He pauses, eyeing me before scribbling a note on his agenda. “The development next to the sunflower farm has been added to theendof the agenda,” he confirms, which is really just his way of letting me know I had better be prepared to wait through the next three hours of useless fights between neighbors, road closures announcements, and event preparations.
But a life of waiting for flowers to bloom means a few measly hours in a town meeting is easier than a Friday morning for me.
“I take it that’s also why you’re here again, Mr. Blackwell?”
I whip around, following Mayor Reed’s line of sight, and see Ryder Blackwell in the back of the room. He nods confidently, his arms crossed.
And…what the fuck is he wearing?
Apparently he’s had a total change in personality, because he looks like he’sfromhere. Well-worn jeans thatgrip thick thighs. A flannel over a gray T-shirt that highlights his biceps in a truly uncomfortable way. Work boots that actually have some mud on them.
He was freshly shaven the last time I saw him, but now there’s a smattering of stubble across his chin. Where his hair was gelled before, it’s just the littlest bit messy. A mildmorning afterlook.
I don’t realize I’m gawking until my eyes have dipped fully to his boots and back up to that chiseled face of his.
And he’s staring at me.
Smirkingat me.
Like he knows my lizard brain just switched on and now wants to eat him up.
I’m appreciative of the boom in tourism this town has experienced over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean I want to take any of them home. Tourists are great for business and it meanseveryonein town is doing better than before.
But when a pompous Manhattanite shows up on my farm without permission and startsmeasuringthings, I like them much less.
Except now the pompous Manhattanite is dressed like he might actually be able to hold his own on a farm. While my logical brain knows that the way a person is dressed is absolutely no indication of what they can do, some primal part of me wants to have him shirtless in the sun planting sunflower seeds.
And maybe the sprinklers accidentally come on a few minutes early andoh no, your jeans are all soaked!
I shake my head, quickly facing forward and focusing all of my attention on Mayor Reed instead, who has proceeded to the first line item of the agenda.
Izzy elbows me, and when I turn to face the girls, all three of them are grinning.
“You could have told us the developer was a smoke show,” Tabby says, glancing back at him.
Rory, who’s usually the quietest of our group, starts panting. She leans over and lowers her voice. “I’d let him develop my land, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, Rory!”
She looks over her shoulder at him again, then shakes her head as she focuses on Mayor Reed.
“All I’m saying,” Izzy takes over, “is that I have an idea about how you can protect the sunflower farm. It involves that man, much less clothing, and a little bit of whipped cream. Something tells me you’llcometo a very satisfying resolution.”
I can’t help my snort, and I elbow her before she can continue.
“Ladies,” Mayor Reed says, interrupting himself in the middle of his sentence.
“Sorry,” I say, waving at him.
“Something you want to share with the group?”
“I’d share him if you know what I’m saying,” Izzy murmurs, and the four of us break into a fresh fit of laughter.
“No,” I say over them. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” Tabby calls.
I struggle to keep a straight face as I focus on Mayor Reed. Izzy and Tabby’s snickers gradually fade away, and when I think no one is paying attention to me, I turn, searching first and foremost for the clock on the wall in the back of the room.
