I tilt my head and look at Bray. We get on each other’s nerves a lot, and we bicker like teenage sisters, but it’s good to be reminded that he loves me.
“Thanks, Bray,” I say, resisting the urge I have to pull him into a hug. “You don’t need to worry.”
He mimes strangling someone, laughs, and then leaves.
By eleven, I’m caught up on all the most urgent things on my desk, and I can’t stop wondering whether Bray actually gave Jack a job for the day.
I come out of the office to see who’s about. Maybe I’ll run into Jack.
Do I want to run into Jack?
Who am I kidding? Of course I want to run into Jack. Even though I’ve been busier than the devil himself, images from last night kept pushing into my brain anytime I wasn’t one hundred percent committed to whatever I was doing. It was easier topretend that Jack was just some good-looking guy from New York I had a walk with before last night—not that it had been easy. But I’d been able to tell myself that whatever we shared that evening wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
But last night?
Last night had been anything but ordinary.
He knew my body like he’d designed me himself.
Every touch seemed to bring with it meaning. Like he’d crawled inside my brain and seduced me and then did it all over again with my body.
And I yearned for him.
Yearned to have him in my mouth, to feel him deep within me. To feel his come on my skin. I’d never experienced what it was like to reallywanta man before Jack. I would have done anything he asked of me last night.
And now? I can feel him between my legs, his teeth on my skin. His mouth on mine.
And I just want more.
I never want to give him up.
It’s stupid. I know it’s a hopeless situation. I know I don’t want to hope for more than I already have. Everything in my brain is telling me to stay as far away from Jack as I can.
But my brain doesn’t have rank over my heart. Apparently.
The barn my office is carved out of is used for stock overflow and right now it’s completely quiet. It’s really only used at the peak of the season. So I head out to see what’s going on.
There are people everywhere. Crates of packed fruit are piled up left and right, waiting to be put on a truck. And I can see pickers heading into the packing barn with the fruit that’s just been picked. Different customers have different packing requirements. But most want the fruit divided into packs that can be taken directly off market shelves. The fruit needs to besorted through and weighed and those boxes put into crates for shipping.
Everything is picked, packed, and shipped same day. There’s no point in letting picked fruit sit around in the sun to go bad. It’s better staying on the tree or plant.
I try to scan the workers to find Jack. But I don’t see him. I don’t really know what I’d be looking for. When he was at the ballet, Jack wore what looked like a custom navy suit. Even in Grizzly’s last night he was wearing an expensive shirt and jeans that probably cost as much as a day’s worth of fruit.
I hope he didn’t turn up this morning in brogues and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. My brother might have kicked his ass just for that.
Just before I’m about to turn to head into the house to get a beverage, I spot him.
I don’t know why I thought he’d be missable. He stands tall—he must be at least six-two—and his wide smile is unmistakable. He’s carrying a crate of just-picked fruit, so he can’t wave, so I wave at him. He only hesitates to wink at me before heading into the packing barn.
I try to think of a reason why I’d need to be in the packing barn. But really, there isn’t one other than to ogle the man I spent the night with last night.
“So how do you know this guy?” Bray makes me jump as he comes up behind me and catches me watching Jack.
“Bray!” I say, swiping him on the arm. “What guy?”
Bray chuckles. “The one you’re staring at now. He’s a good worker, I’ll give you that. A little chatty, but he picks things up fast.”
“You got him on the strawberries?” I ask.
