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“Love you too.”
I slip my phone into my pocket and turn, my hand flying up to press against my racing heart. “Shit!”
“You lost?” Kyle asks as he approaches.
His eyes shift away to the crowd of cattle on the other side of the fence, no longer on me, so I steal the opportunity to study him.
I have a type. Or I’vedateda type.
Professional, polished guys who wear polo shirts and majored in business. Who are tone-deaf and like to golf on the weekends. The total opposite of the scowling, rugged cowboy who smells like soap and sunshine.
At least, Ithoughtthat was my type.
Because I’m suddenly,annoyinglyaware of how attractive Kyle is.
He glances over, raising one eyebrow. At first, I think he’s calling me out on checking him out. Then, I remember he asked me a question.
“Just looking around. Is that not allowed?” There’s a bite to my tone that I don’t mean to add, but can’t seem to temper. It’s not his fault I’m distracted by him, but I’m blaming Kyle anyway.
“Would it make any difference if I said no?”
I huff and look away. Sick of staring at the hard line of his jaw and the hint of stubble that suggests he didn’t bother to shave this morning.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Would it make any difference if I said no?” I parrot back.
Silence, during which I have to squash the strong urge to look over at him. I watch the cows and wish I could restart this entire conversation. If he would stop sneaking up on me, maybe I’d be better prepared for our interactions.
“Work call?”
“No. My brother.”
No response, and I wonder if I should have lied.
“You know, the label is offering you—”
Kyle walks away, leaving me leaning against the fence. I stare after his retreating back, annoyed his rudeness isn’t enough to keep me from appreciating the broad spread of his shoulders.
With a sigh, I turn and head for the farmhouse.
Mabel is in the kitchen, same as yesterday morning. Instead of strawberries, she’s washing a massive bowl of blueberries, which she adds to an even larger bowl.
“Good morning!” I force a cheeriness I’m not feeling into my tone.
She offers me a small smile and a nod. “Morning.”
I glance at the bowl. “More jam?”
“Muffins. A neighbor dropped these off this morning. They won’t be ready for a little while.”
I nod before helping myself to a bowl of cereal. The coffee is weaker than I like it, so I add less milk than yesterday.
I watch Mabel fill a tray of muffin tins as I eat my breakfast. Search for a neutral topic that might help me figure out a better plan than my current one—hope Kyle magically changes his mind.
“Have you lived here for long?”
She nods, focused on the batter. “Thirty years.”
