by Cathryn Fox
“If they weren’t your family, what were you doing down there with them, putting yourself in danger like that?” He dips his head, and dammit, being the sole focus of this guy’s attention has the ability to warm my blood in ways the scratchy blanket can’t.
“I was trying to lure him away from the edge. I was worried he was going to fall in with his grandkids.”
Jay’s face softens as he gives a slow shake of his head. “Dumbass.”
I instantly go on the defense. How freaking rude. What happened to the sweet guy who swam by my side, and is currently trying to warm me?
“I am not a dumbass,” I say and flinch away as I glare at him.
“Wait, I wasn’t calling…” His hands fall to his sides, and he angles his head, his eyes narrowing in on me. “Going down there to help that family was courageous, Alyson. I would never call you a dumbass for trying to help someone.” He rakes his wet hair back and shakes his head. “And you accuse me of jumping to conclusions.”
Okay, it’s true. I instantly assumed he was talking about me. No one in my world thinks I’m capable of doing anything right. Of course, I haven’t given them a reason to think otherwise. I can’t help that I don’t know what I want in life yet.
“Forget it,” I say and try to finger-comb the knots in my mess of salty hair.
“I was just trying to rescue you.”
My mood sours even more. Honestly, I’m tired of being rescued and so damn tired of my father telling me I’m a quitter. Sure, I quit my first job out of college, but the editor of that magazine was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. And yes, I quit the next one, but honestly, working in politics wasn’t my thing. Especially not for an “honest, decent candidate” who was cheating on his wife with his personal assistant. And the retail management position? I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the patience for prima donna customers who are terrible to the staff. The customer is not “always right.”
I’m in Nova Scotia to prove to him and the rest of my family and to myself that I’ve got staying power. That I can stick to something for at least thirty days. The orchard I inherited from my long-lost uncle is the perfect way to show I can do something for at least a month. How hard can it be anyway? I mean, I’m a fast thinker, not to mention college educated. Yeah, okay, an English Lit degree hasn’t really prepared me for farm work, but Google is always at my fingertips.
My father thinks I’ll be home in less than thirty days. I bet top dollar otherwise, telling him he could keep the trust fund left to me by Granddad if I bail before the month is over. He’s been holding it as ransom until he’s sure I won’t blow through it. This is the last chance to prove myself worthy—the last chance to prove I can do something. If I don’t stick with it, goodbye money.
“I wouldn’t have needed rescuing if you hadn’t knocked me in in the first place,” I shoot back, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel like crap. It’s not this guy’s fault my life sucks and no one believes in me. Heck, I don’t even believe in myself, which is why I’m taking over a farm I have no idea how to run. Honestly, I’m in so deep, I’m going to need a compass to find my way out.
His jaw drops open. “You think I knocked you in?”
“Not on purpose,” I say to soften my harsh retort. “You reached out and touched my elbow. It startled me.”
“I was just trying to—”
The captain laughs, and we both turn to him. “What?” we ask simultaneously.
“You two argue like an old married couple.”
“We’re not a couple,” Jay and I say at the same time.
“Could have fooled me,” the crusty fisherman adds.
“We don’t even know each other,” I say.
Jay nods in agreement. “Probably never set eyes on each other again.”
“A lesson or a blessing.” A wide grin splits the captain’s weathered lips as he turns from us and spins the big steering wheel, or whatever it’s called on a fishing boat, proceeding to dock beside a long wooden deck.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“People come into your life for a reason,” he explains. “It’s either a lesson or blessing.”
Well, look at that. We’ve been rescued by a captain and a philosopher. This day is getting better and better. Instead of commenting, I ask, “What would you like me to do about your blanket?” Good God, I hope I don’t have to run to my car in my wet underwear.
“Keep it, and keep off the black rocks,” he says with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky we spotted you.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate the help and the blanket,” I say and gather my wet clothes. He helps me off the boat, and I search for the parking lot.
Jay follows me off, and once we’re on stable ground, he turns to me. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s okay. I think I can see it from here,” I say, and he hesitates a moment.
He brushes a bead of water from his forehead and scrubs the wispy hairs on his chin. “So uh, be careful on the rocks. I might not be around to rescue you next time.”
“You mean you won’t be around to push me in,” I counter.
He grins and is about to turn away, but I stop him.
“Jay,” I say and his head dips. His eyes meet mine, and wow, they push back the rest of the cold in my bones, and I nearly liquify. A burst of heat arcs between us, and I get the sense that he feels it every bit as much as I do. Attraction at first sight. I guess it really is a thing.
“Yeah.”
“It’s been a really rough day. Actually, it’s been a really rough week, and I want to thank you for staying with me in the water. You could have easily made it to that boat faster.”
“It’s what anyone from around these parts would do.” His smile is genuine, and I sense he’s a nice guy. I could use one or two of those in my life. “But I guess you’re not from around here.”
“Far from it.”
“Then let me welcome you to Nova Scotia.” He glances past my shoulder to the water, and his own blanket parts to expose his hard body. “I guess after a bad week and an unwanted dip in the ocean, the rest of your day can only go uphill, huh?” At the mention of things going up, and before I can stop myself, I let my gaze drop to his boxer shorts. He clears his throat, and I briefly pinch my eyes shut.
Honest to God, I really need to stop checking this guy out. Or at least stop getting caught doing it.
“Just so you know,” he begins, “I was having a crappy day, too.”
I give an exaggerated exhale and glance at my soaked shoes. “And to top it off, I drag you into the water with me.”
“Actually, that’s when my day started to improve.”
“What?” I croak out, my eyes lifting to his. “What are you talking about?”
“I got to see you in your lacy underwear.”
My jaw drops. “You weren’t supposed to look.”
He angles his head. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He grins and turns. “See you later,” he says and saunters away, his hard body taking my focus with him.
“Probably not,” I murmur. I will not be seeing him later, and I will not be thinking about him in his underwear, either.
Much.
Chapter Two
Jay
I stand at the tail end of my pickup truck and search the crowd for my kid brother. I finally spot him coming toward me, and when he sees the soggy state I’m in, his steps slow to a crawl.
“Ah, bro…” He checks out my damp hair and glances at the length of my woolen blanket. “It might be the first Saturday in July, but the water temperature is still too cold for a dip.”
I take in the crooked grin on his face. I love the kid, but sometimes he’s just a huge smart-ass who doesn’t know when to keep his trap shut.
“Give me that.” I take the crate of lobster
he’s holding and slide it into the back.
“Seriously, bro.” He scratches his head and plucks at the gray wool blanket draped over my shoulders. “What the hell? Did you fall into the water or something?”
“Or something,” I mumble.
“I thought you were smarter than that.”
I slam the gate, and with my body temperature back up to normal, I shrug from the blanket. I don’t care who sees me in my boxers. The damn thing is scratchy. My brother stares as I toss the blanket into the back along with my wet clothes. I climb into the cab, and Tyler slides into the passenger seat. With more force than necessary, I shut my door and shove my key into the ignition.
“Seriously, dude? What the fuck happened?” He buckles himself in, and I glare at him for swearing. He ignores me. As usual.
“It was an accident.” I begin to inch from the parking spot, when a Tesla—with none other than Alyson in it—circles my truck and cuts in front of me. I slam on the brakes. “Jesus,” I say. “That woman is going to be the death of me.”
Tyler sits up straighter and rolls down his mud-streaked window, compliments of last week’s heavy rainstorm, to get a better view. “You know her?”
“No.”
“Then why is she going to be the death of you?”
Okay, I stand corrected. Tyler’s incessant chatter is what’s going to put me six feet under and provide a year’s worth of fertilizer for the orchard next door.
“Wait, was she in a blanket, too?” he asks.
Christ, nothing gets by the kid. I pull out behind her and carefully negotiate the busy, winding road. Tourists from all over flock to Peggy’s Cove fishing village this time of year. I usually avoid it during the busy season, but it’s our brother Beck’s birthday, so Tyler and I make the thirty-minute drive to bring home a feed of lobster.
“Hello, earth to Jay.” My brother leans into me and waves his hand in front of my face. I swat it away before we swerve off the road and end up in the ocean. One dip on this windy, Saturday afternoon is my limit, thank you very much. “Was she in a blanket, too?”
“Yes,” I say, hoping to shut him up but knowing it will only bring on more questions.
“Were you two…” He pauses to tap his clenched fists together.
“Fist pumping?” I laugh. “Yeah, that’s what we were doing, Ty. We were fist pumping.”
I rake my wet hair from my forehead, and he snorts.
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re my kid brother. I don’t want to know what you mean.”
He pushes back in his seat and kicks out his long legs. “I’m seventeen, dude.”
Yeah, seventeen, almost as tall as I am, and a total chick magnet. I toss up a silent I’m sorry to my late father. I was a hellion at that age and don’t know how he ever lived through it.
Tyler aims that crooked grin my way again. “Old enough to know better, and too young to care.”
My heart pinches as he recites Dad’s favorite phrase. He’s been gone for five years now but when I look at Tyler, see the stark resemblance, same dark eyes and hair, it’s like I’m looking at a younger version of my dad. I still miss him, and goddammit, I plan to make him proud— I owe him that much.
“Like I said, you’re too young.”
“Okay, old man, what’s gotten your goat?” he asks as he flips through the radio stations.
Old man? Yeah, I might be the father figure in the family, but I’m only twenty-nine. Still, Ty might be right. After taking over the Vegetable farm, and starting an apiary, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have fun.
“Are you going to answer me or are you too caught up in thinking about the hot chick in the blanket?”
“Her name is Alyson, and I’m not thinking about her. I don’t even know her and have no plans to change that. You, little brother, have one hell of an imagination.” He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “Can we stop talking? I have a lot on my mind.”
“I will, once you tell me how you ended up in your boxers.”
I follow Alyson’s car along the scenic route. Okay, so she’s not a dumbass tourist who has no idea how volatile and dangerous the ocean can be, but she’s a tourist nonetheless, and I didn’t need to see the fancy-ass Tesla, a rare sight in Nova Scotia, to come to that conclusion.
There isn’t a local in the entire province who would climb the rocks in a short skirt and high heels. How she managed to keep them on after tumbling into the sea is beyond me. Back in the day, I might have chased a hot girl like her down for other reasons. But those days are far behind me.
“Speaking of goats,” I say, “I thought I heard a coyote last night when locking up.” I cast a glance my brother’s way and move close to the shoulder of the road to let a motorcycle pass. He waves as he goes, and I give him a nod. “Did you check on Mr. Matthew’s animals?”
“Yup, they’re fine.” He picks a long piece of hay off the seat and tosses it into his mouth to chew on it. “When are the new owners taking over? Running two farms is a bitch. I wouldn’t mind reclaiming my personal life, you know. I’ve got chicks to—”
“Disappoint,” I tease with a grin.
“Fuck you.”
I scowl at him for his language, even though it’s a waste of my time. “Couple weeks. That’s what I heard anyway. We have to continue to take care of the animals until the new owner arrives. The market was supposed to open today, but we can hold off on that.”
“I don’t mind taking care of the animals, even though that damn llama is sweet on me. But I hate being inside that stink-ass barn.” He pulls the piece of hay from his mouth. “Hey, did you know the llama tried to give me a hickey?”
“Mr. Matthews does have some interesting animals.” I chuckle as I think about the farmer who used to live next door. The man was like a grandfather to us all. It was only during the reading of his will when he left his farm to a relative that we learned he had family. We’ve taken it upon ourselves to care for the farm until the relative shows up. That’s how things are done in our neck of the woods. “The new owner will be here soon enough.”
“I hope the new farmer has a daughter who is hot.” He produces a dimple as he flashes me a smile.
I shake my head. “Is that all you think about?”
“Seventeen, remember?” he says, and I laugh.
I remember seventeen, for the most part anyway. Partying, drinking, staying out late, getting arrested for vandalism. Jesus, I hated Dad’s disapproving stares, but I was a dumbass kid in with the wrong crowd.
A car horn sounds from behind and pulls me from my reverie. In front of me, Alyson flicks on her signal and swerves around an orange roadside cone to pull into the drive-through at a local coffee shop. I drive past and take one last look at her in my rearview mirror before I hit the highway. That’s that.
“Maybe a hot girl will take the farm over, and you two can…” He taps his clenched fists together again, and I ignore him. He’s playing with me, I get it, but when I catch the hint of concern in his eyes, my stomach clenches, the way it always does at the reminder of my bachelorhood. My kid brother worries about me. Hell, everyone worries about me, but they don’t need to. I’m perfectly fine.
“The guy taking it over might need our help for a while,” I inform Tyler.
He twirls the hay between his lips. “What do you know about him, anyway?”
“Other than his name is Reid, not much.”
Tyler grabs his ball cap, tugs it on, and lowers it over his eyes. “Wake me when we get home. I’m partying with Shay tonight after Beck’s birthday dinner and need my beauty sleep.”
“You two have been hanging around a lot.”
“Your point?”
“Nothing. No drinking,” I say. Shay Banks is a nice girl, from what I know of her. Her older brothers, on the other hand… They’re trouble, and it’s hard
enough to keep my wild-child sibling on the straight and narrow as it is.
“Whatever you say, Dad.”
“Smart-ass,” I mumble.
I reach the highway and drive the rest of the way listening to the radio over Tyler’s snoring. As I approach farm country, the afternoon sun shining down on the crops in the fields and the tree in the orchards, the thick scent of hay in the air, I turn down our dirt road. The old farmhouse rises up before me. Mom is on the porch, hulling the strawberries she grows in her private garden, and in the distance, Beck is in the pasture brushing his horse.
I shove Tyler to wake him, and he wipes the drool from his face. “We’re here,” I say and open my door. I step from the truck, and the scent of hay is replaced by that of fresh apple pie.
“What are you doing in your drawers?” Mom asks when she catches sight of me in nothing but my boxers.
“Fell in the water,” I grumble.
Now she sits up a little straighter. “At Peggy’s Cove?”
“Yeah, I was warning a tourist to get of the rocks, and they slipped, dragging me in with them.”
Tyler slides from the car, waves to Mom, and takes off toward Beck, leaving me to deal with the lobster. My boots sink into the wet soil as I open the back, tossing the woolen blanket over my shoulder.
“Damn tourists,” she murmurs.
“They never learn,” I add but feel a hint of guilt. Alyson was actually helping someone, and I probably shouldn’t have made any kind of comment about her lacy underwear. What was I thinking? I wasn’t, I guess, and that slipped out because it was hard to think straight with her half naked. Not that I was going to do anything about it. Right now I’m too busy righting all the wrongs I made. I promised my dad I’d take care of this place and my family, and that’s what I’m doing. I owe him at least that much. Besides, a city girl like Alyson—not in this lifetime. Not a second time, anyway.
“Pretty, was she?”
“Huh?”
“The girl you saved.”
I’m about to tell her I was more responsible than not for her falling in but stop. Yeah, I could be the poster boy for fucked-up good intentions. “How do you know it was a girl?”