CHAPTER FOUR
James
I never saw it coming—falling in love with Madison.
One moment she was Maddie, Noah’s annoying little sister who was always around, always causing chaos, and always in the way. And then on a random Monday in her early twenties, she suddenly didn’t seem like his little sister anymore.
I first noticed it when she asked to use my pressure washer to clean the mud off her truck tires. She was wearing a baggy black T-shirt, jean shorts, and flip-flops. When she heard me approach behind her, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. And that’s the first time I remember thinking,Holy shit, Madison is beautiful.It slammed into my chest, and I’ve been beaten up by it ever since.
I filed it away as only an attraction for a few years. But that didn’t last. It grew and morphed into something significant. Something I’m worried might ruin everything. Something I haven’t even been able to get rid of by dating other women.
I’ve never acted on these feelings because, with our lives and families so intertwined, you can’t just blurt out something like thatwithout a plan. Without knowing you’re gonna make it for the long haul. And Madison has never given me any reason to think I should tell her.
Except . . . for that phone call.
The call where we talked like two adults and not like James and Maddie who grew up together. And then I made a decision that officially ruined even the slightest chance I’d ever have at being with Madison. I asked her to work for me—to be the executive chef of my restaurant.
My restaurant that didn’t exist before that phone call.
The second I hung up, I dialed my brother Tommy and it went something like this:
“Let me get this straight, you want me to help you develop a restaurant—the very thing I told you to do when you called asking for money to repair that damn tractor again—and instead of taking me up on it you said ‘over my dead body’?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Because here’s the thing. Initially, when I finally faced the music that the farm was in a steep financial decline, I wanted to try everything I could to revive it in the same way my dad would have. With extra-sticky Band-Aids and good old-fashioned muscle. Something that wouldn’t involve tourists traipsing around my crops day in and day out. Something that would make my dad proud he’d handed the business over to me. But like it or not, times are different now. Band-Aids won’t work this time; I have to modernize. And modernizing costs a shit-ton of money.
Tommy suggested a few solutions: open a restaurant to bring in more income; take a contract with a major food supplier. The first option I was adamantly against because that would require real time and effort from Tommy, something I’ve never seen him give to this farm. There’s no way I could handle launching the restaurant on my own if he decided he was bored and didn’t want to helpanymore. And the second option was even more disgusting because it went against everything I believe in as a local farmer.
The only reason I agreed to open the restaurant with Tommy is because Madison dialed me by accident . . .
“And now,” Tommy continued, horrified, “you not only want me to develop the restaurant and find financial backers for it out of the goodness of my heart, but you want me to do it in six months?”
“Three and a half, actually.”
His laugh was so loud I had to pull my phone away from my ear, which did nothing to help the chafed pride I’d had to swallow to make the call in the first place.
“No. Even if I wanted to make that happen, I wouldn’t be able to build something from the ground up that fast.”
“It’s not from the ground up. I want to renovate Granny’s old greenhouse for it.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . well, that’s actually a great idea and very compelling. Not to mention less red tape since it’s already an existing structure . . . but—no! Doesn’t matter! That’s an immense amount of work.” I could hear his intrigue tugging against him. Tommy has never been able to resist a good concept.
“If anyone’s up to the challenge, it’s you. You’re the best in the business.”
Again he laughed, knowing me too well. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that? I haven’t talked to you in a year and now you call and blow smoke up my ass because you want something?”
“Is it working?”
“I mean, yeah, a little . . .”
“Great. Listen, I’m aware we’re not best friends, but if you could help me make this happen, I’d really appreciate it. Also, I sort of already promised someone else that itwouldbe happening.”
I could sense his gloating before I even heard it. “Oh, this is good. You reallllly need me to do this. I’ll consider it if you grovel.”
“Hell no. Just say yes or no and be done with it.”
“Tell me I’m actually the better Huxley son and I’ll do it. And that I’m better looking. And smarter.”
