“We’re not hiding Belle’s light under a bushel.”

Brodie laughed. “Not sure that’s the right expression for the context, but, yeah, Belle Starr it is.”

“Good. So, that’s done. And now I can’t wait to get my lab set up so I can get the body lotion going.”

He pulled some pouches of unrefined shea butter out of an open box. “So, how does this work, exactly?”

“At home, I’d send the formula to our lab and production facility, but of course we don’t have one yet. And it’s not easy to find a place that’ll work with us—not when we’re such a small operation. A new product requires its own equipment, maybe even a separate building. It’s more than most companies want to take on, but I think I’ve found a place in Idaho that’ll handle it for us. I might’ve stretched the projections a little.”

Given the beauty of this scent, he doubted that. “I can’t believe you’ve already found a place.” From the next box, he pulled out some bags of plant-based emulsifying wax. “Pastilles? What is this stuff?”

“So, I’ve got two different formulas. One’s a body butter. It’s super rich, and for that I don’t need water. It’s great for winter, when the air’s dry and cold. It’s also great for older women. The other’s a lighter formula. For that…” She hefted a jug of distilled water. “I use water. But, of course, water and oil don’t mix, so you need an emulsifier, which basically has two ends. One is a water-loving molecule, and the other likes oil, so it enables the two to mix. That way it won’t separate like salad oil.”

“Is it weird that I’m really turned on right now?”

“Well, we are talking about oil.”

“Nah, it’s your intelligence. Your passion’s sexy.”

He loved watching her turn from embarrassed to…awed. “I let someone strip me of my confidence. But around you? I feel like the sexiest woman in the world.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “That’s because you are.” But he could tell she was still distracted, and he needed to figure out why. “You talk to your parents about the university idea?”

“They love it. They’re seriously off and running with the idea. This is the best thing ever for my father. Good stress he can handle. Bad stress…” Her gaze went unfocused. “I just worry about him.”

Bingo. “Did Marcel say something?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, she stopped moving. “Yesterday he said, if I’d seen my father in that meeting, I’d understand why he killed my lotion idea. I hate that I’m stressing my father out. He’s got enough to worry about, and I’m only making it worse.”