Braden wrinkled his nose. “If he’s going to get the first stages done before Alexia and the guys return, he’ll need help. Since you’re not leaving for school anymore, I assume you need work and this should be right up your alley. After your years at the museum, I thought you’d enjoy seeing how a trained archaeologist works.”
“Of course, but…”
She checked Braden’s expression. He seemed serious. After he’d walked out on her, leaving her frustrated beyond belief again, she’d decided she needed to try a completely different tactic. Inspiration had not hit yet, but there had to be a way around whatever his reason was for keeping them apart. It was time to put the excuses aside.
Now, three days later, she and Jamie had fallen into a comfortable working relationship. He was fun to talk to, with his mischievous turn of phrase, and worked like a packhorse without stopping for hours at a time. He also refused to take apart any of the piles without her jotting down copious amounts of notes.
“Even though chances are the items have no relationship to each other, I’d hate to lose any clues to the identity of an object by moving it too quickly. Since the owner of the collection is dead, and his widow can’t tell us much about the items, we need to create as much of a record of history as possible. If we do find anything valuable, we’ll need to establish evidence of provenance—essentially documenting the items were honestly acquired for this private collection.”
So Chelsea sat with a notebook, writing down his comments as he picked through items one at a time. What was in the pile, what it sat on, where in the room. He took the notebook from her every now and then and scribbled down a few technical phrases, Latin terms, or dashed off a sketch on the page.
“You’re an amazing artist,” she commented as he handed back the book.
He blinked in surprise. “You think so? I’m just an amateur, really.”
She turned the book around and pointed to the open page. “You drew that in less than two minutes and you don’t think you’re talented?” The sketch of the ornate jewelry box was perfectly proportioned, the details easily identifiable.
He gave a wry grin. “I should be taking digital photographs but…I lost my camera.”
A small snort escaped her. “I believe that. Did you find your cell phone? You couldn’t find that yesterday.” Jamie shook his head and she smiled. He knew at a glance what era most of the items in the room were from, but he hadn’t made it to the house once yet without forgetting or losing something.
“A lot of people use their computers for note-taking as well, but there’s something I appreciate about using pen and paper. Or in this case, you using pen and paper. I hope you don’t mind.”
Chelsea laughed. “It’s not like you’re making me slave out under the hot summer sun, Jamie. This is fascinating. Really.”
She settled back and got ready to take more notes. Instead, he sat next to her and tugged the notebook from her fingers, flipping through the pages, adding small notations in the margins. She breathed in his scent, clean sandalwood teasing her nostrils. His thigh pressed tight against hers, the warmth of his body spread like a blanket. It was tempting to lean closer and press their torsos together.
But it wouldn’t be fair. She’d kept a very tight rein on herself as they worked, not wanting to torment him like she’d accidentally done at their first meeting. She struggled to find a distraction. She needed to control herself this time.
“Do you travel a lot with your work?”
“I was in New Mexico last, Greece before that, and the Isle of Man at the start of the year.”
He said it so casually, but Chelsea’s heart thrilled. “Greece? Isle of Man? Oh, I’d love to see those places. It must be so exciting.”
He nodded, his hands gentle as he picked up a Japanese float resting beside him. He examined it in the light before rising to lay it in a box with other cataloged items. “I love traveling, but it’s been a little stressful. It means I’m off the North American continent a lot of the time, and my family hates that. My mom in particular doesn’t like that I’m not available to visit as often as she wants.”
“Moms never want their kids to go away. I’d love to travel someday. I’m saving up.” Well, she had been saving. After she had finished helping the family pay off her dad’s emergency medical bills, and contributed to keeping her sister in school, the funds had dried up and disappeared. All her plans were completely turned around now that she couldn’t afford to head to college.
He winked at her and his beautiful smile warmed the coldness that had begun to creep inside her chest. “Good for you. There are a lot of interesting places in the world.”
“I know, but some people don’t see it that way at all.” She sighed. Jaffrey’s Cove was nice, but she wanted to be able to visit some of the places she’d read about. Experience them for herself. The stolen opportunity twisted her gut tight, and she fought to keep the bitterness from coming through as she spoke. “I still think you’re lucky your job takes you around the world. I bet your family is proud of you.”
Jamie snorted. “My family hates what I do for a living.”
“You’re kidding? But you’re so good at it.” She stared after him as he paced.
“It has nothing to do with how good I am, it’s more to do with being a common laborer and getting my hands dirty.”
That made no sense. “They would prefer you didn’t work?”
“No, no, it’s just that I didn’t go into the family business, and that, my dear, was like kicking them and saying they weren’t good enough for me.”
Ahhh. “Oh, now I get it. My family doesn’t like what I do either. So I just try not to talk about it with them.”
Jamie brushed his hands together as he turned to frown at her. “I’m a complete idiot. I never even thought to ask if you helping me would cause problems. I assumed since Braden said you were available—”
“Oh, this isn’t the problem. I had quit my position at the museum since I had planned on leaving…” She coughed lightly and brushed at imaginary lint on her shorts. She didn’t want to talk about her aborted college attempt. It still hurt too much. “Helping you is not a trouble at all. I needed to find a new job. No, it’s my side job they don’t like.”
He raised a brow.
“I dance.” Holy cow, were her cheeks getting hot? She was blushing.
She never blushed.
His gaze darted over her again, quick, impersonal this time. “I don’t think you’re built right for the ballet. You could belly dance, or do modern jazz. I can easily see you in a funk ensemble, or then you could—” He broke off, dipping his head in embarrassment. “Damn, sorry. You’re not something to catalog.”
Chelsea smiled to reassure him. “I said you were good. You’re right, although I did train ballet before I hit my growth spurt in my teens.”
He perched on the arm of the loveseat, staring at her. “Chelsea, can I ask a personal question? Feel free to tell me to take a hike, but…what’s up with Braden?”
“What do you mean?”
He checked his watch. “He’s going to arrive in twenty-seven minutes. He’ll pace around the room, look you over carefully, grunt in my direction, then disappear into the kitchen.”
The giggles in her belly started to rise. How had Braden thought he could slip anything past this observant man? “He comes home to make lunch, that’s all.”
Jamie’s expression betrayed his disbelief. “He’ll call out to see if you want anything, remember at the last second that I’m here and add my name to the question. After we both turn him down he’ll sit there…” Jamie pointed to the table, “…and watch us while he eats. Actually, he’ll watch you. Then he’ll clean up, come and ask me if I need anything, tell you to behave yourself and he’ll leave after one final dirty look in my direction.”