I don’t think anyone takesmeseriously either. That’s beside the point, though.
But this crush could get real serious, real fast if I’m not careful.
Glancing at the foil-covered plate on my passenger seat, I contemplate turning back around. But it’s silly, right, to be afraid of spending time with a dear family friend? One I’ve known forever?
Or is it silly to scramble for an excuse—any excuse—to spend time with a guy who will never, ever want me back?
I look up, and my eyes catch on a smudge of something in the distance. Peering through my windshield, I watch as a tractor comes into view, kicking up a cloud of dust in a large field that appears to be planted with hay.
The tractor is enormous, a shade of John Deere green I’d recognize anywhere. It’s dragging a mower that makes quick work of cutting the hay.
Watching the tractor make a perfect, hundred-and-eighty degree turn at the end of a neatly cut row of hay, I’m gripped by the sudden certainty that Ryder is driving that machine.
Only he would still be working at—I glance at the clock on the dash—quarter past six. Cowboys start their days so early that it’s practically bedtime for them at this hour.
Not for Ryder. As the last remaining single dude out of all his siblings, he doesn’t have anyone to go home to. He’s always been a hard worker. Although sometimes I worry that he puts in such long hours because he’s avoiding something. His past, maybe? His feelings?
Whatever the case, the man loves driving a tractor. As luck would have it, I make a pretty damn great passenger princess.
I grin like an idiot and hit the gas. My heart pops around my ribcage as I approach the field on a dirt road that slowly becomes hardly more than a pair of shallow grooves in the pale earth.
Putting my car in park, I kill the engine. The low rumble of the tractor greets me as I grab the plate, push open my door, and hop out.
The green, grassy smell of freshly cut hay fills my head. Hint of diesel too.
I can’t stop smiling.
The tractor turns again, giving me a perfect view of the driver. My stomach takes a tumble when I see the familiar profile of Ryder’s face: square jaw, straight nose, full mouth. His overgrown hair curls out from underneath a backward baseball hat.
Christ, what is it about a backward hat that gets me every damn time?
The light catches on the gold chain he’s wearing around his neck, making it glint through the tractor’s windows. I can just make out the white tee he’s wearing. It hugs his shoulders and biceps in a way that makes my middle feel hollowed out.
The only possible thing that could make him hotter is if he were singing. Smiling.Sparkling, the way he did at the hospital.
I’m on it.
Throwing up my arm in greeting, I head his way.
CHAPTER 6
“She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy”
RYDER
I blink.
Blink again.
Then I lean forward, squinting through the windshield to get a better look. My heart launches into my throat.
Is that?—
Is she—but why—it has to be her—the dark hair, and the ridiculously enthusiastic, and ridiculously cute, way she’s waving?—
Wait a second.
Wait.
