by Aurora Rey
“You have an impressive setup here. You’ve got more land than I realized, but you also grow more on it than I would have thought possible.”
Hannah got a flutter in her chest. The farm wasn’t just her livelihood. It was her pride and joy. Like a child, in some ways. Having people say nice things about it meant more than any compliment they could give her personally. “Thanks. We do our best.”
Drew narrowed her eyes. “You always say we. I know you have people working for you, but it’s really you, isn’t it? You’re the driving force behind all this.”
Great. Now she was blushing. “Sort of. It’s definitely my baby.”
“I’m sure there’s a great story. I hope to hear it one day.”
Hannah smiled and tried not to get sentimental. “Maybe.”
As if sensing her emotional shift, Drew took a deep breath. “I’ll remember you said that. But for now, we work.”
Work. Right. That was the point of all this. “Okay. I’ll give you some choices. You can go weed with Jeremiah, then pick your own greens for tomorrow. Or you can come with me and train the bean and tomato plants.”
“I have no idea what training is, but I’ll come with you.”
“Excellent.” They started with the tomato plants. Hannah showed Drew how to hook the stems onto the twine strung along the rows and how to pinch off the suckers.
“Is it silly that I feel bad pulling off such tender little leaves?” Drew paused and looked across the row at Hannah.
“I promise you’ll get used to it. Especially when you realize it can double your production per plant. They’re called suckers for a reason. They suck the plant’s energy.”
“You’re right. That does make a difference.” Drew resumed pinching. “How long until we get tomatoes?”
“Probably another six weeks or so.”
Drew groaned. “That’s cruel. If we were in the South, we’d have the first crop already.”
“And it would be ninety degrees already. And we wouldn’t be able to grow a decent apple.”
Drew seemed to mull that over. “But we’d have citrus?”
“But here we can produce wine.”
“Ah. Okay. You win.”
“Thank you.” They worked their way down each row. The plants were just starting to take off, so it was quick work. Beans were next. No pinching needed, but the plants were already bushy, so it took more time to make sure they were properly supported on the makeshift trellises. At the end of a row, Hannah paused, looked up at the sky. “It’s probably after eleven. Shall we break for lunch?”
Drew stood and Hannah caught her wince before she smiled. “Lunch sounds fabulous.”
They walked back in the direction of the barn. “You can stop anytime, you know. It’s hard work.”
Drew lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”
The edge in her voice softened Hannah even more. “I never said you were. But this uses different muscles than you’re used to.”
Drew closed one eye, made a face. “Maybe something with less bending?”
Hannah laughed. “I’ve got just the thing. Let’s take a break and grab something to eat first.”
“I didn’t think to pack a lunch.”
“There’s lots of stuff in the break room that you’re welcome to.”
They made peanut butter sandwiches. Drew went on and on about Hannah’s blueberry-peach preserves. Jeremiah passed through with his lunch, along with Caroline. The four of them talked about the state of the peach orchard, and the apples. They’d been spared any really hard frosts after April, and it looked like the harvest would be a good one.
Drew didn’t utter a word of complaint, but she got up gingerly. It made her feel bad about egging Drew on, setting it up so Drew felt like she had something to prove. She decided they should end the day on a high note. “How do you feel about picking?”
“Picking as in harvesting? As in, things ready to eat?”
Hannah chuckled at the incredulous tone. “That is the point of all this work, you know.”
“Yes, but you broke my heart once today with a six-week wait for tomatoes. I’m feeling very skittish.”
She bit her lip to keep from smiling, wishing Drew wasn’t quite so charming, and led them back past the green beans to where the pea fences stood. “Okay, there’s a little bending involved here, but I think you’ll find it manageable. And you can take whatever you pick with you.”
Drew’s face lit up. “What do I get to harvest?”
“Sugar snap peas.”
Drew rubbed her hands together, clearly delighted. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
“I thought you’d think so. The question is whether you can handle it on your own.”
Drew gave her a look of utter exasperation. “I think I can manage.”
“Just checking. I abandoned the tractor in the back pasture this morning and I hate leaving it out overnight.”
“Don’t you mean her?” Drew smirked. It was a disarmingly good look on her. “I was told her name is Roberta.”
Hannah snickered, not really embarrassed. “If men can name their sports cars, I can name my tractor.”
“I’m not disagreeing. I think Bertie is a great name for a tractor.”
“Thank you.” Hannah walked Drew to the pea fence, pointed out the sugar snaps. She did a quick demo of the easiest way to pick, handed her a basket, and then left her to her own devices. “I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
Drew had already started picking. “I’ll be here.”
Hannah went to finish her tilling, almost sad to be ending her time with Drew. Which was ridiculous. One of her favorite things about farming was the solitary time. Drew was an entertaining diversion, nothing more. But as she fired up the diesel engine and got to work, Drew never completely left her thoughts. There was no “starting to” about it. She liked Drew, full on. She found Drew interesting. She enjoyed her company. And she couldn’t stop thinking about what it might be like to kiss her. Ugh.
Hannah finished the remaining rows, then pulled the tractor into its shed. It was close to four, but the sun remained high. She found Drew where she’d left her, only at the end of the row instead of the beginning. Her basket was full and she’d turned the bottom half of her shirt into a makeshift one. Hannah tried to ignore the swath of exposed skin. She grabbed a spare basket from the snow pea fence and walked down to meet her. “You’re making quick work, I see.”
Drew transferred the contents of her shirt to the basket and gave Hannah an apologetic look. “I hope that’s okay. There are so many of them. I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Perfectly fine. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” The look of apology vanished and Drew seemed on the verge of flirting with her.
“I was going to say tell me what you’re going to make with them, but maybe I should ask for a sample instead.”
Drew grinned and any question Hannah had about whether they were flirting vanished. “I was thinking of a flash roast. Get a hint of char but make sure they keep their crunch.”
Hannah closed her eyes for a second and imagined the flavor. “Yum.”
“If you want to stop by on your way home tomorrow, I’ll save some for you.”
Hannah looked down at her dirt-streaked clothes. “I couldn’t inflict this on Nick’s customers.”
“That’s why you come around back.” The wink that accompanied Drew’s statement was laced with suggestion.
Hannah swallowed, reminded herself to stay focused on the task at hand. “I guess I could do that.”
“You most definitely should. I’ll pack you up a full dinner to make it worthwhile.”
At this time of year, the promise of a dinner she didn’t have to think about or cook would be sufficient enticement. The extra layer, friendliness or flirtation or whatever it was, maybe should have dissuaded her. But it didn’t. “That would be really nice.”
“Cool. Text me when you’re on you
r way and I’ll have it ready for you.”
“Thanks. Really.” Hannah felt a ripple of awkwardness. “On that note, I should probably let you go. You’ve more than earned your keep today.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. There’s a shower and a cold beer with my name on it at home.”
“Both well earned.” The awkwardness factor doubled when Hannah’s brain pictured Drew wet and naked. She coughed to cover up the involuntary sound that escaped her lips. “Oh, do you want to take tomorrow’s produce with you now?”
“That would be perfect.”
They walked back to the barn and Drew made her selections. They loaded the boxes into her car and Hannah offered a wave as she pulled away. She stood in the parking lot for a moment, exchanging greetings with folks who’d come to pick veggies or snag a few things from the farm stand. She technically could do a few more chores before calling it a day, but a cool shower of her own had major appeal.
She popped inside the store to make sure everything was under control. Clare was chatting with a customer while Caroline restocked chard. Hannah wished them both a good night, then headed for her truck. She drove home with the windows down, telling herself repeatedly, if unconvincingly, she was not going to spend her evening thinking about Drew.
Chapter Nine
I had a great time playing farmer. Can I return the favor?
Drew’s text came only a couple hours after they parted ways. Hannah obsessed more than she cared to admit over her reply. She settled for the obvious. Aren’t you making me dinner tomorrow?
Her phrasing made it sound like a date, but whatever.
That’s for the peas. I want to thank you for letting me tag along. The dots told Hannah more was coming. I’m pretty sure I slowed you down.
She laughed at the assertion, and the awkward toothy emoji that accompanied it. You didn’t slow me down. And you’re the one who did free labor. I should be thanking you.
She kind of wanted to be flirty but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound obvious and cheesy. She stared at her phone. She set it aside, annoyed that she was staring. But when it chirped with an incoming message, she couldn’t pick it up fast enough.
I suggest a gesture of mutual gratitude. I’ll pack the picnic. You show me the best place around here to have one.
Hannah took a screen shot and sent it to Jenn. Is this a date?
Jenn’s reply was instant. 100% yes. Who’s asking you on a date?
She’d cut the name off the top of the photo. Her answer was rewarded with a string of emojis, including a shocked face, a laughing one, and the one blowing a kiss. Next came the dancing lady, bread, cheese, wine, and two pairs of lips. Seriously? Tell me everything.
She started an answer. Crap, she’d abandoned the conversation with Drew. She switched back. Definitely didn’t want to give the wrong impression there. Despite Jenn’s assessment, it might not actually be a date. Or it might. Deal. When’s your next day off?
Next Monday. (Always Monday.) That okay?
She didn’t have a set day off, but once the farm stand opened, she rarely took a day off on the weekend. She smiled. Dating a chef might turn out to be convenient on that score. She stopped smiling and looked around, as though someone might be nearby and catch her. Had she really just used the word “dating” to refer to Drew? That was bad. Wasn’t it?
Without answering any of the questions her brain had posed, she typed out a reply. Great. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.
The place she had in mind didn’t really have an address. And it was easier to get to with a truck. That’s why she offered to pick Drew up. Should she explain that? Or would it make it seem like she was thinking too much?
Ooh, a ride in the pickup truck. Yes, please. You probably want to work in the morning. 4:00?
Of course Drew had to go and be considerate of her work on top of everything else. And make a cute comment about her truck. She shook her head and stared at the ceiling. This had such a high chance of becoming dangerous. Perfect.
A text with Drew’s address followed, then one wishing her sweet dreams. She said good night, set her phone aside, and then rubbed her hands over her face. What was she getting herself into? She’d just started to slide down the rabbit hole of possibilities when her phone rang. Jenn. Crap, Hannah had forgotten all about her.
“Hi.”
Jenn didn’t bother returning the greeting. “You can’t put that out there and then leave me hanging.”
Hannah laughed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Spill.”
She did a quick overview of her day with Drew, the text that started the whole thing, and the plans that came out of it. “Do you still think it’s a date?”
“Hell yes. And a romantic one at that. Where are you going to take her?”
There were plenty of good spots right on the farm, but she might as well pull out all the stops. “Probably that spot at the edge of Pete’s property. It’s got a view of the vineyard and the lake.”
“Excellent choice. Are you going to bring her back to your place after?”
“Jenn.” She made her voice stern, even though the thought had already crossed her mind. “It’s a first date.”
“Yeah, but be honest. You two have been dancing around each other since you met.”
Even if that was true. “I am not inviting her back to my place.”
“You could go to hers. I mean, you’re going to be dropping her off, right?”
In spite of herself, Hannah’s imagination ran with it. What would it be like? Would Drew make the first move? How would she respond if Hannah did? She shook her head, even though Jenn wasn’t there to see it. “I do not have sex on the first date.”
“Fine, fine. The date is plenty exciting. And the first date is the prerequisite for the second date. And I know for a fact you’ll have sex on the second date.”
Before Hannah and Jenn were best friends, they’d gone on exactly two dates. The second had ended in the most awkward sexual encounter of Hannah’s life. She was pretty sure that was true for Jenn, too. “Maybe not the thing to say if you think I should be having second-date sex.”
Jenn laughed. “You have a point. Still. How long has it been exactly?”
Hannah did the math and frowned. “Not quite a year.”
Jenn snorted. “Way too long. I’d tell you to relax your standards, but Drew’s pretty hot, so maybe you won’t have to.”
“Could we wait until I’ve gone on a date with her to decide about the sex?”
“I bet she’s good.”
“What makes you say that?” Hannah almost didn’t want to know. But then, she did.
“Chefs are passionate by nature, creative. Good with their hands.”
At the description, heat gathered in Hannah’s center. She pressed her thighs together. She’d noticed Drew’s hands while they were training the tomato plants. Her long fingers moved deftly over the leaves and stems.
“Hannah? You still there.”
“Uh. Yeah. I’m here.”
“You were thinking about her hands, weren’t you?”
No point in lying. “Maybe.”
“Good. You can be so serious sometimes. A little daydreaming is good for you.”
“I daydream plenty.”
Jenn sighed. “Let me clarify. Daydreaming about sex is good for you. It’ll heighten the anticipation. Make you want it more.”
Wanting Drew more than she already did seemed like a terrible idea. But she didn’t need to pick apart the reasons for that with Jenn. “Well, it’s a week away, so I’ll have plenty of time to think about it.”
“I wish I had someone to fantasize about. My life is so boring.”
“What about the woman from Rochester? The professor?”
Jenn sighed. “She was a little uptight. And I don’t think she liked that I work with money. Like it’s not a reputable profession or something.”
Hannah hadn’t met her, but she’d not been ter
ribly impressed with what Jenn had shared. “Good riddance, then. You’re completely reputable. Well, professionally at least.”
Jenn laughed. “I love you, Hannah Little.”
“I love you back.”
“Dinner Friday still, yeah?” Jenn asked.
“Yep. You bring the beer and I’ll make dinner.”
“And we can plot your date and pick your outfit.”
Hannah couldn’t help but snicker. “You make us sound about sixteen.”
“I like to think my taste in beer has improved since then. And women, for that matter.”
Since she’d still thought herself straight at that age, she couldn’t disagree. “I’ll see you then.”
Jenn ended the call and Hannah pulled up her texts to reread her conversation with Drew. It really did seem like a date. So, if she went on that premise, it meant she might have to decide whether or not to have sex with Drew. Again, her imagination had no problem taking that idea and running with it. Of course, if they had sex, some version of a relationship might follow. That still seemed more complicated and weird than she was ready for. If Jenn were there, she’d tell Hannah she was getting ahead of herself. Hannah chuckled. She’d be absolutely right.
* * *
Since it was a week away, Drew tried not to spend too much time thinking about going on a picnic with Hannah. Especially since she’d see Hannah at least a couple of times before then. Including tonight.
Dinner service was bumping for a Tuesday. There was some kind of concert in the park and it seemed like people decided to kick off the evening with a nice dinner. And nice dinner meant Fig.
She preferred things busy. The frenetic pace gave her energy. It also made Nick happy and helped her reputation. People weren’t just coming to the restaurant. They were coming to eat her food. And that made Drew very happy.
Also making her happy was the prospect of Hannah dropping by any minute.
She was not one to obsessively check her phone, certainly not during dinner service. But she’d pulled it out of her back pocket at least a dozen times already. She told herself because, even with the volume up and vibrate setting on, she might miss a text. That wasn’t why, but she told herself anyway.
