Always On My Mind (The Sullivans #8)(18)
Author: Bella Andre

And that was just the problem. He knew she was right. Because when she did finally decide to leave, it really was going to be his loss.

Somehow he needed to hold his focus on the farm, on the never-ending work that came with owning a thousand acres and more than a hundred animals. “Have you ever worked with crops before?” he asked her.

Around a mouthful of gummy candy, she said, “I used to help my mom with her veggies when I was a little girl. She said I had a green thumb. Why? Is planting seeds next on my list?”

“No,” he told her. “Weeding is.”

He figured she’d groan at that news. Instead, just as she kept doing over and over, she surprised him by saying, “Oh good. I enjoyed helping her plant things, and seeing them grow was cool, but I always liked ripping things out even more.”

He could see the wide grin on her face in his peripheral vision, which was as close as he could get to looking at her right then if he wanted to keep his control from being completely destroyed.

“It’s like the difference between a pirouette and a grand jeté. Both are fun, but sometimes you’ve just got more of an appetite for destruction.”

He’d spent enough years going to the ballet in his previous life to know what she was talking about. He shot a look at her gorgeous legs. Even in her dark jeans, her lithe strength was obvious, and the beautiful way she moved had caught his eye from the first.

Was that her story? Was she a dancer? And if she was, then what the hell was she doing on his farm pretending to be a farmhand when she should be up on a stage somewhere?

Thank God he pulled into his drive before he could do something stupid, like ask her any of those questions. Her questions for him during the ride over had been bad enough.

From here on out, he vowed to keep them loaded up with so much work that neither of them would have time to worry about anything else, starting with the weeds in his asparagus patch for her and the new roof on his cottage for him.

Chapter Nine

Damn it, Grayson thought the next morning as he rubbed down his horse after a particularly grueling ride, he’d all but worked the two of them into the ground the day before, but it hadn’t made a bit of difference.

He still wanted Lori more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. So much that even though she’d made him another fabulous dinner and then breakfast, both times he’d told her he couldn’t stop working long enough to eat with her and that he’d grab the leftovers when he could.

And later, when she’d said that she was worried about the cat not eating much, after he’d told her Mo was lucky to still be here at all, she’d glared at him and turned on her heel without another word.

“Grayson?” Lori poked her head into the stables. She’d been fearless everywhere else on his farm, but she never ventured too close to his horses. “You just got a call from Eric. He said he’s going to need to come an hour early tonight to pick up the boxes of food. What do you need me to do to help with that?”

Grayson barely bit back a curse. So much for avoiding Lori today, too. In order to get all of the food together in time, the two of them would have to work together. And work well.

“I need you to go into the storeroom and pull out the cartons so that we can fill them. Lay them out across the tables inside the barn. You’ll have to stack them two deep.”

“How many should I pull out?”

“I’ve got two hundred and fifteen subscribers, but we’ll make an extra dozen.” People sometimes needed an additional box or two, plus he liked Eric to do a few free drop-offs at the end of every pick-up day with whatever was left.

“Got it.” She turned immediately to take care of the work that needed to be done, but it wasn’t until she was gone that he realized something had been different.

She hadn’t smiled. Or done or said anything to get a rise out of him. She’d simply given him the message, then asked him what needed to be done. It was exactly what he’d told her he wanted from her. And yet, it felt wrong.

He tried to push the crazy thought out of his head, but by the time he joined her in the barn and saw the incredibly fast progress she’d made—along with the slightly dimmer light in her eyes—he couldn’t help but feel like a total ass for not only being so hard on her, but also for going out of his way to avoid her.

Was she upset about having to eat alone? Was she thinking he was an ogre about the cat? Or did it have nothing to do with him at all and she simply missed her family…or whoever else she had run from to come to his farm?

The thought of Lori with another man was like a hard punch straight to the gut. He couldn’t let himself have her, but Lord, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching her, either. Not when, despite her resilience, he couldn’t help but see the sweet vulnerability in her eyes when she was exhausted enough to accidentally let down her guard.

She quickly picked up on his plan for that week’s box and they worked silently together to pick the remaining strawberries, artichokes, asparagus, peas, and squash. After a short while, Lori started to arrange each of the boxes in a way that Grayson had to admit was far more pleasing to the eye than the way he normally laid everything out for his customers. He could only imagine how happy everyone would be when they picked up their produce this week, likely even more inspired to go home and start cooking up and eating the bounty with their families.

Because of Lori.

When he was done picking the fresh fruit and veggies for the week, he moved to the other side of the table to help her put together the rest of the boxes and said, “These are looking great.”

A smile, maybe, or if he was really lucky, some laughter. That was what he’d expected her to respond with. Anything but a head that stayed down as she simply nodded and kept filling boxes.

“Lori—”

Shit, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say to her, just that it had to be something. Anything to bring back the smile he was getting way too used to seeing…and the motormouth that had started to sound better than any symphony he’d ever heard.

Her hands immediately stilled and when she finally looked up at him, he hated the shadows in her eyes.

“What is it, Grayson?”

Four crisp words were all he warranted now. “I wanted to say—” When he paused to try to get a grip, he saw the hope light up in her eyes.

“Go ahead,” she said with a soft curving of her lips that held him entranced. “I’m listening.”