by Cathryn Fox
“Hey, Capone,” she says and walks up to the cage. Capone parades around for her, and I shake my head. He absolutely loves Mom. “I have something special at the house for you. Make sure Jay brings you to dinner tonight.”
“Mom, stop talking to him like he understands.”
“He does understand.” She coos at him and gives me a disapproving side-eye. “Don’t you, Capone, my sweet boy…who never talks back?”
Okay, I get it. Guilt pushes through my veins. I gave my folks a hell of a hard time, and I hate myself for it. My father might still be alive today if I helped more during my youth. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
Capone struts some more and spreads his wings, peacocking in front of Mom, and I have to say, I find it all a little bit disturbing.
I step into my small kitchen, and I’m about to put the coffee on when an ungodly scream echoes in the vast outdoors and curdles my blood. I turn to Mom, and her eyes are wide as we stare, both of us taking a minute to process what we heard.
“Shit. I think that was Alyson.”
“Go,” Mom says, and I drop everything and cut through the path between our two farmhouses, tree branches scratching at my skin as I run to Alyson’s and find her front door open. Panic welling up inside me, I enter, but a horrid—familiar—smell assaults my senses. What the fuck?
“Alyson, where are you?” I ask. Shit, high concentrations of skunk spray can be toxic. I need to get her out of this house.
I bury my face in the crook of my arm, but my eyes sting with the nauseating, pungent scent.
“In the living room,” she calls out, coughing, and with my eyes barely open, I feel along the wall until I find her.
I try to look her over, but my eyes are so watery, I can barely see a thing. “Are you okay?”
“Skunk,” she says, but I’m already well aware of that. “He was in the kitchen when I entered, and he sprayed me and everything. Ohmigod, Jay. I’m going to be sick.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s still in here somewhere. It’s so bad, Jay.”
I reach for her and tug on her shirt. “Close your eyes and follow me outside.”
I pinch my eyes shut, then open one as I guide her through the front door and leave it open to air the place out and hopefully give the animal an escape.
“How did he get in?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She wraps her arms around me, pressing her chest to my back to hold on tighter. “I thought maybe you left the door open when you went home this morning.”
“I didn’t.” I take her farther and farther away from the house. “I went out the back and made sure it was closed behind me.”
Worry worms its way through my blood, and I’m not sure why, but my thoughts are racing back to when someone stole her clothes.
“Take a deep breath,” I say. “And open your eyes slowly.” We both gulp air, and I tear off my T-shirt and press it to her face.
“Thanks,” she says and sniffs.
“We need to get you out of these clothes and cleaned up.”
“I am not going back into that house.”
“No, you’re not. Come with me.” I take her hand and lead her back to my cottage. Mom is standing at my door, alarm all over her face.
“Oh, no, Alyson.”
“Skunk spray. Doused Alyson and her house,” I say, stating the obvious. “The skunk was inside. Can you put a concoction together?” We’ve had dogs in the past that have had run-ins with local wildlife, so we’ve always known what to do in case of skunk emergency.
“Of course. How did it get inside?” Mom asks, gripping my doorknob.
“We’re both wondering the same,” I explain, and Mom turns from us. Her footsteps sound on my wood floors, followed by that of cupboards opening and water running.
“Are you sure you didn’t leave the door open?” Alyson asks, like she’s not quite certain she believes me, but why the hell would I lie about something like that?
“I’m positive,” I say. “If someone opened your front door, it wasn’t me, and whoever did this—”
“So, you do think someone did this? You think someone actually put a skunk in my house?” She coughs into the crook of her elbow. “Why would anyone do that?”
“I don’t know.” I clench down on my jaw. We have some bad apples in town, but the idea that someone would do this to her on purpose is actually unthinkable.
“I guess someone thought it would be funny,” she says.
“I’m not laughing. It’s actually dangerous. The spray can be toxic.” I cup her elbow to reposition her. “You have to get these clothes off.” She nods. “Close your eyes and hold your breath.”
She does what I say, and I carefully peel her T-shirt over her head, tossing it far from us. “We’ll have to burn that.”
“Burn it and then bury it.” I reach for her pants and gulp when I realize her lower half is already bare, except for a very tiny pair of lace panties.
“You’re not wearing pants,” I say, stating the obvious.
“I didn’t have time to put them on.” Her normal reaction would be to come back with a smart-ass comment at my evident observation, and when she doesn’t, everything inside me softens. This last week had been hard on her and now a skunk. I’ve lived here my whole life and never once found myself in a skunk’s crosshairs. What the hell did she ever do to deserve this kind of punishment? She believes in fate, but it pisses me off that she’s been dealt a shitty hand lately. I let my gaze go lower and wince. Shit, she’s barefoot. We’ll have to tend to the soles of her feet once we get her cleaned.
“Do I have to bathe in tomato juice?” she asks, her face twisted in disgust.
“No, that masks the smell. We actually use baking soda, dishwashing liquid, and hydrogen peroxide together to get rid of it.”
Mom comes back out with a bucket and sets it on my stoop. “I’ll leave to give you privacy, and I’ll make sure my other sons stay inside until you’re done, Alyson.”
Alyson plugs her nose and breathes through her mouth. “Thank you, Mrs. Andrews,” she says, her voice coming out like she just sucked back helium.
“Oh, honey, call me Barbara.”
“Thanks, Barbara, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw everyone’s morning into chaos.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. We’ll get you all cleaned up and right as rain again. The boys will also help you scrub your place clean, and you’ll stay at the homestead until your place is liveable.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“You’re right. Tyler is always up late listening to that heavy metal music. It’s enough to wake the dead. They just don’t make music like they used to. It’s a better idea if you stay with Jay.” She waves her finger, but Alyson’s eyes blink rapidly as she tries to keep up with the conversation. “I’m glad you thought of it.”
Clearly baffled at this turn of events, Alyson says, “I…I don’t think I did.”
I glare at my mother, who won’t meet my gaze. She’s not fooling me. I know exactly what she’s up to. Putting Alyson and me in close quarters isn’t going to end up with us married. Besides, she already said she knew Alyson wasn’t my type. Or was she just fucking with me?
“Jay has a pull-out sofa and air-conditioned comforter.”
“Mom—”
“It’s settled.” With a tip of her chin, she turns and walks away.
Alyson gulps and turns to me.
“What just happened?”
“You can take my bed until your house is cleaned. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
“I know you don’t like to ask for help, but we’ve already been through that, right?” I say with a grin.
She glances at her discarded clothes. “That shirt was kin
d of itchy anyway.”
I dip a sponge into the bucket and step up to her. She smiles up at me, and my gut twists as she tries to find the best in this situation.
“We can get you new clothes,” I tell her.
“I… That skunk really freaked me out.” Her chest heaves, and she takes a deep breath.
“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Close your eyes for a sec.” I press the sponge to her hair, and it drips down her body. She quivers, and I resist the urge to pull her in for a hug. “We’ll soak you in this stuff for a bit, and it will help.”
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
“Maybe you should close the market for the day,” I suggest.
She shakes her head fast, and the solution sprays me. “No, I can’t do that.”
“You don’t always have to be stubborn, you know.”
“I am not stubborn.”
“Yeah, you are.” Before she can argue, I say, “I’ll get Beck or Tyler to work it, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She goes quiet, and I carefully and gently wash her with the solution. I move her bra straps, not wanting to miss an inch of her skin.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says.
“I never met a woman who had trouble with clothes quite the way you do,” I say, a teasing note to my tone.
“This isn’t funny,” she shoots back, but there’s a hint of laughter in her voice. Honest to God, she really is a good sport when she has every reason to be pissed off, especially if this was done on purpose.
“I never said it was.” I stand back and look her over, and my God, she’s even sexy with solution all over her.
Down, boy.
She glares at me. “You’re not supposed to be enjoying this.”
“I know.” I try not to grin but fail miserably. She’s a mess, and I should not be looking at her with lust or groaning with want.
She rolls her eyes. “Men!”
“We’re all the same, eh?” She laughs at my Canadian lingo, and I ask, “Did I miss anything?”
“No, I’m pretty soaked.” She lifts her arms and lets them flop back to her sides. “I believe you’ve now officially seen me at my worst. Hey, do you think you could use that solution on my dignity?”
Wind blows a strand of hair into her mouth, and I tug it away. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Says the man fully clothed and not reeking of skunk.”
“Stuff like this doesn’t usually happen around these parts,” I explain. “Skunks getting into homes is not normal.” Nope, not normal at all, and until she arrived, my life had been routine and…normal.
Normal?
Maybe I mean boring.
“I’m impressed, really,” I tell her.
“You should be.” She waves her arms over her body. “A city girl losing a fight with a skunk. That is impressive.”
“No, Alyson.” I touch her shoulders. Her gaze moves to mine, and my throat tightens.
Holy shit, Jay. Don’t fall for her.
I swallow and focus my thoughts. “You’ve taken on an orchard you know nothing about, you’re running a market that’s completely foreign to you, and now you’ve been skunked. I don’t know any other woman who could take all that and still smile about it. If that’s not impressive, I don’t know what is. If your people can’t see that, then they all need CAT scans.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
She chuckles softly. “Thank you. You and your family have been so kind, Jay.”
“Canadians,” I tease, my gaze dropping to take in the nook on her top lip, so lush and kissable.
“If you want to know,” she begins and casts me a glance, “I don’t like to ask because I don’t want people to see just how little I know about…everything.” She snorts, making light of it, but I get that she’s telling me something very private, something that weighs heavily on her shoulders. “I’m an English Lit major. What the hell do I know about any of this?” she asks.
“I know as much about English Lit as you do about farming, but you’re giving it your damn best shot, and that takes courage.”
“I just don’t like when people look for the worst in me, or expect it, you know?”
Yeah, I know. It’s exactly what I did to her, and she’s going to hate me.
How can I possibly fix this?
Chapter Thirteen
Alyson
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get that scent out of my nostrils.” I visibly quake as we scrub the dining room walls with a solution Jay’s mother put together for us. I appreciate it more than she’ll ever know. Cleaning skunk spray is not in my wheelhouse. Not much is, but despite that, Jay boosted my confidence earlier, telling me he was impressed with my efforts. My stupid head swelled from his compliment more than I would have liked, and dammit, I’m really starting to like this guy. Then again, how could I not feel a warmth for a man who continues to help me, even though he knows I don’t belong here?
Water drips down Jay’s arm, soaking the sleeves on his T-shirt as he lifts the sponge and washes the higher parts I can’t reach. “Give it a week, and it will clear.”
I sniff the back of my hand and pull a strand of hair to my nose. “Well, at least it doesn’t take weeks to come off human skin and hair.” I dip my sponge back into the bucket. “You sure the guys don’t mind running the farm and market for me today?”
“They don’t mind, and Tyler is trying to get on your good side. Something about your hot friend coming to visit.”
I laugh at that. “She’s too old for him, and she said she was coming, but I doubt she will.”
“Yeah? Why?”
I roll one shoulder. “Why would she want to leave New York and come here?” I say. Jay stiffens. Shoot, why do I keep insulting the man? “I mean—”
“I know what you mean.” He turns from me, his back muscles so tight, his shoulders are near his ears. “Broadway, espresso, shopping. I guess you must miss all those things.”
I scrub the wall and exhale an exaggerated breath. Do I miss those things? Heck, I’m not even sure I do. It’s clear my friends have moved on without me, and Lucy is only bored now that her boyfriend left her for someone else. My parents care about me, that much I know. But every time I go visit them, they cast disappointed looks my way. But Jay doesn’t want to hear the poor little rich girl’s sob story.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I do.” I steal a glance at him.
“You’ll be happy to have those things again, I guess.”
“Right,” I say. Okay, I get it. He’s impressed with my efforts, but he still doesn’t think I have what it takes to run the farm. He’s probably worried I’m going to run it straight into the ground, which is why he’s happy I miss home.
We both go quiet, lost in our thoughts as we scrub the entire dining room and half the hall. After a long time, I wipe my brow and drop the sponge into the bucket.
“I swear, if I ever come face to face with that skunk again… Well, I’ll…”
“Run.”
I laugh. “Yeah, probably.”
Jay laughs with me and says, “That would be a good idea.”
“Or maybe I’d capture him, stuff him, and set him next to Mr. Beaver.” Would that be possible? Do they have skunk traps?
“I could teach you to shoot,” Jay suggests, and when I crinkle up my nose, his head bobs and he adds, “Or you could just run.”
I snort. This man obviously knows me. “Yeah.” I stand back and examine the place, a warm summer breeze blowing in through all the open windows. “Do you think we got it all?”
He nods. “We just have to leave it to air out now.”
“My clothes are wet from all the scrubbing. I’m going to change.”
“Me, too. Meet me at my place, and come with me when I check on
the bees.”
“Thanks for this,” I say, and he steps up to me, takes a strand of my hair between his fingers. “You didn’t have to help, you know.” My heart pinches. Jay has helped me—in so many ways. I thought I’d be lonely here, alone, but thanks to him and his family, I’ve barely had a minute to myself, and I’m not complaining about that. Seriously, though, how could I not like this man? Just as long as I don’t let it get out of hand, I should be okay. I am not interested in giving my heart to another man who doesn’t want it, and I have no intentions of leaving this place without it intact.
“Maybe I did it for selfish reasons,” he says, his body crowding mine, his voice dropping an octave.
“Oh?” He arches a brow, and that’s when I get it. “Ohh…” I say. “I think the skunk spray has affected my brain.” Either that or his close proximity is messing with my ability to think straight.
His head dips, and a second later, his lips are on mine. I part for him, welcome the tangle of his tongue as he steps closer, slides a strong arm around my waist to drag me to him. His kiss is hungry, hard, a promise of things to come, and as my body reacts, my brain reminds me this is just sex. A noise sounds at the door, and we both jump back.
“Hey, Jay,” Ty says, dashing inside and skidding to a halt when he finds us in the living room. “There are only enough potatoes in cold storage to make a few more bags.”
Jay clears his throat. “The ones in our garden are ready. I’ll pick them later.”
Tyler’s gaze goes back and forth between the two of us, and his smirk is slow, all-knowing when he asks, “Was I interrupting something?”
“Yeah, my peace and quiet,” Jay says.
“It’s fine, Tyler. We were just finishing up. Since you were so kind to work the market today, I’ll pick those potatoes.”
Jay glances at me. “Have you ever—”
“Of course not. But I can learn,” I say.
“Right, Google,” he teases.
“I’d better go get that shower.” With Tyler still grinning at us, I turn to leave.
“Make sure you pack a bag,” Jay reminds me.
“Right, I forgot,” I lie. Better that than for Jay to know how I haven’t stopped thinking about my upcoming sleeping arrangements.
