That hit home. The truth was, neither did I. I worked in the city. Pencil skirts and high heels were my uniform. Mimosa brunches and Friday night cocktails were a weekly staple. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized that those things weren’t really me. I did them. I enjoyed them. But maybe something was missing.
I draped my arms over Cole’s shoulders as he grabbed my hips. “I had fun,” I confirmed.
“You looked like it,” Cole agreed.
“Maybe I should do more farmer things?” I suggested.
“Or …”
“Or?”
“Or maybe you could do this farmer instead,” Cole offered as he bent down and sucked on the pulse point in my neck making me groan.
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
A moment later, I was in the truck and we were bumping down the dirt track back toward the house.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over at Cole.
He was gorgeous. With his hard-set jaw and determination etched on his face. His hand rested dangerously high on my thigh, turning my normally smart brain to mush.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
Cole’s words didn’t give away anything, but I was happy to go along with him. He wasn’t about to let me down.
I gulped. “Thank you,” I began, needing to say something.
“What for?” he asked, turning to look at me and slowing.
“For letting me spend the day with you. I know you would’ve got things done much faster without me tagging along. And probably with fewer accidents, too.”
“Grace, you never have to thank me for spending time with you. If I didn’t want you out here with me, I would’ve said. And as for my hand …” Cole reached down and tangled his fingers with mine. “My day’s work isn’t done until I’m bloody, bruised, or aching.”
“That can’t be true!” I protested, hoping he was exaggerating.
“Yesterday, a cow stepped on my foot and my toe is probably broken. It’s definitely a nice shade of purple.”
“Cole!”
“I’m fine,” he brushed it off. “It’s just how it is out here.”
“Or maybe you’re just clumsy,” I countered.
“Maybe. But you know what I am good at?”
There was mischief in his eyes as he slowed his truck to a halt and jumped out leaving me confused. I slid behind the wheel and bumped through the gate, coming to a stop on the other side and waiting for Cole. He latched the gate and climbed back in, bending over and placing a soft kiss on my cheek before focusing his attention back on the wheel.
I waited a minute for Cole to finish his story, but he stayed stubbornly silent.
“What were you going to say before?”
“Before?”
“Before you opened the gate. You were telling me what you’re good at,” I reminded him.
“You need me to tell you?”
“Yes!” I huffed, exasperated.
