by Cathryn Fox
“Why does he want it so badly?” I ask.
She cocks her head, like that idea had never crossed her mind. “Actually, I don’t know. He doesn’t really seem like the farming type. But he’s a developer, so maybe it’s an investment for him. Does it really matter to you, though?”
Oddly enough, it does matter. Jack left it to a family member, which tells me he wanted to keep it in the family. But no one would understand that as my motivation, so I say, “Yeah, you’re right.” With a strange heaviness inside me, I lift my face, and the glorious late-afternoon sun shines down on me. That’s when I remember the stream Jay mentioned. “I think maybe I’ll actually check out the property and go for a dip in the stream.”
“That sounds divine, actually. I’d join you, but I have to get home for the boys,” she says. Gravel crunches beneath approaching tires, and we both turn.
“I’d better go switch the sign from open to closed,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s why he’s here.”
“What?”
“Speaking of the devil, that’s Bryce Kent. I bet he’s here to make an offer on the farm.”
A middle-aged man steps from the car and smooths his hand over his gelled hair. He doesn’t look like any of the farmers I’ve come across so far. In fact, he looks like a greasy, underhanded used car salesman. But who am I to judge?
“Bryce,” Cindy says. “Nice to see you again.”
“Cindy,” he responds, and instead of looking at me, he looks beyond me, at all my land and buildings, like he’s sizing the place up. I suppose he is.
“I’ll leave you two to chat,” Cindy says with a squeeze of my arm. I thank her for her help today and wave her off. Once her car disappears down the long driveway, I take a deep breath, completely exhausted but also feeling somewhat proud of my day’s work, and turn to Bryce.
“I’m Alyson Reid. Jack’s niece and the new owner.” I hold my hand out to him.
“So I heard,” he says and shakes my hand. “Never knew Jack had any family.”
“I only recently learned I had an Uncle Jack who owned an orchard.”
His dark, beady eyes narrow in on me. “Then it seems to me you don’t rightfully belong here. We don’t much care for outsiders sticking their nose in business that’s not theirs.”
My head rears back. “Excuse me?”
“From New York, I hear,” he says, ignoring me.
“Yes.”
“How about I take this place off your hands, Alyson from New York who knows nothing about running a working orchard? Save you a heap of trouble listing it.”
I work to keep my cool. The man is being a total ass. “What if I’m not looking to sell?” I say. At least not yet, and when I am, I’m not so sure I’d want my late uncle’s prized possessions to go to this man.
He laughs and rocks on his feet. “Ah, playing hardball, are you? Should have expected that. Fine, if you wanted to negotiate, let’s negotiate.”
“What do you mean you should have expected that?”
He laughs and eyes me. “Fast-talking city girl who thinks she can use her charm to outsmart a country bumpkin. Let’s just cut to the chase. What’s your price?”
Fast-talking city girl? What the hell? And what charm do I have?
“I…”
“I’ll drop two hundred thousand. You can have it in your hand by the end of the week. I’ll take it as is, and you can put this place behind you.”
My jaw falls open. Is this guy for real? I don’t know much about real estate, but I Googled a few things before I came here, and this farm is valued at over a million. This guy thinks I’m an idiot. I might not be very good at very many things, but I’m not an idiot.
“I’m not interested. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have some things to do.”
“It’s the best offer you’re going to get. I’ll let you think on it a little bit. I’m easy to find when you change your mind. Just ask anyone.” He walks back to his car, and I fold my arms, staring him down until he’s out of my driveway. That’s right, my driveway. I own this place, and I’m not going to sell to some shady asshole.
I exhale a deep breath to calm myself and push Bryce Kent from my thoughts. I begin my exploration of the property, and as I go deeper into the orchard, bees fly by me. I gulp and try not to panic. Jay isn’t around to rescue me, and from our earlier goodbye, I take it I won’t be seeing much of him—except when I have to help his friend Colin with the dance routine. But if I’m going to live next to an apiary, figuring out how to not antagonize the bees might be in my best interest. I just don’t want my folks to get wind of any medical mishaps. They’d likely be here to “rescue” me in a heartbeat.
I weave in and out of the trees and check on the growing fruit. I tug off a few cherries from a tree and pop them into my mouth. Flavor bursts on my tongue, and ohmigod, who knew cherries right from a tree could be so yummy? I eat and walk the huge piece of land until bubbling sounds reach my ears.
In the clearing just ahead of me, I see the stream, the water rushing along my property. I dart a glance around to check for beavers, coyotes, and any other animal that could be lurking, and when I find myself all alone, I tug my phone from my pocket and take a few pictures. The place really is gorgeous and peaceful, exactly what I need after a “not-so-busy day,” according to Cindy.
That thought makes me snort as I set my phone down on a rock and peel off my coveralls and T-shirt. I wade into the cold water—not as cold as the Atlantic Ocean, thankfully—and let it wash away the heat of the day and the stain Bryce put on my mood. I swim out a bit, and off in the distance, Cluck crows, the noise carrying in the still air. I laugh and dip under again. I spend a long time floating and relaxing, and with my body now cooled, I climb from the water and go perfectly still when I notice my clothes have gone missing.
“What the hell?” I whisper and cover my half-naked body with my hands as I glance around. Fear pricks my skin, and I know I’m not alone out here. I spot my phone on a rock and snatch it up. I need to call someone, do something. I do not want to go streaking back to my place, especially if whoever took my clothes is still out there.
I pull up Jay’s number and call it. He answers on the third ring.
“Hello.”
“Jay, it’s Alyson,” I say in a whisper, trying not to sound as panicked as I feel.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I’m at the stream.” A bird takes flight overhead and scares the crap out of me. “I went for a swim, and someone stole my clothes.”
A moment of silence, like he’s trying to wrap his brain around what I just told him, and then, “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m nervous.” I dart another glance around.
“What’s going on?” I hear Tyler ask in the background. Tyler is a joker, but I’m sure he’d never do something like this to me.
“I’ll be right there.”
I duck down by a tree and listen for footsteps. Silence surrounds me, and I hope whoever took my clothes is long gone by now. Wildlife scurries around me, and I spot a bunny darting into the underbrush. After a few minutes, I hear the crunch of leaves caused by someone, and I can only hope it’s Jay, running through the orchard.
“Alyson,” he says as he darts into the clearing, barely winded.
“Over here.” I stand, and he comes toward me with a towel and more of his clothes. “I’m sorry to bother you, Jay. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“It’s fine.”
“Tyler put your number in my phone this morning. In case of an emergency, I guess. I’m not sure this qualifies, but…”
“It qualifies.”
A garbled sound crawls out of my throat as I press the clothes to my chest. “Fate keeps throwing us together, and for some reason, I’m never dressed right.”
“Yeah, I know,” h
e says, and my gaze flies to his at the deepening of his voice. He shifts his stance, his eyes latched onto my mouth, and unable to help myself, I wet my lips in invitation. A small, tortured groan takes up space between us.
I swallow. Hard. “I really appreciate this,” I say and quickly dry myself off as my pulse flutters. I dress quickly as the scent of freshly laundered clothes reaches my nostrils.
“Tyler and his friends can be assholes, but they’d never do something like this, Alyson,” he says, defending his brother, and rightfully so. “He might be a smart-ass, but he knows right from wrong.”
“Ty’s a good kid. I know he wouldn’t do this.”
He scrubs his chin and glances around again. “Whoever’s messing with you is going to hear it from me if I ever get a hold of them.”
“Why do you think someone would take my stuff?” I hold my phone up. “Thank God they didn’t see my cell. It was on the rock over there.”
“I don’t know. It’s not like anyone around here to steal clothes.”
“They even took my boots.”
“You can’t walk back to the house in your bare feet.” Jay reaches down and starts untying his boots.
I touch his arm to stop him, and electricity sizzles through my body, warming it up all over again, despite the cold dip. “I’m not going to take yours,” I say and pull my hand back.
“The only other option is for me to carry you.”
I glance at my bare feet. “I should be okay.”
“Fine then.” Jay scoops me up, and I gasp in surprise. “You’ll shred your feet, and you need them in good shape on a farm.”
He starts through the orchard, and I wrap my hands around his neck to hold on, acutely aware of his hands on my body. The warm scent of his skin teases my senses—as well as other things a little farther south.
We reach my house, and he carries me in. I slide down his body, and my feet hit the floor, but his hands are on my back, pinning me to him, preventing me from leaving. His eyes are latched on my mouth, and for a second, I can’t think, let alone breathe.
“Jay,” I finally manage to croak out.
“Yeah.”
“Thanks,” I say, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I go up on my toes and press my mouth to his, the driving need to feel his lips on mine shutting down my ability to think with any sort of clarity. The second I taste him, note his lips are firm, unmoving, one working brain cell reminds me this isn’t a good idea. I’m about to jump back and apologize profusely—maybe even claim insanity. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I mean, he did say madness burrows like a tick in these parts, right? But then his hands tighten on my back, dragging me closer, his arousal evident by the thickening of his cock against my stomach.
Oh, my God, yes.
Wait, what?
No. I mean no.
This is so not a good idea. I’m a quitter with no focus, and my sole purpose for being here is to find myself and prove I can stick to something, and that something is not the honeybee farmer next door. Which means I should put a stop to this…need to put a stop to this. And I will, the second I figure out how to untangle my tongue from his.
Until then, however…
Chapter Ten
Jay
I walk along my property and check on the corn. When the permits finally come through—and I hope they do before this year’s crop is ready for picking—I’ll be the first and only farm in the valley to offer U-Pick corn. I’m looking forward to opening the homestead up and teaching customers about sustainability and the importance of buying local. I hope it meets with great fanfare.
After a quick check on my bees, I find Beck sitting cross-legged, playing some game on his phone. I’m surprised he can get service way back here. I chuckle. It’s crazy how Alyson relies on Google for just about everything.
Kissing however… She was a natural at that, and it’s been six days since she pressed her soft lips to mine, six long days since I last set eyes on her. I’m still surprised she hasn’t packed up and put us in her rearview mirror. She must be missing her friends, family, and civilization by now. Don’t even get me started on exhaustion. Farm work is hard for those born into it, and for those who haven’t… It’s brutal. Chances are she won’t even show up tonight to help Colin with the dance.
“Where’s Tyler?” I ask and glance around. Last night, I asked my brothers to meet me here so we could get some work done on the cattle barn. The structure needs to be in place before the end of summer. Winters are cold around here, and I need to protect the steer from the elements.
“I’m not his keeper, bro,” Beck says and shades the sun from his eye as he glances up at me. “But my guess is he’s helping out the hottie next door.”
“Don’t call her that,” I say. “Her name is Alyson.”
That’s right. Her name is Alyson Reid, who just happens to be the hottie next door—who kissed me. And what did I do in response? Oh, kissed her back. Yup, that’s exactly what I did. You know what else I almost did? I almost carried her up the stairs to her room and had my way with her.
Thankfully, footsteps on her deck shook some sense back into me, and I broke the kiss seconds before Colin’s fiancée Sara and a group of her friends all stopped by with a bottle of wine to welcome Alyson to the farm. I’d have been the talk of the town if we’d gotten caught, and I don’t want anyone, least of all my mother, getting the wrong idea. I might need to get laid, but I am not looking for any kind of relationship—especially with a city girl who isn’t cut out for this life.
So, get laid already.
I’ve had offers, but now, after kissing Alyson, she’s the one I think about at night when I wrap my hand around my cock. Fuck. Me.
“You okay, bro?”
“What?” I ask.
Beck pushes to his feet and stands almost as tall as me. His too-long hair, a lighter shade of brown than mine, hangs to his shoulders. “You kind of disappeared for a second.”
“Just thinking about things.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “Where the hell is Tyler?”
“Language, bro,” Tyler says as he comes strolling through the path separating my property from Alyson’s. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask.
“Just hanging out with Alyson. Did you know her friend Lucy might be coming to visit next week? I hope she’s hot, too.”
“Is that all you think about?”
He laughs. “Seventeen, dude, remember.”
“Yeah, I remember. Now get the tool belt on and help me with those two-by-fours over there. Beck, can you set up the saw? I want to get the north wall up before dark.”
“On it,” Beck says, and Tyler frowns at me.
“What?”
“Bryce is a fucking dick. Did you know that?”
“Yup, not a big fan myself.”
“He’s sketchy as shit.” He snorts. “No wonder Mr. Matthews didn’t want to sell him the farm. I think I need to teach Capone a new phrase and parade him around in front of Bryce the next time he comes by.”
My hand stills as I reach for my tool belt. “Bryce came by?”
“He cornered Alyson in the market today. He really pissed her off, too,” Ty says. “She’d just taken a pie from the oven, and I thought she was going to throw it at him. She should have.” He laughs. “That would have been fucking awesome.”
My stomach tightens. Bryce doesn’t have a whole lot of tact, but he wants the farm, and a fast offer will allow her to make a clean break from this place. “What did he do to piss her off?”
“He said he’d take the farm off her delicate hands and reminded her of the offer he made last week. He really lowballed her. I should have sicced Cluck on him.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing over there, Jay. But I wasn’t go
ing to let her get screwed over. Told that fucking dick to shove his offer up his arse and not to come back until he has a better one.”
“You probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“I mean, we all know she’s not cut out for this, but she’s really trying.”
She really is trying. It’s evident and surprising. My stomach squeezes. Shit, maybe I should be more worried than I am about losing my bet with Charlie. It’s still early in the game, though. In a couple more weeks, she’ll fall apart. She has to.
“She should get fair market value when she sells,” I say.
“I don’t think it’s the first time he harassed her, either. She seemed to know exactly who he was when he walked into the barn like he owned it. He really upset her.”
The urge to run over there and protect her from that asshole takes hold. “Okay, I’ll talk to her, make sure she’s okay.” I glance at my watch. “Let’s get this done. I have to be at the community center by seven.”
“Heard Alyson was choreographing the dance,” Beck says after he gets the table saw set up.
“Can’t wait to see you make an ass of yourself,” Tyler adds, laughing as he grabs the lumber.
I ignore his jibe because he’s not wrong, and for the next couple hours, we work. By the time we get the wall up, the sun is low on the horizon. I wipe my brow with the back of my hand.
“Thanks, guys. Good job.”
“Now can I go get laid?” Tyler asks.
“Tyler—”
“Wouldn’t hurt you to get laid, too, big brother.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Tyler, you need to…” I stop talking. I am not arguing about my sex life with my brother. “Go,” I say to him. “And no partying. I need your help tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, Dad.”
Jesus, I’ll be glad when school is back in. I turn to Beck, who is just grinning. “What?” I ask.
“He’s not wrong. You do need to get laid,” he says and throws his arm around me.
I shake my head as we walk back to my place. “Not you, too.”