Fighting Love

by Melissa West

  She grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet, too excited to contain it. “Let’s count. Hurry.”

  Zac glanced over to spy several people watching them, waiting to see if she’d won, they as invested as she was. And dear God, he was hooked. Absolutely hooked. How a person could affect strangers so easily was beyond him, but she had—she did, on a constant basis. And he realized then it really was he who was standing in her way in Crestler’s Key. They wouldn’t support her out of loyalty to him. Well, enough of that. It was time the town appreciated the wonder that was Sophie Marsh.

  The older man running the entrance booth walked over. “I’ve got a scale here if y’all want to do a weight.”

  “Perfect,” Sophie said, unable to remain still.

  The man took her basket and then Zac’s, weighed each, and turned to the crowd who’d formed around them. “And the winner is . . .” He leaned closer to Sophie, and she whispered her name. “Sophie!”

  The crowd exploded in applause and cheers, and Zac pretended to be disappointed. But actually, he was buzzing inside, happy in a way he hadn’t been in a long, long time.

  “Hayride now?” he asked, eager to surprise her with a little detour.

  “Definitely.”

  The crowd from the strawberry patch had lined up beside a tractor with a trailer attached to it, bales of hay arranged along the railing for people to sit on during the ride.

  “Up you go,” Zac said, lifting Sophie easily onto the trailer and then stepping up himself to sit down beside her, his legs hanging off the edge.

  “You’re pretty strong, you know that?”

  He peered over his shoulder. “Something tells me you are, too.”

  She held his stare, and Zac thought he could get used to this. Someone beside him, a feminine touch to his hard shell. Someone to remind him that life didn’t have to be lonely.

  “Wow, it’s peaceful,” Sophie said as they set out through the rows of trees in the orchard. Zac took her hand, rubbing his thumb slowly back and forth, enjoying the feel of her small hand in his.

  “I like this,” he said, and she smiled.

  “The hayride.”

  “You.”

  Her smile softened as she peered up at him. “Yeah . . . me, too.”

  Zac wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, as they continued through the orchard, past the cow pastures, to the barn in the far back where they stopped for some lemonade and cookies.

  “And this is us.” Zac hopped off the edge and held out his hand for Sophie to join him.

  She glanced at the trailer, still packed with people enjoying their plastic cups of lemonade and small cellophane bags of cookies. “But no one else is getting off.”

  “Special detour.”

  “Um . . . what kind of detour?”

  “The surprise kind. Now hurry up before Tim starts the tractor again.”

  She placed her hands on her hips in that cute Sophie way. “And how exactly do you know his name?”

  Zac winked at her. “Not my first time here.”

  “Are you for real? Why didn’t you say something?”

  He shrugged. “You were excited. And besides, I’ve never been to their U-Pick. Just the main farm.”

  “Because you’re friends with the owner or something?”

  Zac took her hand and directed her to the left. “Not me. My dad fought in Vietnam with Charlie Smith, Polly’s husband.”

  “Charlie . . .”

  “Yeah, my brother was named after him.”

  “So they don’t just know each other, random barely-know-each-other kind of Southern friends, but are real friends.”

  “I’d say they’re like brothers. They fought together. That kind of thing stays with a man.”

  Sophie tossed up her hands. “Brothers! God, you must have thought I was such an idiot to bring you here.”

  “Not at all. Like I said, I’ve never been to their U-Pick.”

  “Well, I’m voiding this date in the books. I get to pick the next date, too.”

  He smirked. “You won the picking contest, remember?”

  “The next two dates then.”

  “Two dates? Now look who’s so sure of herself.”

  “Oh, you’re going on two more dates with me whether you like it or not. You can ditch me after that if you’d like, but I get to plan two distinct dates, and they are going to be doozies, and you’re going to—Oh my God.”

  She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide as they stepped out from the protection of the forest to the small lake before them, nature cradling it in pink and yellow and lavender flowers, like something out of a dream. In the middle of the lake, a family of ducks paddled along, oblivious to their presence, and Zac wished he’d thought to bring bread.

  “The Smiths added the dock since I was here last,” Zac said, pointing to the dock and the small johnboat tied to it. “But otherwise, it looks just as I remember it.”

  “It’s beautiful. Unbelievably beautiful. Did they plant the flowers?”

  “No, they’re wild. The Smiths try to maintain them, but this is all natural, nothing about it manufactured. Just nature.”

  “You did it without even trying.”

  “Did what?”

  “Trumped my date.”

  “To me, you already won. You should have seen the look on your face when you were picking berries and gave the biggest one to that little boy. He lit up, and you were so excited for him. That was the best part of the date for me.”

  “But that was nothing. Just common kindness.”

  “You don’t realize how rare it is. There’s nothing common about it. It comes so naturally to you that it’s second nature. But to most people? To me? It’s harder. We have to work on it, constantly think about the right thing to do. But not you. It’s a part of your very being.” Then Zac nodded toward the dock. “Walk out here with me.” He took her hand again, sure he would never grow bored of holding her hand, of the way she tightened her grasp as they walked. Like she was afraid he might pull away.

  They walked out to the edge of the dock and stared out over the lake, the sun beginning its decline behind the trees, everything calming down as another day inched closer to its end.

  “Why did you buy the farm? Of all the things you could do, why that?”

  “Do you want the truth?”

  “Always.”

  “I’d been into organic foods for a long time and the whole ‘taking things back to their basics’ and getting rid of fillers that were causing cancer and God could only guess what else. It was interesting to me. Still is. But I never had an opportunity to produce my own, to put all of those years of research to good use, until one day my life changed. I moved to Crestler’s Key and saw that Freddie was selling his farm for a bargain price. It felt fated.”

  “So you bought the farm because you’re passionate about organic food?”

  She stood taller and kept her gaze fixed on something across the lake, her demeanor changing before his eyes. Like some thought or memory had invaded the moment.

  “You don’t have to talk about—”

  “I bought it because I needed to find myself. I needed to remember that I was a real, living breathing person. That I mattered. That my wants for my life mattered. I needed something that was all me, my two hands, and if it failed, it failed, but at least I tried to do it all on my own.” She sucked in a breath and glanced down.

  Zac couldn’t wait another second.

  He took her hand, causing her to look up, those startling blue eyes searching him—Zac, someone she barely knew—for comfort and support. Like she was a little girl so desperately in need of approval that she’d accept it from anyone. It broke him, broke through all the doubts and chaos in his mind, all the reasons he’d given himself to stay away. Because although he might not be inherently kind, he was a good person, and he could sense when someone needed something to keep them from falling over the edge. And Sophie Marsh didn’t need just anything.

&n
bsp; She needed him.

  With one final exhale to release the last of his uncertainty, Zac edged closer to her, pulling her to him at the same time, two magnets finding their attraction. He glided his hands over her cheeks, shaking his head slowly as he took in her beautiful face. Then, with the ducks as their only witnesses, he pressed his lips to hers, his hands gently cradling her face as she rose up to him, embracing the kiss. Embracing him and his silent promise to be what she needed. Even if eventually what she needed was for him to say good-bye.

  And with that realization, the kiss intensified, him securing her to his chest, her hands in his hair, their mouths and tongues saying all the things they hadn’t been brave enough to say before. That they wanted each other, deeply, in ways neither was prepared to explore. Emotionally and physically, Zac could no longer deny that they were meant to be more than enemies. More than friends. More than fake dating. They were meant to be together.

  With a sigh, Sophie pulled away, her eyes still closed. Zac kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then her lips once more because he couldn’t resist even if he’d tried.

  “Let me help you.”

  Her eyes opened. “Help me what?”

  “I’m not the one who can answer that. You are. But I’m here. Whatever you need. If it’s this . . .” He kissed her again, this time tasting her lips, feeling his own tingle after he pulled away. “Then I’m here. If it’s friendship, then I can do that, too.”

  She glanced up slowly at him. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

  “No?”

  “No. I want . . .” Her hands glided over his arms, around his neck, into his hair. She smiled a little. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I met you.”

  “Touch my hair?”

  “Kiss you.”

  His heart stilled, and he thought that this was what life was about—these quiet moments that were so often rushed.

  He leaned in and kissed her again, then held her to him, her heart beating against his chest as they watched the sun slip behind the trees, the day ending, but the start of something else blooming on the horizon.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sophie rolled the wagon wheel away from the wall where it had rested for the last month and a half to the middle of her family room, then placed her hands on her hips and stared at it. A Miranda Lambert song played in the background, intensifying Sophie’s get-it-done mood.

  “You and me, wheel. I hope you’re ready for this because you’re getting owned tonight. See, I have a finisher in my life now, and I can’t just go around leaving stuff started when he’s around, now can I? Nope. So, you? You’re going on my wall when I get back . . . even if I have no idea how I’ll lift you up there. But it’s happening. Tonight.”

  Tonight.

  The thought made Sophie giddy. There would be a tonight, a plan that involved more than just her and a glass of wine and an episode of Fixer Upper. And although she’d been just fine in that world, she was ready to see what life felt like when there was more to it than a singular wake up and an empty good night.

  So she was going to finish this wheel, and not because Zac would judge her if she didn’t, but because it was time. In fact, it was time for a lot of things.

  Heading into her bedroom, she studied the bare space over her headboard and decided she needed to get a stud finder just to be safe. Maybe Zac would have one, and then he could show her how to use it so she wouldn’t have to search on YouTube or google instructions.

  The thought made her smile anew. She had someone in her life now to help with these things, to teach her how to do this or that. Someone to lean on and someone who could lean on her. It was a strange thing, and a part of her wanted to take a step back, to realize that this, whatever it was between them, was new and could end any moment. But if Nana’s illness had taught Sophie anything, it was that time was precious. For now, this tiny moment, she intended to enjoy the whatever happening between her and Zac Littleton.

  And because she would see Zac at the market very soon, she could ask him about the stud finder. You know, while she sat across from him, trying to sell things instead of staring at him. Just like the last time they were at the market together, because he’d been right all those weeks ago—she had intentionally positioned herself across from him. And now a month later, the spot was still reserved, thanks to her agreement to give the mayor a fresh apple pie and a half dozen lemon tarts.

  She bit her lip as she thought of seeing Zac there, her mind going back to their kiss and how perfectly she fit against him, cradled there, nothing to worry about.

  Surely happiness couldn’t be this simple, but Sophie couldn’t bring herself to think about all the ways this could blow up in her face. Not yet. That would come, but for now, she intended to be happy.

  Besides, it was high time she worry less over all the things that’d once plagued her and embrace the person she was today, mind and . . . body.

  So instead of pulling out a long skirt or dress, something to cover the long scar on her left knee that had been there since she was a little girl but had been a problem for someone else, so she wasn’t permitted to show it, she slid on a pair of white shorts and a royal blue sleeveless top. Then she slipped on wedge sandals to bring her up a few inches because her legs were too short to balance out her pear shape, so she needed to—

  No.

  Slowly, Sophie stepped out of the wedges and replaced them in her closet, then pulled out the pretty flat sandals she’d found on sale but hadn’t worn because at five-two she was too short to pull them off. But why? Why couldn’t she wear flat shoes and shorts? Why couldn’t she embrace her shortness and scars?

  She could—would. Starting today.

  With her new outfit set, she drew a long breath and turned to look at herself in her floor-length mirror. A smile stretched across her face, and she closed her closet door before her brain could pick apart her outfit and all of her imperfections. For once she didn’t care if her hair was just right, her makeup highlighting her attributes and hiding her mole. No, for once she was just herself, and that had to be enough.

  A surge of pride worked through her core, followed immediately by nervousness because she’d never stepped out of her house without checking her teeth to make sure they weren’t smudged with lipstick or that her concealer hadn’t creased below her eyes. What if...

  You’re fine.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her bag and closed her front door. Glenda and the two boys from Fresh Foods she’d hired for the summer would be there by now, and she didn’t want them to do everything. The market would be crowded, perhaps even more crowded than it had been two weeks ago, and they would need to be fully stocked to keep up.

  Sophie parked in a vendor spot and took the cobblestone walkway that led to the circular center of the market, then she dashed toward her booth. As she feared, most of the booths were already set up.

  “There you are,” Glenda called as she approached.

  Although everything in her ached to glance over to see if Zac was there yet, Sophie forced herself to focus on her staff first. They were there to help her on a Saturday, and that kind of dedication deserved her full attention.

  She edged behind the Fresh Foods booth, careful not to bump the displays. “Sorry, running late this morning. But it looks like everything’s set up already.”

  Glenda smiled. “It is. We had some help.”

  “Good. I asked Kirk and Sam to stop by, and they said they would. Glad they made it here before me.”

  “No, not them. Him.”

  Sophie followed Glenda’s outstretched finger to the booth across from theirs where a certain farmer was loading baskets on his table. His hair gleamed in the morning sunlight, showing flecks of blond in the brown, and his tanned arms flexed as he lifted a crate of apples. As usual, he was wearing a Littleton Farms T-shirt and jeans, and Sophie found herself staring far longer than appropriate.

  “Zac helped you?”

  �
��Yep. He parked beside me and offered to help carry things in, then ended up carrying it all in himself while I set up.”

  “That’s . . .” Sophie couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. Then, as though he felt her stare, he stilled mid-motion while placing a basket on his table and turned his head, his gaze hitting hers dead on.

  She lifted her hand in a small hello, and he grinned a hello back.

  “Thank you,” she called out.

  “Any time,” he said, his voice low, both staring at each other like fools. Sophie wished she could go over to him, see if he would pull her forward and kiss her as he had the day before. But maybe that was all normal-ish stuff for him, and they were back to being enemies. This was uncharted territory for her, and she feared that doing anything might mess it all up. So she continued to stare, until she realized that someone was calling her name. Loudly.

  “Sophie!”

  Her trance broke, and Sophie glanced around. “What? What happened?”

  “You tell me. Kirk and Sam are here now, and I didn’t know if you needed them to do anything, so I was asking you, but you were in a Zac daze. Wow, when did this happen?”

  Sophie said hello to the two boys who worked at the farm part time, then asked them to grab the extra Fresh Foods baskets and bags from the van. After they were out of sight, she focused on her friend, her mind mud, her legs Jell-O after the stare fest with Zac.

  “When did what happen?”

  “You and Zac. First he all but ditches his own staff to help me, and then you’re staring at each other like you’re ready to rip the other one’s clothes off.”

  “We were not.”

  “You were. And he’s still staring.”

  Sophie glanced over to find Zac smiling at her before going back to work, and then she was smiling again, too.

  “Okay, that smile is not nothing. Spill it before I die here. What are you doing with Zac Littleton? And furthermore, and maybe more important, how many tattoos are we talking about here? On his chest? His back? I need details please.”

  “What? I don’t know.”

  “So you’re not that far into it? Fair enough. But you’ve kissed?”

  “I . . . we . . .” Sophie bit her lip, and Glenda jumped up and down.