by J. H. Croix
I took a gulp of my wine and swallowed too much at once. I almost choked, splattering wine on my tank top and the table.
Jasper stayed quiet, simply arching a brow as he reached for a napkin and leaned over to quickly wipe up the wine on the table. Everything he did was smooth and measured. Meanwhile, I snatched a napkin and dabbed it pointlessly at my shirt.
When I lifted my eyes again and found his watching me, the heat of his gaze was like licks of fire on my skin. That had to be my imagination. My nipples didn’t think so. They perked up, ready to say hello to the hot British guy.
“Where do you live?” he asked politely.
I pointed toward the ceiling.
“Upstairs?”
I nodded.
“Is there anywhere else to stay here?”
“With the goats and the chickens in the barn.” I figured I might as well be honest.
“So I’m to be treated like a goat. Lovely.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Forgive me, but I didn’t know about the stipulation, and I don’t even know what to think. I suppose you can stay in the guest bedroom upstairs,” I said stiffly.
Jasper watched me quietly. All kinds of things passed through his eyes, none of which I knew how to interpret.
“That will suffice,” he finally replied.
“Suffice?”
“Be adequate,” he clarified.
“I know what suffice means,” I muttered as I took a more careful swallow of my wine. “This is really strange.”
“It certainly is, but it’s what we have to do. I assume you’d like to buy me out.”
I stared at him, desperately hoping he couldn’t see the worry spinning inside me. When he dipped his chin, lasering me with his eyes, I knew he could.
Jasper leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling before leveling me with his eyes again. “Bloody hell. You’re in financial trouble, aren’t you?”
I swallowed and nodded slowly. “All I did was inherit the financial trouble. But I love this place, and I have a plan to turn it around. I certainly don’t have money to buy you out, and I’d prefer not to be saddled with an owner I don’t know.”
“You just met me.”
“Obviously, I’m aware of that. Your grandfather was very fair and easy to deal with, so I can only hope you would be the same. Even if you are kind of a grumpy snob.”
Chapter Three
Jasper
I stared at Anna’s retreating form. Despite the rather shapeless overalls, she couldn’t hide the lush curve of her hips. I also couldn’t erase the sight of the wine splattered on her fitted tank top. More specifically, I couldn’t forget the way her tight nipples pressed against the damp cotton.
Things were tight, all right. When I began to turn and close the door to the room she’d just shown me, I heard her footsteps stop. She looked over her shoulder. “Bathroom’s right there. We have to share.”
“Thank you,” I managed.
She disappeared through another doorway. Closing the door to the guest bedroom, I took stock of my accommodations for the month. Although this space above the winery wasn’t too large, it was very nice. The floors were freshly finished, and the walls appeared to have fresh paint in soft cream. The entire space felt light and airy with a giant window that looked out over the vineyard. Now the moon was rising, casting a silvery glow over the fields. As I looked out the windows, I saw a light illuminating the area behind this barn.
I watched curiously as Anna emerged. The goats appeared, following her across the lawn into a smaller barn. Turning away, I looked down at the dried mud on my slacks and slowly shook my head.
I had no idea what my grandfather had been thinking. I knew he had a mischievous streak a mile wide and had no problem meddling in anyone’s life, not if he cared about them. He was definitely meddling from the grave with this plan. I’d thought I’d show up here and discover the owner thought the entire plan was as ridiculous as I did. No such luck.
The look of worry when Anna heard I expected she’d want to buy me out had elicited unaccountable twinges of guilt. This was a business decision. I didn’t need to feel guilty about some American girl whose grandmother had run up too much debt.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered to myself.
Knowing she was probably feeding the goats outside, I went to the bathroom to wash up. Not much later, I was marveling at how comfortable the bed was with a lightweight down quilt and soft cotton sheets. The space was a far cry from the massive bedroom suite I had in my flat in London, but the bed was more comfortable than my own. It would definitely suffice.
The moment I thought that word, I almost chuckled out loud, recalling Anna’s reaction earlier. No doubt she was sharp as a tack, but I just didn’t know how we were going to get along for an entire month.
Chapter Four
Anna
I nudged Jasper, the goat, with my knee. “Back up. Tinker Bell needs some food too.”
Jasper obligingly backed away from Tinker Bell’s small pile of hay and returned to the one on the other side of the stall. They didn’t have their sweaters on this morning. Jasper was named because he looked like a jasper stone with a part of his rump spotted. Tinker Bell was a prissy little girl and pure white. Together, they brought me plenty of smiles.
After they were settled with their food, I went to gather the eggs from the chickens before returning to the kitchen. It was early, the sun not even cresting the horizon yet. I paused by the door into the kitchen to turn and look out over the vineyard.
Taking a deep breath of the fresh early morning air, I let it out with a slow sigh. I loved it here. Now, I had the other Jasper to worry about, and I didn’t know what to do. Every time I woke from my restless sleep last night, which seemed to be every hour, I fretted over what he might decide to do and worried about money.
The sky was stained tangerine and red, and I knew the sun would inch its way above the horizon soon. For now, everything was quiet, well, except for Randy the rooster. He took the moment to announce his presence.
After letting myself quietly into the kitchen, I tied an apron around my waist. I was dressed a little nicer today than my overalls and boots yesterday. And not just because Jasper was here. We were open today. Mondays were flower market days when customers could come and pick from the flowers on the farm. We had some ready to go and other areas where they could pick from the wildflowers. I took a quick glance at the clock and saw it was approaching six a.m. My small collection of staff would be arriving around seven.
I was fretting over whether I should let Jasper know about the schedule, or just leave him to his own devices. It was all very weird because he technically owned half of this place.
After rinsing the eggs off and leaving them on a towel to dry, I started a pot of coffee before hurrying out to the greenhouse to make sure everything was ready. I was in the middle of putting together clusters of pink daisies when I heard footsteps. Turning, I found Jasper approaching. He wasn’t wearing his suit this morning. Unfortunately for me, one look at him caused my pulse to do a happy dance and take off running as if we had a race to win.
Jasper’s hair was damp, and he wore a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. He had a coffee cup in hand, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction about that. I had no idea why.
“Good morning,” he said with a dip of his head.
“Good morning,” I returned, a little breathlessly.
He stopped beside me, and it instantly felt too close. His presence was unsettling for me. His perceptive eyes scanned the greenhouse before they made their way back to me. “Is this where you grow all the flowers?”
“Some of them.” I waved generally over my shoulder. “We have a small field out there. We use the greenhouse for ones that need more babying. We sell a lot of wildflowers, and those all grow outside,” I explained. “I wasn’t sure what I should tell you about our schedule. Mondays are what we call our flower market. We sell wildflowers and perenn
ials as well as floral arrangements.” I tied a purple ribbon around the cluster of pink daisies before tucking them in a vase with fresh water. “I’m about all set for the morning. Would you like some breakfast?”
“I’m certainly not going to turn down food. Do you serve food to customers?” he asked, falling in step beside me as I began walking out of the greenhouse.
“Not for the flower side of the business. When we do wine tastings, we serve hors d’oeuvres, but that’s it. I can’t even imagine trying to do official food service on top of everything else.”
Once we were in the kitchen, I tied an apron around my waist. “I have fresh eggs. How does an omelet sound?”
“Delicious. Can I help?”
Startled at his question, I paused for a moment before replying, “Um, I guess you could shred some cheese.”
It felt strange having him help. I felt like I should be waiting on him, which didn’t really make sense. But then, none of this made sense. Here we were, the two grandchildren of the people who’d owned this farm. I still didn’t even know why my grandmother had the business partnership with his grandfather. All I knew was she’d done a summer abroad in England when she was in college and met him. In my few conversations with him over the phone and via email, Jasper’s grandfather had told me they had a special friendship and nothing more.
I quickly chopped some fresh tarragon to pair with mushrooms, spinach, and cheese for the omelets. After Jasper shredded the cheese, I added fresh milk.
“Is all of this right here from the farm?” he asked, watching as I whisked the mixture in a bowl.
Glancing up, I nodded. “It’s fresh goat milk. I don’t always have it on hand, but when I do, I use it.”
Jasper nodded. “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to some coffee earlier.”
“Of course not.” Once I had the first omelet in the pan, I got my own cup of coffee.
Not much later, we were seated at the small round table in the corner of the kitchen. Jasper took a bite of his omelet and closed his eyes, letting out a sound of satisfaction. Opening his eyes, he stared at me. “This is amazing.”
I almost laughed and felt a flush crest on my cheeks. “Thank you. Fresh ingredients do make everything better.”
After I cleaned my plate, I glanced over at him. “I’m not sure what you’d like to do today. Obviously, you own half of this place, so you’re welcome to do as you please.”
He finished a sip of coffee. “I was thinking I could start by taking a look at the accounts.”
Suddenly feeling defensive, I wanted to tell him no. They were a mess, and I didn’t know what to do. Actually, I knew what to do. I needed money to fix the mess. I’d yet to magically find it.
“Maybe it would be more fun to—”
Jasper leveled me with a look. “I need to see what the situation is. I’m sure you understand.”
I swallowed and willed the sick churning in my stomach to stop. “Of course. My grandmother lost a lot of money during the recession a while ago. She never quite recovered.”
Jasper’s eyes searched mine. I hated the feel of heat climbing up my cheeks and the way my pulse kept going a little crazy around him. “Understood.”
“Isn’t it something we could do together?” I pressed. “I’d feel better about that.”
“I suppose, but I’d prefer not to wait.”
I leaped up from my chair, snatching his empty plate along with mine. “Fine. My laptop is upstairs. It’s on the coffee table. The password is sunshine.”
Jasper stood. “You don’t need to tell me the password. You can log me in.”
“There’s nothing personal on that laptop. My grandmother used spreadsheets to track everything. Feel free to take a look in her filing cabinet. That’s in the corner of the room upstairs.”
I was furious, and I didn’t know exactly why. I wanted him to give me a little time to absorb the fact that he probably wasn’t going to give me any choice about this. Either I had an unpleasant and uneasy partnership with him, or he sold his share. Since I couldn’t afford to buy him out, I’d be dealing with yet another unknown business partner.
I put the plates in the dishwasher and hurried out. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
I didn’t tell Jasper I’d emailed the attorney listed in one of the emails his grandfather had sent. There was no point. I’d asked if it was true that Jasper needed to spend a month here.
That’s correct. Odd though it may seem, that was the stipulation in his grandfather’s will. Please be aware if Jasper wants to sell, you are not required to agree.
The succinct and clear reply didn’t change anything.
Chapter Five
Jasper
“Can you please tell me what my grandfather was thinking?”
I had my phone on speaker as I scrolled through the haphazard accounting system, if it could even be called a system, Anna’s grandmother used.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. I have a letter for you that’s only to be opened after you have spent your month in California,” Benjamin, my grandfather’s solicitor, explained.
“He’s not here. I miss him dearly, and I would trade him being alive for this situation, even if I knew it was coming. But you work for me now. Can’t I see the letter now?”
“Jasper, I’m fully aware of that. However, you don’t seem to be aware of my obligations as an executor of his estate. I can’t change the guidelines simply because the living person bequeathed the resources would like me to do so.”
“Oh, hell,” I muttered under my breath.
“Your frustration is noted,” Benjamin said crisply. “Is there anything else I can do for you at the moment?”
“Just one thing. Please ask my accountant to review any of the records my grandfather had on this business partnership. Have him email them directly to my personal email, please.”
I had enough sense to know Anna was being mostly honest about what had happened. Although I didn’t know her well, my gut told me she didn’t have it in her to be dishonest. Despite the not particularly organized state of her grandmother’s spreadsheets, it was clear the business was in the black up until the recession a decade ago but then hadn’t recovered after that. Interestingly, the partnership with my grandfather was finalized after the recession, but he’d lent her money before that on two occasions. I was far too curious about the nature of their relationship.
I stood from the chair where I’d set myself up in the loft apartment. The windows offered a stunning view of the vineyard and the flower fields. I had taken advantage of the small desk Anna had situated to face out the windows. At the moment, there were throngs of people milling about in the flower fields and coming in and out of the greenhouse.
There was no doubt this farm had promise and potential. I couldn’t believe I was even marginally contemplating maintaining this investment. Anna’s strawberry blond hair glinted under the sun as she walked through the parking area, talking animatedly with an elderly couple. Her smile was bright as she handed over a bouquet of wildflowers and waved them off when they tried to pay her.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Maybe you’re still in debt because you don’t take money from perfectly good paying customers,” I said to absolutely no one.
Running a hand through my hair, I spun on my heel, surveying this small space. The loft apartment had a tall ceiling, and Anna had plants in each corner. The big, fluffy ferns were little explosions of greenery. I’d never had a plant in my life.
I may only have known her for just about twenty-four hours, but the space felt so much like her. There were touches of whimsy with vibrant glass vases with flowers, a painting of a goat wearing a hot pink sweater with hearts all over it, and a few scarves thrown over the back of the comfy-looking sofa.
The loft was comprised of mostly open space—a living room with a desk and a filing cabinet tucked in the corner, which I supposed would count as the office. The wide island counter in the back served as a divider
between this space and the kitchen. Constructed from what looked like a refinished barn door, it had been polished to a sheen with a glossy finish. The stools surrounding the island had deep purple upholstery and butterflies carved in the wooden backs of the seats. Directly to one side were three doors—the bathroom, the guest room, and what I presumed was Anna’s bedroom.
I didn’t consider myself a nosy person, but apparently that didn’t hold when it came to Anna. As I crossed the room and lightly pressed two fingers on the wooden door to push it open, I told myself I technically owned half this place and it wasn’t personal curiosity that compelled me to peek into her bedroom.
Looking through that doorway, I found myself annoyed with my curiosity. Her bed was a massive wrought iron feminine concoction. She actually had a canopy of gauzy sheer fabric. The bed was piled high with pillows and a massive cream-colored fluffy quilt with an eyelet fringe around the bottom.
On the one hand, the woman I met yesterday in her rubber boots and overalls without a lick of make-up on her face had a hint of tomboy to her. Perhaps more than a hint. Yet looking at this room, her feminine side screamed out at me. She was definitely a woman of contrast.
And I wanted her. It made no sense, not at all.
Every time I thought of trying to persuade her to agree to let me sell my half of the business, I felt a twinge of guilt, which was completely crazy. I’d obviously gone bonkers. I was a businessman, and this was purely business.
Yet much about it had nothing to do with business. My grandfather was a businessman, and not one of his other business collaborations had this bizarre arrangement tied to the estate. For crying out loud, I had to be her roommate for an entire month to even consider asking her to allow me to sell.
Flying out here, I’d thought perhaps I’d meet her, and she’d realize how ridiculous the entire arrangement was and sign off on it anyway. Having met her, I now knew I’d have to badger her into it, and that might not even work.
