Sunkissed

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Sunkissed Page 6

by Daniels, Janelle


  She sighed when he pulled back. “I should get going. It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah.” He stepped away, taking her hand in his. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Feeling his hand secured in hers, she smiled. There was something so sweet, and yet intimate about the gesture that made her feel cozy inside.

  Driving away, she wondered what other surprises she would face now that she was involved with Grant Walker.

  * * *

  In under an hour, Natalie was in hell.

  “I surrender. You were right. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” Wiping the mist of perspiration off of her brow, she grimaced.

  Grant belly laughed. “I tried to tell you. You’re welcome to bow out gracefully. I won’t hold your offer of help against you.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not giving up that easily. These oranges won’t defeat me.” Picking an orange up off of the ground, she shook it at the sky before placing it in the bin. “I can’t decide which is worse, picking them off the ground once the shaker has passed or climbing up in a ladder and hand picking each one. There has to be an easier way.”

  “Actually, there is. They’re called canopy shakers. Tractors run up and down the rows towing the contraption. It looks like a round hairbrush, and the rods run into the branches, shaking and turning to get the tree to release the fruit. The fruit is then caught and deposited in a bin that is contained in the same unit.”

  Her mouth hung open. “Why on Earth aren’t you using that instead?”

  “We do at our other locations. We’re in the process of transferring over to those harvesting units, but there aren’t enough yet to harvest all of our trees, so we’re stuck using the shakers until we fully transition.” He grinned at her. “Aren’t you so glad you volunteered?”

  “Absolutely.” She rubbed her back but smiled in return. “Where else could I get a workout like this?”

  “Gym?”

  “No way. My psycho Pilates instructor has nothing on harvesting.”

  “Perhaps you should be paying me instead of her.” Her eyes narrowed. Laughing, he continued to store oranges in the receptacle.

  “Grant,” a man around his fifties approached, his skin weathered from too much time in the sun. “Heard you were harvesting today. Need any extra help?”

  Standing up, Grant shook the man’s hand with a wide smile. “Of course. We’ll always accept help around here.”

  “Looks like you have a few new helpers this year.” The man winked at Natalie, and she smiled back. There was nothing lascivious in the man’s gesture.

  “The newbie is Natalie Cohen. She wanted to see what a harvest was like.”

  “Careful Grant, you want her to come back, don’t you?”

  Grant chuckled. “Natalie, this is Adam Landry. He owns Sun Valley Orchard just south of us.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Adam.” She leaned back on her heels. “Do you normally lend a hand at harvest time? I’d assume you’d be too busy with your own.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. We grow a different type of orange that we harvest in late October instead of September like Grant here.”

  “It’s a tradition to help the other orchards,” Grant said. “That way everyone has the help they need.”

  “That’s great. It would be nearly impossible to accomplish this on your own.”

  “I keep trying to get Grant to sell to me. But he seems determined to dig in. I figured I might as well help him while I’m waiting him out.” Adam turned to Grant with a questioning brow. “Or are you ready to sell now. I’m happy to take over the rest of the harvest for you.”

  Grant laughed. “Keep trying, Landry. But the answer will always be no.”

  “A man has to ask.” Landry shrugged while grinning. “Where do you want us?”

  “Why don’t you and your men take the row over. We’ll alternate rows as we go.”

  “Sounds great. See you two later.” Adam saluted the group before barking out orders to his waiting men.

  In the hours that passed, Natalie was astounded by the differences between the two orchard owners. Adam was loud, direct, almost harsh in how he handled his men. He didn’t trust them to accomplish anything without looking over their shoulders. Whereas Grant was much more relaxed and trusting of his employees. Without knowing, she would pick him out as the leader. Grant had that certain quality that made others stand up and listen to him.

  Once given an instruction, he knew his men would carry it out to the letter. Carlos, the foreman, seemed more than capable of handling everything, but he still checked in for final approval from Grant.

  Seeing Grant in action throughout the day impressed her. He had authority, but didn’t abuse it.

  He was quick with instructions, but even faster when delivering praise. His men respected him, giving Grant their full attention when he spoke, rushing to do his bidding once his directions were dispensed. They never questioned, never hesitated. And in return, Grant didn’t hover.

  Eying Adam, she couldn’t apply any of those admirable characteristics to him.

  “Is Adam always so…” she trailed off, at a loss for how to describe him.

  “Overbearing?” he supplied. “Yes, he is. He runs his orchard old school. No shakers of any kind. Only one hundred percent hand picking. Directs with a strong hand. He doesn’t agree with any improvements in technology.”

  “I see. How long has he been running his orchard?”

  “His family has owned it for almost thirty years, and he took over running it about ten years ago. He was raised here same as me.”

  Moving from tree to tree, groups of workers gathering the fallen oranges, Natalie felt contentment settle within her. Her back ached, but with the sun shining on her face, the warmth seeping into her skin, she relaxed. The repetitive motions were comforting as her body loosened, gliding with the movements.

  She kept her eyes on Grant, studying him as he interacted with the workers. Working alongside his employees was something not every owner would do. That was evident in the way Adam Landry oversaw his workers instead of gathering the oranges with them.

  She knew it would never occur to Grant to behave in such a way. The land was his. And she was beginning to understand that he was a part of it as well.

  The night began to close in on them, and while she felt the strains of the day, another ache had started to swell within her.

  Her mouth watered as Grant arched, stretching the tight muscles in his arms and back, the muscles bunching with the movement. He was breathtaking. The sweat and dirt that covered every inch of him appealed to her, intrigued her.

  She was honest with herself when it came to men. She enjoyed them, appreciated their company, but never in her life had she wanted someone as much as she wanted Grant.

  “I think we’re pretty much wrapped up for the night. Tomorrow will be another long day.” He gave her a tired smile. “I won’t lie. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. I’m impressed.”

  Her lips curved. “I told you I wasn’t going to let oranges defeat me.”

  “So you did.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make you dinner. I have a guest bathroom you are welcome to shower in.”

  “Thanks. It will be nice to wash off the grime.”

  “Do you have something to change into?”

  She shook her head. “No. It didn’t even cross my mind that I’d need it.”

  “I did warn you it would be messy.”

  “Yes. Yes you did.” Her smile was rueful.

  His eyes crinkled. “I think I can scrounge something for you to wear while we throw your clothes in the washing machine.”

  The sun was almost down by the time they made it back into the house. “Here’s some extra towels.” He opened the cupboard below the sink, showing her the fluffy cream towels. “Are you sure this robe is okay? I don’t think any of my pants will fit you, but I might be able to find something else.” He looked doubtful though.

  “This is
great.” The soft midnight blue terrycloth was plush against her fingers.

  “Take as much time as you need. I’ll start dinner once I clean up.”

  “Thank you.” Reaching for him, she brought her lips to his in a firm kiss. When she pulled back, she was pleased to see his eyes hazy.

  “Uh, you’re welcome.” He shook his head. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything,” he said before stepping out of the room and heading down the hall.

  She leaned against the back of the door after locking it.

  Eyes closed, she took a heavy breath. She could handle the physical attraction to Grant, but she was beginning to struggle with the fact that she liked him as a person. He was kind, generous, and never expected anything in return. He was someone to admire. But she couldn’t afford to admire him. She was in deeper than was safe.

  As she stepped into the shower, she realized she wasn’t going to turn back. She wasn’t going to turn away from him just because she was a little more involved than what was comfortable.

  She was already in the rabbit hole. It was time to enjoy the ride.

  Breathe. In and now out. I can do this, Grant thought.

  Imagining Natalie in the shower, her skin all rosy, was more than he could handle. Just thinking of her slipping on the robe that had been against his own skin shot a shiver down his spine.

  He had to stop thinking about it. The woman had worked like a slave in his orchard. Never complaining, never asking to leave. And she hadn’t even gotten paid for it.

  Maybe he should offer to pay her?

  Idiot. Of course not. Even with his brain foggy, he knew that would be a mistake.

  What had he been thinking, offering to cook her dinner?

  He hadn’t been thinking. Havesting had exhausted him, allowing him to give into his desire to keep her close. But he didn’t feel exhausted any more.

  He needed to feed her quickly and push her out the door.

  Nicely, of course. He didn’t want her to think he was ungrateful. He just knew he couldn’t be around her for very long before he lost his restraint.

  Resting his hands against the counter, he leaned, hanging his head while trying to calm his body. He cared about her, liked her. She wasn’t someone he wanted to tumble and walk away from. She deserved more than that.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” He turned toward her, offering a smile. “Just a little tired.” He could have laughed.

  Her smile was sympathetic. “It was a long day, wasn’t it? Is harvesting always so strenuous?” She moved to a chair before lounging comfortably.

  “It never gets easier. Your body may get stronger, but that still doesn’t make it better.” Unable to stop himself, he moved toward her, the glint in her eyes drawing him in. He rubbed her shoulders through the soft robe. “You did well today. You must be sore.”

  “Only a little. We designers are made of sterner stuff.” She moaned. “Oh, that feels so good.”

  “You’re going to be much sorer tomorrow.”

  “Right now, this feels too good to care. You’re very good at this.” She arched under his touch.

  Jumping away from her as if burned, he blindly turned toward the kitchen. “Any requests for dinner?”

  “You don’t need to cook anything.”

  “It’s the least I can do. I appreciated your help today. I almost feel guilty.”

  He heard the soft chuckle as she stepped toward him. “I enjoyed it. It was worth it to see you in your element.”

  He could feel her body near his, his nerves tingling with her proximity. Turning to face her, he tried to look casual as he leaned against the counter, but his hands betrayed him, gripping the counter behind him.

  Her mouth quirked, eyes smoldering.

  “So… dinner?” he asked, his voice straining.

  She shook her head softly, taking another step toward him.

  “Natalie,” he groaned. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing this, I’m not going to be able to control myself. You must be exhausted.”

  “Do I look exhausted?”

  She trapped him, looping her arms around his waist. The shock that surged through him made him jolt. “You’re not making this easy. I was going to make you dinner, then rush you out the door.”

  She shook her head softly. “I don’t think so. Is that really what you want?”

  “What do you think?”

  She toyed with her lip, the movement mesmerizing him. “I think you want me. You want me every bit as much as I want you.”

  Hearing her desire freed the beast inside him.

  He took her lips quickly, impatiently, enraptured by the first taste of sweetness. Holding her close, he relished the feel of her, the way she melted into him as he kissed her over and over again.

  “I love the way you taste,” he said before taking her lips again. “I love the way you smell, the way you move, the way you think.”

  She trembled, bringing forth the need to soothe her. He slowed, sampling her in short, soft kisses instead of greedy gulps.

  She was potent, smooth. Her taste lingered in his senses, his head. His soul.

  He sensed a change in her, a slow slide into something stronger than lust. His heart recognized it, leaping at the possibility that she might feel something more than just the chemistry between them.

  He wanted her. He wanted to take her here, in this kitchen, without a moment’s hesitation. But it wasn’t right for them. She needed more. He needed to give her more. Show her that there was more between them than a sparking flash of lust.

  He eased away from her, rubbing her cherry lips as her eyes fluttered open.

  “Why?” He knew what she was asking. Why were they stopping.

  “Because it’s not the right time.”

  A frown creased her brow. He thought she might argue, but she finally nodded, looking at him with affection.

  He pulled her into him, cradling her with his body. They stood there. Barefoot in the kitchen, holding each other while the rhythm of their hearts slowed together.

  “Come on,” he said, running his hands up and down her back before stepping away. “I should probably get some food in you.”

  Heaving a long-suffering sigh, she adjusted the belt on her robe as she teased, “If you insist.”

  “I do,” he grinned, loving her reaction.

  She leaned forward for a soft kiss. “I’m going to check on the laundry while you start.”

  Watching her hips sway, her curves hidden beneath the soft layer of his robe, made him ache, made him feel possessive of her.

  He wanted to hold her, kiss her, keep her in his arms. Mark her as his in every way possible.

  Opening the fridge, he paused. His?

  Mentally, he took a step back, examining his feelings. How had things moved so quickly? This depth of want was something he had never experienced.

  He enjoyed women, thought they were wonderful and perfect in their differences from men, but he had never wanted a long-lasting relationship with one in particular.

  But thinking of Natalie, seeing her walk through his house, wearing his clothes, helping him in the orchard, kissing her in the kitchen, he knew he wanted her for the long haul.

  Settling eggs and milk on the counter, he took a deep breath.

  This was moving too quickly. It would be so easy to scare her away.

  She had already made her position perfectly clear. No attachments, no relationship, nothing serious. She didn’t want a man to take care of her. And although his mind and body were telling him to do just that, he knew she didn’t need him. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But that didn’t lessen his desire to care for her.

  Cracking eggs in a bowl, he added the milk, then a little cinnamon before whisking them all together.

  He needed to play this out casually. If he pushed too hard, she would only push back until he lost her. And as each minute went by, he accepted that he wanted her in his life. That he would do whatever he c
ould to convince her to stay with him.

  * * *

  She found one of Grant’s shirts in the laundry room and decided to use it as a makeshift dress with her own belt cinched at the waist. It would suffice, at least until her own clothes were ready. Plus, her legs looked amazing. She grinned. Poor Grant.

  The smile that curved his mouth when she walked back into the room had her wondering what he was thinking about.

  Slipping her arms around him from behind as he dipped thick slices of white bread into the egg batter before transferring them to the hot griddle, she placed a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re very handsome when you smile.”

  She could imagine his smile flashing again. “Thank you.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  There was a pause as he expertly flipped their dinner. “How good you looked in my robe.”

  “I enjoyed wearing it.”

  “Enjoyed?” He glanced over his shoulder, taking in her new outfit. “That looks way better on you than it does me.” He fully turned toward her, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. “I’m glad you stayed.”

  He gathered her up, holding her close against his chest. The intimacy of his embrace overwhelmed her. She nodded, unable to speak.

  He reached for her chin, slowly raising her face until her eyes connected with his.

  “Me too.” Another soft kiss.

  “Good.” He kissed her nose.

  Warmth spread through her, and she stepped away from him and the intimacy that was beginning to overwhelm her. It was too much. Too fast. She needed to get them back on track. Ignoring the way his eyes lost a little of their light, she sent him an overly cheerful smile. “That smells fantastic.”

  He grinned before turning toward the stove. “I figured it was something tasty and easy.” He shoveled a few pieces onto the two plates on the counter before carrying them to the table.

  “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Mine too.”

  They dug into the hot, fragrant food, the mixture of sugary syrup with a bite of egg had them sighing in appreciation.

  “Why does everything you cook amaze me? This French toast…” She scooped up another bite with relish.

 

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