“I’ll just have toast.” Her stomach rumbled. She had a day and a half ahead of her that involved mucking out, meeting two of her first therapy clients and then looking at one of the other outbuildings as a potential holiday let with an architect. There wasn’t going to be time for lunch, or to shop for lunch.
There was a cackle of laughter from her sister. “Just go and ask that hottie next door to give you some eggs?”
“Can’t you do it?”
Immy’s response was an evil grin. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you were the only woman in that room yesterday who’s knickers weren’t creamed from just watching that kiss, then going to see your neighbour, who kindly fixed your tyre, shouldn’t be an issue.” Imogen pushed her glasses further up her nose. They were oversized and a statement, because Immy was all about statements. If the girl hadn’t become a lawyer, she’d have totally gone into fashion. She just liked arguing too much.
It wasn’t the first time Lainey had been kissed hard in public. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the receiving end of a fake kiss. She’d been someone’s fake fiancée for nearly a year while he’d saved up enough to manage independently after he came out to his parents.
Only Gerrard Holmes’ kisses had never left her in the slightest bit breathless.
“Jake Maynard is one of the most annoying men I’ve ever met and I’d rather limit seeing him, if it’s alright with you.” She got the bread, a sourdough loaf she’d picked up from the bakers a couple of days ago.
Imogen laughed. “He’s your neighbour, a farmer and you live in a farming community in a small village where everyone knows everyone. Lainey, if you plan on avoiding Jake Maynard for the next few years, you’re going to be seriously disappointed.” Her attention went back to her phone, probably some make-up tutorial.
“You could go ask him for eggs.” Lainey stared at her sister’s head, hoping that the glare would act like bullets and Imogen would go just to avoid the pain.
“No. It’s too much fun watching you squirm.” She didn’t even look up. “And the longer you leave seeing him after last night, the worse it’s going to be.”
“I have two hours before my first new client turns up.”
“And her consultant from the hospital is with her, so this is a biggie.” Imogen put her phone down and stood up. “You get eggs, make something awesome with them, and I’ll start mucking out two of those stables. When do the two horses arrive?”
Lainey had almost forgotten about that. She’d bought an Appaloosa gelding and a pony from a trainer who was renowned for the therapy animals she worked with, and they were also arriving today. “Four. Crap. I’ve got more on than I thought. Can you go into town and stock up with food?”
“As long as you go and get eggs now. I promise I won’t spy.” Imogen grabbed her coat off the pegs that were half falling down, gave her an evil grin and scattered.
Pulling her own jacket off the pegs a little too roughly spelt the end for them, the old bracket hitting the tiled kitchen floor with a crack.
She groaned. Another thing to add to the list. At some point in the next few weeks, Ava Callaghan, another of Lainey’s cousins, was coming up from London to put a plan together to help her renovate the farmhouse and look at the plans for the cottage she’d be using as a holiday let. Lainey had a budget for it, a decent one which meant she’d be able to get the kitchen she’d always craved, because cooking was her therapy.
The air outside was chill, and she made a point to close the door firmly behind her. Jake’s farmhouse was situated through a gate in the boundary wall, suggesting that at one point whoever had lived in these buildings had been good friends.
The two farms were mirror images of each other, built at the same time and sharing a septic tank, for which clear expectations were drawn up in a lengthy legal document to ensure that was something they couldn’t fall out over. Although there was no doubt they’d have plenty else to argue about.
Lainey slipped through the gate and into Jake’s garden, which was nothing like she’d expected. Rows of raised beds neatly tended for late winter extended down one side. There was a massive greenhouse with an array of plants inside it and towards the bottom, she could see what looked like a gardener’s wet dream; shaped hedges and pruned roses, everything else hidden.
Her neighbour was obviously dedicated to his land, which was a good thing, considering how much of it he owned. As well as having the neighbouring farm to hers, Jake owned the next one along, the retired farmer still living in the farmhouse while Jake tended the land, growing crops and keeping livestock. He had a reputation that he shouldn’t, given his age. Early thirties. Single. Wealthy.
A pain in the ass.
His voice filtered through from the other side of a newer wall, talking to someone called Anya, then Willow. She frowned, wondering if, like Shay, he had a harem of women that served his needs.
Through the second gate she saw a large hen coop, prettily carved with a large covered run, although the hens were free ranging in what was a walled garden, filled with fruit trees. She closed the gate, knowing exactly how damn hard it was to get an escaped hen back in to where she needed to be.
Jake was bent down, head inside one of the henhouses, collecting the very thing Lainey had come for.
Only it wasn’t the eggs that had her attention. Her neighbour had a seriously nice ass, with his jeans doing everything they could to keep her eyes on it.
“Come on, Willow. Let me have those eggs.” There was a pause. “Ouch!” He pulled his hand away and shook it.
Lainey laughed, hoping that whichever hen had just pecked him got some extra treats.
Jake turned round and rubbed his face with the hand that wasn’t holding an egg. His glare became a grin, one that was plain dirty.
