I eye him, suddenly wondering just how much of this hedidset up. And how much does Nora know? I find it hard tobelieve she one day decided shemustvisit the sunflower farm, especially considering she’s still recovering. But based purely on a first impression, she seems like a nice woman.
Which—and I’m sure this is exactly what Ryder intended—does warm me to him a little bit. Maybe he talked about me and she decided she wanted to come for a visit because she’s just interested in her grandson’s life.
Not that Iwanthim to talk about me.
We shared one kiss in the sunflowers that I’ve been obsessing over every moment since.
But he’s everything I can’t get involved with. The developer next door who claims he just wants to get his grandmother walking to the park again.
Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can see he’s just telling me what I want to hear in order to get me to agree to that stupid easement.
And while my lonely, untouched and unheard heart longs to continue that kiss we started in the sunflowers, my brain knows that no one is looking out for the sunflower farm except for me.
I’ve already given up everything for this farm. My grandmother, who worked herself to an early grave to keep this place running. The degree I never finished and the lack of education that now chains me to this place, for better or for worse.
This place is my home. My livelihood. My everything. And if it’s in his best interest to destroy it, I’m going to do everything in my power to stop him.
Even if that means giving up a connection that—as much as I don’t want to admit it—feels a little bit like home, too.
Ryder shakes his head. “I apologize in advance for my grandmother.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Something tells me she’s not the problematic one here.”
“Says the woman who took a few grand of electrical work and then ran away without a word.”
“I think we all know there’s a little more tothatstory,” I say, doing my best to keep my smile plastered to my face.
Gam waves her arms in front of her. “Alright, lovebirds. Save the bickering for after the tour, okay? You two have all night.”
Ryder visibly swallows, his eyes wide.
So Gam knows about our kiss. Ryder must, in fact, bequitethe talker.
She grins as she steps toward me, hooking her free arm in my elbow and abandoning Ryder behind us. “Shall we?”
I nod, falling into step with her and directing us toward the sunflower fields. “We shall.”
Givingmy spiel is like slipping into an old pair of boots.
I’ve been giving these tours since I was in high school, wandering easily around the farm and pointing out the different varieties of sunflowers we grow, the wildflowers along the driveway up to the farm, the native plants that are preserved on this land. I give the story of the old footbridge at the edge of the property, noting that there’s a picture of it in its prime in the gift shop, my grandparents standing in front of it with proud smiles on their faces.
I tell the story of the old chicken coop and add in a new anecdote that it’s gone unused for a good decade until recently, when it housed a fugitive rooster whose only crime was doing what it naturally does.
As we finish up the portion of the tour where I word-vomit on everyone because there are too many words to say about the sunflower farm and not enough time to say them, Gam takes control of the conversation. We walked a little slower than I normally would on a tour, so we’re still on our way back to the backdrop for an end-of-tour photo and pick-your-own-bouquet.
“You know, the last time I was here, I was visiting your grandmother,” she says, nudging me lightly with her elbow. “We were friends in high school, and let me tell you, when I saw that photo of you on Ryder’s phone, I could have sworn it was her, fifty years ago.”
I glance over my shoulder at Ryder, who’s been following a few feet behind us with his hands in his pockets for most of the tour.
He only shrugs.
“Instagram, I presume?” I ask, remembering our conversation when he told me she caught him creeping.
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t look at my Instagram too,” he interjects.
An Instagram ofnothing. While I would have loved some embarrassing high school pictures or at least some indication of his character, I got nothing but a few nondescript city buildings and a graduation photo in which he looked disappointingly handsome.
I decide to just ignore him for now.
