Good? The last thing on earth I wanted was a bunch of people at my farm looking for me to provide them with entertainment. Fuck that. Not that I’d have a choice—I could just see Brad and Pete and Georgia getting all turned on by this idea. It was enough to make me pissed and resentful again, plus I could still smell her, I couldn’t stop looking at that pearl necklace at her throat, and every time our eyes met, my stomach tightened. I needed to leave.
“No. It sounds like a fucking nightmare. I gotta go.” Ignoring the twinge in my gut when I saw the way her face fell, I strode down the bar and out the door.
I wanted her out of my sight.
Eight
Margot
“So how’s it going?” Jaime asked. I’d called her on the walk home.
“It’s going well, I think. I met the clients today and they were very nice—well, most of them were.”
“Uh oh. Someone’s not nice?”
“Not to me, anyway. It’s the middle brother, Jack.” I pictured him sitting next to me at the bar and my heart pumped a little faster. He filled out a t-shirt like nobody’s business. Had he noticed the way I’d stared at his chest? I liked his eyes, too. They were dark but had flecks of gold in them. And I hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at my legs, the care he took not to get too close, the spark when he took my hand. Something was there. Why’d he have to be such a jerk?
“Is that the hot one? I saw the family picture.”
I bit my lip. “You think he’s hot?”
“Yeah. Don’t you?”
“I guess so,” I said cautiously, then quickly followed it up with, “but he’s not my type at all.”
“Why not?”
“Uh, besides the fact that he’s a scruffy, sweaty farmer who needs a haircut, he’s stubborn, grouchy, and ill-mannered.” Truthfully, I hadn’t minded his hair, his scruff, or his sweat earlier in the day. And tonight, he’d been cleaned up, combed and trimmed and smelling faintly like a beach bonfire. I kept wanting to lean over and sniff him.
Jaime laughed. “What’s he grouchy about?”
As I walked, I described my meeting with the family and what they’d told me about Jack. When I got to the part about his wife, she gasped.
“Oh my God, how?”
“Drunk driving accident.”
“That’s so sad!”
“Isn’t it? He still wears his wedding ring.” I’d noticed it right away tonight. “Georgia said they were so in love.”
“God, that sucks. Poor guy. This is why people shouldn’t get married. Bad things happen.”
I had to smile. “Is Quinn hinting around about proposing again?”
“Yes. God, if he really does it, I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You guys are madly in love, you’ve been together for a year and a half, and you’ve lived together for months. Why not get married?”
“Because we’re happy!” she exploded, as if that explained it all. “Why fuck with that?”
Sighing, I glanced around. Had the walk to the bar taken me this long? “OK, whatever. Don’t get married. I think I’m lost.”
“Lost where?”
I stopped walking and turned a full circle, positive I hadn’t seen that park on the corner before. Nothing creepier than a playground in the dark. “Lost walking from town back to my cottage. What the heck, there weren’t even that many turns.”
Jaime laughed. “Hang up with me and use Google Maps or something. Then text me when you get there so I don’t worry about you wandering alone in the dark somewhere.”
“OK.”
“And then call me tomorrow so we can talk more about what you’re thinking for strategy.”
“I will. I want to do some more research and brainstorming, but I have a few thoughts. Their budget isn’t much.”
She sighed. “I figured.”
“But that’s OK. You know what? I really want to help them. I’d do it for free.”
“You need to stop doing things for free,” Jaime scolded. “You’re not working for Daddy anymore. You’re a grown woman with her own company.”
“And her own trust fund.” I laughed a little. “I don’t mind doing things for a good cause, and I like their cause. Plus it’s not only for them, it’s for the community and the economy and the common good! Did you know there’s such a thing as food insecurity?”
“What the hell is that? Tomatoes with trust issues?”
“Lack of access to adequate, nutritious, affordable food. And it’s not only in urban areas, it’s in rural areas too. People who live surrounded by farms might never eat what’s grown and harvested right in their backyard! We export what we grow and import what we eat. It’s crazy!”
She laughed. “You’re starting to sound a little crazy.”
“Sorry. I got sidetracked today by poverty statistics when I was researching sustainable agriculture and food justice.”
“Food justice?”
“The right of communities to grow, sell, and eat healthy food. It’s a huge movement I had no idea existed, but now I’m really inspired. I want to get involved.”
“Gah. You’re such a softie. Let me know when you’re home.”
“I will. Night.” I ended the call, and punched the address of the cottage into Google Maps. While jabbering away to Jaime, I’d kept walking when I should have turned, and missed my street by about three blocks. I backtracked, found my way home, and texted her that I made it.