Love Language (The Aristocrat Diaries 1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – MILES

Thank God she’d said two cars.

I wasn’t sure I could take being in one car with her right now.

Gabriella Hastings had to be the clumsiest person I’d ever met in my life. How she wasn’t walking around in a permanent cast, I had no idea. The last accident was fine, but this one…

Tripping over the shed doorway?

Jesus.

And the chaos that had ensued after…

Well, that was exactly why I was so thankful she’d suggested we take two cars. The last thing I needed was her sitting next to me in front of the work truck with the extra-large boot while I had a fucking boner.

Her and her stupid brown eyes and her stupid fucking pretty dresses and her even stupider bloody lips.

I was having nightmares about kissing her. Nightmares because I knew it was impossible. There was no way, despite our newfound friendship, that it would be appropriate for me to kiss her.

She was my boss’s daughter. She was technically kind of my employer. She was out of my league.

She was driving me crazy.

Why the hell had I agreed to let her come with me? I should have said no, that I couldn’t wait, that I didn’t have the time, and we’d have to go another day.

Instead my stupid mouth had said yes, that I’d wait, and I’d made up some bullcrap about needing lettuce seeds.

I didn’t need lettuce seeds.

There were four thousand lettuce seeds of varying types in the seed storage.

I needed a lot of seeds, but none of them were leafy salad greens.

Now, I had to buy more.

Fuck it.

She would be the death of me. I knew that much. I was going to have to get a new job just so I could think straight again.

I never should have apologised to her for judging her. If I hadn’t, it would have been far easier to keep her at arm’s length. Now, I had the feeling I’d be seeing her more than ever.

We’d already been closer than ever twice.

I didn’t need to have her pressed against me for a third time.

I couldn’t promise myself that I wouldn’t break my own rules.

If we found ourselves in another position like we did the other night in the garden, with my hand wrapped around her wrist and her looking at me, or like we were not that long ago with her so close she practically melded into me, I was going to kiss her.

There would be no way I’d stop myself.

Especially not when she looked at me like she wanted me to do it.

I pulled into an empty parking spot in the garden centre car park and waited for her. We’d gotten split up on a junction when the lights had changed, so I had to wait a few minutes before I finally saw the white Range Rover pull in.

How many cars did she have access to?

She snagged a spot not too far from me and hopped out, turning and locking the car as she headed towards me. “That bloody tourist held me up! If you don’t know where you’re going, pull over. If you can’t do the limit, pull over so those of us who can do it can do it!” She finished her mini tirade with a little huff that was almost adorable.

Almost.

Shut up, Miles.

“How many cars do you have? Are they on a belt like at the supermarket and you flick through them like a catalogue?”

She blinked at me. “What? Oh. The Range Rover.” She laughed and shook her head, putting the keys into her bag. “No. This is Dad’s favourite car, so I don’t usually drive it. Although it is my favourite, too.” She sighed. “He’s not going anywhere so I asked if I could take it because it has the biggest boot. That’s all.”

“That doesn’t answer my question about the cars.”

“Oh. Um. Not including the work ones? Like the truck you’re driving?”

“Not including those. Your personal cars.” I pulled a shopping trolley out and rolled it over to her, then got myself another one.

“Well, there’s the old Land Rover, but we don’t really take that anywhere. Unless someone gets stuck in flood waters.” She flashed me a grin. “There’s this Range Rover that Dad uses, a little Peugeot that Aunt Cat runs around in unless she’s procuring farm animals for her planned petting zoo, the newer Land Rover I usually drive, and I think there are a couple of others. An Audi, maybe, but I don’t know. Nobody ever drove it, so I think Dad might have sold it.” She shrugged and walked into the garden centre in front of me.

“Your aunt is planning a petting zoo?”

“Apparently so. It explains a lot, don’t you think?”

“A little too much. I’m not chasing anymore goats. I hope she knows that.”

“Dad made it very clear he’s not against the idea, but before she procures any more goats, she needs to ensure she can keep Victoria and Albert safe, or he’ll rehome them all.”