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As if reading her mind, Jen said, “I hope Luke is wearing a cup today.”
“In and out,” Annie said to herself as she got out of her car and grabbed the box of sandwiches.
Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she walked around the parked forklift and toward the big rig, which was already laden with several crates of apples. The loading area was a patch of dirt right off the side of the road, and if there weren’t machinery and a massive shed, it’d look just like a turnout. The apple trees were planted right up to the road, endless rows taking up miles of the countryside. The smell of sunshine and Granny Smiths wafted through the air.
There was no one in sight.
She walked over to the shed and peeked inside. The doors were pulled open, and she called out.
“Hello?”
No response.
She wove around the equipment, looking quickly for any sign of life. The low hum of the floor-to-ceiling cooler buzzed, and she tried not to think about what had happened at this place the last time she was there.
But when she saw the stack of hay bales in the corner, a flash of heat and the memory of how Luke’s skin felt against hers hit her hard.
Off in the distance, a small engine roared, and it was growing closer. Annie rushed out of the shed just as a four-wheeler came through the trees, around the corner, and into her line of view.
“Oh. My. God.”
Luke pulled up, shirtless and sexier than ever. The sun reflected off his tan and incredibly chiseled chest, and Annie suddenly couldn’t swallow correctly. He parked right in front of her and hopped off. Confidence dripped off him—much like that tiny bead of sweat currently sliding from his sternum to his impressive abs. Not that she was staring.
“What great service.” He smiled, taking the box from her hands.
She tried to come back with something, but found it hard to speak. She was too busy trying not to drool.
Good Lord, the man was better looking than she remembered. Low-slung jeans that were dirty from working the orchard, and flank after flank of muscle that wound down his hard stomach and strong chest. Aviators and a ball cap covering his dirty blond hair completed the I’m-a-hot-farmer look, and Annie was reminded real quick how she got caught up in Luke the first time.
“When I heard that there was this new little café in town, I just had to try it.” He set the box on the four-wheeler and faced her. “I’m glad you got your place, Annabelle. I’m happy for you.”
His words were coated with so much sincerity it made her eyes sting. She had never kept it a secret that she’d wanted a place of her own. Something she’d created and could be proud of. Something she could build a life around that had nothing to do with her mother, her past, or her social class.
“I know you’ve been working on this for a long time,” Luke said a little lower. “I’m really proud—”
She cleared her throat, cutting Luke off, and tried to get her damn brain to work. The look in his eyes promised more sweet words, which she couldn’t handle. She needed to keep her composure. And she needed to get out of his presence. Now.
“Where is everyone else?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s twelve sandwiches here.”
“They’re all for me.” When she frowned, he said, “Your grandma informed me that you only deliver on orders of twelve or more.”
Of course she did.
“Great. Well, the total is forty-eight dollars, then I’ll be on my way.”
“So soon?” Luke stepped toward her, that six-pack of his flexing and making her body do stupid things, like tremble. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“I said my piece at the bar last night.”
He smiled and ran a palm over his stomach where she had slugged him. She could now see why her knuckles had been sore. The man was a brick wall.
“And I got your message loud and clear,” he said with the same sexy smirk that had landed her in trouble two years ago. He took another step forward, and Annie couldn’t get her legs to move.
He took off his sunglasses and hooked them through a belt loop, then looked her in the eye. Big mistake, because those intense green eyes were enough to drop a woman to her knees. And she would know.
