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“Mom will appreciate having her kitchen stocked when she returns.” He opened her door for her.
“She told me just the opposite—that I should finish anything in the pantry since she likes to shop when she comes home.”
“Does she?” He didn’t bother closing her car door since she hadn’t slid inside the vehicle yet. He headed around the front to get in his own side. “Then help yourself to anything. It’s not like I can return groceries.”
He turned over the engine on the BMW i8 while she begrudgingly took a seat beside him. “You shouldn’t have bought so much.”
“But on the bright side, at least you had enough coffee to go with the pie.” He put the vehicle in reverse, liking the hint of her scent he caught as he glanced back over one shoulder. “Was I right about the French silk?”
He glanced down at the stick shift and ran an appreciative gaze over her thigh that was almost within touching distance. Was the fixation with her a result of leaving baseball and not having enough to occupy his brain? Or had it simply been too long since he’d found time to date? Of all the women he could have chosen, why was he so damned taken with a mystery woman who’d made it clear she didn’t want to get to know him better? Today’s “truce” was proof of that since they’d agreed to not ask each other questions.
To just let it be.
Something he’d never been very good at. Drive, determination and outright stubbornness were the secret to his success.
“The French silk was amazing. But I thought the coconut cream that I tried for breakfast this morning was every bit as good.” The hint of bliss in her sigh lit a fire inside him. “But it begs the question—how did I end up with a half pie of each? Do they sell half pies?”
“No. I bought two pies and divvied them up. I gave the other half of the coconut cream to Gramp, and kept the other half of the French silk for myself, leaving a whole pie for you.”
“Your grandfather needs to bulk up and you’re clearly a man who can afford a lot of calories.” The once-over she gave him was damned flattering. “Yet I’m the one who ended up with the most pie?”
“I call that Texas hospitality since you’re the newcomer to Last Stand.” He gave the vehicle gas as they reached the county route that ran along the south side of town, enjoying the smooth acceleration of the high-end sports car. “But if you have trouble polishing it off, I’m right next door.”
“I’ll manage somehow.” There was a hint of humor in her voice, as if she wanted to be amused but couldn’t quite allow herself to have fun with him.
Because she was scared to get close to him? Worried she’d let something slip about the past she didn’t want to talk about?
He couldn’t help wanting to see her smile, no matter what she was hiding. He might be wary of her, but she’d clearly made an impression on his grandfather, and that counted for something in Cal’s book. He liked knowing that Josie was concerned for the older man, enough to keep an eye out for him when Everett went for walks. She couldn’t be all bad.
“So what do you want to see today?” Cal asked as he slowed down for a truck with a horse trailer in front of him. “I’m going to the Rough Hollow roadside stand first, which is close to the main barns and the manager’s office. Once we’re there, we can take one of the trucks or utility vehicles to check out any of the orchards or crops.”
“Ideally, I’d get a list of everything you grow, then I can research while you drive so I can tell you the things I want to see. The only thing I know for sure I want to check out are the hives.”
“Do we need bee gear for that?” The wind in his hair helped air out the tension that had been knotting him up since he’d come home—worries about his mom, about Josie, about Gramp.
Convertibles were good that way.
“Definitely not. Although we might want to save that stop for later in the day when the bees are calmer.”
“I feel like, as a matter of personal safety, I should at least have some sense of your bee experience.” He glanced over at her as he turned into the parking area for the roadside stand.
Her eyes were on the building in front of them, surrounded by a half dozen cars, and decorated with hay bales, hanging pots of flowers, and bushel baskets of peaches.
Beneath the simple décor, the Rough Hollow Farm and Orchards sign needed painting, and the whole building was in worse repair than his grandfather’s house. It ticked him off to think his father had done so little to help out in the last few years. It was one thing to be unwilling to go into farming. But would it kill his dad to offer financial support to the business that had been in the Ramsey family for over a hundred years?
“This is so charming,” Josie announced. “It looks like it should be in a magazine. A slice of Americana.” She turned bright blue eyes on him, excitement lighting up her whole face.
Over what, he wasn’t quite sure.
“It’s seen better days.” Although Cal had been avoiding his father, it became clear to him now he would have to make a visit to Clint Ramsey and plead his grandfather’s case.
If the Ramseys were going to keep Rough Hollow, they needed to take better care of the business.
She peered over at him and then back to the business. “It’s a farm stand. It’s not supposed to look like a Whole Foods.”
He would have argued the point, but she was already opening her door to check out the place.
Too late, he realized that his sports car was on the flashy side for Last Stand. A few people milling around the peach baskets were now looking his way, openly curious. Cal swore at himself for becoming a baseball cliché, because this was exactly the kind of stunt his father used to pull, and Cal had always hated the added attention that his dad seemed to enjoy.
