She rolls her eyes at me. “You must be new.”
“I am,” I admit. “It’s my first season.”
“Well don’t get too comfortable. It’ll probably be your last.”
My jaw nearly drops. What a rude… Nope. I won’t stoop to her level.
“My name is Karen,” she says. “I’m the next door neighbor.”
“The next door neighbor,” I repeat slowly. Funny, I never thought about pumpkin patches having neighbors.
Then her name registers. Her name is Karen. Of course, her name is Karen. I nearly snort.
“Well, Karen, how can I help you?”
She looks at the line of parents and kids forming at the counter. “You might consider a better system for arrivals,” she says. “Because what you have going on here looks like total chaos.”
I keep the welcoming smile firmly pasted on my lips. “Thanks for the feedback. I’ll—uh—make sure to pass that on to the power that be.”
“The powers that be.” She snorts. “That’s a good one. I don’t think the Carver kids know the first thing about powers that be. Then again, that’s probably why their d-a-m-n business is failing.”
Over the radio, Lanie’s voice crackles. “Sending backup. Don’t panic.”
Karen smirks. “Too late.”
She’s not wrong. Full on panic commencing in three…two…one…
The office door swings open, revealing a tall dark-haired man. With broad shoulders hugged by a flannel shirt, and dark whiskers framing his chiseled jaw, he looks like he stepped out of a Hallmark movie.
If Hallmark movies were X-rated and came with a disclaimer. Warning: Objects on TV are even hotter in person. Staring too long may cause you to lose the power of thought and make you damp between the thighs.
All panic leaves my body—along with pretty much every thought besides wondering who the heck this bearded wonder is and whether or not he could benchpress me.
“Hey,” he says, his vision landing on me. “What’s going on?”
I notice the walkie tucked in his shirt pocket and work boots. He must be one of the Carver brothers. I’ve only met Dylan, and that’s because he gave me a ride up to the office from the employee parking lot.
What a shame. I wouldn’t have minded meeting this Carver brother under better circumstances.
Shaking my head from my stupor, I start to answer, but Karen leans in through the window.
“If you asked me, Quinn, I’d say someone”—she gives me a pointed look—“didn’t look at the schedule correctly to prepare for a bus-load of kids.”
His dark eyebrow shoots up and he glances at me. His electric green eyes pierce straight into me. My heart skips a beat.
“Is that true?” he asks.
I take a breath to steady myself. “Kind of. But it’s only because they put the wrong?—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” His tone is even. “We’ll get them settled and sort the paperwork later.” He gives a stern look to Karen. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”
She just scoffs before turning on her heal and heading back to the parking lot. What the heck was she even doing here?
I don’t have time to wonder. I grab the clicker and start tracking the number of humans young and old that make their way to the gate.
Quinn steps back outside to meet the growing number of teachers and children at the front gate. I watch as with a calm, no-nonsense ease he guides the group toward a collection of picnic tables.
When one of the kids trips near the gate, Quinn kneels without hesitation.
