by Toni Blake
He looked down at her over his clipboard, completely unfazed. “Oh? What’s that?”
As she met those dark bedroom eyes, his face illuminated in the glow of the flashlight, she struggled not to let them affect her. “You’re trying to steal her orchard and I won’t allow it.”
“No, Farris—you’ve got it wrong, as usual. I’m trying to buy her orchard, fair and square. And if she decides to sell it to me, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Oh yeah? Well…“Maybe I’ll take it over myself,” she boasted. She didn’t mean it, of course, but it was something to say.
And at this, he cracked up. Mike Romo. Who’d barely even smiled the entire time she’d known him. He leaned his head back, laughing out loud, looking completely overcome with the hilarity of it all. “That’s a good one, Farris. You tell Edna that one? I bet it’d give her a good laugh, too.”
She blinked, fuming. “What’s so funny about it?”
He gave his head a short, definite shake. “You’re not cut out for farm work. And I’m surprised you’re here in Destiny at all, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you.”
She bit her lip. Despite the blatant insult, something in his last words made her feel a bit warm. “Like the look you took at the Dew Drop Inn the other night? Because from what I saw, you couldn’t take your eyes off me, Romeo.”
He shrugged, straightforward as ever. “Never said the package wasn’t nice. But what’s inside it isn’t somebody who could run an orchard. And stop calling me Romeo, Farris.”
“Well, guess what—you’re right. I don’t want to run Edna’s orchard. I’m too busy with my own career, thank you very much.”
“Race car driver?” he shot back. Oh boy, he was suddenly Mr. Funny tonight.
“I’m an executive account director at a prestigious ad agency,” she announced, purposely sounding superior and hoping he was impressed, whether or not he let it show. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let you wheedle her out of what she’s worked to build her whole life, so I suggest you leave her alone.”
“Or what?”
“Or you’ll have the whole Farris clan to deal with.”
“I’m shaking in my shoes,” he said dryly. “And you keep tossing around words like steal and wheedle, but we suspect Edna is the one who stole that land from my grandfather back in the fifties. So the way I see it, I’m only getting back what was supposed to be mine to begin with—and, frankly, I’m being pretty damn nice about it.”
He was leaning down now, closer, and she was noticing his mouth…his skin…his dark eyelashes, for heaven’s sake. And she was thinking again about kissing him. It was that darn rugged smell of his, damn it.
“Do you know the story—what happened?” she asked, but her voice came out softer than intended. “Between Edna and your grandfather?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “He never would talk about it. But I know he felt cheated. And he went to his grave wishing he could have left that farm to my dad.”
“Well, I don’t know the story, either,” she said, sounding stronger to herself now, “but it’s the Farris Family Apple Orchard, and I’ll be damned if the name Romo goes up on that sign.”
His only reply? To tear off the ticket and pass it to her through the window.
As she took it, their hands brushed. And—dear God—she felt it everywhere. Like…some sort of mini-orgasm or something! She couldn’t help peering up at him as she drew in her breath.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she lied. But his eyes said he knew. And she figured hers were pretty much saying it all, too. I just tingled wildly between my legs over our hands touching. God, this was horrible.
So she yanked her eyes from his and glanced down at his dark, jagged writing. And it actually managed to take her mind off her physical reaction. “Holy crap—another hundred and fifty?”
“Twenty over, Farris.”
“I’m surprised you’re not threatening to take me to jail again.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
As usual, she rolled her eyes—a gesture that was beginning to feel overdone with him, but it was all she had. “You’re only doing this because I’m a Farris.”
“No, I’m doing this because you’re a reckless driver. The fact that you’re a Farris is just a perk.”
She let out a belligerent sigh—still out of punchy comebacks—and said, “Am I free to go, Officer?”
“As long as you quit speeding on my roads.”
“Consider me motivated, Romeo. Whatever it takes to quit running into you.”
As Rachel drove away, she couldn’t deny the fact that her palms were sweaty. And her heart still beat too hard. And it had nothing to do with being pulled over.
She really disliked him. She disliked everything he stood for: thinking that badge gave him the right to bully people, being angry and arrogant all the time, and now trying to cajole Edna out of the orchard. Plus—again—he was a Romo.
But none of that, it seemed, was quite enough to keep her from wanting to rip his clothes off.
“Not that that will ever happen. Ever,” she told herself.
Even if he did think her “package” was nice.
Oh God, since when was she attracted to men who called her a “package”?
She’d known from the start that coming back to Destiny was a bad idea, and with each passing day she was beginning to fear it was an even worse one than she’d realized.
“How on earth,” Rachel asked across Tessa’s kitchen table, nibbling on one of Amy’s caramel brownies, “did I not know there was an apple festival?”
“Don’t ask me,” Amy said. “It’s a Destiny tradition now—everyone loves it.”
“And it’s in October! I have to stay ’til October!” When she was standing in the orchard with Edna, Chicago seemed a world away and it was easier than expected to shove her worries aside—but now she felt a little panicky. “I debated phoning Chase and telling him, but I decided it’s better not to call the length of my absence to anyone’s attention.”
“Like they won’t notice?” Tessa asked, forking a bite of apple pie into her mouth.
And she made a darn good point. But…“Who knows—maybe they won’t. Maybe getting the Natural Girl account will make it seem…like I’m working from afar.” Or—maybe the new client wouldn’t count for as much as she hoped. Maybe it was dumb to stay just because Edna was lonely.
“Oh, and get this,” she said then. She’d regaled them with the tale of tonight’s ticket already, but…“Mike Romo wants to buy the orchard from Edna!”
Both girls’ eyes flew wide, and it pleased her to see they were just as surprised as she was.
“Mike Romo, running an orchard?” Tessa balked. “He doesn’t have the temperament for something so…calm.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Rachel said with an emphatic nod.
“The orchard was in his family once, though, you know,” Amy countered.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rachel replied, swiping a dismissive hand down through the air. “But that’s ancient history.” And she almost started to tell them what she’d found out about Edna having a fling or something with Mike Romo’s grandfather—but then she held her tongue, because maybe it was a private story. After all, no one in either family seemed to know the details, and Edna had said she didn’t talk about it often. So, as much as Rachel wanted to share it with her friends, she kept it to herself.
In fact, it seemed like a good time to change the subject. There was too much Romo talk lately anyway. And if it kept up, she might admit that he got her all hot and bothered. And if she said it out loud, that would make it feel a lot more real, and unavoidable. “So, what’s going on in your lives, girls? Ever since I got here, all we’ve talked about is me. Do either of you have anything fun going on?”
Tessa shook her head. “No big plans in my immediate future other than the bookstore and some yardwork. And I might—out of desperation—put an ad in the Crestvie
w Tribune.” Tessa was trying to get her interior design business off the ground, working from home, but she’d had no customers yet—there just weren’t many people willing to pay someone to decorate their houses in a small town like Destiny.
It broke Rachel’s heart that her friend had been forced to give up a budding career in Cincinnati after developing a chronic but frustratingly undiagnosed digestive condition, suffering flare-ups too often to keep her job. And Tessa’s younger brother was on his second tour in Afghanistan, which kept her under even more stress. Growing up, Tessa had always been Rachel’s comrade-in-arms in wanting to leave Destiny, so she couldn’t imagine all Tessa had endured before making the decision to return. Now, she tried her best to smile. “You’ll get some business once word gets out.”
They commiserated on Tessa’s career woes a few minutes more, all scarfing down some of the pumpkin bread Tessa had made, until Amy said, “Well, like I told you the other night, my only extra plans this week are working the concession stand with Logan at the donkey ball game at the high school on Wednesday.”
Oh Lord. Rachel hadn’t caught the “donkey” detail when they’d discussed this at the Dew Drop Inn. “People here still play donkey ball? Tell me it’s not true,” she pleaded, recalling the odd tradition from her youth: coaches, teachers, and other well-known people in the community played a game of basketball—while riding donkeys. Just one more reason why Destiny wasn’t her personal cup of tea.
“Of course it’s true. There’s a game every fall to benefit the athletics program.”
“And you have to do this why?” Rachel asked. She could only imagine the smells involved—even from outside the gym at the concession stand.
“Well, the fire department volunteered to take tickets and run concessions, and they ended up short a few people, so Logan asked me to help.”
Rachel nodded. She could relate to being called on for help these days—although she thought Amy sounded far too delighted about working in the vicinity of a herd of donkeys. “Doesn’t the gym floor get messed up? From hooves and…you know, droppings?”
“Nice topic while we’re eating, Rach,” Tessa scolded, reaching for a brownie.
“Well, I’m not the one who brought up donkeys and I always wondered about this. I got yelled at for walking on the gym floor in heels, but ten donkeys can go trotting around on it all night?”
Amy just laughed. “They put down a protective covering.”
“Okay, no more donkey talk,” Tessa insisted, and Rachel agreed.
“Tell us more about your boss,” Amy suggested, cutting a slice of Edna’s pie. “I mean, you never mentioned before about the flirtation, in all these years.”
Much better topic, Rachel thought cheerfully, happy to launch into it. “Well, it seemed completely unfeasible. But yeah, he’s extremely handsome, wears Armani, drives a Jag, and is to die for in every way.”
And he was, so she kept right on talking about Chase for a long while—even if, for some insane reason, she kept seeing Mike Romo’s belligerent face in her mind the whole time.
Rachel had come in from picking apples with sore shoulders and sore thighs, needing a hot shower—but at Edna’s, she had to settle for a hot bath in the old clawfoot tub. It was doing the trick, though—the steaming soak eased some of her aches, and she was starting to feel like her old self again.
As she drained the tub a few minutes later and slipped into a plush, hot pink robe, she heard the phone ring, just before Edna’s voice echoed through the bathroom door. “For you, darlin’. It’s Amy.”
Rachel opened the door to take the old corded receiver. “Hey,” she said easily.
But Amy sounded stressed. “I need a huge favor.”
Uh-oh. “What?”
“Can you fill in for me at the concession stand tonight? At the donkey ball game?”
Oh brother, that was tonight? And she was being asked to go there? “Why?”
“I hate to ask, Rachel, but it’s book club night.”
Book club and donkey ball, all on the same Wednesday night—how would the people of Destiny choose? But she kept that thought to herself. “What about Tessa? I thought she was hosting the book club in your place.”
“That’s just it,” Amy said. “She’s not feeling well. I think it’s been coming on for days and finally hit her hard.”
And Rachel’s heart dropped. Despite all she knew about Tessa’s condition, she’d never been around during a flare-up, and she suddenly felt guilty for always being so far away when her friend was in need. “How bad is she? Should one of us go see her?”
“No. She doesn’t like company when she’s sick—and if she needs anyone, she calls her mom. Anyway, can you work the concession stand for me? You hung out with Logan the other night—he’s a nice guy, and he’ll really appreciate the help.”
Hell. How could she say no? Tessa was sick, for God’s sake. And her friends never asked her for anything. “Of course. I’ll be there.” Donkeys be damned. “What time?”
Rachel dressed quickly in dark jeans, a fitted white long-sleeved blouse, and her red Gucci peek-toe pumps. And after a quick chicken salad sandwich, courtesy of Edna, she was out the door and on her way to a place she’d never expected to see again: Destiny High School.
She actually had a lot of good memories there—she’d been a cheerleader, active in clubs, and she’d made good grades. But she’d also often been bored, already longing for a life someplace bigger and busier, and that had frequently led her into trouble, too. Nothing serious—just some class cutting, a bit of sneaking around, and she’d once been caught making out with Russell Jamison in the janitor’s closet.
Turning out onto the highway that led into town, she accelerated—yet then she slowed down. In case Officer Romeo was lurking somewhere. Other than her brain, that is. She hadn’t seen him since that last ticket he’d bestowed on her, but she gave a little shiver, unable to believe how often the guy penetrated her thoughts.
Well, she was about to spend the evening with the hot cop’s best friend, so she hoped Romo’s name wouldn’t come up. She just wanted to do her duty behind the counter, try not to inhale too much eau de donkey, then head home and get a decent night’s sleep. To her surprise, she was slowly getting a little better at apple picking, and she and Edna had been up and out at the Gala trees just after sunrise the last few days. Soon all the Galas would be harvested and they’d move on to the ripening Honeycrisps and McIntoshes.
Parking in front of her old school felt downright weird, and the place seemed much smaller than she remembered. It was still light out, so she kept her head low while trudging toward the gym entrance, hoping no one recognized her. Despite herself, she did have fond memories of many people in Destiny, but she just wasn’t in the mood for reminiscing. She’d been on edge ever since getting to town—and between her career worries, the extended stay, and Mike Romo, her stress level had gone from bad to worse. She found a sense of calm in working with Edna up in the trees—but it seemed that whenever she was anywhere else, all she could do was fret and worry. So in that way, the long days in the orchard felt almost pleasant at times.
Reaching the line of doors stretching across the gym’s lobby, she explained to a guy in a black-and-yellow DFD T-shirt that she was here to work concessions and he ushered her in.
She remembered the snack stand from her years here—a small room with painted cinder block walls like the rest of the school, it was situated just outside the gym, with a large window on one side that opened into the lobby. A metal partition was pulled down and shut with padlocks when the stand wasn’t in use.
Although the partition was already up and the lights on inside, she didn’t see anyone through the window as she approached and figured she must have beat Logan here. Walking around to the open door, she stepped inside and hung her red pashmina on a hook behind it. Then rounded a cinder block corner—to see Mike Romo standing in front of her.
She reacted the same as if she’d just discovered some
grotesquely spoiled food in her refrigerator—she drew in her breath, crinkled her nose, and looked on him with pure horror. When their eyes met, she uttered the only word that came to mind. “Shit.” Then, “You have got to be kidding me.”
He appeared to be just as stunned and surly. “Is this some bad joke?”
“Amy couldn’t come,” she said curtly.
He replied in an equally irritated tone. “Neither could Logan.”
After which Rachel simply stood there for a moment, her mouth still gaping. Finally, she gave her head a short shake, concluding, “I don’t think I can do this—put up with you for two or three hours, or however long people plan to ride around on donkeys in there.” She pointed over her shoulder. The idea of grabbing her pashmina and getting the hell out of there was all too tempting.
“Nice attitude, Farris,” Romo snapped. “Because, believe me, I don’t want to work with you, either, but I’m not the kind of guy to leave a friend hanging.”
“Neither am I,” she bit off through clenched teeth. “I was leaving you hanging.”
“Sounds like something a Farris would do.”
Oooh, low blow.
And she really couldn’t walk out after that. She’d look like a bad person and prove him right.
So she took a deep breath and told herself to act like an adult here. “Fine, Romeo, I’ll stay if you want me so much. And don’t think I don’t get that you’re trying to use reverse psychology on me. I’ll just be damned before I give you one more bad thing to say about a Farris.”
“I wish to hell you’d quit calling me Romeo,” he grumbled.
“Good to know—Romeo. I wish to hell you’d quit giving me tickets, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?” Just as the Stones had reminded her on her way into town. And boy, was it ever turning out to be true.
At that moment, a woman with wildly out-of-date big hair came dashing into the concession stand wearing a red-and-white Destiny Bulldogs sweatshirt. “Hi, I’m Madge—do you two have everything you need?” Before either of them could utter a word, she answered her own question by looking around, pointing, and counting things off out loud. “Change drawer, candy bars, snack chips, drink cups—and if any of the fountain drink canisters run out, just come and find me at the athletic boosters table in the gym. Looks like you’re all set.”