“What is this place?” I asked. “Does anyone live here?”
Mac shook her head. Her red lipstick was smeared a little, and I figured the evidence was spread somewhere on my skin. “No. Becca was staying here before she moved in with Will. And Chloe lived here briefly before that. But the tiny house was just something we had as a rental property at one time.”
I could see that being profitable, but also a huge hassle since it was on Grandpappy’s property.
As if reading my mind, Mac continued, “But it ended up being more trouble than it was worth. So we stopped renting it out to tourists and just kept it for ourselves. Will used to crash here a lot. Back when he overworked himself.”
I passed her half of an Italian sub before asking, “But Will’s not overworking himself anymore?”
She hesitated for just a moment, but then her gray eyes settled on me, and a small, shy smile graced her lips. “Yeah, he’s taken a step back from the farm. Actually, you’re looking at the new Manager of Farm Operations and Social Media Director.”
I straightened on my stool, surprised and pleased and happy for her. Mac had only ever worked at Grandpappy’s, as far as I knew, but it had always seemed like something she did to pass the time. Like it was more her family’s legacy than hers, and she was just in it for an easy paycheck and to have co-workers she liked.
But I could see from the way she was watching me that my reaction was important. And, if I had to guess, I’d say the shyness and reserve on her pretty face—so surprising and rare—was because she was tentatively pleased with her new role, and not in the smug way I would have expected.
I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Somehow, I knew I couldn’t praise her accomplishment or she’d brush it off. I couldn’t admit I was proud of her for stepping up and taking something for herself. I knew Mac well enough to know it would make her downplay her position and lash out as a result.
So I gave her an appraising look and said, “Are you telling me I’m banging management? Oh, can you maybe wear a little skirt suit next time? I think I could be into that.”
Mac laughed and reached across the kitchen counter to punch me on the arm and then steal my pickle spear. But I could see the relief in her grin, the way her shoulders relaxed from their tense, bracing set.
I grinned and snatched my pickle back. “I wonder if I can wrangle a title for myself at the orchard.”
“Oh my God. I knew you’d try to do that.” But she was still smiling as she took her first bite.
We ate and chatted for the next twenty minutes. She told me about the tasks she was taking off of Will’s plate and handling herself. It sounded like she was eager for the responsibility and happy with the change.
“So, my grandparents are staying another week,” Mac said as we finished cleaning up our lunch.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I thought maybe we could meet up here at the tiny house if you wanted. It’s close to both of our farms. Nobody will notice.” Her voice was tentative, as if she’d shared a secret with me and was waiting to see what I’d do with it.
Did I love the idea of a hookup spot for sneaking around? No, not really. But I had no one to blame but myself. If staying here made it easier for Mac and allowed her to sleep in my arms a little longer before returning home, then I wasn’t going to argue. I’d meet her here as often as she’d let me.
“Sounds good,” I managed evenly, sliding my vest back on.
She nodded, eyes bright and pleased. “Okay. See you tonight, then?”
“We have trivia tonight,” I reminded her.
“Oh, right.”
I brought my arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, sneaking in affection as much as we were sneaking behind the backs of everyone in town. “I’m thinking we fight during the third round. That way, we can get booted early, and I can come back here and make you dinner.”
She grinned. “I like the way you think. What do you want to argue about?”
I shrugged, ignoring the coiling tension in my shoulder blades. “We’ll figure it out as we go.” Then I pressed one last kiss to her lips before stepping away. “We always do.”
I added staged public fights to our secret arrangement portfolio, alongside a clandestine meeting place in the woods. It was all just another brick laid to build our deception.
Who was I to complain?I thought sullenly. I’d gotten exactly what I’d asked for.
I woke in a panic, gasping in a foreign room while cold sweat dampened my forehead. My eyes searched the low light of the small bedroom until I found Mac curled up beside me.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, unsure what I’d been dreaming of or why I’d snapped awake so violently. But everything was okay. We were at the tiny house, and Mac was still here. She hadn’t left yet.
Reaching for the end table, I snagged my cell phone and checked the time. It was only 12:36 a.m., barely morning.
