Sterling hoped he didn’t look as disturbed as he felt. Germs and dirt had bothered him ever since his mother had been ill and he’d had to fight to keep her in sterile conditions without the tools to do so properly. “Do you have hay fever?”
She nodded, eyes still leaking down her cheeks. “And a thousand other maladies.”
“Then why are you in the garden?” he asked.
“Can’t let a silly thing like sneezing hold me back.” She glanced over his shoulder and her attention caught. “Hi, Betty,” she said. “We were just talking about you.”
Dread crawled up Sterling’s spine and he turned slowly, coming face-to-face—or more accurately, chest-to-face—with his nemesis.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Likewise, Mr. Knight.” Betty’s cheeks were rouged with pink, and she was arm-in-arm with a rounded woman who had short pink hair. “Let me introduce Edith Partridge. Edie, this is the man I was telling you about.”
His stomach tightened, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. The old biddies made him nervous, but with good reason.
“My pleasure,” Sterling said, offering Edith Partridge his hand.
She didn’t take it. “From what I hear, it’ll be a pleasure when you leave.”
Andanother burn from an old lady. “Give me a chance, Mrs. Partridge. You might be surprised.”
She blinked hawkishly behind glasses. “I’ll reserve judgment.”
“That’s your right.”
“Oh, lay off the new guy,” Brooke chirped. “He’s not so bad.”
Sterling’s lips parted. She’d defended him. Mildly, but still. He couldn’t recall the last time someone stood up for him. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself, so his friends and acquaintances had never bothered.
“Uh, thank you,” he croaked, throat dry.
“We need to speak with you,” Betty interrupted, jabbing his chest with one wrinkled finger.
“About what?”
“Consider this a warning,” Edith continued, picking up where Betty had left off. “If you upset Kat, we’ll run you out of town.”
He should have laughed. Most men would, when threatened by two octogenarians, but he could see their determination to protect Kat from harm and respected that enough to hold his tongue.
“I don’t want to upset Kat,” he told them. “That’s not why I’m here. I want to find a way for us both to win, and I genuinely believe we can.”
Edith peered up at him, then her mouth pursed. “I can see that you do believe that.”
“Don’t disappoint us,” Betty added, removing her finger and backing off. “Good day, Brooke. Mr. Knight.”
* * *
“Does nowsuit for me to take up some of your time?”
Kat raised her forehead from the desk to see Sterling in her doorway, arms crossed over his chest, the top two buttons of his shirt undone to reveal a vee-shaped patch of pale skin. Eminently lickable. Where did that thought come from?
She must be overly tired, her mental barriers lowered by drowsiness. Yeah, that was it. With difficulty, she shifted her focus from his chest to his face. Much safer.
“Sure thing. Have a seat.”
He didn’t move. “Actually, I’d like to take you for a walk.”
Her forehead scrunched. Perhaps she’d dozed off and was dreaming. “A walk?”