That was not what I needed to hear from her.
“Yeah. Well.” I ripped the hat off again. “We’ve kept you long enough.”
“Thanks for rolling with it,” she said with a laugh. “Oh—but how do I get back to the farm stand?”
For fuck’s sake.What the hell was wrong with me? “Let me grab Gennie. We’ll drive you back over in the four-wheeler.”
“No, no. I’m fine walking. I’ll find my way. Just point me in the right direction.”
Halfway between slamming the damn hat back on my head, I stiffened and turned to glare at her. Really glare. Beyond the entry-level glaring I’d given her all afternoon. This was an executive glare, the kind born from a toxic blend ofwhat the hell is wrong with youandhave you met me?“You’re not wandering through an orchard after sunset. That’s not an option.” I called up the stairs, “Gen, get down here. We need to drive your friend down the hill.”
“I’m naked!” she cried.
“Put your clothes back on.”
“They’re in the hamper,” she replied.
“Take them out.” I was going to need some hard liquor to close out this evening. Liquor and some serious alone time.
“Really, I’m fine to walk,” Shay said, heading toward the door. “You have enough going on here. I’ll just use my phone for directions.”
The fuck you will.
“You said I’m not allowed to wear clothes out of the hamper,” Gennie shouted.
“Put the clothes on that you just took off,” I said. “That’s not the same as wearing something to school that you dug out of the laundry.”
“I’m gonna go,” Shay said, hand on the doorknob. “Thank you again for dinner—and a bit of catching up.”
I pointed at Shay as I climbed the stairs. “You’re not going anywhere.” To Gennie, I said, “Kid, just put something on. We’re only going for a quick ride in the four-wheeler.”
“Can I drive?” she asked.
“No,” I shouted. To Shay, I added, “I don’t let her drive. I let her steeronceand now she thinks she’s training for Formula One.”
Gennie met me halfway up the stairs and she was dressed in entirely new clothes. She simply said, “I couldn’t find the stuff I was wearing today.”
“Awesome. Whatever. Shoes, now, please.”
When we returned to the kitchen, Shay gave me a glance that repeated her assertion of not needing an escort back to her car. And that was tough shit.
We headed toward the barn where I kept the ATV I used around the farm, Gennie once again glued to Shay’s side. She asked about Shay’s bracelet and her nail polish, and what she thought of thePirates of the Caribbeanfranchise. I didn’t hear Shay’s response but it seemed to satisfy my niece.
Gennie settled into the second row of seats and directed Shay to sit in the front, beside me. This kid wasn’t doing me any favors today. I pulled out of the barn and worked hard at keeping my gaze on the trail. It was all I could do to prevent myself from staring at Shay’s legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. Not that it mattered what she was wearing. She could be decked out in a snowsuit and I’d still be at my max.
Gennie babbled on about the dogs and the goats, and asked Shay about the animals at her house—none—and why that was—apparently Shay had her hands full taking care of herself and couldn’t possibly look after another living thing, not even a houseplant.
That I nearly stopped the four-wheeler there in the Macoun trees and demanded an explanation for that comment was proof I could not spend any amount of time near Shay. I could not exist in this proximity to her again. I couldn’t stop myself from going overboard in obsessing over her while she barely noticed anyone else. And I resented her for dragging me down this far in a matter of hours.
We cleared the apple trees and then the greenhouses, and came into the parking lot, now dark and empty save for one high-end SUV. Ahhh, yes. That was the Shay Zucconi I remembered. “Here we are,” I said, circling around to the driver’s side.
“Ducks!” Gennie screamed as she shot off the seat and sprinted across the lot.
“There’s a nest over there,” I said by way of explanation.
“So, she loves everything except the chickens,” Shay said.
“More or less.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
