by Ryan, Joya
“Maybe you should settle things with him,” Jen said. Which only made Annie want to roll her eyes again.
Problem was, nothing about Luke or his being home settled her. Damn it! Why did she have to react to him the way she did? She shouldn’t have lost her control, but all the hurt and confusion and anger from the cold morning she’d woken up alone without Luke came flooding back the moment she saw him. And those weren’t the only feelings overflowing in her.
She could still feel his lips on her skin. His hands sliding up her thighs—
“Lunch order!” Nana said loudly, hanging up the phone and placing a sticky note in front of Annie.
“Twelve turkey sandwiches?”
Her grandmother nodded. Those rosy cheeks and that big smile made Annie wonder why she was suddenly so happy. “Yep, and that’ll be for delivery. So you’d better scoot.”
“We don’t deliver, Nana.”
“We do on orders of twelve or more. New rule. Just came up with it.”
“Nana, that is not going to work.”
“Well, unless you want our grand total today to be zero dollars and zero sandwiches”—she paused to look around the empty café—“then I suggest you take what you can get and hurry up.”
That was all she said as she headed toward the back room, the smell of baking bread drifting through the swinging kitchen doors.
Crap. Her grandmother was right. A few sales were better than none. Especially on a slow day like today.
Jen peered over the counter and squinted at the scribbled piece of paper. “What kind of address is ‘Apple Heights Dock’?”
The breath stuck in Annie’s throat. She looked at her grandmother’s writing, then glared at the door she’d just walked through.
“That would be the loading dock up Apple Heights Road.”
“So, the Jacobs property?” Now Jen was obviously trying to hide a smile.
Not wanting to lose her only sale of the day, Annie stifled the urge to scream and started making twelve identical turkey sandwiches, wondering what gossip would arise after this encounter with Luke.
As if reading her mind, Jen said, “I hope Luke is wearing a cup today.”
“In and out,” Annie said to herself as she got out of her car and grabbed the box of sandwiches.
Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she walked around the parked forklift and toward the big rig, which was already laden with several crates of apples. The loading area was a patch of dirt right off the side of the road, and if there weren’t machinery and a massive shed, it’d look just like a turnout. The apple trees were planted right up to the road, endless rows taking up miles of the countryside. The smell of sunshine and Granny Smiths wafted through the air.
There was no one in sight.
She walked over to the shed and peeked inside. The doors were pulled open, and she called out.
“Hello?”
No response.
She wove around the equipment, looking quickly for any sign of life. The low hum of the floor-to-ceiling cooler buzzed, and she tried not to think about what had happened at this place the last time she was there.
But when she saw the stack of hay bales in the corner, a flash of heat and the memory of how Luke’s skin felt against hers hit her hard.
Off in the distance, a small engine roared, and it was growing closer. Annie rushed out of the shed just as a four-wheeler came through the trees, around the corner, and into her line of view.
“Oh. My. God.”
Luke pulled up, shirtless and sexier than ever. The sun reflected off his tan and incredibly chiseled chest, and Annie suddenly couldn’t swallow correctly. He parked right in front of her and hopped off. Confidence dripped off him—much like that tiny bead of sweat currently sliding from his sternum to his impressive abs. Not that she was staring.
“What great service.” He smiled, taking the box from her hands.
She tried to come back with something, but found it hard to speak. She was too busy trying not to drool.
Good Lord, the man was better looking than she remembered. Low-slung jeans that were dirty from working the orchard, and flank after flank of muscle that wound down his hard stomach and strong chest. Aviators and a ball cap covering his dirty blond hair completed the I’m-a-hot-farmer look, and Annie was reminded real quick how she got caught up in Luke the first time.
“When I heard that there was this new little café in town, I just had to try it.” He set the box on the four-wheeler and faced her. “I’m glad you got your place, Annabelle. I’m happy for you.”
His words were coated with so much sincerity it made her eyes sting. She had never kept it a secret that she’d wanted a place of her own. Something she’d created and could be proud of. Something she could build a life around that had nothing to do with her mother, her past, or her social class.
“I know you’ve been working on this for a long time,” Luke said a little lower. “I’m really proud—”
She cleared her throat, cutting Luke off, and tried to get her damn brain to work. The look in his eyes promised more sweet words, which she couldn’t handle. She needed to keep her composure. And she needed to get out of his presence. Now.
“Where is everyone else?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s twelve sandwiches here.”
“They’re all for me.” When she frowned, he said, “Your grandma informed me that you only deliver on orders of twelve or more.”
Of course she did.
“Great. Well, the total is forty-eight dollars, then I’ll be on my way.”
“So soon?” Luke stepped toward her, that six-pack of his flexing and making her body do stupid things, like tremble. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“I said my piece at the bar last night.”
He smiled and ran a palm over his stomach where she had slugged him. She could now see why her knuckles had been sore. The man was a brick wall.
“And I got your message loud and clear,” he said with the same sexy smirk that had landed her in trouble two years ago. He took another step forward, and Annie couldn’t get her legs to move.
He took off his sunglasses and hooked them through a belt loop, then looked her in the eye. Big mistake, because those intense green eyes were enough to drop a woman to her knees. And she would know.
“I’m sorry, Annie. I never meant to hurt you when I left.”
She was a little shocked by his admission. Part of her thought that night they shared would forever be ignored. At the very least, never mentioned. But he’d just laid it out there.
“I never said you hurt me.” She may have felt it, but she’d never admitted it out loud. And she wasn’t about to start now. Because it didn’t matter. Yes, she knew he was leaving. Knew the expansion he was asked to head up was important. Hell, it wasn’t like he’d made her promises. But she had thought she had another week with him. At least a hug good-bye, maybe. An explanation as to why he took off without a word. For some reason, she honestly thought—
She shook her head. Again, it didn’t matter. He obviously didn’t feel about her the way she felt about him. That one night, she’d lost her judgment. It was naive to think he actually saw the real her. Maybe even liked the real her.
“I’ve thought of you”—he took another step—“every day.”
She scrambled to make her mouth churn out words, but everything she wanted to say didn’t sound right in her head. It would either confirm that she had thought of him too or that she cared that he’d thought of her in the first place. Or she’d ask the one thing she’d been dying to know: Why? If he’d thought of her, why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he check in? Why did he leave her in the middle of the night to wake up on her own? And why did he leave early in the first place? Was it to get away from her?
Asking and admitting that she wanted answers would be showing weakness. Something she wouldn’t do. So, for the first time ever, Annie bit her tongue.
Luke raised a
brow. “Nothing to say to that?”
She bit down harder.
“Have you thought of me? Thought of that night we spent together?”
“No,” she said. Even though it was a lie.
“No, huh? Maybe you just need a refresher,” he said in a husky drawl. He was so close she could smell the sun on his skin and feel the shade on her face from the bill of his hat. “It was right over there.”
Annie knew where he was referring to. The shed. Behind the backhoe, with all the leftover hay bales from the harvest parade.
“It was late, but still hot out.” He slid a finger down her neck. “You were wearing a little white dress that lifted around your thighs every time the breeze picked up.”
He laughed a little, and the sound made her knees weak.
“All damn day I had been praying for a windstorm just so I could get a glimpse …” That finger trailed lower, to the swell of her cleavage peeking out of her tank top.
She swallowed hard, trying to figure a way out of here and away from him, but she couldn’t. Because some part of her was already caught up, and while she knew this was bad—she glanced at his mouth—very, very bad, she couldn’t look away.
“I think you’re remembering,” he said, his lips barely brushing over hers. “You tasted like cider and cinnamon … everywhere.”
Her breath caught and, God help her, she did remember. He had swept her off her feet. Made her feel things no other man had before. Fragile, sexy, safe. He had overwhelmed her with his strength. His presence. Just like he was doing now.
“Luke …” It was a plea, to make it stop. Or to make it not stop. She didn’t know what to want, because no other man had ever had this effect on her.
She didn’t need anyone. It was the motto she’d lived by since her mother started taking off when she was a kid. So why did she feel like she needed Luke to kiss her while at the same time feeling like he was awakening things she didn’t want him to?
She was tired of the jokes. Of the whispers. Throughout the years, Luke had never laughed at her expense.
“There’s something between us, Annabelle. You know it and I know it.”
She did know it. Or she was just so desperate to believe it like she once had. She closed her eyes to try to get a grip, but Luke pressed his mouth against hers, and any hope for reason was lost.
She groaned, swept up in the moment, in his heat. His dominance. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed everything out of her. Every ounce of hurt he’d left her with. Every second she’d missed him over the past 730 days. Everything. All that mattered now was the feel of him.
“God, Annie, I’ve missed you,” he growled against her lips.
Plunging his tongue deep, he consumed her. Drank her down and returned for more. Her entire body awoke. The power of his kiss, and the way he pressed all that intensity into her space, made her head swim.
She slapped her palms against his torso, his hard muscles jumping beneath her hands. She wanted more. Damn herself later, but right then, she wanted him so badly it was a physical ache. One she’d pushed aside for too long.
The loud sound of another four-wheeler approaching snapped her out of the moment. She pulled away from Luke before the rider came upon them.
“Hey, boss,” Will Upton said, getting off the machine and walking toward them. He was sixteen and worked summers and after school on the Jacobs land. When he caught sight of Annie, he stalled.
“Uh, hi, Annie.” He looked a little frightened of her. Great. Just great. Will had actually come into her café a few times and seemed to like her food. Probably another patron now lost to her flying-fist rumor.
Fortunately, Will caught sight of the box on top of the other four-wheeler and smiled. “Ah, sweet! These are the best sandwiches.”
“Help yourself, Will,” Luke said, then he returned his attention to Annie.
“I’ve got to go,” she announced loudly, and a bit shakily.
Luke grabbed her hand, but she yanked it away. He didn’t say anything. Just let her leave. Which was smart, considering she was so wired she wasn’t sure if she was about to jump him or hit him. Her body was extremely confused, and her mind was in worse shape.
“Thank you, Annabelle,” he called as she walked to her car. “For the sandwiches.”
The fact that he felt the need to clarify exactly what he was thanking her for caused a fresh dose of confusion and embarrassment to rush through her.
She couldn’t speed out of there fast enough. With her heart racing and her stomach in knots, she left Luke in her dust and wondered if this was how he’d felt when he was the one doing the leaving.
“Shit!” Luke kicked the gravel and watched as Annie drove away. So close. He had been so close to convincing her they were perfect together. Something he had figured out a bit too late, it seemed.
He saw the look on her face when he pushed into her. Felt how her body instantly molded to his. Felt her give in. There was hope still. And he wouldn’t give up.
“Got the whole north block picked, and the crates are on their way up to be loaded,” Will said around a mouthful. He was chowing down on his sandwich and didn’t seem to have a clue as to what had just happened. “Man. Annie sure is amazing,” he said, staring at his turkey sub in appreciation before taking another hefty bite.
Got that right. The woman was all sass and vinegar, but when she showed that softer side, it made a man melt. Luke knew this from experience. Which, if he was honest with himself, was a reason he’d left the way he did.
There were no secrets between him and Annie. He’d told her he was going, and that the job offer was a great opportunity. He got to develop a piece of land that, while still attached to the family name, was all his own.
“If you go back east to harvest, can I come with you?” Will asked.
The kid was ambitious, and Luke liked that. “There’s already a crew there. And there aren’t any trees on the land quite yet.”
Before he left, he hired a staff and a right-hand man who would oversee the planting and maintenance. That would allow him to live in Sweet Hill and make trips only a couple times a year, to check in on things. The profit from the new farm would secure the Jacobs legacy, which his grandfather had built. A legacy Luke himself had helped with.
“Well, maybe someday,” Will said. “If you go back?”
Luke loved his town and his family and had always planned to grow old in Sweet Hill. But after that night with Annie, he’d realized there was even more to come back to. Realized what kind of woman she really was compared to what kind of woman she let people see.
“Maybe someday,” Luke said. “Finish your lunch and help the crew load up when they bring the crates. Then call it a day, Will.”
Will gave a small salute.
Luke wanted to curse again, his thoughts refusing to turn from a tall redhead with pouty lips. He knew how most of the men in town saw her. Annie wasn’t her mother, a fact that seemed lost on many of them. She wasn’t the kind that made a man run away; she was the kind that made him stick around.
Luke grabbed a sandwich. He needed a clear head and cold shower if he was going to go another round with Miss Annabelle Thompson.
Chapter Three
Annie threw the covers back and huffed. Her skin was too hot and her mind was racing. All thanks to Mr. I-Don’t-Believe-in-Shirts.
She glanced at the clock. Three a.m. and she still couldn’t sleep. The afternoon had been a nightmare. All day she’d walked around with a clouded head. Ever since she saw Luke at the bar, she couldn’t find her balance. She got up, walked to the bathroom, and splashed some cold water on her face.
“You just stood there, like a moron,” she said to herself in the mirror. There was no way she could let that happen again.
No. He couldn’t get the last word. It couldn’t be that easy for him to just waltz into town, back into her life, and kiss her. And it was time he knew that.
She threw her hair up in a pile of curls on the top of h
er head, yanked on her boots and leather jacket, and grabbed her car keys.
Two right turns and a couple miles of apple trees later, she pulled in front of Luke’s place. It was the same small cabin he’d had since turning eighteen, despite his fortune, and she respected his simple lifestyle.
She banged on the door. From inside, she heard a small crash followed by Luke’s low cursing.
Luke opened the door. Great, shirtless again. Only this time, instead of jeans he was wearing only black boxer briefs, and Annie almost forgot why she was there. She reminded herself to stay strong—and for God’s sake, to stop staring at his package.
“What the hell are you doing, Lucas Jacobs?”
He rubbed his eyes with one hand and said, “Sleeping.”
“No, I mean what the hell were you doing earlier today?”
Fully awake now, his gaze roamed the entire length of her body, and a hot flush was left on every inch that those intense greens graced. He smiled, apparently liking what he saw, and rested his forearm against the edge of the open door, doing all kinds of yummy things to his muscular chest and torso.
“I like this look on you, baby.” He winked, taking in her outfit again, which consisted of small pink pajama shorts, matching cami, boots, and jacket. Oh, crap! She had been so focused on giving Luke a piece of her mind she hadn’t thought about her appearance. “And if I had known you made these kind of house calls, I’d have ordered a hell of a lot more than a few sandwiches.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t think you can throw that charm around, top it off with a sexy smile, and assume that’ll work on me.”
“You think my smile is sexy?”
Now she really wanted to scream. “What happened today is not a good idea. I already had a shitty afternoon at the café. No one came in, because everyone thinks I’m some unhinged woman who goes around socking men.”
“Aren’t you?” He was teasing, but she wasn’t in the mood. Because between her lack of judgment when it came to Luke, and how the town perceived her, more than her feelings were at stake—her business was in jeopardy. And that wasn’t acceptable.