by Haley Travis
chuckled. “Sorry about that. There was a storm two nights ago, and the rough spots have
shifted. I have to relearn where they all are.”
“I guess things really change with the weather out here,” I said, staring out the dusty
windshield as a cluster of buildings grew closer.
“Don’t worry, most of the storms aren’t too bad. There are only a handful of big trees near the buildings, so there’s not much that can snap off. It does get windy as hell though, so
when you feel a storm coming, gather your tools and head indoors quickly.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You can feel a storm coming? Is that like the old stories of
grandpa’s knee starting to ache before there’s an earthquake?”
Dean shot me a grin as he pulled into the driveway, rolling up beside a long, low building
next to a giant farmhouse. “Don’t worry, city girl. You’ll learn to smell the rain before it hits you.”
Another warm prickle ran through me from the way he spoke. He was so comfortable.
Natural. One of those confident men who could just take care of everything. It was
reassuring, but it also made it hard to stop staring at his beautiful eyes.
He jumped out of the truck and had darted around to my side before I could even get the
door completely open. He took my hand to help me jump down – such an innocent gesture,
but I was so inexperienced with men that even holding his hand for a few seconds made my
belly twitch.
Shutting the door behind me, Dean grabbed my suitcase and led me to the third door of the
strange plain building that looked rather like a motel.
Walking right in, he set my suitcase on the bed, then took a small lanyard from a hook on
the wall. “The silver key is for this room,” he explained, “And the brass key is for the front door of the farmhouse. That door should never be locked, but sometimes you urban folks
are accidentally on autopilot,” he laughed.
Placing the slim blue rope around my neck, the keys landed against my t-shirt right between
my breasts. “We’ve also had too many people losing their keys out in the fields,” he
continued, “So it’s just easier if everyone wears them.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Your room is private,” he said, gesturing to the fairly small but spotless space. “Bed, desk, washroom. I can’t imagine you need more than that.”
He looked at me, holding my eyes for a moment. “Miriam said that you’re a writer?”
“Yes. I mean, I’m just starting. But I’m finishing a book of poetry while I’m here.”
His grin made my pulse quicken. “Feel free to write at your desk here, or go up on the
porch of the farmhouse anytime you like. It goes all the way around the house, and there
are benches and tables, so you could watch the sunrise or sunset. Just in case you need
some inspiration.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “That’s a great idea.”
“Since it’s your first day, you’ll be on supper duty.” He glanced at the little clock on the bedside table. “Supper is at six o’clock every night. So you’re due in the kitchen at five,
which gives you twenty minutes to settle in.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t realize that farmers were on such a strict
schedule.”
His deep laugh filled the tiny room. He seemed to take up most of the space just by
standing still. “We’ve got four farmhands, plus several guests at any time,” he said. “The
only way to keep the herd under control is to have a system so that everyone knows what’s
going on.”
Setting my laptop bag down on the bed, I nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty hard to call
people in for dinner if they’re a mile away.”
“Exactly.” Dean gave me a nod and headed for the door. “I’ll see you at dinner, Joanna. Just
walk into the house at five, and listen for Miriam. Trust me, you can’t miss her.”
The second he shut the door, I laid across the bed and took a few slow breaths while
looking around the room that was my home for the next little while. Everything was very
neutral, sort of like a nice hotel. But there were sweet homey touches like the antique clock, and the brass bedside lamp with a hand-painted shade.
It was very comfortable, and having a space of my own was going to be a treat. Not that I
didn’t enjoy spending time with my roommate, but once in a while it was nice to be
completely alone.
I had told myself that this vacation would be perfect to completely focus and get my writing
done. Dean was so gorgeous, so charming and comfortable to be around, that I wasn’t
sure whether I should hope we spent a lot of time together or not.
He would definitely be a giant distraction. But in some strange way, even though I’d just met
him, I was fairly relaxed with him. Above all else, I was certainly intrigued.
CHAPTER TWO
* Dean *
When I felt a tiny spark shaking Joanna’s hand, I told myself it was a complete fluke. When
I felt a giant spark through my entire body when I took her hand to help her out of the truck, I forced myself to ignore it.
I promised myself years ago after a round of barely adequate dating that I would never
bother with a relationship if it wasn’t real. It wasn’t worth it. A young woman who was just
figuring out what she was doing with her life might not be ready for a real relationship. I
didn’t want to fall too hard, then watch her leave since I couldn’t give her what she needed.
None of my coworkers had ever teased me about how sensitive I was, because I would
never let them know. I had loved far too easily a few times, and now I had my guard up. Or
at least, I thought I did. Watching Joanna’s bright, curious eyes stirred things inside me that I thought were long gone.
It had been nearly nine years since I’d really touched a woman, and I’d never had any
trouble keeping my hands to myself until I was in her bedroom. The urge to push her back
onto the bed and devour her whole was nearly overwhelming.
I thought I was a man who was afraid of nothing. Yet that reaction almost made me
nervous. No matter. I would keep my distance and treat her like any other guest.
After quickly sharpening a couple of tools out in the barn, I went to my tiny room at the back of the main house to have a quick shower before supper. I realized that I was rushing more
than usual, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.
My feet hustled to the dining room ten minutes early. Sticking my head into the enormous
kitchen, Miriam was showing three young ladies the mystical secrets of her salad dressing.
The girls were hanging on her every word, entranced. Everyone loved Miriam – she was an
engaging sort of drama queen who thrived on an audience. She was also the hardest
working, most down to earth person that anyone would ever meet. Her kitchy flowered
aprons and cheesy decor like the giant hummingbird clock shared her quirky sense of
humor immediately. A glittering daisy hair clip shone from atop her light brown bun that was
becoming more heavily streaked with white every year.
Joanna’s light laugh was easily distinguishable from the other sounds in the room. She had
her long, dark hair pulled back now, her tidy ponytail waving gently down her back. This
made her face look even more delicate. She had changed into a long dress, which showed
off her round hips even more than her shorts had earlier
.
I realized that I hadn’t told her that dinner was completely informal here, yet she had tidied up and dressed for the occasion. I’m not sure why that struck me as completely endearing.
Miriam caught me watching them, and crooked her finger at me. “Dean, you can be the judge,” she said, flashing me a saucy wink.
The other two guests, Lindsay and Britney, were both giggling blonds who seemed
incredibly flighty. But they’d seemed to take instructions well over the past week. Strolling
in, I peered into the tiny bowls of salad dressing.
“There are very mixed ideas in this kitchen today,” Miriam said. “Dean, which showcases
the herbs best?”
I knew that Miriam was looking to add a line of salad dressings to the jams, preserves, and
sauces that the farm already sold. Even though she made light of it, she had been using our
guests as taste testers.
Picking up each bowl, I took a sniff before grabbing a fresh spoon for a taste. “These are
all quite good,” I said, “But the last one tastes more… Green. I think the rosemary and basil
are shown off a bit more.”
Joanna looked up at me with the sweetest smile I’d ever seen in my life. At that moment,
the brick wall I’d built around my heart began to crumble. I wasn’t quite sure whether to be
happy or worried.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
Miriam patted the other two girls on the shoulders. “Don’t worry, ladies. Tomorrow is
another day. We can play mad scientist until the cows come home.” She giggled like a
schoolgirl, betraying her sixty-plus years. “But thankfully, we don’t have cows. I certainly
don’t want to shovel up after them. Let’s get the table set.”
The ladies scurried away, and Miriam shot me a look. “I’m sorry there’s only three over the
next two days,” she said. “We had two musicians booked, but both guys were in the same
band and suddenly got called off to a tour.”
I nodded. Miriam tried to always keep a balance between men and women here. Partly
because it was good for the conversational flow, keeping things light. But men usually had
more upper body strength for hauling vegetables, whereas women had more nimble,
precise fingers and a better eye for picking at the perfect ripeness.
“So you’ll need me to pick up the slack with the heavy lifting,” I said, shooting her a
sideways glance.
Miriam stepped back from the counter, placing both hands on her ample hips. “I suppose
you’ll be expecting your usual payment?”
I nodded seriously, watching out of the corner of my eye as Joanna ducked into the room to
fetch napkins. “In fact,” I said sternly, “I think I might require double the usual amount.”
Miriam stepped back, fanning herself. “You wouldn’t. You monster.”
Joanna backed out of the room, looking at me strangely. “I’m serious,” I said as coldly as I could without smirking. “Both lemon meringue and pumpkin, or I’ll take a vacation day.”
The back of Miriam’s hand flew up to her forehead. “The horror,” she gasped. Then she
broke down laughing. “Thanks, Dean. I’m glad that I can always count on you.”
Joanna had scurried off, but as I walked into the dining room, I saw that she was trying to
hold back a laugh. I also noticed that as I sat at the end of the table while everyone filed in, she was left with the empty spot beside me.
As she pulled her chair in, her beautiful blue eyes turned up to mine. “She pays you for
overtime in pie?” she giggled, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “It’s the only way to deal with these greedy farm
owners,” I said. “You have to lay down the law and make a fair deal.”
“So it’s going to be a lot harder for you, since there are only girls helping,” she said softly.
“I’m stronger than I look.”
My hand reached out to pat her knee without even thinking. “That’s very sweet of you. But
the picking is slower work, and that’s really what we need the most help with. Don’t worry,
we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
Pulling my hand away slowly, I saw the tiniest blush creep over her cheeks. It was obvious
that she was as drawn to me as I was to her. We’d be working closely together for the next
two weeks. Somehow I was going to have to find the strength to keep my walls up, and
keep my distance.
At the same time, I would have to keep her safe. I knew how easy it was for inexperienced
people to hurt themselves, and there was absolutely no way I could allow Joanna to be
harmed in any way whatsoever. I felt strangely protective of her, and didn’t even know why.
The urge to wrap my arms around her was the deepest, strongest feeling I’d ever had.
CHAPTER THREE
* Joanna *
Even though I turned off the light at ten pm, crawling out of bed at five-thirty in the morning was uncomfortable. I didn’t think I’d ever set an alarm that early in my life.
As I brushed my teeth and tied my hair into a braid, I realized that everything felt prickly and unnatural. I’d never been an early riser, but part of this whole experience was the thrill of
new things, even if I was barely awake enough to make sense of them. Pulling on my oldest
jeans, and a long-sleeved t-shirt, I remembered to coat my face in sunscreen, and grab my
hat.
At five forty-five on the dot, I heard a tiny tap at the door. As I opened it, I was struck with both a chilly breeze and Dean’s warm smile.
“Good morning, city girl,” he grinned. I wasn’t sure whether it was the cold or his gorgeous
face that made my nipples tighten straight through my shirt and thin sports bra. I didn’t think a regular bra would be comfortable for working in a field, but hadn’t anticipated this
moment.
His eyes barely flickered to my embarrassing issue. “It’s chilly in the mornings,” he said
matter-of-factly. “You might want a sweater.”
I grabbed it from the handy hook on the wall, along with my keys. Locking the door behind
me, I threw on my lanyard and hoodie, turning to see a bright red and black four-wheeler.
“Hop on,” Dean chuckled.
He sat in front, and I awkwardly got onto the long leather seat behind him. I’d been on a
snowmobile before, and it was similar in speed and noise.
As we started to move, I bounced awkwardly until Dean reached back with one hand,
grabbing mine and wrapping it around his waist. “No seat belts, so hang on,” he said.
My chest pressed against his back as my thighs tightened on the outside of his hips. I
hoped that he didn’t think I was being forward, I was just terrified to fall off. Then I caught a whiff of his woodsy, masculine scent through his t-shirt and held him even tighter. He drove
quickly along small paths in the fields, but the ground was pretty rough. Every bump made
me dig my hands into his chiselled stomach, causing my pulse to race.
I saw a huge combine harvester working to the left, but ahead of us and to the right were
gigantic structures made of what seemed to be clear plastic.
“We’re working in a greenhouse today,” he said over the rough engine. The fresh air was
waking me up completely, and I found myself relaxing against Dean’s firm back.
After a few minutes, he drove up to the corner of the first structure. He jumped off the four-wheeler, turning to grab me by my waist and setting me down before I could even realize<
br />
what was happening. There was a box strapped to the back of the vehicle that Dean
snapped open, handing me a green water bottle.
“Veggie and protein smoothie,” he explained. “Trust me, Miriam has nutrition and timing
down to a science. First the smoothie, then coffee in ten minutes – that’s the brown bottle.
Water bottles are blue.”
“Thanks. Wow, you and Miriam have thought of everything.”
“We try to be prepared for absolutely everything since it’s a long way back if you’ve
forgotten something,” he chuckled.
I tried a sip of the smoothie, and was surprised at how delicious it was. “We drink breakfast
while we survey the morning’s work,” Dean explained. He waved to the dozens and dozens
of long, tidy rows of fluffy green sprouts. “Baby carrots are picked by hand,” he explained.
I nodded, drinking and observing. As he showed me how to determine which ones were
ready for harvesting, I knew I shouldn’t be admiring his thick arms, and the little piece of
hair that fell in a perfect curl behind his left ear.
We quickly finished our breakfast and Dean held out an arm full of baskets. He stood over
me while I started, coaching me on how to accurately guess what the bottom of the carrot
looked like by analyzing the top.
It was pretty easy once I got going. Since everything had been planted at the same time,
everything was fairly uniform. But on a small organic farm, nobody wanted to waste even a
single plant.
“What kind of music do you like?” Dean asked.
“Oh. A bit of everything, really.” I looked around, wondering why he was asking. “Rock,
blues, lots of indie bands.”
His deep laugh was absolutely charming. “There are a couple of scientific studies that show
that plants grow better with music. Something about the vibrations of the sound waves
makes them absorb nutrients. But more importantly, it keeps us moving and makes the time
seem to go faster.”
He went to a panel on the wall, and suddenly quiet music seemed to come from all
directions. It was smoky, soulful blues, which was strangely perfect for this hour of the day.
Dean worked in the row beside mine for about ten minutes keeping a close eye on me.
Then he went out to grab our coffee bottles. “Be careful, it’s hotter than you expect,” he
