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shaking his head.
    â€œNo trucks. I want local. Fresh.”
    â€œPeople in hell. Ice water,” she countered. “It’s too early in the season here to have much of anything to harvest unless it’s greenhouse grown.”
    He picked up an armload of lilac branches and tossed them over the side of the truck into the bed. “Roman says Nathan supplemented shipments with veg he bought locally.”
    â€œWhen he could.” Cady added an armload of her own.
    â€œRoman says he’s been going with local stuff, too. Actually—” Damon flicked an assessing glance at her “—he said you were the one who went to the market for him. Said he’d never have made it through if it hadn’t been for you.”
    Cady shifted uncomfortably. “Roman talks too much.”
    â€œNot necessarily.”
    â€œDon’t get any ideas. He was shorthanded and working his butt off, so I pitched in to help. It’s not an ongoing program. I’ve got a business to run.” She shut the tailgate of the truck. “You want the farmers’ market, big guy, that’s your job. I’d be happy to write down directions for you.”
    â€œBetter yet, go with me.”
    â€œHello? Business to run?” She tapped the side of the truck.
    â€œJust this once, that’s all. Show me around, introduce me to the people you do business with.”
    â€œMoney’s the best introducer there is.”
    â€œAnd you know as well as I do that business is about relationships.” He gave her a second glance. “Then again, maybe you haven’t figured that out.”
    â€œI’ve got all the relationships I need.”
    â€œYou might be surprised. The right one could change your whole world view.”
    â€œMy world view is fine, thanks very much.”
    â€œLook, just give me tomorrow morning,” he said in exasperation. “I’ll keep it quick.”
    She reached in her pocket for her keys. “Tomorrow won’t work. They only hold the market twice a week—today and Saturdays.”
    â€œTwice a week? For a town with as many restaurants as Portland? You’re kidding.”
    â€œIt’s May. It’s Maine. You’re lucky the market’s even open this time of year.”
    â€œDon’t sound so happy about it.”
    She’d promised to be civil, Cady reminded herself, and even for her, she wasn’t doing a very good job. She let out a long, slow breath. “All right. It just so happens that I’m working a job today for a summer client, so they won’t know if I push them off until later. If you’re obsessed about having me take you to the market, I’ll take you. One hour only,” she warned. “And you’d better be ready to go now. I’ve got a job site to be at this afternoon.” She opened her driver’s door.
    Damon glanced at the rubbish-filled truck bed. “Are you going to take it like that?”
    â€œWhat, you think people are going to steal my dead leaves?”
    â€œNo, because I figure it’s all going to blow out by the time we hit the highway. Let me drive.”
    â€œI didn’t know Manhattanites knew how to.”
    â€œI’ve seen it on TV,” he said.
    â€œForget it. I know where we’re going. For your information, the dump’s on the way. I was already planning to stop.”
    He eyed her. “You just want to be behind the wheel.”
    â€œThat’s right,” she said, getting in. “Nobody moves me from the driver’s seat.”
    His slow smile set something fluttering in her stomach. “We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Four
    I t was what she got for being nice, Cady thought as they drove up the highway to Portland. If she’d thought twice, she’d never have agreed to be stuck in the tight confines of a vehicle with Damon Hurst. He sprawled comfortably in the passenger seat, his lanky frame making the cab