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A nod.
“And you have to talk to me. Talk,” I repeated, “not yell. Not accuse. Not insult. Talk.”
A smile flickered across his lips. “You don’t make it easy to keep my cool.”
“We both have our work cut out for us, don’t we? But the weight of the farm doesn’t fall on you alone.”
“It doesn’t?” he asked, amused.
“I mean, like ninety-five percent of it is you,” I joked, “but you’re right—I need to consult you before I change anything.”
“You should have been doing that from the start, you know,” he noted wryly.
“So you could tell me no? Like the goats?”
“Which you went and got anyway.”
“Because you didn’t listen to me.”
“Because goats are assholes.”
“So are you.”
An amused noise.
“And we have to agree—and we’re going to shake on this, so listen close—we have to agree that we’re going to hear each other out.”
“Because I come to you looking for permission all the time?”
It must have been the way he was smiling down at me or the feel of my hand lost inside of his, but I became acutely aware of how close we were. I could smell hay and earth and sunshine on him, could feel his warmth radiating off of his body.
I rolled my eyes to cover. “One of these days, you’re going to need me to sign off on something, and I’m gonna make you kiss my pink rain boots as a condition.”
He groaned. I laughed.
“And we’re going to compromise,” I added. “Otherwise, we’ll never get anything done.”
A pause. A sigh. “All right.”
“Okay,” I said with authority, stepping back and extending my hand with no small amount of moxie. “Partners?”
Jake looked down at my hand, that hint of a smile on his face. When he took it, he met my eyes again. “Partners.”
“Great! So about Fourth of July—”
“Goddammit, Olivia—”
“If I promise there will be no loud noises other than the crowd?”
His eyes narrowed.
“It’s not a trick, I swear.” I held up a hand and crossed my fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
With a chuckle, he undid my fingers and formed them in the Girl Scout salute. “It’s not really convincing if you don’t do it right.” His eyes caught mine again. “How about you come to me with a list of what you want to do for the Fourth?”
“And we’ll collaborate?” I asked too eagerly.
“If you want to call it that.”
“And you won’t fight me?”
“I won’t fight you. Your ideas aren’t all bad.”
My face broke open. “That was almost a compliment. I feel like I won some kind of award.”
At that, he full-on laughed, that sound I loved so much, even when I hated him. Warmth flickered low in my belly, and before I knew it, I’d launched myself at him, flinging my arms around his neck. He barely had time to catch me. I felt him chuckling through his chest, through mine.
“Thank you,” I whispered next to his ear.
“I’m sorry,” he answered.
I loosened my arms, signaling him to set me down, which was really a long slide down the length of his body. The honest remorse on his face at the apology broke my heart.
“I’m sorry too,” I said.
“Now don’t make me regret it,” he joked.
I slapped him in the slab of granite he called a chest. “And I’ll repaint the door.”
He glanced behind me at the door, then back at me. “Leave it. I was wrong about Pop—he would have let you. He’d let you do anything you wanted, so I don’t have any place to stop you.”
A squeal that turned into a giggle bubbled out of me as I bounced like a little kid. “Thank you, Jake.”
“You know what? Don’t mention it.”
I beamed.
“No, I mean it. Don’t tell anybody—I’ll deny it with my last breath.”
With that little smile on his face, he turned, and this time I let him go.
Because I’d take what I could get.
And now that we’d be working together, he’d given me more than he knew.
15
Pajama Party
OLIVIA
“I’m just saying, based on your social media, farm life looks like it involves a lot of bullshit, literally and otherwise,” my aunt said on the other end of the line.
“Is it weird that I’m enjoying it?” I asked as I folded my laundry.
“Yes. I mean, maybe not the big, hunky bullshit. I could probably find a way to enjoy him.”
“I’m optimistic that we might have turned a corner. More bunny shit than bull. He’s even helping me with our Fourth of July festival.”
“I’ve been watching your Instagram. I’d say I was surprised at how well you’ve done with the farm’s marketing, but there was no way you could fail. This is your domain, and you reign absolute.”
“Trust me, I could have failed. I could still fail. I don’t have long to turn a profit, and if Jake changes his mind again, he could make it impossible.”
“And if you lose, you’ll come back to New York?”
