by Cathryn Fox
Alyson
By the time I peel my eyes open, the sun is blaring into my room. I jackknife up and glance at the clock. “Oh, crap.” I throw my covers off and jump up. I tossed and turned so much last night, my body a hot quivering mess after that near kiss, I slept right through Cluck’s rise-and-shine call. Poor Sidney must be bursting, and the market opens in less than thirty minutes. I have no idea how I’ll manage to get myself cleaned up, feed the animals, and get the market open on time.
Forgoing a shower, I climb back into Jay’s heavy clothes. I’m going to sweat to death in these things, but I won’t have a chance to get to Trader Tim’s before customers start coming. My plans for this morning had been to wake early, get my chores done, and be on Main Street at seven, standing on the sidewalk when the store opened. But now—thanks to that near kiss—I’ll have to shuffle around all day uncomfortable. Hey, maybe that was Jay’s plan all along— Make Alyson miserable to speed up her exit. Cripes, maybe he’s betting on how long I’ll be here, although he’s been kind and that doesn’t seem like something he’d do. Maybe he’s just anxious to see the farm in Bryce’s hands. Locals take care of locals, and no matter what, I’ll always be an outsider.
Even though he wants me gone, last night, he wanted something else. We both did. I’m not a girl to dive headfirst into things. Well, maybe that’s not true. I dove headfirst into running this farm and into nearly making out with the beekeeper next door. Must be something in the fresh country air making me act irrational. But getting involved with him is not in my best interest. I need to get my life in order, figure out my future before I lose everything, and the hot farmer next door is a distraction I can’t afford. It’s hard not knowing what I want or who I truly am, and with my family betting against me, well, that just cuts deeply. I’ve never really let them see that, but it’s not fun to feel worthless or to be treated like you’re a joke. A lot of people won’t, or can’t, see my worth. I’m trying so damn hard not to be one of them.
I’m about to rush outside when my phone rings. I pick it up and every muscle in my body tightens when I see it’s my father. I hesitate for a second. If I don’t answer, he’ll probably send someone to collect me.
I groan and slide my finger across the screen as I head downstairs. In my happiest voice, I say, “Good morning, Dad.”
A pause and then, “I wasn’t sure you’d be up this early.”
Why the heck did he call if he didn’t think I’d be up… Oh, because he’s checking up on you, Alyson.
My teeth clench, but really, can I blame him for his assumptions? Eight o’clock might be considered sleeping in here, but back home, yeah, I’d probably still be in bed. “I’m up. Lots to do on a farm,” I say.
“Is that right?” The skepticism in his voice crawls over my skin like a million angry fire ants.
“That’s right,” I say, and he goes quiet as I list off my daily chores. When I finally finish, a big, bored sigh reaches my ears. I clench my fist. I will not let his lack of faith in me steal my thunder. I got this! “Why are you calling?”
“I hadn’t heard from you.”
“I called Mom.”
“Yes, well, I wanted to hear how you were firsthand.”
Of course he did.
“I’m good, Dad. Great.”
“Right, of course you are,” he says, his voice dripping with disbelief. A door opens and closes in the background, and his muffled voice comes through as he speaks to someone. I shift from one foot to the other as I wait, anxiousness welling up inside me. I need to get outside and tend to my animals. “Sorry about that,” he says when he returns.
“I’d love to talk, but I have animals to take care of.”
“I’ll see you soon, Alyson.”
Anger flares through me. That statement might sound innocent enough, but I get it. He expects me to come running home with my tail between my legs sooner rather than later. While one part of me is pissed off, there’s another part of me that totally understands his doubt.
“Not as soon as you might think,” I say and end the call before he can scoff.
I can’t wait to see the look on his face—and Jay’s—when I pull this off. I’m going to show them all what I’m really made of. With my chin high, I finger comb my hair and open the back door, ready to bolt to the barn when I find a pair of boots, a set of coveralls, and a T-shirt. I scoop up the T-shirt and coveralls and find a couple pairs of panties—or rather, granny panties—underneath.
“Ohmigod,” I whisper, equal amounts of gratitude and embarrassment flooding me as I tug them to my chest and glance around. Panic overtakes me when I see the barn door open, my animals milling about. “Oh, no.” I hurry to the barn, the new clothes still pressed to my chest, but slow my steps when I spot Tyler on the fence watching Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner slurp their food and stomp around in the drying mud.
“Tyler,” I say. “What’s going on?”
He glances up and rolls a piece of hay between his teeth.
“Morning, Alyson.”
“Did you… Ah.” I look around the orchard, spot the llamas in the distance. “Did you take care of the animals?”
“Beck helped. He’s taking Sid to her pasture.” He gestures with a nod. “You should probably get another cow. I think Sid is lonely. Cows are sensitive creatures, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.” I shade the sun from my eyes. “Well, Jay did say something about them being social.”
“Not right for her to be in the field without companionship all day.” He makes a tsking sound, like he’s older and wiser than his mere seventeen years. “Not right for cows, not right for people, either.”
Is he getting at something else here? Does he know how alone I feel, how none of my friends are even bothering to reach out? Of course he doesn’t, and he doesn’t need to hear the poor little rich girl’s sob story. I’m a joke to these people, and I know it. They’re taking care of my animals because they don’t think I can properly care for them and are likely tired of waiting until I find someone who can. Dammit, I plan to prove them all wrong. I stare out into the orchard, the fresh scent of hay in the air.
“Are you going to think about getting a friend?” Tyler says. “Or even a boyfriend?”
“What?” I ask, my gaze jerking to his.
“Sidney, she needs a friend,” he says with a nod. “What did you think I meant?”
“That. I thought you meant that,” I say, but he’s smirking, like he knows how close Jay and I came to kissing last night. Maybe Jay told him. “But I need to master taking care of one first. I can’t believe I slept in this morning.” That’s when it hits me. “Wait, I need to milk her.”
He rolls the hay around with his tongue. “Already done.”
“Really, thank you, Tyler. I promise not to sleep in again.” I tap the clothes in my hand. “And these are going to save me today.”
“Hard to believe you slept through Cluck’s crowing. Up late, were you?”
“Something like that.” I hold my phone up and try to get a signal as he offers me a crooked grin. The kid is too astute for his own good.
“And don’t thank me. Thank Jay. I only helped with the feedings. I had nothing to do with the clothes you’re holding.”
My heart warms as I look around. “Do you know where he is?”
“Probably still stewing about the fireworks.”
“So, it was you?”
“Yeah, my bro needs to lighten the fuck up. We were just blowing off some steam, so to speak. Everyone needs to blow off a bit of steam sometime, you know.”
“You’re not wrong, and Jay just worries about you. He cares.” My throat tightens. It’s so nice that they all have each other.
“Whatever. Can I see your phone?” he asks, and I hand it to him. Maybe he knows the trick to getting a signal out here.
He runs his finger
over the screen and slides off the wooden fence as he hands it back.
“What did you do?”
“Put Jay’s digits in there. In case you need anything, you know.” He sucks on the strand of hay for a moment then says, “Yeah, it’s been a long time since Jay’s gotten rid of all that pent-up energy. He’s been working too hard and playing too little ever since—”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jay asks, cutting him off. I turn to see him, and his jaw is set hard, his eyes narrowed in on his brother. His clothes are a rumpled mess, like he slept in them last night. Did he toss and turn as much as I had?
“Yes, Dad,” Tyler says and pushes up from the fence. He gives me a wink. “See you around, pretty lady.”
He disappears, and Jay looks to the sky, like he’s tossing up a silent prayer. “It’s karma,” he says.
“It’ll get you every time,” I respond, his heat and energy reaching out to me, awakening my body all over again. God, what is it about this guy? He’s tall, rough, and rugged. Sexy as hell. At every turn I get caught in his gravitational pull.
“Yeah, then what did you do to end up at an apple orchard?” he asks, a grin on his face, making him look hotter than ever.
I plant one hand on my hips and shake my head. “Still can’t understand why fate brought me here.”
Lesson or blessing.
“I hope those fit,” Jay says, pulling my thoughts back as he gestures to the clothes in my hand. “I had to run to town this morning.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing to me.
“Thank you. That was sweet of you, and I’m sure they’ll fit. They’re my size,” I say. Well, except the panties, but that’s best left unsaid.
“The underwear,” he says. “Trader Tim only stocks one size fits all.”
Or not.
Dear ground, please open up and swallow me whole.
He shrugs, a grin playing with his mouth. “I get they’re probably a bit big on you.”
“You think?”
“Well, I did kind of see you in your panties a couple times.”
“Right, well, thank you,” I say, as warmth invades my cheeks. “I wasn’t going to have time to get anything new before opening the market.”
“I figured as much.” He kicks at the dirt and rakes his hands through his hair. “About last night…” he begins, and I swallow. Is he going to suggest we pick up where we left off? A little harmless hookup? “We probably shouldn’t have—”
Guess not.
“You’re right,” I say. “It was a mistake.” I give a very unladylike snort, and he angles his head, his brow furrowed as he studies me. “There’s definitely something in the water here. I don’t usually go around kissing strangers.”
Stop rambling, Alyson.
“Are you saying you go around kissing people who aren’t strangers?”
“Yeah, I make out with friends all the time.”
“I guess I should be careful then. Yesterday, you declared us friends.”
“We’re neighbors,” I say. “I don’t even know you, and I’ll definitely pay for all this stuff. Just let me know. I have cash, or I can e-transfer the money. Wait, do you have an account so it can be done?”
He stares at me. “You’re in Canada, not Siberia, although I’m pretty sure they have e-transfer there, too.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“It’s fine.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Since I was responsible for ruining your clothes with cold, salty water, we’ll call it even.”
“It wasn’t really your fault,” I say.
The sound of wheels crunching on my gravel driveway reach my ears, and I almost breathe a sigh of relief, thankful for the distraction.
I look to my long driveway and spot an SUV. “I’d better go. Customers.”
“Yeah. You, ah, have a little something…” He reaches for me, and I flinch. He jerks his hand back. “Sorry.” He touches his cheek. “On your face.”
I brush my face, and a bug falls. “Ohmigod. What the hell was that? It wasn’t a tick, was it?”
“Just a small beetle.”
I dance around and brush my arms, doing a good job of mimicking hot bacon sizzling in a pan. “I hate bugs.”
“I can tell.” He chuckles.
“Are there any more?”
Jay touches my shoulders to still me, and the warmth of his hands trickles all the way to the stupid needy spot between my legs. Alrighty then. A car door slams, and I work to calm myself down in more ways than one.
“I’ll see you around,” he says but doesn’t make a move to go. Neither do I. His ridiculous gravitational pull won’t allow me to step away.
“Thanks again for the clothes and help today,” I say, stalling.
“Yup.”
My phone pings, surprising me. “I’d… I’d better go.”
“Yup,” he says again.
I force my legs to move and glance at my phone as I step around him, hoping it’s not dear old Dad again.
Lucy: You would not believe who Nolan made out with last night.
I stare at the text from Lucy. Well, hello to you, too, and oh yes, I made it here safely and things are going great. Oh, and my neighbor, he’s hot as hell, and we nearly kissed.
But I don’t say any of that.
Who? I text back.
Lucy: Brittany the skank. We are so done.
Nolan is her boyfriend. I always did think he was kind of a jerk. I’m sorry, I text back.
Lucy: How’s the farm?
Terrifying. Overwhelming. I’m so tired, I could go narcoleptic at any minute. Great, I type. Beautiful here.
Lucy: When are you coming home? I miss my bestie.
I snort. Now that Nolan is out of the picture and you’re on the prowl again. But I don’t say that. Instead, I text, Not for a while.
Lucy: I still can’t believe you went there in the first place.
It’s not so bad, I text, realizing that despite it all, I actually mean it.
Lucy: Maybe I should come visit. Get away from here for a bit.
I smile. That’s a reality show waiting to happen. Absolutely. I have to run right now. Farm work never ends.
Lucy: I won’t have to like do farm work if I visit, will I?
I’m tempted to tell her I’m going to make her milk Sidney. Of course not.
Lucy: Are there any hot guys there?
A strange wave of jealousy and possessiveness curls through me. If you like the farmer type.
Lucy: Maybe I’ll come there and get…plowed. I mean, rumor has it, farmers come equipped.
Ugh. The last thing I need is for Lucy to be here hitting on all the farmers. She’s been known to get herself into trouble, and I can’t look after this farm and her, too. But I really don’t think she’ll fly here. Without dancing and shopping within a block, this is so not her scene. Haha. GTG.
Lucy: TTYL.
I shove my phone into the front pocket of my baggy sweatpants as I dart into the market, a young couple strolling in behind me. Another car pulls into the driveway as I serve the first customers of the day. A middle-aged woman who gives off a warm, motherly vibe strolls in and gives me a finger wave like she knows me as I finish up with the young family. Once they’re off, I turn my attention to her.
“So, you’re Alyson,” she says. “I’m Cindy.”
Ah, the soup lady and extra pair of hands around here. I exhale in relief. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I say and step around the counter to shake her hand.
“Sorry about your uncle. He was a kind man and will be missed by many.”
“Thank you,” I say, my heart warming to know he had such great people in his life.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” she asks as she looks me over.
“
My luggage went missing.” I tap the clothes in my hand. “But Jay was kind enough to pick these up for me.”
“Was he now?” she says, her lips pursing as her head bobs in a strange way.
“Friendly people around here,” I say.
“Cute, too.”
“What?”
She chuckles. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how cute Jay was.”
“He’s okay, I guess.” I shrug, and she continues to smile at me. My God, am I that transparent? “Let me get changed.” I dart to the back room and change clothes, much more comfortable in the T-shirt and coveralls, although I’ve never worn coveralls in my entire life. My friends would have the fashion police after me.
“I thought we’d get started with the pies and muffins.” Cindy says when I meet her in the kitchen. She tugs two aprons from the drawer and hands one to me.
“I’m not very good at any of this.”
“No worries. You look like a fast learner.”
I beam from the compliment and tie the apron around my lap. “Let’s do this.”
Before I know it, we’re cooking up a storm. Of course, when I say we, I mean Cindy. I’m just doing what I’m told and trying to learn. By lunchtime, the market is crowded, and Cindy and I are run off our feet, feeding hungry customers and ringing in orders. I’m sweaty and completely covered in flour by the time the last customer for the day leaves. I stifle a yawn and remove my apron.
“What a day,” I say.
“Just wait until it gets busy.”
My jaw drops. “Ah, are you saying today wasn’t busy?”
She laughs. “Far from it.”
“I’m dead on my feet as it is.”
“I heard talk that you’d be selling. Bryce—”
“I know,” I say, holding my hand up to stop her. “A few people told me about him wanting to buy.”
“He’d take the place as is, and you wouldn’t even have to paint or spruce it up or bother putting it on the market. He’s been after the property for quite some time. He nearly lost his mind when he found out it was going to a relative.” She clicks her tongue as we step outside. “He was spitting mad, actually.” I follow her gaze to the old farmhouse, which is truly in need of a fresh coat of yellow paint on those cedar slats and a good scrubbing. The windows are mud-splattered and hard to see out of.