Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire

by Rebecca M. Avery

  Mia cleared her throat, closed her hand around her phone and squeezed hard. “I’m not going to say anything stupid this time.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Because announcing you weren’t going to say something stupid wasn’t at all stupid.

  Where was an apocalypse when you needed one?

  “Glad to hear it.” There was humor in his voice and when she looked up, he was still smiling, but it was a smile that made her return it. His fingertip touched the tip of her ear, curved down. A light touch. Simple enough her mind shouldn’t be galloping ahead to where he might touch next and what she would be supposed to do in return.

  It was a dizzying mix of nerves and excitement and uncertainty and want.

  “You look good at dawn,” he said, his voice low, feathering across her forehead.

  “Well, you do, too.” Her heart leaped into her throat and she couldn’t force another word out. Which was probably really good or she’d say something like, want to make out in the barn a bit? She’d really like to know what making out was like. Even if she did something stupid, because Dell seemed really good at ignoring or humoring her stupid.

  Instead, Dell leaned his head down and—

  A horn blasting cut him off. They both looked to see her dad’s truck bouncing up the path from the cow barn.

  Mia swallowed. Okay, this was probably going to get weird. Dad pulled his truck to a stop next to Dell’s. Slowly, he lumbered over to them.

  Dad was never in a hurry, and it had never made her nervous until this very minute.

  “Morning,” he offered.

  “Morning,” Dell replied, taking a very obvious step away from Mia. “I don’t think we’ve met, Mr. Pruitt. I’m Dell Wainwright. I’m pretty sure you know my dad.” He held out a hand, and it hovered there. In the air. Unreciprocated.

  Dad stood there, hands in his pockets, thoughtfully working the chew around in his mouth as he studied Dell’s hand. Mia wished to God he would say something. Anything. Please just anything.

  “Yup.” Finally Dad pulled one hand free of his pockets and shook Dell’s hand.

  She let out an audible sigh of relief. Her cheeks were on fire with embarrassment so she turned to the truck.

  “We should get going, Dad. Did you have a chance to look around? Hasn’t been light for very long, but I’ve got to get to the market.”

  “Some damage. Might be a slow few weeks, but replanting will get you back on track. Money’ll be tight.”

  Mia snuck a glance at Dell. His jaw was set. Was he comparing that response to his own father’s? She wondered if he was being too hard on his father, if Mr. Wainwright might understand. She wondered a lot of things, and they all uncomfortably had to do with Dell.

  “Hey, guys.” Anna walked around the corner of the barn. She had her milking boots on and her perfectly wavy blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. “You mind giving me a ride? Cara was going to pick me up, but if you’re already here…”

  “You’re coming?”

  “Face painting, remember?” Anna grinned. “Besides, everybody wants to see the battle of the sexes. Even the kids at school are talking about it.”

  Dad returned to his truck without a word or a goodbye. He’d never cared for words like “sexes.”

  “Um, well.”

  “You don’t mind, do you, Dell?” Anna bulldozed on. “Just give me a second to get my paints and shoes. Be right back.” She didn’t even wait for an answer, just jogged away to the house.

  “Sorry. I…” Mia shook her head. “My family’s kind of weird.”

  He chuckled. “Join the club.” His expression sobered. “Forgot about the battle of the sexes thing.”

  “Yeah.” Mia frowned down at her boots. Even without the kiss, she felt bad about going after Dell’s business now. He needed the sales a lot more than she did.

  Except, she was a businesswoman. She had a business to run, too, and the hail damage could hurt her. If she worried about every farmer who was worse off, helped every guy struggling to make ends meet at the expense of her own business, she’d be done. Even if Dad left her everything, she needed an income to keep that everything going.

  Mia looked up at Dell’s face, met his gaze. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. That this was a mistake. Too complicated. Getting involved put them at odds with their own lifeblood. Lifeblood they both loved more than just about anything else.

  “Mia, maybe we should—”

  “Anna’s coming,” Mia interrupted, cursing her sister’s hurrying as Anna squelched through the mud a few yards away.

  “Guess we’ll talk about it later, huh?”

  Mia nodded. “Guess so.” Just what she needed. More time to think about it.

  * * *

  The minute Dell got to the farmer’s market, Charlie was already there in bitch mode.

  “Getting too cheap to even give me a ride now, huh?” Charlie glanced at Mia briefly. “Hey, Mia.” Then he did a double take. “You two ride together?”

  Mia’s cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink that somehow prompted Dell to think about what other things might make her blush.

  So not the time. “Mia had some hail damage to her windshield, so I gave her a ride.”

  “Oh.” Charlie drew the word out like it explained everything. Dell wanted to laugh because it didn’t explain a damn thing.

  What was he doing? He didn’t have a clue. The reminder of the battle of the sexes brought it all home. All the things he’d kind of ignored the past twelve hours.

  She was trying to steal his customers. Maybe that was harsh, but having these little competitions every week had been her idea, in a way, and it was going to earn her customers. He shouldn’t blame her, couldn’t really when he caught her looking at him all cute and nervous.

  Shit. He was so screwed. Screwed because the things he felt about Mia weren’t the things he usually felt about a woman. He didn’t just want to sleep with her—he wanted to hang out with her, because when he did, he didn’t feel like the idiot Wainwright. Even as smart as he knew she was, she didn’t act like he was the pretty face incapable of “intellectually stimulating” anything, as Corrie had once accused him. When they talked about farm stuff, Mia treated him like an equal.

  With her, he didn’t think about not being able to get through to his dad. He just felt…comfortable. Good.

  That was a really sticky place to be in right now. He pushed his cap up on his head, rubbed his forehead. It took him a few minutes to realize Charlie was staring at him expectantly.

  “What?”

  “This is usually about the time you start whipping off clothes and women line up to mindlessly buy your cabbage—which is not a euphemism. I hope.”

  “Right.” Dell snuck a look at Mia, who was chatting with an elderly woman over a bunch of beets.

  Whether or not he pursued this thing with Mia couldn’t change his business tactics. If she didn’t like it, well, that would be the end of whatever weird thing they had going on.

  Dell pulled off his shirt and put his salesman hat on. He wasn’t going to be satisfied unless he sold every last turnip green.

  An hour in and he hadn’t let himself look at Mia once. Whenever he got the urge, he went and restocked a pallet or took a walk around his side of the aisle, chatting up customers.

  Val approached. “Hey, Dell, honey, how’s it going?” She unnecessarily patted his bare arm. “That storm was a nasty one. You come through all right?”

  “It was tough, but we’ll be fine. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

  She swatted at him playfully. “You ready for our battle of the sexes? I put on Facebook we’d start at eleven.” Val gestured to encompass the entire market. “I can already tell we have more people than usual.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Push-ups again?”

  “Actually, Farrah and I were talking about making the events more farm-y and maybe doing this every week? Mia agreed.”

  Dell glanced at Mia’s booth. She was smiling at some guy
in a chef’s coat. A chef’s coat. Where the hell did the guy think he was, on one of those competition cooking shows?

  “Dell?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Whenever she is.” He didn’t care for the jealousy burning in his gut, but that didn’t make it go away. Maybe he’d channel it and kick her nice little ass in this stupid battle.

  “You’re so screwed,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “Whatever you do, don’t beat her too bad. You’ll never have another female customer again.”

  “Whatever. Watch the booth.” He followed Val to a truck full of hay bales.

  “Help me up, honey?”

  Dell helped Val up into the bed of the truck where she pulled out a megaphone and began announcing the battle of the sexes competition.

  “Last week we had a push-up tie. This week, we wanted to see these two flex their farm muscles. They each have ten bales of hay. Whoever loads their ten bales into the appropriate truck in the parking lot first, wins this week’s battle of the sexes.”

  Mia smiled at him, pulling a pair of gloves out of her back pocket. “You know this isn’t fair, right?”

  Dell tried to smile back, but the chef guy was standing by the Pruitt stand…watching.

  “Don’t you think men and women are equals, sugar?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you recall, I told you not to call me that.”

  This time Dell grinned. Val stepped between them before he could offer another comment to get her back up. Val told them which truck to put their bales in, then made a big show about placing them on either side of the full truck bed.

  A crowd had indeed gathered, but Dell couldn’t take his focus off the stupid white chef coat. Asshole.

  Val announced the event one more time into the bullhorn and then gave them an “on your marks, get set, go!”

  Dell focused on the task at hand. It was no easy feat moving the bales. It didn’t just require strength, but dexterity in maneuvering an awkward square of hay around cars and people.

  His muscles were screaming and his breath coming in quick spurts when he hefted the last bale into the truck bed. He looked around for Mia. She was scowling, a few yards behind him.

  He’d won. Ha. Of course, that might not equal customers. Shit. Dell trudged back to the start of the race and sank onto the ground, wiping his forehead with his arm. Jesus, he was spent.

  A few minutes later, Mia collapsed next to him and Val declared him the winner.

  “I’m going to kick your ass next week,” she huffed. The guy in the chef coat waved as he walked to his hybrid car.

  A fucking hybrid.

  Mia waved in return, and the jealous burn was back. “Bet your chef friend can’t do that, sweetheart.”

  Mia laughed between huffed breaths. “He’s the chef at Edibles. I’m a supplier. He was on his way to work and wanted to make sure his produce was going to be okay after the storm.” She stood and bent over, giving him an ample peek down her shirt. She patted his cheek. “But you don’t know what a confidence booster a little jealousy is.”

  Then Mia sauntered back to the Pruitt booth, like she was something special.

  Damn it, he was beginning to think she really was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mia settled into Saturday night with approximately five loads of laundry that needed folding. Exciting evening, indeed.

  She poured herself a glass of wine first. No reason she couldn’t have a little fanciness in her otherwise boring evening.

  Since this was Cara’s third date with Kevin, Mia didn’t anticipate her sister coming home tonight. So it was just Mia and her laundry.

  When someone knocked on the door, she jumped. It was so unexpected, some of the wine sloshed onto her hand. And then her stomach jittered a bit at the prospect of an unannounced visitor.

  Maybe it was Dell. Between Cara, Anna, Charlie and Val all vying for her attention after the market was over, they hadn’t managed to get two words alone. So now she didn’t know where they stood.

  Except that he’d been jealous over Sam. And she’d come up with the perfect exit line.

  Ten points for Mia.

  “Just a second,” she called, running her fingers through her hair, tucking her oversized T-shirt into her jeans so it looked less schlumpy. When she looked out the peephole her excitement deflated.

  She undid the lock and opened the door. “Hey, Mom. Dad.” Since her dad never left the farm except for church and supplies he couldn’t send one of the girls for, anxiety replaced disappointment. “Is everything okay?”

  Her mom stepped into the apartment, giving her a warm hug. “Of course, dear, but your father got this wild hair you absolutely had to have your truck back tonight.” Mom looked around the room. “See, Franklin, she’s doing her laundry.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue.

  Dad poked around the apartment. Unusual for him. Normally he just sat on the couch itching to get back to his cows and solitude.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “So, you don’t have any company tonight?”

  “What company would I have?” And then it dawned on her. Dad had seen her with Dell this morning. Mia glanced at her mother, who was poking around the refrigerator. Surely he hadn’t told her or she’d be lecturing Mia about the evil dangers of men she and Dad hadn’t approved.

  Which was none of them.

  “Where’s Cara? Her car is outside. And are you drinking? Alone? Oh, my Heavens!” Mom’s hands fluttered to her throat.

  “Cara’s out on a date with Kevin. I am having one glass of wine. Neither is the end of the world.” Why did she bother trying? Mom was already halfway to anxiety-ville.

  “Who is Kevin? I’ve never heard of him. What’s his last name? Do I know his family? What church do they go to? Oh, I am calling your sister right this instant.” Mom pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She barely knew how to use it, but enough to badger her daughters if she got a whiff of something she didn’t approve of.

  “Cara? This is your mother. You answer this phone immediately.” Mom wandered down the hall, preferring privacy for her badgering.

  Mia studied Dad, who looked at the floor scratching his bearded cheek. “Dad, what are you guys doing here? Really?”

  “Brought your truck back.”

  “I’m not stupid. You know I could have picked it up tomorrow. I could have had it fixed myself.”

  Dad hunched his shoulders. “Can’t I do a favor for my daughter?”

  “Daddy.”

  “I don’t like that boy,” he grumbled.

  “Who? Kevin?”

  Dad scowled at her. “Dell Wainwright. Heard at church last week they call him the Naked Farmer. You’re a good girl. You shouldn’t be…” Dad cleared his throat. His entire face was red from the roots of his hair to his beard.

  Mia smiled. Well, at least she knew where she got that from. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I thought I didn’t have to worry about you. Then I saw the way you were looking at him. Don’t like it. Not one bit.”

  “I’m an adult. I make my own choices.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Trust me to make the right ones, okay? I can only stand one parent questioning my every move.”

  He made a huffing sound. “You got the biggest brains out of all our children, but you also…” He cleared his throat, fiddled with his beard. “You’ve got the softest heart. Always did. You named all the cows and cried for two weeks every time we lost one or sold one or killed one.”

  Mia wrinkled her nose. Okay, that was true. But her heart wasn’t involved when it came to Dell.

  She didn’t think.

  “I’ll make the right choices. I promise.”

  “Well, you always do.” He slapped her truck keys on the counter. “Don’t let that boy change that.”

  “Your sister.” Mom stomped up the hallway. “She’s ignoring my calls! Do you know where they went? I want to know more about this Kevin boy. I—”

  “Come
on, Sarah. We did what we came to do. Let’s go home.”

  “Are you joking? Your daughter is—”

  “Grown. Come on, now.”

  Mom and Dad argued out the door, but before Dad closed it behind him he rolled his eyes. “Love you, pumpkin.”

  Mia smiled. He hadn’t called her pumpkin since she’d lived at home. “Love you, too.”

  Once the door was closed, she sank into a kitchen chair and then took a long, deep drink of her wine.

  It was weird—everyone seemed to think of Dell as this bad boy. Someone to be wary of. She didn’t see it. Even when he’d been annoying her with the shirtless stuff at the beginning of the season, she’d never considered him mean or dangerous.

  What was she getting so worked up about? At this point all her and Dell shared was one kiss, a few not-so-innocent touches, and not much else. For all she knew he’d pretend none of it had ever happened next Saturday. It’s not like they’d made plans otherwise. Even for sharing a ride next market day.

  She thunked her head on the table. For once she was kind of grateful she’d never had a relationship. If this was what they were all like she was due for an aneurism by her thirtieth birthday.

  Another knock on the door. Mia groaned, then downed the rest of her wine. If she was going to handle Mom the rest of the night, she needed something.

  She opened the door, stopped short when she realized it wasn’t her parents.

  It was Dell.

  She coughed as her last swallow of wine went down the wrong way.

  “Hey.” He’d looked grim when she first opened the door, but his lips curved upward. “Okay?”

  She nodded furiously, eyes still watering. “Wrong pipe.” Holy crap. He was standing in her doorway, all impressive height and broad shoulders. He was dressed in nice jeans and had a leather coat on. No baseball hat to be seen, just wavy blond hair looking golden under the porch light.

  And she was standing there in an old T-shirt and jeans. Well, at least the jeans were a pair of her new ones that actually fit. Cara had thrown out all the other ones.

  “So, um, you busy?” He looked over her head into the apartment.