Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (19 page)

I had gotten my fill of bullshit from Titan,
and I didn’t see any need to put myself through the ringer yet again for
someone who might not even be interested in me.

If Cade tried to come onto me once again after
the season was over, I’d have reason to believe that he’d only backed off
because he didn’t want to lose his job. Then at least I’d have a choice as to
whether that explanation satisfied me.

But if he’d lost interest in me, and I’d
waited to find out from him that he had for sure, then I’d be wasting months of
my life when I could possibly find someone I liked just as well, if not better
than him. If Cade wanted me, really wanted me, then he would make an effort to
convince me of that once he was free to once more; of course, by then it might
be too late.

I finished up hanging the laundry out on the
line, and told myself that if Cade came onto me once more after his contract
with my dad had ended, I would decide how I felt about him and whether I was
willing to try things with him, at that point
—
and no sooner. Maybe I’d meet someone in the
meantime who hadn’t made such a promise to my dad. And if I did, it would just
be Cade’s bad luck that I wasn’t available when he finally had a real, true
chance at winning my heart.

But even as I thought that, I couldn’t help
but think that I would really, truly prefer to
know
whether or not Cade had lost interest. Whether I should even
hope that there might have been something more to what was between us than a
one-night stand. I went back into the house and pushed the idea out of my head;
there was no point in making myself miserable over someone who probably wasn’t
even interested in me.

Chapter Twenty Four

Cade

“You staying for dinner tonight, Cade?” I
looked up from the nozzle of the pesticide sprayer at the sound of Bob Nelson’s
voice.

“I didn’t know that was on the agenda,” I told
the farmer. He grinned.

“Well, I figured, it’s a Friday night,” he
said. “I don’t know what Autumn’s making for dinner, but we’d love to have
you.”

I thought about it; Bob seemed to be relaxing,
finally. It looked like he didn’t have any real suspicions that I was doing anything
inappropriate with his daughter, at least not anymore. Autumn was distancing
herself as much from me as I was from her, and Tuck had calmed down on the
aggressiveness.

“I’d love to stay for dinner. Thanks for
inviting me.”

“Finish up this last row, and then come back
to the house,” he instructed.

“Can do, boss,” I agreed. Bob turned away as I
pumped the pesticide canister and loaded it onto the motorized cart that
carried it. I continued along the rest of the row, spraying the soybeans down,
thinking about the dinner to come.

I hadn’t had a bad dinner at the Nelson house
since I’d started working for them; on top of that, it wasn’t as though I had
anything planned for myself after work. It’d be as well to have dinner before
heading home for the weekend.

I finished up and brought the pesticide cart
back towards the house, stopping at the shed where Bob kept all the tools and
machinery. I put the cart away, took off the jumpsuit I’d put on to keep the
pesticide off of my clothes, and headed to the house itself. There was no sign
of Autumn or her mother; Tuck had just finished up, by the sight of him. “You
staying for dinner?”

“Your dad invited me,” I told him. “Who am I
to turn down a free meal?”

Mrs. Nelson came to the door and smiled at me.
“You remember where to wash up?” I nodded. “Autumn is just finishing up dinner.
You’ll have just enough time to get cleaned up.”

“Thanks,” I said, returning her smile. I went
into the house and sniffed the air; it smelled familiar
—
and not all that appetizing. The meals I’d had
at the Nelson house ever since I had started working for Bob had all been so
good and most of them had been made by Autumn. I shook off the impression,
reminding myself that there could be several reasons for the off smell, and
went into the bathroom to clean up.

I washed my face and hands and neck, combed
through my hair and pulled it back, and made sure I looked presentable. I
didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard
—
didn’t want to set Bob on the alert again
—
but I also didn’t want to look like a total
scrub when I sat down at the family dinner table.

“What are we having for dinner?” I stepped
into the kitchen, and saw that Bob, Tuck, and Mrs. Nelson were already there;
Bob had arrived just ahead of me, to ask Autumn.

“We’re having salmon croquettes, with peas and
carrots,” Autumn announced.

I barely restrained myself from grimacing at
the news. I had hated salmon croquettes ever since the first time my mom had
made them for me
—
and I’d told Autumn as much during one of our
conversations.
There is no way that she
made them by chance.
I started to smile to myself.

“Is that a problem, Cade?”

“Not at all,” I replied. I smiled at Autumn;
an unpleasant dinner wouldn’t kill me, and I wasn’t about to let anyone see
that her little ploy had had any effect on me. I met her gaze and saw the
challenging look in her eyes. “Sounds like a fine meal.”

I sat down at the table in my usual spot and
listened to the rest of the Nelson family chatting as they put the food out and
passed it around. Addie was looking more and more like a toddler every day. She
was going to be one soon, and I thought
—
briefly, very privately, to myself
—
that it would be a shame indeed if Autumn had
to deal with throwing her daughter a first birthday party without a father to share
the responsibilities.

That’s none of your business. She told you about Titan; obviously he’s
not interested in being a father. And if she wants help…
I pushed the thought aside.

I helped myself to two salmon croquettes to
start with, some peas and carrots, a little of the tomato rice. I was
definitely going to eat enough of the dinner to avoid looking like the contents
of it bothered me, but I wasn’t going to punish myself. I felt Autumn watching
me fix my plate, and gave her a quick smile.

“We’re going to have some trouble in the next
couple of weeks,” Bob said. “We’re supposed to be getting a dry spell. We’ll
have to stay on top of the irrigation more heavily.”

“We can keep a watch on everything,” Tuck said
matter-of-factly. “It’ll be fine. We’ve been through worse dry spells.”

I listened to the members of the family
chattering, throwing in my own comments here and there, where it was relevant.
Addie apparently felt much better about salmon croquettes than I did. She
scarfed down the bites that Autumn gave her with eager hunger.

“This is absolutely amazing, Autumn,” I said,
looking at her with a little grin.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said tartly.

“Oh, I more than like it,” I told her. “It’s
absolutely delicious.”

I held her gaze as I ate a bite of the
croquette. It was better than my mom’s had always been, but it wasn’t anything
I’d actually eat by choice nonetheless. I saw the anger flare up on Autumn’s
face at my praise, and saw her fight with herself not to react to it. “You’ll
have to give me the recipe,” I added.

“Oh, just a little of this and that,” she
said, her voice a little tight. “Canned salmon, of course. Some onion, garlic,
bell pepper…” she pressed her lips together. “I’ll write it all up for you
before you go home, so you can make them whenever you want.”

I almost laughed at the irritable look in her
eyes. She couldn’t say what was on her mind
—
that she’d only made the meal to annoy me. If
she did that, it would only get her a mountain of questions.

“I’d appreciate it,” I said. “These are the
best salmon croquettes I’ve ever had.” It was the truth, they were the best I
had had, but that didn’t make them something I liked.

“Since you like them so much, you should have another,”
she said, holding out the plate. She raised one eyebrow a little bit, and I all
but smirked at her.

“Love to,” I said. It only made her angrier.
She looked for a second like she wanted to slam the plate down, but she
couldn’t do that any more than she could come clean about the real reason she’d
made a meal she knew I would hate.

“Autumn’s a great cook,” Tuck said. “I can’t
think of anything she’s ever made that I haven’t liked.”

“There are plenty of things I’ve made that
suck,” she said, determinedly looking away from me. “I just have managed not to
have anyone actually eat them other than a few tastes from me.”

“What gave you the idea for salmon
croquettes?” I ate another bite of the third one I had taken from her, and
looked at her with a grin.

“Just popped into my mind. I haven’t made them
in a while, and we had that salmon in the pantry that was going to waste.” She
was flushed, she looked well and truly angry. I almost laughed at the sight.

“Peas and carrots are such a classic
combination,” I said, before eating a forkful. Autumn knew for a fact
—
because I’d told her
—
that I had hated that particular combination,
as well. Mom had made it probably two hundred times when I’d been growing up,
and I had mentioned to Autumn that if I never saw another bowl of the two
combined ever again, it would be too soon.

“They do go well together,” she agreed,
struggling to keep her composure.

“You know, if we get a surplus on those
soybeans, we should maybe consider blanching them and keeping them on hand,”
Tuck was saying. “Then, too, of course there are a lot of folks that eat them
…
call it eda-something.”

“Edamame,” Autumn said. “We don’t have the
right kind of soybeans to do that. We could make soy milk or tofu, but the ones
you want for edamame are a little different than the ones we have.”

“Besides, there’d be no point in wasting good
crops selling to restaurants when we can get money just fine from the folks
we’re already selling to,” Bob Nelson added. “No point at all. Although, I like
that you’re thinking of the future, son.”

I felt the tension in Tuck, and wondered if,
between his irritability and Autumn’s annoyance at my refusal to show any sign
of hating her food, there might not be a fight at the table.

“Just thinking about different ways we could
get more money out of the farm,” Tuck said defensively.

“You know,” I said, turning my attention away
from Autumn for a moment, “there’s that patch on the new part of the property
where it’s not really great for either soy or corn. You could do test crops
there
—
maybe see if you could find something that would take.”

“That’s what I’ve been talking to dad about,”
Tuck said, nodding. “We need to make sure every bit of land that can be put to
use is being put to use.”

“I don’t disagree,” Bob said.

They started talking about ideas, and I turned
my attention back onto Autumn. It was as obvious as the sun at noon that she
wasn’t getting any less irritated at me, and I was tempted to give her another
little prod to see what she would do, but the last thing I needed was to be a
source of a fight in the house. Better by still to let her stew in her own
disappointment, brought on by her immature little ploy.

I had to wonder why she’d gone to so much
trouble to try and make a meal that she knew I would hate and not want to eat.
She’d been avoiding me like the plague for a week or more, ever since I’d
rejected her most recent invitation to go out and do something with her.

I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the
fact that she was obviously feeling rejected, but I would have thought that
she’d have more to do with herself than take some petty revenge on me for
turning her down. Apparently, I had been wrong about that.

I got through the rest of the dinner, even
managing to get down the banana pudding
—
another food I’d told Autumn I didn’t like
—
without a single complaint. I could see that
she was only getting more annoyed and tried not to goad her into an actual
fight, but it was gratifying to see the look on her face as she struggled to
keep her irritability a secret from everyone else seated at the table.

I wanted to get away as early as possible; if
I stayed, I was pretty sure she’d just try something else to irritate me, in
the hopes of pushing one of my buttons.

I helped Mrs. Nelson clear the table after
dinner and said my goodbyes, trying to make sure that I gave everyone the same
kind and level of attention. I didn’t need Bob Nelson getting suspicious about
me falling for his daughter again, even if it was marginally the truth.

I didn’t hug Autumn, but then the look on her
face told me that if I had tried, she would have done her level best to try and
do something cruel or painful to me without being seen doing it. I shook Bob’s
hand, thanked him for inviting me to dinner, and started out to my car.