As he tramped past her laden with a stack of large cheddar wheels, Gavin Miller gave her a sly look, as if he knew what she was thinking. She yanked her thoughts away from Luke’s body and tried to make sense of his behavior toward her. He’d been almost standoffish until the passionate kiss. But even then she’d felt a reluctance in him, as though he hadn’t meant to do it.

A surge of power straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Once he touched her, he’d been unable to stop himself from wanting more. That was a rush. But he’d come here just to clear his guilty conscience. When that was done, he would return to the screaming fans, blazing lights, and adrenaline-fueled battles of his first love.

She couldn’t compete.

“That’s it for the cheese in here.” Luke squatted to check the lower shelves.

“I can’t believe you finished so quickly,” Miranda said, sliding off the stool.

“Many hands make light work.” The writer lounged against the doorjamb, his gaze traveling between the two of them.

Luke straightened with that controlled grace she loved so much. “Nice job of pitching in,” he said with a nod to Gavin.

“You thought I was just another pretty face.”

“I hear there’s hay to be stacked in the barn.” Luke gestured for Miranda to go ahead of him.

Gavin stepped aside before following them into the changing room.

“Can’t say I ever want to wear one of these again.” Luke struggled to strip off his coverall. Miranda gave in to temptation and helped ease the fabric off one of his shoulders, her fingers sliding over the swell of his biceps. He seemed to freeze for a moment before pulling his arm free. “Thanks,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ve got the other one.”

Once again Miranda felt Miller’s gaze on her. When she met his eyes, he lifted one of his dark eyebrows and gave her a conspiratorial wink. Uncertain of how to respond, she smiled faintly. She found herself torn between liking his impish humor and feeling uneasy about the undercurrents that swirled around him.

When they walked outside, Kort stood by the open doors of the delivery van. “You want to make sure everything looks okay?” he asked her.

Miranda smiled at the blond giant. “You’re from Wisconsin, which means you already know more about cheese than I do. So close it up!”

A swirl of activity saw the van locked up and everyone loaded into the two vehicles. As she pointed the truck back down the lane, Luke spoke. “I don’t regret kissing you in there because it felt damn good, but it wasn’t my intention.”

She gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. “What was your intention in coming up here?”

He shrugged. “Farming is hard work, and you’re just a little slip of a thing.”

His description of her was so sweetly old-fashioned that it chipped away some of the tension.

“I intend to get rid of Orin,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Astonishment made her jerk her gaze around to him.

He was staring forward, with his jaw set and the tendons in his neck drawn taut. “He’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve his job.”

He was riding his white horse to her rescue. She kept her thumbs hooked on the wheel but flexed her fingers wide as the knowledge washed over her like a warm Caribbean sea. Not that his gallantry would do her any good. “Orin owns the concierge service that the Pinnacle contracts with. If he loses the job, every other concierge there does, too.”

Luke muttered a curse and raked the fingers of one hand through his hair, leaving it entrancingly disheveled. “You could start a concierge service and hire them all back.”

She hoped to do something like that one day, but she didn’t have the capital yet. “It’s a nice thought.”

Luke huffed out a breath but kept his gaze forward. As the heater warmed the air, her nostrils caught his distinctive scent of citrus aftershave and strong, clean male. How did a person smell like strength? She inhaled, bringing it into her lungs and trying to etch it on her memory.

Pulling up in front of the barn, Miranda shifted the truck into park. Without looking at him, she said, “I’m glad you came.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught the movement of his head toward her. “I wasn’t sure you’d feel that way.”

The SUV bounced up beside them. “Thank God,” Miranda muttered as she opened her door and got out, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets and swallowing the yearning that was nearly choking her.

She hung back as Luke marshaled his squadron, reciting the tasks Patty had set for them and gauging each man’s expertise in this new territory. When he turned back to her, she had herself under control again.

“Okay, I’ll give you a tour of the barn,” she said, striding toward the gate. Kort leaped forward to open it for her, swinging it out just enough for a human to slide through without tempting the staring cows to make a break for freedom. “You’re a real farmer,” she said with an approving smile.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The rest of the men trooped through the gate, and Kort latched it closed.

Several of the cows took a few steps toward the group, their soft eyes lit with curiosity.

“That’s a nice-looking herd,” Kort said. “Calm. Your brother treats ’em right.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.” She started to pick her way across the semifrozen hoof-churned paddock toward the barn door. As she wobbled over a rut, she felt Luke’s firm grip on her elbow. A sizzle of pleasure rippled through her, making her skin tingle and her backbone soften.