Sunrise at Strawberry Farm: As delightfully delicious as strawberries and cream, this is the perfect summer romance to read in 2020.

by Kellie Hailes

  ‘That must have been hard for you. You’re not a talker.’

  Duncan’s downturned lips twitched up a tad. ‘Whatever gave you that impression?’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘Oh just a childhood of grunts and monosyllabic responses.’

  She nudged her father, shoulder to shoulder, to let him know she wasn’t being harsh. That she was mostly teasing.

  ‘It seems that I save the words for moments when I need them most. When I need reassurance or a good talking-to, as I did that night that I spoke to your grandad. That night you left.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hannah didn’t know what to say next. Wasn’t sure what her father was getting at.

  ‘You see, Han…’ Duncan’s hands fisted together, his knuckles bulging with tension. ‘What you didn’t hear was your grandad giving me a right talking-to. I confessed my worries, blurted it out, and he told me that I needed to pull my head in. Said that he could see the farm would be in fine hands, that you loved the place as much as any Beety before. And that fresh ideas could only benefit us in the long run. That the times were changing and if we didn’t change with them we’d go the way of the dinosaurs.’

  ‘But,’ Hannah pursed her lips and tried to make sense of what she was hearing, ‘if that were the case then why didn’t anything change? You could have introduced polytunnels and extended the season. Grown blueberries and raspberries like I’d suggested. You didn’t need me to do it.’

  ‘But we did. I did. I’m not the kind of person to implement sweeping changes. Your grandmother and mother had to work on me for years before I was okay with opening the farm shop. Any of the changes you wanted to make were to be your path. Your destiny. At least, I thought it was.’ Duncan unclasped his hands and wrapped them around Hannah’s. ‘But you’ve followed another path haven’t you, Han? And even through my grumpy old eyes I can see you’ve done well, that you’re good at it, that you’ve found your place in the world.’

  The dampness that had built in her father’s eyes finally overflowed, a single tear on each cheek trickled down.

  ‘I’m sorry for being such an arse, Han. For not breaking out of my self-imposed angry prison to be the father you deserve. I’m sorry I didn’t show you the encouragement you needed when you were younger. That I didn’t acknowledge what you did today. Didn’t thank you. I was wrong then, and I’m wrong now. You saved the festival today, and made it so we didn’t have to cancel tonight or scale it back. Thank you, Han. Truly.’

  The mistiness was back, blurrier than ever, but this time it was on Hannah’s side.

  ‘And I’m sorry for taking off the way I did. Without a word. You deserved an explanation well before now. You all did.’

  ‘What’s that saying of your mother’s? Past is past. And we can’t take any of it back. Just hope to move forward to a better future. Promise me you’ll come back and visit? I promise we won’t make you work from sun-up to sun-down if you do.’

  ‘I promise. And I’ll happily work if you want me to. This is home, and we’re family. We stick together, right?’

  ‘Always, my girl. Family.’

  The sadness in her father’s eyes had abated, but his words still held a weight that Hannah suspected he’d carry with him for some time yet. A lesser man would’ve moved on like nothing had ever happened, but her father’s heart was a sensitive place, despite outward appearances, and she knew he’d hold this conversation close for a long time, go over the past, wish things could be different.

  And they would be. She’d make sure they were. Warm words, big hugs and meaningful shows of love would see them move forward and one day, if she was lucky, develop a bond that was as strong as the bond between the Beetys and their land.

  Could the same be said for her and Grey? She crossed her fingers and hoped so.

  ‘So, Dad, should we make an agreement that from now on if we overhear something that could put a wedge between us we bring it up, air it out, then shake it off?’ She stuck her hand out.

  Large hands curled around hers, held her hands like they were precious, like she was precious.

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Good.’ She nodded. She angled her head to the side. ‘Hear that?’

  Duncan glanced up. ‘Hear what?’

  ‘No rain. And if I’m right that means we can pull the covers back.’

  His eyes sparkled. ‘Were you checking the radar as obsessively as I was?’

  ‘Would I be the daughter of a farmer if I didn’t?’

  Duncan slapped her on the back, the same way she’d seen him slap Grey’s back a hundred times before. The back slap of a kindred spirit. Of an equal.

  They were going to be okay. More than okay.

  Okay enough that she could stay?

  She shrugged the notion off; deemed it ridiculous. She had to go back to London. Her family wanted her to go back – it was all they could talk about. She and her great career away from the farm.

  Even if they secretly wanted her to stay, she needed them to take the step she could not. Tonight may have seen a resolution to a decade-old issue, but it wasn’t enough to clear her fear of rejection. If they wanted her to stay, if they needed her, they had to be the ones to ask.

  ‘Can I leave you and Grey to deal with the covers?’ He nodded at Grey who was standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on his face.

  ‘Sure thing. Happy to.’

  With a quick squeeze of her shoulder, Duncan left the two of them alone and headed back to the farmhouse.

  ‘Good chat?’ Grey settled onto the spot beside her. Nowhere near as close as they’d sat before. Nowhere near as close as she wished he’d sit.

  ‘Great chat.’ Hannah looked at the lines on her palms as an uncharacteristic shyness overcame her. ‘Thanks for doing what you did tonight.’

  Grey’s eyes widened as he held his hands out, palm-up in a ‘who me?’ way.

  ‘And don’t act all innocent.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘You got me out on the dance floor just so you could get me close enough to Dad so that you could foist me onto him so we’d have no choice but to talk. And make up, as it turned out. So, thank you.’

  Grey dropped his hands and shrugged. ‘I’m glad my plan worked, and it wasn’t all selfless. I enjoyed myself out there. With you.’

  With you.

  Two small, seemingly insignificant words, and it felt like the world had dropped away, and all that was there was Grey. Grey with his deep, green eyes that were oh-so serious, yet filled with sweetness. Grey with his broad shoulders and chest that were made for lying upon, ear pressed tight over his heart, the rhythmic thump-thump chanting ‘home-home, home-home’.

  ‘I hear we’re to be pulling back the covers?’

  ‘You heard right.’

  ‘So shall we?’ He stood and held out a crooked arm. ‘My lady?’

  Hannah threaded her arm through his and they wandered out to the backyard.

  Dusk had seen it turn into a sparkling grotto as solar-powered fairy lights glowed from every tree and shrub and the garden borders that lined the rain-damp grass.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It is, but not as beautiful as…’

  Grey stopped, turned to face Hannah.

  ‘Sorry. That was… I was…’ He cleared his throat and Hannah swore his cheeks were glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the fairy lights and everything to do with accidentally, nearly complimenting her. ‘I should engage my brain before talking.’

  ‘Too much beer?’ Hannah gently teased, knowing he’d had all of two glasses, if that.

  ‘Far too much. It’s strong [HN46]stuff. Goes straight to the head.’

  ‘Must do since I’m pretty sure you just called me beautiful.’ She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, looked up at him through lowered lashes, and prayed she hadn’t pushed things too far.

  ‘Pretty sure I didn’t call you beautiful.’

  Hannah closed her eyes, her heart sinking. She’d misread the situation. Embarrassed herself. And now they were going to go
back, if not straight back to square one – the land of ignoring each other when they weren’t barely putting up with each other, but square two – Awkward Land.

  ‘But I’m pretty sure I was about to.’

  She released her lip and surreptitiously wiped her hands, clammy with nerves, on her shorts seconds before they were tangled in Grey’s hands.

  ‘Good. I’m glad. More than glad.’

  Their gazes locked.

  Was it possible to experience tunnel vision and feel like you were holding your breath under water at the same time? For time to stand still yet move at a pace that left you confused and discombobulated?

  Hops mixed with the scent of soap and strawberries infused her space. Surrounded her. Caressed her. Made itself at home.

  Feather-light fingertips grazed the side of her cheek and came to rest just under her chin. And those eyes of Grey’s searched hers, seeking silent permission.

  Hannah answered the best way she knew how. She placed her hand on his chest – the thump of his heart hard against her palm – and closed the space between them as she lifted herself up on her tiptoes.

  Grey disappeared from sight as her eyes closed. The only sense of him that of his firm lips brushing hers. Rough on smooth. Want upon want. Her heart skittered with excitement as he increased the pressure, his hand tangling in her hair, bringing her closer. Demanding more.

  She opened her mouth, just a little, and he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, bringing a smile to her face.

  Just like old times. But different. They’d grown. Weren’t two young kids anymore. This wasn’t Grey who’d admitted he’d read about lips being tugged by teeth in his mother’s romance books and wondered if it would have the same effect in real life, this was Grey who was older, more experienced, who knew the effect it had on her.

  Hannah inched forward, unable to bear the tiny distance between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist, bringing him even closer. A sigh escaped as Grey’s lips abandoned hers and found her neck. Teasing and titillating with kisses, licks and nips that caused her thighs to squeeze together as the area above them tightened, heated and pulsed.

  Grey’s mouth found hers again. They opened to each other, their tongues twisting and tasting, reacquainting, until their breath came short and the beat of their hearts came hard.

  How she wanted him, all of him.

  Needed to feel him against her. To be with her. One with her.

  Not just for one night, but for all nights. Forever[HN47].

  Not fair, Hannah.

  She couldn’t promise forever to Grey, she could only promise for now.

  And Grey deserved better.

  Deserved not to be left again.

  He pulled away, his eyes narrowed, curious.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Hannah glanced towards the fields. ‘Distracted.’

  ‘Thinking about leaving?’

  Hannah searched for signs he was annoyed, or sad, or wanted her to stay.

  His expression was as inscrutable as his tone.

  ‘I have to. You know that.’

  ‘I do.’

  The magic was broken. Without another word they headed to the fields and began pulling away the pavers that held the plastic down, removing the wire that kept the plastic up, and folding it back as they dismantled the tunnels bit by bit.

  Hannah hated the tension she’d caused. The hope she’d destroyed. She couldn’t leave their night like this. Leave Grey unsure of her feelings. Believing that she was playing with his emotions.

  ‘We still have tomorrow. I don’t have to leave until tomorrow night.’ The words she’d hoped would be full of promise fell flat. ‘And I can come back one day.’

  What about the day after that? And then the day after that?

  She’d have to return to London. Continue with her job.

  Panic caused her heart to stutter.

  When had her life been downgraded to ‘her job’?

  And why was returning to everything she’d worked for, everything she’d thought she’d loved, causing dread in her heart?

  ‘Then I’ll look forward to tomorrow.’

  Grey’s words rang hollow in her ears as he leaned over the strawberry row and kissed her on the cheek.

  Hannah nodded, wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Tried to tell herself it was the temperature dropping that had caused the goose bumps and not the discomfort of sudden indecision.

  Grey pushed himself up and dragged the back of his hand over his eyes. ‘It’s late. How about we head home, and put the gear away first thing?’

  Hannah went to take Grey’s hand, to head back to his as he’d suggested. He took a step back. Ducked out of reach.

  ‘No, Han. I can’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mislead you. To make it sound like you were to come back to mine. I just… I can’t do that. It has to be all or nothing. I can’t be any other way.’ He shrugged and turned his attention to the plants between them. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’

  Hannah nodded, her heart squeezing painfully as she watched him wander home, and wondered if his night would be as sleepless as hers would be.

  She had to go back to London. To the life she’d created. Had to. She couldn’t stay and play strawberry farmer here. Couldn’t let the people who’d put their trust in her down like she’d let her father, her family, down all those years ago.

  And returning to the city didn’t mean she’d be letting Grey down. Or that things couldn’t somehow work out. That she couldn’t figure something out. This time wasn’t like before. She wouldn’t be running away. She’d be leaving.

  And the difference between running away and leaving? When you left you could come back.

  At least, she hoped that was the case.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The insistent repetitive tone yanked Grey from a deep, dreamless sleep. He reached out and aimlessly searched for his alarm clock. It’s urgency matched by the startled hammering of his heart. It had been years since he’d needed his alarm. Usually he was up and about well before it had any need to do its job.

  Not today it seemed.

  His hand fell upon the rectangular machine and fumbled around until he found the snooze button and hit it.

  Sweet, blessed silence.

  He rolled over onto his back, peeled his eyes open, stared up at the ceiling and tried to process what had happened the night before. The thoughts that had kept him awake into the small hours circled once again.

  Should he have kissed Hannah? Let her close once more? Was he a fool to trust her again?

  But what was he trusting her with? They’d made no promises to each other. If anything he’d ensured nothing could go further. Not if she left.

  Was it right to put her in that position? All or nothing? But how could he not? He couldn’t go through the pain of losing her again. Long-distance wasn’t his thing. He wanted Hannah, yes, but he wanted all of her, all the time.

  But was he willing to be so stubborn he’d lose her completely?

  He wasn’t sure if it was all a wonderful dream, or the beginning of a new nightmare.

  Grey pulled his pillow out from under him, pushed it over his face and let out a muffled growl.

  He was walking the finest of lines, treading in ridiculously deep water. Ready to fall. Ready to drown.

  Why couldn’t he be like Matt? Fun and flirtatious. Willing to take things as they came?

  And yet…

  Despite knowing he wasn’t that person, knowing he ought to pull away, to get out while he could… part of him wanted to keep walking, to keep treading. Consequences be damned.

  The alarm went off once more, demanding he stop faffing about mooning after a woman he may or may not be able to have; instructing him to get up and get moving. There was a festival to oversee and while they’d organised it so well it should run itself, last-minute things still needed to be sorted and set up. And a loa
d of plastic and wire and pavers needed to be put away.

  His feet hit the timber floor with a thump, the coolness of the boards a small shock to his system. His ears pricked up as he heard a key turn in the front door, followed by the tell-tale squeak of the door opening.

  How many times had his mother caught him or one of his brothers sneaking in or out that way? Too many times to count, and not once had anyone bothered to oil the door and get rid of the squeak.

  A soft click told him the door was shut. A smile lifted his lips as he realised the key to his Hannah wonderings and worries was only a few metres away. Maybe Amethyst could shed some light on what to expect and help set his mind straight.

  He pulled on the T-shirt he’d discarded on the floor the night before and fancied it held a hint of Hannah’s warm peach scent about it, then rolled his eyes at himself. He was being ridiculous. There was no scent. Just as he couldn’t feel her hands still touching his chest through the thin material, even if part of him felt as if he could.

  He tiptoed out to greet Amethyst, who was tiptoeing even more dramatically than he was into the kitchen.

  ‘Who’s been a bit of a stop-out, then?’

  He laughed as Amethyst jumped a good half-metre into the air and let out an ear-piercing shriek.

  She whipped around to face him, her hand on her rapidly moving chest. ‘Is that how you greet all women? No wonder you’re still single. God, you gave me a fright.’ She began to fan herself while expelling long breaths. ‘You’d think all these years of having paparazzi jump out of nowhere to snap away at me would’ve been some use.’

  She wagged her finger at him, then turned back around and stalked into the kitchen.

  Grey followed her in, a hint of guilt dissolving his glee. ‘Sorry, Ams. Couldn’t help myself. Blame the door. It used to squeak at all times of the day and night as my brothers snuck in and out.’

  ‘They didn’t bother going through the windows?’ Amethyst flicked on the kettle and began pulling out mugs, teabags and sugar.

  Grey squared his shoulders and straightened up to his full height. ‘I’m the smallest of the lot of us. Window-hopping and the Walker boys weren’t really made for each other.’