“Nothing like a bit of burnt contract to bring out the flavors in the burgers,” Jarred keeps his smirk to himself but I shoot him a dry look. I probably should have put it in the recycling but there was something very satisfying about seeing that posh office paper go up in flames.
Jarred flips the burgers and my stomach roars to life. “I take it your old man’s still trying to drag you away from us small town folk.”
I slap him on the back. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty much stuck with me.”
“God help us all,” Jarred calls out.
I smirk and flip him the bird as I join the other pickers on the logs. We had to cut the thick pine trunks down to make room for the packing facility but instead of shredding them we’d turned them into benches.
I sink down into one of the carved out seats and stretch my legs out, crossing one ankle over the other.
August is mid picking season for the orchard so the seasonal workers have been here for almost a month now. We’ve got seven this year all set up in the bunk house. Javier, George, and Jenna are returners, having worked here the last few seasons,but the others are new. That tends to be the way with seasonal jobs but we have a better retention rate than most because I make a point to pay good wages and provide decent digs.
The group’s gelled really well this year and I sit back and open my book, enjoying the banter being thrown across the patio. My dad can send as many contracts my way as he likes but I’m exactly where I want to be. Why would I trade sitting out in the sun and working with nature, literally growing living things from scratch, for suits, meetings, and stuck-up business tycoons?
My life is just how I want it. Or at least it was until Lola Ford swept back into town like a goddamn tidal wave. Now all I can think about is having her in my bed. Those deep brown eyes gazing up at me, the purple streaks in her hair splayed out on my pillow.
Fuck. No.
I’ve read the same paragraph three times so I close my book and run a hand over my face, as if I could literally rub the image of Lola from my mind. Like that isn’t a battle I lost fucking years ago. Snapshots of her stain my memories. Lola jumping off of Lovers Ridge. Lola dancing in a truck bed. Lola driving off with Max after I specifically told her not to.
“Getout of the damn car, Lola.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Relax, I’ve done this a hundred times before and I’ve got fifty bucks riding on winning this race.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your bet. Street racing is illegal.”
There’s that eyeroll again. The one that has me thinking thoughts I should not be thinking about my best friend’s littlesister, even if she’s far more adult than child now. Though clearly her mind hasn’t matured that much, or she wouldn’t be out here on the coastal road with a bunch of Viper MC kids, driving a car that’s barely holding itself together.
“I swear to god, Lola, get out or I’ll drag you out.”
Lola just revs the engine and blows me a kiss before stepping on the pedal. Hard.
I shakeoff the memory of one of Lola’s worst decisions and take a swig of the soda George handed me.
I promised myself I’d keep my distance from Lola, for Mase’s sake if nothing else. And that starts with not daydreaming about her under the summer sun.
“You alright there, Roman?” Jenna asks, her ponytail brushing her shoulder as she tilts her head. She’s attractive by anyone’s standards but does absolutely nothing for me because apparently my body is only attracted to one, frustrating, stubborn woman.
“Yeah, fine,” I say.
Javier shakes his head. “Nuh huh, I know that look.” He smirks at me from the log he’s sprawled across. “The boss has got woman troubles.”
I shoot him a glare. “No, I do not.”
“You sure about that, boss?” George asks. “Because that mighty fine whirlwind looks like she’s heading straight for you.” He takes off his cap and tips his head in the direction past my shoulder.
I twist around to see what he’s looking at and my stomach flips. I’m a grown goddamn man and my stomach flips.“Firebird,” the nickname falls out on an exhale, like she’s in the very air that I breathe.
Lola walks across the grass, sunlight dancing through the tree leaves and dappling on her skin. The orchard comes right up to the stables, stopping only a few meters away, and Lola makes her way down the makeshift path like it’s an aisle.
She’s in a white sundress, the skirt clinging to her legs in the breeze as she walks.
One of the newer guys wolf whistles and Jenna smacks him on the shoulder so I don’t have to. I stand up and walk towards Lola, steering her away from my childish workers and the whoops and hollers at my expense.
I cup Lola’s elbow in my palm and guide her towards the A frame porch over my front door. “Is everything okay?”
Lola doesn’t answer straight away, her gaze locked on where I’m still holding her elbow.
