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Chapter One
Jackson Henley scrubbed his hands after a day of helping his brother, Christian, on the farm. As he washed away the dirt and grime accumulated on Shepherd Farm and Orchard today, he couldn’t help but recall the dirt and grime he’d picked up while on dig sites all over the globe. Jackson was technically Jackson Henley, Ph.D., but at thirty-one years old, he didn’t answer to Doctor Henley for fear of turning into a crusty old man who wore bow ties and merely spouted tales of archaeological finds instead of actually working in the field.
Currently, however, he wasn’t working in the field, was he? Nope. He’d been ripped off his last dig site in Brazil after his funding had been unexpectedly yanked out of his pockets. He’d been close to finding something big too. He knew it. All the little pieces of clay pots had been bread crumbs, but he wouldn’t be able to find the whole loaf if he didn’t get his ass back out there.
No money meant his ass wasn’t going anywhere but Maplehaven, Vermont though. Sure, it was wonderful to be with his brothers—even if they exploited him as a cheap farmhand—but he wasn’t like them. Christian, Landon, and Donovan were all older, married or engaged, and so tied to the small town they all grew up in that most of the time Jackson seriously considered that he’d been adopted. His brothers loved living in Maplehaven, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the town. Jackson just needed... more.
He’d found more too. A lot more. Out there. In the big, beautiful world. He’d visited every continent on digs before he’d turned thirty, had been published numerous times in prestigious archaeological journals, had guest lectured at some of the world’s best learning institutions, and had contributed to countless museum exhibits during his brief career. He was nowhere near done either. Once he found new funding, he’d be back at it, but sitting around Maplehaven made him itchy as fuck.
Jackson lathered up again, trying to excavate soil from under his short fingernails, then rinsed a final time. After drying his hands, he emerged from his brother’s bathroom and headed for the kitchen where something smelled wonderful.
“Beer?” Christian asked as he stood in front of the open refrigerator.
“You owe me at least that.” Jackson pulled out a chair at the dining room table and lowered, his back a little sore from hours of farm work and then hauling around flagstone with his brother as they worked on a patio project behind Christian’s farmhouse.
Christian gestured to his fiancée, Nicole, standing near the stove. “Hey, my woman is going to feed you too.”
“Don’t get overly excited.” Nicole held up a wooden spoon before plunging it into a large pot. “I rarely know what I’m doing here. Cocktails I can do. Cooking is a little iffy.”
Christian backpedaled over to her and kissed the back of her neck where a long, black ponytail hung. “You haven’t killed us yet.”
“There’s still time.” She leaned into him and Jackson wished his brother had delivered that beer already so he’d have something else to focus his attention on. Since he’d been back in Vermont, he’d been treated to an up close and personal look at all three of his brothers deeply in love.
It was kind of sickening.
It was also kind of sweet.
His brothers were the best guys he knew and they each definitely deserved a fine woman. Aliza, Tessa, and Nicole were phenomenal and clearly had a gift for overlooking Henley flaws, but Jackson would be happy to go a few days without seeing one or more of these pairs making out. Didn’t they get tired of being so... so... mushy?
As Christian and Nicole cavorted by the stove, Jackson got up and went to the refrigerator on his own. After pulling out a beer, he used the opener in the shape of a horse head on the wall and plunked back down in his seat at the table. He took a long swig and surveyed the now finished kitchen his brother had remodeled, liking the farmhouse sink, copper faucet and hardware, and brick backsplash. Jackson might not enjoy Christian’s PDA right now, but he could admire his brother’s renovation skills.
“If you don’t go somewhere else, Chrissy,” Nicole said around a giggle, “we’re never going to eat and Jackson looks hungry.”
Christian glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. “Are you sure? That might be his I-haven’t-gotten-laid-in-eons face instead of his feed-me face.”
“It’s my bite-me face.” Jackson took another drink.
“Random hostility only confirms my no-sex theory, my man.” Christian grabbed a beer for himself, opened it, and sat across from Jackson at the table.
“Leave the guy be,” Nicole said. “He helped you for hours today.”
“Yeah. That.” Jackson motioned to Nicole with the neck of his beer bottle. “Be nice.”
“My concern for your sex life is me being nice.” Christian pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and set it on the table. “Now let’s see. Who can I set you up with?” He tapped the screen, but Jackson slapped his hand over Christian’s.
“No one. I don’t want to be set up.” Jackson shook his head as he slid his hand from atop his brother’s. “I’m only here in Maplehaven until I get more funding.”
“So you have to be closed for business the whole time you’re here?” Christian furrowed his black brows. “I’m not saying I’m going to find you a fiancée—though I highly recommend it.” He blew Nicole a kiss and she blew one right back. “But you can burn off some steam while you’re here, man. You are wound up tight.”
“I am not.”
Nicole and Christian both stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“Okay, maybe I am, but not because my dick’s been neglected.” Jackson raked his hand through his mop of dark brown, nearly black, hair then rubbed his short beard before taking another sip of beer. “I was in the middle of something big in Brazil.” He puffed out a breath. “I want to get back to it.”
“Because it’s so awful being here with us?” Christian narrowed his blue eyes at Jackson.
“Of course not.” Jackson grinned. “Although keep working me to the bone on this farm or trying to set me up with someone and I might think differently.”
