And maybe that’s why I’m enjoying these romance novels so much. The men in these books behave exactly the way a man should with his woman. They treat her like a queen, keep her safe and protect her from everyone and everything. They will burn the world down in her honor, but above all else, they’re vulnerable with her in a way they aren’t with anyone else.
It’s the way I’ve always envisioned loving and settling down with someone would be like. It’s like these books are giving me the permission I need to be the man I want to be. All that macho bullshit should stay in the locker room or at the bar with the boys. When you’re with your woman, letting her see into your soul is the privilege that being in love honors you with. I don’t understand wanting it any other way.
With my eyes glued to the page, I'm twisting at the button, two below my collar, while reading a tension-filled moment that I'm sure will lead to this trouble-plagued couple figuring out their shit when the door opens, and I startle so much that I almost toss the book in the air.Almost.
"There you are!" my sister, Kymberly, calls out as she stomps along the concrete ground toward where I've parked my buttandthe tractor. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"Looks like you found me," I say, sliding my finger inside the book to keep my page, but turning it so she can't see the cover. "What can I do for you, Kym?"
"Feed truck came in and made a delivery, but the guys who counted it keep comin' up wrong." She brushes her light blonde curls away from her face and sighs. "Can you come over and help me do a recount, please? Those guys have tried four times already, and they’re drivin' me crazy."
With a chuckle, I hop down from the tractor and tuck my book into my back pocket. "Lead the way."
"I don't know what you're doin' in here hidin' away from work," she mutters, falling into step beside me as we headoutside, our feet sucking into the mud after an unusually wet month. "You know those guys you hired for help barely have a full brain between them."
"That's not true," I say, struggling not to laugh. "They're just not so great at math. They get distracted."
"You do know countin’ sheep is literally part of their job."
"Yeah, but I gave them one of those hand-held clickers for that. Makes it a heck of a lot easier."
"That's a relief," she breathes, adjusting the baseball cap on her head so her curls aren't in her face so much. "I’d hate to think of them missing one and leavin’ it out in the elements all night long. Oh, and don't think I didn't see you wasting time by readin' up on that tractor. What is this, anyway?" She stops abruptly, pulling the book from my pocket before I even get the chance to stop her.
"Hey, give that back!"
Gleefully, she skips away from me with the book held in the air. "Josh Oliver! I never thought I'd see the day you were skiving off your work duties to read aromancebook." She giggles to herself as she stops and studies the cover. I take that as an opportunity to snatch it back.
"For the record, I wasn’t wastin’ time because I've finished my chores. But in defense of my reading choices, I'll have you know that the romance genre isthebest-selling genre by far. Everyone should be reading it."
"Oh, I agree," she says, placing her hand on her chest whole heartedly. "I love me a good romance. I just never thought I'd see the day when my big brother was hiding out in the barn reading one. A dirty one at that. I know who Saffron Spark is."
I laugh and slide the book back into my pocket. "Our new neighbor threw one at me, so I decided to see what it was about. Turns out, I really like it, so I borrowed another."
"Wait up. You'll need to reverse a little there. Ournew neighborthrew a book at you?"
I explain how I startled Reggie when one of our sheep strayed onto her land—leaving out the self-pleasure details, of course—and how she threw a book out the window and I took it home. She's smiling by the end of it.
"She sounds like she has a bit of spunk. I think you like her," she sing-songs, nudging into me with her elbow. "I'll bet she justhappensto be real pretty too."
Giving her a smirk, I bounce a shoulder. "I haven't really noticed, and if I had, I wouldn’t be tellin’ my little sister about it.” I reach up and tug the peak of her hat so it’s covering her eyes and she yelps. “Now, come on. Let's get that feed count sorted so we can both be done with work for the day."
“You are no fun, Joshua,” she says, trying to get her hat sitting comfy on her head again. “Finally, you’re showing interest in something other than the farm and you won’t even talk about it with me.”
“Maybe I just really want to get back to reading my book.”
Kym rolls her eyes but follows me up to the feed house without any more questions, while I try to ignore the curiosity burning inside me over what happens next between this couple and if they ever make it past their problems. Or maybe I just really want to go and visit Reggie...
REGINA
Pouring myself a second glass of wine, I check the clock for the thousandth time before heading over to the couch and sitting down. I've been trying to finish reading the book Josh returned yesterday, but the idea of seeing him again has really done a number on my concentration. I think I've read the same page about five times already, and I have no idea what's going on.
Setting the book aside, I sip at my wine and scroll through my phone, trying to decide if I should just call it a night since I’ve been on my feet all day. I’ve unpacked as much as I can possibly fit in this cottage and stored the rest of it ceiling high in the spare room that was supposed to be my office. But I can’t see any way around it. Until I can get a storage unit or something, I’ll just have to work at the kitchen table with my laptop and drawing tablet.
Sighing, I pick up my glass and take a long pull of the fruity wine, noting the way my eyes stray to the front door like I’m some desperate schoolgirl hoping the hot boy in class got her note saying she had a crush on him and that he might call at any minute. Except I'm not a schoolgirl, and while Josh is hot, he isn't a boy—he's a farmer with responsibilities—so, I don't knowwhy I'm sitting here expecting him to show up asking for another book the same way he did yesterday. I mean, it's not like we had an agreed upon date or anything.
But why is it I feel so put out?
After scrolling social media for a few more wasted minutes, I decide watching a little mindless TV is in order. I have a habit of turning on movies then falling asleep ten minutes in, so it just might be the salve my overactive imagination needs to stop me from thinking incessantly about farmer Josh.
