I hum in understanding. “How much longer until it’s over?”
“Another week. Maybe two. Depends on the weather,” he murmurs, voice low and syrup-slow. “Production’s already slowing down.”
“What’re you gonna do with all that free time once it’s over?” I ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You finally gonna relax for once?”
A small smile curves his mouth. “Nah. Like my dad always says, there’s always work to be done around the farm—even when there’s no harvest.”
I trace my palm down his arm, feeling the solid curve of his bicep. “Like what?”
He bites his lip. “Maintenance. Pruning. Mowing. Fixing equipment.” His eyes soften, turning thoughtful. “I was also thinking about fixing up the old barn this winter.”
I tilt his face to meet mine. “For the wedding venue?”
He nods, swallowing slowly. “Yeah. I think I wanna do it.”
Pride blooms warm and steady in my chest. “You should. It’s a great idea, baby.”
His smile turns shy, a pink glow painting his cheeks. He shifts closer, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. “I wouldn’t have the confidence to even try if it weren’t for you.” He goes quiet for a beat, then presses a soft kiss to my throat. “I’m really glad you moved to Claremont Shores,” he murmurs. “And I’m glad you wanted to be business partners.”
I tighten my arms around him. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Ash.”
He chuckles softly, the sound fading as sleep pulls him under. Within minutes, he’s breathing deep and even, tangled in my arms—warm, safe, and right where he belongs.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ashton
Olivia’srustedbeigesedanis packed to the brim, overstuffed totes crammed into the back seat and wedged into every spare inch of space. She slams the trunk shut with a grunt, leaning her weight into it until it finally latches. Then she swipes at the sheen of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.
Her blond hair is pulled up in a neon pink scrunchie, though a few stubborn strands have escaped, clinging to her temples in the late-summer heat. She’s wearing leggings and a loose T-shirt—a comfy outfit for the three-hour drive back to Lakeview University.
She’s been at college for three years now, but saying goodbye hasn’t gotten any easier. Even if Lakeview University is only a few hours away, we don’t see each other nearly as often as I’d like. I’ve cherished our summers spent together in the orchard, memories of sunburned shoulders and long days of grueling hard work.
By this time next year, she’ll have her degree. She’s talked about traveling the world once she graduates—maybe moving out of state, maybe even out of the country. Every time she says it, a mixture of pride and dread swells in my chest.
I know I’ll miss her. I already do, and she hasn’t even pulled out of the driveway yet. But more than anything, I want her to be happy. I want her to achieve her dreams.
Selfishly, though, part of me wants her to stay my baby sister forever.
The whole family crowds around Olivia’s car—all seven of us gathered together to say goodbye. The late-August air feels thick, heavy with heat and tension.
Dad stands a little apart from the rest of us, arms crossed tight over his chest. He hasn’t said a single word to me since that dinner two weeks ago. Not hello. Not even a question about how the final stretch of harvest went. Nothing.
I’d almost prefer a critique or a burst of anger over this suffocating silence. At least then I’d know where I stand.
The disappointment in his eyes, the few times they flick in my direction, is what really guts me. I’ve seen that look before—when I handed him the wrong tool in the barn, when I miscalculated the spray mixture, when I didn’t align the forklift just right.
But now, this is different.
Back then, his frustration was about my mistakes—things I could fix, skills I could sharpen. This time, his disappointment has nothing to do with my work ethic and everything to do with my heart.
If he knew I wasdatingTroy—if he knew we’re more than just friendly business partners, that I’m sharing a bed with him—I think it might actually send him into a second heart attack.
But maybe he already knows.
Maybe I couldn’t hide my lovesick eyes whenever I looked at Troy at the dining table.
The thought makes my stomach twist, sharp and sour.
