He laughed, the sound filling her perfumery. She hoped it would get caught in all the cracks so she could listen to it again later.
“Not dirt,” he said. “The idea of getting dirty. Like your idea of A Hopeful Future.”
“So what does that smell like?”
“Pine, and dirt, and sky all at once.”
“I don’t know how to achieve that.”
“Mint, and water, and leather,” he said. “Definitely leather.”
She looked at him, finding him gorgeous and beautiful for being there with her. He worked long hours, and yet, there he was. Tall and fresh and utterly charming.
“Leather,” she said, her mind firing now. “Wood. Maybe…campfire smoke.”
“Something smoky,” he mused, his eyes turning thoughtful. “That could work, because men like being the king of the grill too.”
“I’m not going to make something smell like meat,” Olli said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Smoke is an interesting concept though. I wonder if it would pair with an herb.” She let her mind wander, and she picked up a pen and started taking notes.
Spur stayed nearby while she did, and when her thoughts finally ran out, she looked up to find him watching her.
“Sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I get carried away.” She put the pen down. “What time is it?”
“I have no idea,” he said, his voice soft.
Olli pulled out her phone and saw it was after nine. Surprised, she looked at Spur. “Why didn’t you interrupt me?”
“I liked watching you,” he said simply. “You have a unique mind, Olli.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Yes,” he said, standing from the stool he’d found. “While you were working, I looked up a couple of things.” He turned his phone to face her. “I was thinking we should go to this tomorrow night.”
Olli peered at the screen. “A night out in the country.” She looked at Spur. “Country music, Spur? Could you be any more cowboy?”
“I sure hope not,” he said, grinning. “Glen Ricks is playing, and I love him. He’s so good with a guitar. It’s only an hour away. I’ll take you to dinner, and we’ll go to the concert, and you know, there will be a lot of men there. Lots of smelling opportunities.” He grinned at her and put his phone in his back pocket.
She considered him, knowing she was going to say yes but wanting to drag out the moment just so he’d know she wasn’t really a country music fan. “Country music,” she said with a scoff. “It’s like you’re Texan and not from Kentucky.”
He laughed, and Olli joined in with him. “What do you like?” he asked.
“Kentucky bluegrass, of course,” she said.
“Perfect,” he said. “We’ll go to the Monroe Memorial concert next month.”
“You’re kidding,” she said as he stepped into her personal space and wrapped his arms around her. “You can’t get tickets to that, Spur. They’ve been sold out forever.”
“Maybe I already have tickets,” he said. “You’re obviously not the only one who likes bluegrass music in Kentucky.”
Olli simply gazed up at him, wondering what was happening right now. Were they a real couple? Had he been about to kiss her earlier? When he said he liked her, did he mean he was interested in her romantically?
How had this relationship bloomed so quickly?
“You don’t have to use them on me,” she said, coming back to Earth. She stepped delicately out of his arms. “The investor is coming in two weeks. We won’t need to pretend to be together next month.” She turned her back on him, because until whatever was happening between them was defined, she had to treat him as a fake boyfriend.
“Come on, Olli,” he said, a hint of frustration in his voice.
“What?” She didn’t turn to look at him.