “Smell.”
He did, and his eyebrows went up. “It’s crisp,” he said. “Almost alcoholic.”
Olli knew he was right, and she nodded, her mouth pressed into a line. “It’s too strong too.” She turned away from him, wondering why she couldn’t find the right notes. “That’s all I’ve got.”
“You need something subtle,” he said. “Like the honey milk in that candle.” He came up beside her, but he didn’t touch her. “Start with something warm.”
“Cinnamon?” she asked. “Vanilla?”
“Sure,” he said. “Make it subtle. Make it carry the other scents, the way you did in the candle.”
“What other scents, though?”
“Something crisp,” he said. “Clean. Outdoors. Dirty.”
“You literally said clean and dirty in the same sentence.”
He grinned at her and shrugged. “A man wants to feel like he can take on a wild bear for the woman he loves. That’s a dirty job.”
“Or maybe you just have a dirty job, so you like the smell of dirt.”