Just Want Somebody to Love (Bella Warren Book 1) (12 page)

“It doesn’t have to end that way.”

“Another time, and maybe I’d let you try to sweet talk me, or continue with whatever this is you’re attempting, but I don’t have time for you right now.” She pointed at her ice cream cup. “Aside from when I sleep, this is the first break I’ve had in a week and a half. It’s planting season. I barely have time for a shower.”

“There’s always time for more when you want it.”

“And I haven’t gotten over the fact you stood me up because you were mad at your brother.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

She grabbed her cup and scouted off the picnic table. “No time. I have to get back home and be ready for a conference call in twenty minutes.”

“Sounds busy for a family farm.”

“If you’d stuck around a little longer, you would have learned this isn’t our only farm. They’re all in planting season right now.” She walked away. Look at her go. If at all possible, she’d high-five herself right now. “Nice to see you again, Justin. I’m glad to know you didn’t stand me up because you thought I was loser.”

“Wait.” He pushed off the table and chased after her. “There has to be something I can do so I can see you.”

She let out a breath. Almost gone. That last comment probably wasn’t one of her better ideas, but darn it, she liked getting to him. “I don’t get you.”

“I’m an open book.”

“You’re this player, pick up women kind of guy. Why the hell are you here pretending to care? Why me? If you just want a piece of ass, I can give you some names.”

He frowned and his gaze darkened. His temple ticked and lips pulled tight. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want any names. I want to know you more.”

Well that struck a good chord. Still, she just couldn’t. “That night at the bar, that wasn’t me. I was in the mood for something and you fit the bill. That girl who pulls guys in the woods? I don’t do that.”

“So you lied then. About being rusty? You’re a good girl, and it was the rum that night.”

Ha. “That girl you met is long in the past. I don’t have time for shit like that anymore. I have a business to run, family who needs me, and a ton of people depending on me so they don’t lose their job. That girl you met that night, I outgrew her years ago. I knew I outgrew her the moment I walked into that bar trying to be her again. I’m too old for all that.”

“You’re never too old. You walked in. You stayed in. And you picked me.”

Way to remind her of her mistakes. “Some bad habits resurfaced. I’ll see you around.”

“Wait. I’ll help.” He caught her by the arm. “If I help, you’ll have more time.”

She tried ignoring the feel of his hand on her, but it all flashed at once. Lowering her zipper. Touching her, taking her. Holding her. Pulling the door closed as he left and disappeared in the night. “You’ll help do what?”

“With whatever. What you told Kent about helping and he got the cookies for it. I’ll do what he did. That’ll help you, right?”

She laughed again. This was rich. This guy in his no doubt pricey clothes and arrogant attitude bent over in the dirt. “You couldn’t handle it.”

“I can handle anything you can. It sounds like you could use the help, and I feel bad about before. With no expectations, at least let me help you to make it up for leaving before.”

She crossed her arms under her chest. Too arrogant for his own good. The boy had no idea what he was getting himself into, but she was happy to swing the hand basket to throw him into hell. “All right. Be at my house at dawn.”

He frowned. “Dawn? Is there another one that happens besides first thing in the morning?”

Best day ever, on deck. She just had to contain her excitement until he clamped on the bait. “Not that I’m aware of. That’s when we start planting. Everyone gets there predawn to get everything they need.”

“Predawn. That sounds worse.”

He had no idea how worse it could get. Now she knew why her brother teased her for not being a morning person. This was fun. “Oh, don’t worry. I guarantee you it’ll get worse.” And to needle him a little, “waking up is the easiest part of the whole day, but if this sounds like too much for you to handle, I’ll understand. A lot of people can’t do it. Most of them are in their seventies, but hey, know your limits.”

His eyes narrowed. “I can handle it. Anything else I need to know?”

She yanked the fishing pole and had him hooked. Oh, this day couldn’t get better. She glanced down the front of him. His shirt had a horse emblem over the left chest. No doubt those clothes cost some money. The idea of letting him ruin them appealed, but she wasn’t that cold hearted. She just wanted to destroy his will to live so that every painful breath he drew the next day would have him thinking of her. “You’re going to need some clothes you can get muddy in.”

“I’ve noticed yours look extra dirty.”

She brushed a clump of mud off her knee and knocked her boots together. “Yeah. Seriously. Get clothes you can get muddy in. And boots, too. Today was worse since it rained yesterday morning. Tomorrow won’t be as bad, but you’re in a field, mostly on your knees. Even if it’s dry, you’re going to get filthy.”

“Will do.” He didn’t seem the least bit afraid.

Tomorrow it was schooling time, and that boy would be learning a thing or two. She scrapped the last of her ice cream, ate it, and tossed the cup in the trash. “I’ll see you first thing tomorrow then.”

“At dawn.”

“Predawn,” she corrected. “That’s thirty minutes before the sun pokes it head over the horizon. If you want breakfast, get there earlier so you’ll have time to eat. About five-thirty should be good.” She smiled and the confidence on his face cracked. “Early bird getting a worm.”

She slipped in her car, and boy, did it ever feel good to drive off and leave him speechless. Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough. She’d have to catch Wade this evening and find out which shitty jobs were left, because she had a sucker coming to work.

Payback, baby. She cranked up the radio, sang at the top of her lungs, and did a little dance in the car on the way home.

She parked at her house, but she didn’t bother going in. For the first time since her parents started Chester Farms, Chester House was empty during planting season. All the teasing scents of sweets and home cooked meals that floated through the house transferred to Wade and Kara next door.

Not just that stuff either. The coffee pot on her counter was getting lonely. A twelve cup pot shouldn’t just be used by one person. It was wrong on so many levels. Not once could she recall that backdoor making its long, aching-sounding squeak as someone stepped inside for a cup from that old pot. So far as she knew, that thing had been making the coffee for this place since her parents came here.

She approached the front of Kara and Wade’s, but a longing pulled her gaze to Chester House. An unexpected lump of sadness landed in her belly. When it was time for harvesting, was everyone going to congregate at Wade and Kara’s too? When Kara returned home last season, she restarted the old tradition of baking cookies for kids who came out. Whitney hadn’t realized how empty and quiet the house had been until Kara came back. Odds were, Chester House would be losing its harvesting season guests, too. It probably didn’t even need to keep the Chester House name anymore.

She stepped inside and found Mom and Kara where she expected. In the kitchen. They had a big bowl between them and looked up from whatever as she stepped in. Maybe Whitney should learn to bake something before harvest time got here.

And maybe she should learn to be a firefighter so she’d know what to do while the house burned to the ground.

Mom’s head tipped to the side. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“I can still tell when you’re lying.”

Knowing when your kids were lying came standard issue in the mom packaging. Always aiming to get away with it came with the kid file. “Just adjusting to a quiet house. It’s odd.”

Mom nodded. “It’s felt different this year, that’s for sure, but a good different. Kara couldn’t have picked out a better kitchen to work in.”

That wasn’t exactly what Whitney meant by saying this year was odd. She smiled anyway so this conversation would end faster. “She was taught by the best.”

Her mom grinned. “Very true. You hungry?”

“Nah, I just had some ice cream.”

Kara fetched milk from the refrigerator. “That explains why it took you so long.”

Part of it. There was also the part about running into the past and her favorite part of the day, suckering said past.

Kara turned a measuring cup around and poured milk in. “Now you’re smiling.”

So she was. “I am smiling.”

Kara studied her for a bit. “I heard a certain somebody is back in town.”

Her mom pulled her attention off the bowl she’d been stirring. “This sounds like a boy.”

“It is a boy. And yes, that’s why I’m smiling.”

“That surprises me.” Kara glanced to her mom. “It’s the one who stood her up.”

Whitney sat on a barstool across from them and ate a cookie that had broken. “Tomorrow he’s going to be leaping at my every command, and I intend to work him until he can’t move.”

“Whitney.” Her mom leveled a look at her.

Kara laughed. “I can’t wait for this.”

Her mom studied her. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. That boy has a thing or two coming.”

Her mom grinned. “Get ‘em, then.”

Kara shook her head. “How’d you ever talk him into that?”

“That’s the beauty of it. I didn’t have to talk him into anything. He volunteered.” And she couldn’t wait to show him how nice she could be.

Justin stood next to his truck and squinted at whatever he might be looking at. It was a bright ball in the distance. The huge spot gleamed to a glowing highlighter shade of white if there was ever such a thing. It was surrounded by streaks of pink and orange slicing through the dying dark blue sky. He wasn’t sure, but he thought people called this dawn. Even with sunglasses, the morning sun was too bright for any sensible man to see.

He turned away from the blinding light and rubbed over his face. Not worth it. This wasn’t worth it. Surely he’d have more luck forcing Brandon’s hand another way. He grabbed at his truck handle to get the hell out of there, but a curse of knowing slipped over his tongue and stopped him.

Everything Justin spent years building threatened to crumble if Brandon didn’t change his mind.

Footsteps padded behind him, and he faced the last thing he knew that could make his dreams come true. Her hair was a curly mass of white blond knotted on the back of her head with a big pink band waiting for him to rip out. Her cheeks were paler than he remembered, but then again, all his best memories included her flushed.

For some Godforsaken reason, this pint-sized woman with jeans stuck in one boot, the other not, and her shirt mis-buttoned and un-tucked served as his current hope. So long as he could make her fall in love with him enough to suit Brandon. Step one, forgiveness. With their chemistry standing the hair on his arms, he’d have all he wanted by the end of the week.

She sipped from a Thermos that had a picture of a tractor across the bottle. A lone brow cocked, and a look he didn’t want to define crossed her face. Her gaze went over him. By the twist of her mouth, it appeared something like “are you fucking kidding me?” was about to roll out. Then again, it was early, so who knew.

She shook her head and sighed. “I hope those clothes are cheaper than they look, because they ain’t gonna be worth much by the end of the day.”

It wasn’t his most expensive pair of jeans and shoes, but being the front of a restaurant chain on the verge of exploding nationwide didn’t call for backwoods, hillbilly attire. With the way her clothes concealed her great curves, he’d like to get her out of them too. Of course, the pants hanging off her hips had the benefit of showing off her sweet lower belly. “It’ll be fine.”

“All right.” She lifted a shoulder. “And you’re late.”

He glanced to the sun. “You said dawn.”

“I said
pre
-dawn.” She lifted her chin and leveled her stare with his. “That was an hour ago when light cracked the horizon. You missed breakfast, and I had a whole pan of hot, homemade cinnamon rolls I didn’t have to share with anyone.”

His stomach rumbled. “That sounds good.”

She smiled with a grin that broadened until her lips cracked with a small laugh. “They were.”

Damn it, he wasn’t hungry until she mentioned food. “I don’t mind cold cinnamon rolls.”

Her cheeks pinked and she glanced up. “Yeah, me neither. And I thought about saving you a couple, but then you were even more late and I ate those too.”

“Damn. A whole pan?”

“All of it.” She patted her belly and drew his eye to the spot.

He wasn’t sure where she would put two cinnamon rolls, let alone how many counted for a whole pan. “I guess it’s snooze you lose around here.”

She nodded. “And don’t ever forget it.”

“Noted.” Not just the warning, but her tone while delivering it, like some ominous forewarning. He pointed at her Thermos. “Is that coffee, and did you save me any?”

She hugged it to her chest and dipped her chin as she watched him. “I never let good coffee go to waste. It’s all gone, too.”

He chuckled. “Even though I was late, any chance I can get one just like it?”

She tipped her head at the two story white house with a covered front porch and more bird feeders in the tree than he knew were in existence. “I’ll take pity this time, but this is your only warning: you set the cup down for a minute, and it might not be there when you go back for it.”

He stretched his arms across his chest. “Knowing that just makes this day seem even more exciting.”

She laughed. Her smile pushed her cheeks up full, and red colored across them. And damn, there was that sexy as hell woman he’d followed and hadn’t wanted to leave. “Come on. We don’t have a lot of time before my brother will start wondering where I am.”

He liked the phrasing of that, if only they were hurrying for reasons other than just for coffee. He stretched as he followed her to the house. “I’ll be as fast as your pot can make, but if we don’t have time, we can skip it. I don’t mind.”