Sonny let out a low laugh. “I know what you mean. I’ve got six and they’ve eaten stuff I didn’t think was possible. That’s why I built a custom fence last March to keep them contained.”
She added, “I’ve been at this business for almost two years and it’s going well. Some local stores carry my product and I’ve just been picked up by Whole Foods, which is huge. Hopefully in another year I’ll be making enough profit to breathe easy.”
JP eyed her, noting the way her eyes lit when she talked about her work. Obviously she loved it. “What about the rest? Is it just you and Charlie?”
Since his name was mentioned the kid decided he should answer. “Yep, it’s just us. Always has been. She says we’re exclusive.”
Pinning her with a stare, he replied to Charlie, “Sure you are, slugger. But when the right person comes along there’s always room.”
She must have read the challenge in his eyes because her spine snapped straight and her expression became shuttered and withdrawn. “Charlie and I are a two person team, JP.”
He thought about it for a few moments, turned it over in his mind, and made a decision. His next words made his intent clear. “For now.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and then pulled down in a frown over her clear blue eyes. Then she leaned across the booth toward him like she wanted to say something, but must have changed her mind because she fell back against the seat and shook her head instead. Her hand waved dismissively and knocked her fork to the floor. Apparently his words had flustered her. Amusement sparked in him and he leaned forward to retrieve the utensil at the same time she did. They nearly bumped heads, making her release a slight gasp. Their gazes locked, held. But before either of them could speak, a flash came from their right and nearly blinded him. Blinking hard, he turned his head and searched for the person responsible for the intrusion.
When he spotted the culprit his jaw tensed. It was the same skinny, black-haired emo twerp from that trashy tabloid The Beat that had taken to dogging him the past few weeks. Damn paparazzi. They sure knew how to ruin a moment for a guy sometimes.
He looked back at Sonny, who’d melted back into her seat and was rifling through her purse like it was the most important thing in the world. Yeah, the moment was over all right. Now she wasn’t even looking at him.
With a sigh he settled back and mentally flipped the tabloid shooter the finger. Sometimes his lifestyle could be damn inconvenient.
Chapter Four
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Sonny was way out of sorts. For now, her ass, she thought. She still couldn’t believe JP had the gall to say something like that to her. Did he actually think she would just flop on her back and croon, “Take me now, hot stuff?” over such an arrogant, utterly ridiculous statement?
Padding barefoot into the kitchen, Sonny beelined for the coffeemaker and poured a cup of the strong brew. She was tired and cranky and on edge this morning. JP’s words had played over and over in her mind all night, making good rest impossible. Between that and the unwelcome paparazzi visit, she hadn’t slept a wink. After tossing and turning endlessly, she’d finally given up and climbed out of bed before the sun rose to make coffee and shower.
It was then that she’d realized her phone was missing. That was the second phone this year she’d lost and it majorly irked her. Now she couldn’t call her best friend Janie when she needed someone to talk to. Lovely.
Through the windows in the kitchen she could see the sun just starting to peek from behind the horizon. The sky was turning a stunning deep pink. Leaning her butt against the counter, Sonny took a long sip of the bracing coffee and watched the sun rise. Most of the time she only had tea in the mornings, but she’d needed something more potent this time. Her brain was mush and there was too much to do. She needed to get it together.
It was hard, though, when every thought turned back to dinner with the cocky shortstop. The whole way home Charlie had gone on and on about how awesome JP was while he hugged the souvenir the ballplayer had bought him from the gift shop. And the whole time she’d barely listened, stuck as she was in a mild state of shock and feminine outrage.
Even now she bristled at his high-handedness. JP Trudeau didn’t get to choose what she got used to, or didn’t, and when things happened. Just because he was confident and charming and gorgeous didn’t mean she was going to do what he wanted at the drop of a hat. She’d come to terms with her singlehood a long time ago and wasn’t giving it up now that Charlie was half-grown. He still had a lot of growing up to do and she couldn’t afford any distractions. It still mattered and he still needed her one hundred percent.
Taking her eye off the ball was something she simply couldn’t do.
The way she’d carved out a life for herself and Charlie had taken so much determination and focus. Messing that up now would be like throwing away all those years and sacrifices. She’d worked too hard for that.
Their life had a predictable, steady rhythm. Nothing much came by that threw the beat off. And that’s the way she needed it. Raising a kid alone was hard. The less clutter and complications, the easier it was, and Sonny was determined to keep it that way. Charlie was only a kid once and she wasn’t going to screw it up for him. She wasn’t her mom.
Sonny tried damn hard not to be her mom.
The sun had risen higher and the sky was now vivid orange and fuchsia. The white light of morning bathed her kitchen in soft glow, warming the golden oak floors and pulling out the grain in the old cupboards.
A lot had changed in the old ranch since she’d inherited it. Most of it was simple cosmetics, but still. She’d done her best to update the brick rambler and bring it into the modern age. Overall Sonny was happy with what she’d done. Sure there was more—there always was—but for now it worked. Charlie had a roof over his head and that’s what mattered.
And she’d become the thrift store queen of Boulder County. What had started out as necessity had evolved into a darn fun hobby. Turned out that she had a knack for finding the gems of the secondhand world. Sonny’s style was definitely eclectic, with a dash of global funk. The result was an open, airy house in bold colors set to a neutral background and dotted with warm wood accents and unframed canvas prints everywhere.
And she liked it just fine. Because the truth was she was okay with where she was now. It beat the hell out of the alternatives. She and Charlie were doing okay. It may not be the most exciting life, but she loved it just the same.
The clock on the wall signaled the new hour and Sonny cringed. It was time to get the day started, and first up was feeding and milking the goats.
Sonny dumped the last of the lukewarm coffee down the drain and put the ceramic cup in the dishwasher. Vader must have finally noticed her rustling around because he showed up in the kitchen and whined at the door to be let out. Most of the time Charlie followed close behind him, bleary eyed and cheerful. It was his trademark expression in the morning. It was one of the things she loved so much about him. The kid was upbeat and always happy to experience another day.
It was a good reminder to her to be thankful of the process and not get so caught up on the finished product. One of the most surprising aspects she found about parenthood was how much she learned from her own kid. Charlie was her mirror, for sure. What she saw wasn’t always pretty. That was the other thing about parenthood. It was flat-out work. To be any good at it, stasis wasn’t okay. Sonny was always changing and growing, becoming better than she was. And it could be exhausting.
But she wouldn’t trade it for anything, because it was the best thing in the world too. And who wanted to settle for a life without growth anyway? That’d be colossally boring.
So long as that growth was limited to her and Charlie, she was good. That thought made her think back on JP again as she threw on her barn boots and went to grab the stainless steel supplies that she kept in her workspace. She stepped out into the early morning and shoved a ball cap over her sloppy bun. Sonny rarely worried about
dressing for the girls since she didn’t think they gave a rip about what she wore. They were just too happy she was showing up to empty their udders to care that she was wearing a thin cotton tank top and kitten print flannel pants tucked into her rubber boots.
Crossing over the large expanse of June grass, Sonny deeply inhaled the scent of rich earth and smiled. She didn’t know how JP put up with the constant attention. It contented her soul to be out in the morning freshness with no people crammed in next to her. Here, those few precious miles to civilization made a world of difference. Sonny could breathe and have privacy. Nobody was right there looking from behind their fence to see what she was doing.
As much as society claimed to be in the modern age, single mothers still faced a peculiar type of scrutiny. But here, five miles away, Sonny had a beautiful kind of freedom. Nobody was looking to see how she measured up. She could just be. Whatever curiosity she felt for JP was going to have to remain just that—curiosity. Because she wouldn’t trade her anonymity for anything in the world.
Sonny passed the fenced-in vegetable garden and noted with satisfaction that everything was growing well. She and Charlie had planned out this year’s crop with extra care. He was thrilled that they’d found a novel variety of yellow heirloom watermelons and couldn’t wait until the day he got to sink his teeth into a juicy bite.
Vader ran past her, his long blue-merle-and-white coat bobbing in the air. He was an average gregarious and smart Aussie shepherd. When he caught her eye, he grinned a huge doggy grin and took off toward the pasture beyond the barn. No doubt he was hoping a field mouse had taken up residence and would give him a good time.
Sonny reached the barn and shoved the creaking, buckled wooden door open. Inside her ladies waited, eager to barter their milk for a tasty treat. She heard shuffling around as she began to set up.
When she’d first started the research on goat farming, Sonny had fallen in love with Nubian goats and their long, rabbit-like ears and generous milking capabilities. The ears gave them such a sweet appearance that their juvenile pranks didn’t bug her. Giving them a designated pasture with toys and shelter kept most of the shenanigans at bay. The kids loved to play King of the Mountain on the old picnic table she’d tossed out there, and they head butted and bleated to their little hearts’ content.
One of the goats bleated for attention and Sonny recognized which one of them it was instantly. Donna was her lead goat and had a big personality. When she heard Sonny in the mornings, she made a ruckus until it was time to milk.
“Morning, Donna. You have to give me a few minutes, but I’m almost ready for ya.”
It’d been a steep learning curve, but Sonny had the milking system down now and could finish all the goats in about thirty minutes. When she was done she had around six gallons of rich milk that would soon turn into Gouda with her help. Her business, Sonnyside Farms, had been quoted as “having the tastiest goat Gouda this side of the Atlantic” in last month’s 5280 magazine. It was the Front Range’s go-to mag for the lowdown on LoDo and the surrounding areas. Their local food and business section had done a profile on her cheese and touted it as the best new thing in the growing alternative dairy world.
Lost in her thoughts, Sonny was just finishing with the cleanup after letting the goats out to pasture and didn’t hear the barn door protest its opening. She started when Charlie poked his disheveled head in and said excitedly, “Hey, Mom. Someone’s here to see you, but I’m not supposed to say who. It’s a surprise.” Then he disappeared. No doubt back to whatever early morning cartoon was on the TV.
Odd. She wasn’t expecting anybody. Brushing her palms against her flannels, Sonny took a step toward the door to see who the visitor was, when it squeaked open and JP stepped over the threshold. Stunned, her hands frozen in midair, she cringed as JP gave her a thorough once-over. In the dim light of the barn it was hard to read the expression in his eyes. But it looked like a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“That’s a real nice outfit there, Sonny.”
Oh crap! Sonny snuck a panicked look at her pink pajama pants haphazardly shoved into her rubber waders and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Why was he here? What did he want?
Ugh. Was he really there now, staring at her in her pajamas? Sonny blinked twice, halfway convinced it had to be a dream. But, nope. JP was still there. She reached up and straightened her ball cap, searching for composure.
He took a step closer, looking good in worn jeans and a grey T-shirt that hugged his body and showed off his hard, sculpted muscles. His short light brown hair was a little messy, like brushing it was too much effort so he’d given it no more than a quick finger-comb on his way out the door. And he’d skipped shaving.
The day’s growth made her forget that JP Trudeau was only twenty-six.
He looked all man, standing there in her ramshackle barn with his aviator sunglasses hooked on the front collar of his shirt and his eyes full of shadow and mystery. The air surrounding them seemed to spark to life, the charged vibration putting her on feminine alert. The whole scenario was so unexpected that the only thing she could do was react.
She was alone with a strong, agile, athletic man who dripped sex appeal, who made her knees go soft against all judgment with that crooked, all-knowing grin of his. He had it on her now and she could feel her legs turning to Jell-O. Awesome.
Sonny found her voice. “What are you doing here?” Extremely off balance at his sudden presence, she took a step forward and promptly tripped over a bucket, spilling fresh milk everywhere. Pitching off center, she flung her arms out in front of her, going down so fast she barely had time to register the fall. The ball cap she wore dislodged and slipped down, covering her eyes.
Bracing for impact, Sonny was surprised when a pair of hard, large hands grabbed her by the waist and righted her. Holding still, she tried to regain her bearings. Her whole body became acutely aware of the man holding her in his strong arms. They cradled her gently.
The warmth of his breath fanned across her neck, giving her goosebumps. “Are you all right?”
Her vision was still compromised by the ball cap. Forced to look down, Sonny’s eyes went wide when she realized she was staring directly at his package. The bulge was anything but humble. Dear God. Try as she might, she couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was like standing in front of Michelangelo’s David and trying not to take a peek at his goods. It just wasn’t happening. Problem was, once you got started, it was nearly impossible to stop.
It was hypnotic.
JP shifted and the brim of her hat bumped his chest. Her eyes still glued to the fly of his jeans, Sonny swallowed hard as she felt him begin to move, walking her backward until she came up against a wall. Her heart slammed to life and thoughts scattered like ashes when she felt a hard hand slide slowly up her side. When it reached her face, long fingers briefly caressed her chin before tenderly putting pressure on it, forcing her to look up. His other hand gently removed her ball cap and her hair spilled free from its confines, tumbling over her shoulders.
Sonny braced and reluctantly made eye contact. Heat flooded her cheeks at what she saw and self-preservation kicked in. She pushed back and broke contact, pure female awareness making her scared.
She knew that look and rejected it. “I’m not interested, Trudeau.”
JP REACHED OUT an arm to snag her, but she slipped just out of reach—for the moment. Did she really think she could get away from him?
There was a reason he played shortstop in the Major Leagues. He was damn fast. And now that he’d decided to make Sonny his woman she was about to find out just how quick he could be. All night he’d tossed and turned for her, his curiosity rampant. When he’d finally rolled out of bed, he’d had one clear goal: to see Sonny. Nothing else had existed outside that.
Her leaving her cell phone at the restaurant last night had been the perfect excuse. All he’d had to do was an Internet search for her business to get her address. And now here he was,
unexpectedly very up close and personal with her. So close he could smell the scent of her shampoo, and it was doing funny things to him. Things like making him want to bury his nose in her hair and inhale.
No way was he going to miss this golden opportunity.
With a devil’s grin, he moved and had her back against the aging barn wall before she’d finished gasping. “Look me in the eyes right now and tell me I don’t affect you, that you’re not interested.” He traced a lazy path down the side of her neck with his fingertips and felt her shiver. “Because I don’t believe that line for an instant, sunshine.”
Close enough to feel the heat she was throwing from her deliciously curved body, JP laughed softly when she tried to sidestep and squeeze free. Her shyness was so damn cute. He raised an arm and blocked her in, his palm flush against the rough, splintering wood. Leaning in close, he grinned when she blushed and her gaze flickered to his lips. Her mouth opened on a soft rush of breath and for a suspended moment something sparked and held between them.
But then Sonny shook back her rose-gold curls and tipped her chin with defiance. “Believe what you want, JP. I don’t have to prove anything to you.” Her denim-blue eyes flashed with emotion. “This might come as a surprise, but I’m not interested in playing with a celebrity like you. I have a business to run and a son to raise. I don’t need the headache.”
There was an underlying nervousness to her tone that didn’t quite jive with the tough-as-nails attitude she was trying to project. Either she was scared or he affected her more than she wanted to admit. She didn’t look scared.
JP dropped his gaze to her mouth, wanting to kiss those juicy lips bad, and felt her body brush against his. He could feel her pulse, fast and frantic, under his fingertips.
Playing the Field: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel Page 4