Page 9 of The Magical Tea Shop

He cleared his throat. “So, the rent increase. Five percent,” he blurted. It was what he expected her new landlord would do. Although they hadn’t had that discussion, it’s what his research indicated. Surely Derrick Cross wouldn’t raise it more than that. He might go as high as ten percent, but it was a small community. All the businesses in the complex were small, local enterprises.

Ivy gave a little frown.

Jaxon blinked and shifted at the slight downturn of her lips. “Too high?”

“Hmm,” her lips leveled out and tilted up on the side. “I was thinking more in line with half that.”

“Oh.” Half that might be an issue. She leaned forward. He got a nice eyeful of cleavage before he noticed that her smooth hands, adjusting the teapot, trembled a little. “Well, so, okay,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she graced him with that sweet smile. “We have a verbal agreement.” She spoke decisively.

Jaxon nodded and drank his Earl Grey. Ah, well, it would be Derrick’s problem, he supposed. Heshouldspeak up. He knew it, but couldn’t bring himself to contradict her. That tremble in her hands had cinched the deal. Selling should not put his tenants out of business. He just wanted out of Hazard. Jaxon needed to believe he could escape, and that nothing else would change.

“These are for you.” She handed him the antique tin.

Automatically he reached out, fingers brushing hers as they closed in on the cool metal. The contrast between the cold tin and the warmth of her skin made him clear his throat again. “That’s not necessary.”

“I want to.” Ivy leaned forward again. “You always look out for me. I’ve been able to build my business because you worked with me to keep the rent low. I’m grateful. I plan on expanding my menu and adding a few savory lunch items. What do you think? Would finger sandwiches be a hit?” His eyes dropped to her hands again. He almost reached out to clasp them.

Her hand flashed, fingers crossed, then not.

“A hit,” he said slowly, then shook his head, remembering he was late for his game. “I have to get to the baseball field. I almost forgot. We’re playing the road crew tonight.”

“Tough game?”

“Well, they’re a tough group of women. They usually win.” He gave a wry smile.

“Shall I come watch? It might bring you luck.”

“I’d love that.” He could feel himself beaming. What would it be like to have this woman in the bleachers cheering him on? He might even hit a home run.

“Anyway,” he scooped up the tin. They rose at the same time, and Jaxon found himself leaning toward Ivy as she leaned toward him. When she looked up, their eyes met, and time stopped. Jaxon jerked back to reality and straightened. He coughed. “I—”

Ivy shot out her hand in a businesslike gesture. “Let’s shake on our agreement.”

Jaxon tucked the tin under his left arm, and as he had been longing to do, took Ivy’s delicate hand in his right. His hand encompassed hers. Her fingers were warm and soft, like her.

They shook. Reluctantly, he let go.

Once outside, he wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Good lord, what had he done? First, he’d leaned forward like he was moving in for a kiss. Totally inappropriate. Second, no way was he supposed to be negotiating new leases. He was leaving. It wasn’t his place. But maybe, this way, her new landlord wouldn’t be able to screw her over.

Right then, Jaxon determined to write up the new lease after the game. He could drop it by tomorrow. It was only decent. Jaxon prided himself on always doing the decent thing.

Derrick Cross could lump it.

Jaxon ran upstairs and changed into his uniform. His phone buzzed, and he read the text from his teammate Joel.

“Your turn for treats. Don’t forget again.”

“What are we, twelve?” he muttered. Now he’d need to stop at the store on his way. His eyes fell on the tin.

“Perfect.” Ivy had saved him. She was good luck.

He snatched up the tin. Quickly, he put out fresh water and a dog treat for Montgomery. It was only fair since he had to stay home alone. Montgomery gave his peanut butter-flavored biscuit a delicate sniff, barked once, and gobbled it in a single swallow.

No sooner had Jaxon arrived at the game than Joel grabbed the tin. “What’s this? You’ve gone all fancy-schmancy. A tin with a curly-girly design on it? Seriously, dude.”

“It’s afleur-de-lis. It’s French. Lay off.”