Rearranging plants on the orders of a woman who just blew into my life a day ago and is very insistent she’s leaving before too long.
Don’t get attached.
But I think I already am.
I think I'm attached in a bone-deep, life changing way.
And after that little victory of her reaching out and squeezing my arm to say good night, I don’t think I’m going to fight this attachment anymore.
Chapter 12
Hope
The second morning on the ranch, there aren’t as many mature leaves as there were yesterday.
“Some days are a lighter pick than others,” Luna says when I express surprise at how quickly we get through our harvest. “Once we get this packed up, we can go check for eggs in the chicken coop.”
Magic words for Bellamy. Her eyes light up. “Chickens?”
They terrify her, but she’s captivated nonetheless. And Luna knows it.
I really like working with Luna. She’s quiet, efficient, and very funny—today’s t-shirt is a chubby caterpillar with a speech bubble that sayseat the rich.Plus she doesn’t mind that I have to always keep one eye on Bellamy. Not only that, but she does the same.
And she’s figured out that Bellamy has a rhythm that is easier to work with than against.Hence the chicken talk.
“And then after we collect eggs, I might take some time in my studio to paint,” she adds. “You’re free to do whatever you want around the ranch.”
That sounds lovely but… “If there is any other work for me to do, I’d be grateful for the extra hours.”
“Oh. Right, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that.” She taps her finger against her chin. “In that case, if you wouldn’t mind harvesting the rest of the spring onions in the octagon. Those are for us toeat over the next week or so. Then turn over that bed and plant the tomato seedlings that are at least five inches tall.”
Grateful, I nod. “Can do.”
“But first…chickens!”
Bellamy takes off like a shot, already knowing the way.
As we follow her, I catch sight of Zane on the far side of the horse paddock. He’s loading something into the back of his truck. He’s wearing work gloves and a cowboy hat pulled down low over his eyes so all I can see is the hard line of his jaw and the edge of his neat moustache.
He grabs another bundle—old wire, I realize—and slings it into his truck, his shoulders bunching and flexing with easy strength.
His t-shirt today is black, so I don’t know if it’s damp, but it’s clinging to him all the same.
I know I shouldn’t notice that, shouldn’t be thinking about him likethat. But I’m drawn to him all the same. Like last night in the library. And he’s…easy. Safe, in a way Derek never was.
Zane Kincaid promises my nightmares can’t get me here, and I want to believe him.
If that’s true, then looking at him isn’t hurting anyone. And there’s a little piece of my soul that desperatelywantsto look, to covet, to desire.
Like it’s an act of rebellion, a fuck you to Derek and all of his rules.
I shouldn’t have touched Zane last night, though. That was a mistake. The warmth of his body will be hard to forget. The way desire swarmed through me as soon as I curled my fingers over his skin…that was potent. And I think he felt it, too. My gaze slides from his snug t-shirt to his muscular arms.
"He's a good man," Luna says softly.
I startle. I didn't realize she'd come to stand next to me. “Yes, I—” I swallow hard. I know he is. And I know it’s wrong to covet him. “I would never take advantage of your kindness and hospitality.”
She snorts. “My son is twice your size and probably ten years older than you. If you can take advantage of him, more power to you.”
