I swear I can hear him swallow. “Absolutely beautiful,” he repeats, his voice low.
But when I glance at him, he’s looking at me.
I clear my throat and turn back to the window, my heart thumping.
But when I surreptitiously shift my eyes back to him a few moments later, his eyes are focused on the window, his hands held loosely around his bent knees. He looks surprisingly comfortable for having been forced into a dry bathtub with a woman he hardly knows.
And I’m surprisingly comfortable having him here.
We sit in silence for another twenty minutes while the sun sets, and when we finally turn our attention back to each other, we’re bathed in darkness.
I can barely make out his features as my eyes adjust to the dim light, but I’m pretty sure he’s grinning at me.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says, making no obvious moves to get out.
I take my first deep breath in what must have been half an hour, between sprinting to the parking lot to grab him and running right back here to sit in the bathtub. “It’s one of my favorite parts of the farm.”
He nods. “I can see why. That was an incredible view.”
I glance out the window again, the sky nothing but a dark blue gradient brightening toward the horizon. “I always wanted to put a little deck out here to capture that view, but we had some problems getting the tub inside, and—well, I wanted it enough that I knocked out the damn wall. There was no other way in, you know? So, no money left for the deck or anything, but I think it was worth it.”
His eyebrows rise. “You knocked out the wall for the sake of a bathtub?”
I shrug. “My stubborn side leaked out a bit. Someone was giving it away for free—said it had been used less than ten times—and I called in every favor I had. Got Izzy’s brother to help me pick it up in his truck—and we ended up calling in two of my guys to help because this thing weighs a metric fuck ton—and when we couldn’t get it in the front door, I said fuck it and told them to knock out the wall because I refused to have this tub sitting randomly on the farm as a place everyone stops to take a picture because it—like the watering cans and the old wheel barrows and the rusted old bike baskets—is filled withsunflowers. I had a vision and I wasn’t going to stop until it came to fruition.”
He laughs softly. “You probably could have just paid for a new one to get installed at that point.”
I gesture to my prized window. “But then I wouldn’t have this.”
He nods, his eyes dancing across the dark room. “This is pretty damn cool.”
“I think this barn is my contribution to the farm,” I say, admitting aloud the thing that has always bothered me about inheriting this farm. “So much of it was already done for me. There were already processes in place and everyone was used to the way things were done. And I had no indication ofwhythings were done in a certain way, because I wasn’t supposed to inherit this place so young, you know? I was supposed to have time to learn. A degree to draw from. Some sort of experience running the place instead of just running blindly through the sunflowers.” He nods, his eyes locked on mine. “For the sake of not blowing things up immediately, I told everyone to just keep doing what they’re doing. Over time, I expanded on the gift shop that was already there. Added the portion of the business that does teas and pressed flowers, which really is only tangentially related to the farm and I only came up with it because Tabby has a tea shop. But this barn is all my own. Designed by me, fixed up by me, rented out by me. It might not be sunflowers like the rest of this place, but it has my stamp on it, you know?”
“It’s really beautifully done. You may not have had experience with it, but you’re obviously a fast learner. Savvy. Willing to take the occasional, calculated risk, if this tub is any indication.”
I snort. “I’m not sure they’recalculatedrisks.”
“What are they, then?”
I shrug. “Something I wanted and hoped that other people might too.”
“How is that not a calculated risk? You saw an opportunity in something you wanted and took it.”
I let out a quick breath. “I guess. I just feel kind of constantly overwhelmed, you know? Like this whole place is just too much for one person to take care of. My grandmother did it, but she had help most of the time. My grandfather, until he passed. My mom when she was young, even though she wanted to do literally anything else. And I just have me.”
He stands, holding out his hand to help me up. “Well, you’re doing a good job, Eve Harper.”
I roll my eyes as I take his hand and stand, thankful that the darkness will hide the blood rushing into my cheeks.
“Thanks,” I murmur, because his hand is still in mine even though I’m standing on my own two feet.
It would take the gentlest of tugs to pull me right against his chest. The subtlest tilt of my head to brush my lips along his neck.
I swallow down the thoughts racing through my brain.
“Well, we should probably continue on the rest of our tour if you want to actuallyseeany of it.”
He nods. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”
