by Susan Crosby
He jumped down from the truck, pulling the cardboard box across the seat, then presenting it to Annie. The packages were labeled. Her eyes lit up.
“Do you know how to barbecue?” she asked.
“Are ranchers stubborn?” he asked rhetorically.
“We will feast tonight,” she said, then hesitated. “You’re working mostly for room and board. You shouldn’t be spending your money on food for us.”
“I traded a little work for it.” It was a small lie, one to make her accept the gift. And damn, but he wanted a steak for dinner.
“Have you eaten lunch?” she asked.
His stomach would have rejected anything until now. “No. But I can throw together some PB and J. I don’t need much.”
He stashed the meat in the refrigerator then made himself at home in her kitchen, the first time she hadn’t fixed his meal. He paid attention to the room now, having his mother’s kitchen and even his own to compare it with. She didn’t own a dishwasher, and no appliance was newer than twenty years. Every surface was spotless, but wear and tear showed in chips in the Formica countertop and cabinets that hadn’t seen fresh paint in a long time. She’d made bright yellow curtains, however, and a matching apron that hung from a hook, providing a splash of color.
And she loved it. Wanted to stay.
“Mitch! Mitch! Come quick!” Austin hollered.
He raced out of the house, looked around frantically.
“Over here. Mom’s stuck.”
Visions of Annie buried under timber filled his head, then he rounded the corner behind the high tunnel and saw Annie looking embarrassed and chagrined, and definitely stuck—in a mud hole.
“What did you do?” he asked, trying not to laugh, while Austin had lost that ability already. He was laughing his head off.
She lifted her chin. “I left the hose running in the pile of new dirt—since before you left, I might add. The dirt wasn’t packed, and I didn’t think about that. I went to walk over it to turn off the hose and it grabbed me like quicksand. Would you quit laughing and help get me out of here?”
“Yes, to the latter, but no to the former.” He chuckled as he went behind her and hooked his forearms under her and pulled. There was no way around it—his arms pressed against her breasts. It was the only way he could get enough leverage to loosen her.
“Austin, start scraping the mud from her legs with your hands. See if you can dig a trench to her feet.”
After a minute a sucking sound filled the air and her legs popped free, although her shoes were left behind.
“Mom!” Austin said in mock horror. “Say excuse me.”
Annie threw a handful of mud at him. He threw some back. Pretty soon they were all slinging mud at each other, some landing in clumps on Bo as well, who happily played along.
Finally they all collapsed, panting hard.
Annie’s chest heaved. Mitch pretended to block the sun with his hand so that he could get an eyeful without Austin noticing.
“Welcome home,” Annie said pertly.
There it was. She used the word home, too. He decided not to make a big deal of it. “Thanks. What do you say we take Austin and go for a swim?”
“Where?”
“A place I used to go as a kid.”
She looked around. “I don’t know. There’s so much to do.”
“The next two days will be busy harvesting for the farmer’s market, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s play a little today. Pay it forward.” He saw more indecision in her pretty green eyes. “I’ve decided to stay around a little longer, Annie. If you want me to, that is.”
“A man who brings his own steak? Yeah, I think I’ll keep you.”
Her tone was light, but she couldn’t hide her relief.
“Then let’s go swimming.” More than anything, he wanted to see the curvy Ms. Annie Barnard in a bathing suit.
Chapter Nine
“Is that the same rope you used to swing from, Mitch?” Austin asked as he pulled off his sneakers and T-shirt.
“I hope not or it’d be pretty rotten by now.” He undressed to his bathing suit, too. “Let me test it first.”
Annie took off her shorts, but left her shirt on, as well as her old sneakers, which she intended to keep on, no matter what. She didn’t want to step on anything, whether animal, vegetable or mineral.
Mitch was a sight in his trunks. Muscular but not overdone. Just enough dark body hair to make her fingers twitch. And the patience of a saint as he instructed Austin on how to use the rope, when to let go and where to swim from there.
Annie didn’t like rivers or cold water. She was also nervous about wearing just a bathing suit in front of Mitch. The only suit she owned was a bikini from before she’d given birth. Before her breasts had come into full bloom, as her mother had called it. Annie had been a little appalled by the sight when she glanced in the mirror. She wasn’t falling out of the top, but she filled it to the brim.
The problem was, she wanted Mitch to notice, even though it was foolish to do so. Everything about him being there was unreal enough. She’d almost told him she needed to know his last name now that he was going to be around longer, but the kind of otherworldliness of the situation, which she’d been enjoying, stopped her. If she knew his name, everything would become real. She wasn’t ready for real.
Mitch yelled like Tarzan as he swung out over the water and dropped, then came up sputtering. “Warm as a hot spring,” he said, grinning.
Austin grabbed the rope and followed suit, letting go when Mitch yelled at him to drop.
“Oh, yeah, a hot spring!” Austin shouted when he came to the surface.
“Your lips are already blue,” Annie said, settling down on a rock to watch them, her feet dangling in the water. She didn’t let them see her react to the cold water.
“It’s not that cold, Mom. You get used to it in a hurry.”
“Chicken,” Mitch said, taunting her, obviously knowing her ego wouldn’t allow her to be perceived by her son as being afraid of anything.
“In a while. I just want to bask in the warmth for now.” She closed her eyes and leaned back on her hands, her face to the sun, trying to remember the last time they’d done something unrelated to survival. But now that there was an extra person to help, they could plan some fun things to do.
Except Mitch wouldn’t want to be in public.
When had her life gotten so complicated?
Well, she knew when. The better question was why? Fate, as Mitch believed? A grand design? To succeed where she might not have otherwise? Or to give up gracefully when—if—the time came rather than cause irreparable damage to her and her son? Austin should learn there’s a time to cut your losses and still hold your head high.
“Come on, Mom,” Austin yelled. “You’re missing all the fun.”
She glanced at Mitch, who wisely didn’t say anything. She couldn’t leave her shirt on because she would have to drive home in wet clothes, so she peeled it over her head and tossed it up the slope to where the rest of their clothes were piled.
“Use the rope,” Austin said. “Get it over with at once.”
“No, thank you.” She wasn’t a strong swimmer. Easing in would work just fine for her.
She felt the intensity of Mitch’s gaze, even as he continued to play with Austin in some kind of cat-and-mouse chase. Then they took turns on the rope, seeing how far into the pool they could land. Inch by inch, Annie entered the cold stream that was in perpetual motion. She was about to finally just duck under and get it over with when she slipped on a slimy rock and tumbled in.
Competent hands grabbed her within seconds, but she’d already gone into full panic mode.
“I’ve got you,” Mitch said calmly. “Just rel
ax. You’re safe.”
She clung to him, her arms locked around his neck. His hands settled at her waist as their bodies pressed together, gliding slickly.
“I’m going to walk you to the bank, okay,” he said, bending close, adding, “Is it in really poor taste right now to say thank you for wearing that particular bikini?”
She laughed, which was what she was sure he’d intended to happen.
“I only have this one.”
“You fill it out nicely.”
Her panic left as quickly as it’d come, replaced with awareness of him, especially when he cupped her rear with his hand as he gave her boost out of the water—something she didn’t need but was glad he’d done.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Austin had come up beside them.
“I’m fine. It was silly. And, see, that’s why your dad and I insisted on swimming lessons for you. I never had them. Keep playing.” She wanted Mitch to keep his hands on her and didn’t think Austin would care, as if Mitch was comforting her, getting her settled again.
He had her sit on the rock again, warm from the sun, and grabbed a towel to wrap around her, pulled her ponytail outside the fabric, then rubbed her back through it.
“Good?” he asked.
She didn’t know how to answer that. Yes, his hands felt good on her, but she had a feeling he was trying to make sure she’d recovered. “Your hands are wonderful,” she said, then got nervous she’d said the wrong thing when he paused. “You warmed me up fast.”
A long pause ensued. Finally he gave her a look so hot, so direct and so inviting, she couldn’t speak. He stood and moved down the banking, keeping his back to Austin. Mitch’s wet swim trunks didn’t hide anything from her interested eyes. She raised her gaze slowly. When she reached his face, he fell backward into the stream.
Annie blew out a long, shaky breath. She wanted him. She couldn’t have him. Shouldn’t, either, considering how little she knew about him. Like where had he gotten the beef? Where had he exchanged work for it, and why wouldn’t he tell her?
She shouldn’t trust him, and yet she did.
They stayed until Austin couldn’t stop shivering. Even then he wanted to keep playing. He was sent to take a hot bath when they got home, while Mitch and Annie made dinner—T-bones, baked potatoes and a fresh green salad.
“That was the best steak I’ve ever had,” Annie said after dinner, not touching her stomach, afraid it would burst.
“You know Mitch brought a whole box full of it, Mom. You didn’t have to eat the whole thing at one time.”
“Yes, I did. No regrets.” She thought Mitch looked happy, too.
“I’m going to go work off dinner,” he said after the dishes were done.
“Doing what?”
“Fill the raised beds with some aged potting soil so that you can plant tomorrow.” He left without waiting for her response, apparently wanting to get away from her.
Because she tempted him too much? Because he was embarrassed about what had happened and what they’d said at the stream?
He was still outdoors when Austin went to bed and Annie showered. She didn’t want to go to bed wondering where things stood with them.
She wrapped her robe over her summer pajamas, tightened the sash and put on her slippers. From a distance she could hear him mumbling in the high tunnel, but she only caught an occasional word: fate, Granddad, self-control.
When she reached him she laid a hand on his back. He spun toward her and raised his shovel, which he instantly dropped then pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a need that matched her own.
“You smell good,” he said against her mouth, then kissed her deeper. “You taste hot and sexy.” He pulled her robe aside and curved his hands over her breasts, rubbing the fabric back and forth, abrading her taut flesh, driving her wild. “You feel like my dreams.”
He licked at her lips as his thumbs brushed her nipples, then he deepened the kiss with his searching tongue, throaty sounds coming from him. She’d never felt so desired. She slipped her hands under his shirt, flattened them against his skin, feeling his muscles flex as she let her fingertips investigate the planes and angles of his body, the bone structure beneath, the flat belly. He was so hard, where she was so soft.
He was about to lift her pajama top when a sound intruded. Not human, she didn’t think, and not a threat, but it brought awareness of standing in the greenhouse. The lights were on in the fading daylight. Anyone outside it would see them, not in detail, but enough to know they were kissing and touching.
As much as she hated to, she backed away, saying nothing, not knowing what to say, and returned to the house. They’d hit a fork in the road of their relationship. For now, they had no options. But when Austin went to see his dad? What then? It was only two weeks from now.
Two whole weeks of tension. And then what?
Maybe he’d even be gone by then and there would be no dilemma.
Annie climbed into bed. She stayed awake until Mitch finally came in and showered. She heard him stop by her bedroom, silently urged him to come inside, then his soft footfalls as he walked away, the click of his bedroom door punctuating the moment.
Case closed. Period. No further discussion or action required.
* * *
Mitch was up earlier than usual the next day, having tossed and turned. He got the coffee started then leaned against the counter. He’d lost control last night, and now there was no turning back.
How would she act this morning? Aloof? Overly friendly? Possessive? Why had she left without a word?
If she hadn’t left he might have hauled her off to his truck and made love to her. He kept a couple of blankets in the backseat. No one would’ve caught them. They could’ve satisfied their curiosity about each other and been done with it. Now it was only going to build until he either would have to leave or they had to sleep together. He didn’t see any other options.
“Good morning,” she said from behind him in her usual cheery morning voice. “How’d you sleep?”
She asked him that every day, but today felt different.
“I tossed a lot,” he said, facing her. She was already dressed, which was unusual. Generally she wore her robe the first half hour, through the first cup of coffee. “How about you?”
“The same.” She remained cheerful. “So, today we’ll pick flowers, make bouquets and store them in buckets of water. I’d also like to get the lettuces planted in the first few raised boxes.”
He tried to figure her out. Were they just going forward as if nothing had happened?
Well, okay. He would take her lead and go with it. It made sense, anyway. He’d intended to make his grandfather proud by keeping complete control of himself, having sat through many lectures on the subject of respecting women. He hadn’t kept complete control, but she’d given him a second chance now by pretending it had never happened.
“You’re the boss,” he said, creating an even bigger space between them, also a good thing, he figured. “How much do you take to market?”
“Twenty mixed bouquets and ten of single varieties. A restaurant owner bought several of those last week. She prefers her tables have only one kind of bloom. She said it adds to the level of sophistication. That was great information to know. She also told me she’d be back this week. It’s regulars like that who’ll matter most in the long run.”
“Which produce will you take?”
“The strawberries that won’t last until the weekend U-pick. Pickling cukes, lettuce, potatoes. It’ll be more than I figure I can sell because I trade with other growers. My lettuce will be a big draw.”
“When does the market stop operating for the year?”
“Mid-October. But I’m going to have the pumpkin patch. And I’ll sell fall flowers at the same time. Maybe pies, too.”
He couldn’t imagine her doing more than breaking even on her expenses.
She came close to him and set her hand on his arm for a moment. “I know what you’re thinking. But I can’t give up yet.”
“I wasn’t thinking that. I was considering what else would sell over the winter.”
“As soon as all the harvest is done, I’m going to start calling on stores and restaurants. I have to have enough product to offer a certain amount every week. If I can get that going, I can make a living.” She walked past him. “However, I can’t make it by selling only locally. I have to expand, even if it means driving to San Francisco once a week.”
“You’ve done your research.”
“And I’m being realistic.”
He could see that. Every day he admired her more.
“I’m going to get started clipping flowers,” she said. “They’re best early in the day.”
“What can I do?”
“There are a bunch of five-gallon buckets in the barn. If you could fill them about one-third with water and bring them out to the garden, that would be great.”
They worked until Austin joined them, stopped for breakfast, then finished up by noon. Mitch could cut flowers, strip leaves and pluck off wilted petals, but he couldn’t arrange them artfully.
“Can we go swimming again?” Austin asked during lunch.
“Not today,” Annie said. She’d put a pot of chili on the stove early that morning, adding hamburger to it for the first time in ages, giving the dish a different taste.
“You know, Mom, Sunday’s supposed to be a day of rest.”
Mitch laughed, realized Annie didn’t think it was funny and dug into his chili with more gusto than previously.
“Yes, Austin, I’ve heard that. Unfortunately, it isn’t always possible.”
“But we’re done working for today.”
“We’re done with the flowers. We need to get the plantings in the high tunnel done.”
“It’s not fair. None of my friends have to work all the time.” He shoved away from the table and ran down the hall, not quite slamming his bedroom door.