And when my eyes land on him instead, he doesn’t look away.
He only raises an eyebrow as if to ask why I can’t stop staring.
By the timethe meeting circles back to me, half of the attendees have already left. Rory and Tabby ducked out after a twenty-minute debate over Mr. Frederick’s fence line, claiming they needed wine to replenish the brain cells they lost listening to it, but Izzy stayed to support me, even though I insisted I didn’t need it.
And Ryder Blackwell, of course, is still in the back of the room.
I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head.
And as yet another neighbor-on-neighbor argument breaks out, I swear I can feel his breath on my neck too. A hard wall of chest muscle behind me. Thick thighs underneath me.
You know, it’s really inappropriate that men wear things like gray T-shirts and flannels out in public. If women get shamed for showing a little stomach or leg, men should get the same for wearing things like that.
Especially because it’s nothim.If some local guy showed up on my farm looking like that, I’d just pull him right into the bungalow and have my way with him. The only attractive men my age who show up on the farm are escorting wives or girlfriends, so the fact that he’s roleplaying my fantasy is a little bit unfair. Like he just reached into my brain and plucked out the thing that makes me go all mushy.
“Ms. Harper,” Mayor Reed says, turning his attention tome. Somewhere in my subconscious, I register the squeak of a chair moving. Footsteps behind me.
I sit up, giving him my most awake smile despite it being long past my albeit early bedtime. “I wanted to confirm that there will be protections put in place prior to work being started on the development next door. Specifically, the stream that powers the water wheel. Mr. Blackwell assured me they are taking frequent measurements of the water level, but as far as I know,measuringsomething isn’t the same asprotectingit.”
“Well, Ms. Harper, measurements have to be taken prior to work happening or else no one knows whether the stream has been protected or not,” Mayor Reed says, seemingly taking the words right out of Ryder’s mouth.
“Right, but measuring is not the same as protecting,” I repeat, letting out a quick burst of air to alleviate the tightness growing in my chest. “Mr. Blackwell mentioned that the stream will have to be diverted, and while I understand the need for measurements, I don’t think it’s good enough to have a plan todivertthe stream without having amatchingplan to preserve it.Thatplan is the one I’m interested in.”
Mayor Reed shrugs, his eyes flicking behind me. “Mr. Blackwell, thoughts?”
I don’t realize he’s taken up the seat right behind me until he speaks, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “Diverting the stream is the best solution we can think of right now, but not the only solution. If Ms. Harper is willing to work with me to find another one, I’d be more than happy to entertain her ideas. However, measuring the stream now and at regular intervals is the best way we can ensure and guard against anything—whether we divert the stream or not—affecting water levels.”
I turn, fixing him with narrowed eyes.
“Ms. Harper, does this sound reasonable?” Mayor Reed prompts, and I whip around to face him.
“All I want is protection. I want to know that the town council will put a stop to any construction or development that will negatively affect the namesake farm of this town. This isn’t just important to me—this is important to our town’s history. Our tourism business. I just want to know that someone will step in if something goes wrong.”
Mayor Reed sighs. “Eve, we’re not going to approve any development plans that don’t make sense for our town. I can’t promise you nothing will ever change, but no one is going to intentionally harm the sunflower farm.”
“Unintentional harm is not really an acceptable answer for me. The water wheel has been functioning for decades. It’s a historic part of our community, highlighted in almost all town tours. It’s not good enough to me, to say, ‘oh well, new apartments went up, so screw the water wheel.’”
Mayor Reed rolls his eyes. “No one is saying ‘screw the water wheel.’ But Eve, you’ve had multiple opportunities to protect your water wheel in the past that you haven’t taken advantage of. If you want to protect your farm, you have to learn how to give a little.”
I rear back. “What does that mean?”
“I’m just saying that our historic committee is in here every month defending and protecting buildings in our historic registry.”
I blink. “Not this again. Seriously?”
He shrugs. “You’d have a lot of people fighting on your behalf. The power of the people behind you when it comes to big-shot developers breathing down your neck.”
Ryder shifts, as if he’s trying to avoid doing exactly that.
I bite my lip to avoid screaming at him, and Izzy squeezes my knee. “So you’re telling me that because I didn’twant to register the water wheel as a historic landmark, you’re going to take it away from me?”
He holds his hands up, shaking his head. “Not at all. Every moment of history in this town is important, whether it’s registered or not, and I, along with the rest of this town, want to protect that history,” he says. “But registering historic buildings as such brings us state funding, which allows us more wiggle room to protect them. It lets us fund projects that help our town”—he motions to Ryder behind me—“while protecting our long and beautiful history.” He motions to me. “But if you don’t want to contribute to that, there’s not much the historical society can do for you.”
I purse my lips, letting out a long breath. “So if I register the water wheel as historic, you’ll help me?”
Mayor Reed holds up his hands to slow me down. “I can’t make any promises like that, and I certainly can’t speak on behalf of the rest of the historical society. But I do think you’ll find some fierce supporters if you decide to register the water wheel, and especially if the situation between you and Mr. Blackwell becomes contentious.”
As if it isn’t already.
