Just Want Somebody to Love (Bella Warren Book 1) (13 page)

“If we skip it now, you’ll be wanting it in a half hour. It won’t be an option then.”

“Take what you can while you can?”

“Yep.” She nodded.

“Is that a life motto?”

“It is when it comes to coffee.”

“Not to life, though?”

“Nope.”

“Considering how we met, I’m going to have to disagree with you.”

He hoped for a smile. He didn’t get one. Just a firm set of her mouth. “One night doesn’t define a person.”

“Excellent.” Ah, perfect response and he hadn’t even been trying to get it out of her like the ruthless businesses man he was. “Then you forgive me for standing you up?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Very well. I forgive you for that. Not for the embarrassment you’ve caused me, though.”

Well, it was worth a shot. “Do I still get coffee?”

“I’m not that cruel. I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to spend time bent over a dirt row without some coffee first. This way.”

He chuckled as ideas of her bent over filled his head in a millisecond. He shook his head to get them out. It had to be too early for that kind of thing. She climbed the stairs in front of him and yeah, okay. Knowing that would be possibly facing him all day just livened this up. So all right, maybe it wasn’t too early for that kind of thinking.

He followed her through a little house that was no doubt the set for some old black and white TV show. The door even let out a friendly creak as it opened. The inside was filled with more yellow walls than he knew what to do with. Good God, was that a real stuffed blue bird stuck on the wall or a fake one? He wasn’t sure which was worse. He followed her down a long hall that emptied into a kitchen. He stepped under the entryway, and his breath was sucked out of him. The room took him back in time to when he was still a kid.

Scratches and nicks marked the front of the golden cabinets. The edge of the beat up countertop was worn under his thumb, and the barstool let out this perfect squeak as he settled on it. For a moment, it was fifteen years ago.

Hell, maybe even as long as twenty years, and he was in his mom’s kitchen, having a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice before running out with Brandon to get to school on time.

“Creamer?”

He blinked and looked across the counter to Whitney. She looked even more of a mess now that she was away from the glaring morning sun. Huh. She had freckles all over her nose and cheeks. Yesterday afternoon there’d been dirt smudged so much that he’d missed them. Then before, she’d had on makeup. He smiled to himself. He kind of missed the dirt now that he thought about it. Sure she’d been filthy, but with that wild hair of hers and even wilder style, the mud fit her.

The corner of her lips turned up this little bit and had his thumb itching to rub over the spot before she let out a soft chuckle. She waved a hand in front of his face. “Anyone home in there?”

He blinked and got his momma’s kitchen and the ideas of touching Whitney out of his head. He could think on both later, and not at the same time. “What?”

She shook her head and pushed sugar and creamer at him. “I think it’s a good thing we came after coffee.”

A silver Thermos was pushed at him. He stirred and added what he liked. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“How about tomorrow morning? Say, same time?”

“Same time that you were supposed to be here this morning, or what time you actually got here?”

“Ouch, woman.” He rubbed his chest in mock pain. “You don’t cut a man any slack, do you?”

She rested on her elbows, putting her closer. “Not very often, but to be honest with you, the time you get here tomorrow doesn’t matter.”

He nodded and tried to stay focused, but he increasingly grew distracted by her pretty eyes. “Good.”

“I don’t know that I would say good, because you showing up is going to depend on if you’re able to move in the morning.” She winked and sipped from her coffee. “I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

Oh, burn. He liked it. Hell, he liked her. A few hours of sleep and waking at the asscrack of dawn, he never expected to like anyone. “We’re sticking seeds in the ground. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay.” She smiled and lifted the Thermos. He didn’t think he wanted to know what her smirk was about, but he liked the shape of her mouth. Her lips were light pink and pouty. Again, the desire to rub his thumb over them struck him. Until she went and licked at a drip off coffee on her upper lip. He cleared his throat and leaned back before closing the distance across the countertop to do more than touch her hands.

She straightened as well and tapped her hands around her Thermos. “I hope getting your brother to sign is what you want.”

Business. Exactly where his head needed to be. “One hundred percent. We’re right there and so close to seeing something happen that we’ve dreamed about since we were kids.”

He lost count how many times they’d lain awake and talked about how one day they were going to be businessmen and everyone would know them and buy from them. Their commercials would be on TVs across the country, and they’d have billboards with funny sayings on them. At the time, they didn’t know anything about their “business.” They had a dream in their hearts for fortune and that was all they needed. The restaurant and bar came along later.

The rich aroma of coffee filled him with blessed heavenly fumes as warmth slid down his throat with a jolt of awakening. Between the caffeine and knowing his dreams were within reach, he was ready to get this started. Having Whitney at the end was a bonus.

She leaned forward. “I’ve been trying to figure out how your brother is so gung-ho with this whole family thing, yet, I haven’t ever heard about you before.”

“One of life’s biggest mysteries.” Or maybe fate was throwing out some irony? More like it being ornery. “He’s all about family, but moved to this town to hide from his wife.”

Her eyes widened. “Bartender Brandon is married?”

His coffee hit the back of his throat right as her words registered and caused a snort. Hot liquid shot up his nose. Coughing out a lung, he set his Thermos down. “What did you just call him?”

As she stared, her eyes narrowed, then widened to big discs. “Uh, we didn’t know a lot about him when he moved here. Still don’t really. And Bartender Brandon just fit, but he’s married?”

Justin cleared his throat. Hmm, he hadn’t realized his brother was keeping that a secret. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, but hell, if it got around, it might be more fuel to add to the fire Justin wanted under his ass. “I guess he still is. Last I heard, they’d separated.”

She shook her head. “I guess that explains things.”

Interesting. “What things?”

She swatted her hand. “Nothing. We should go before Wade tracks me down, and I have to start the day out on his bad side.”

Oh, but it looked like they were just getting to the good part. He didn’t get up from his spot yet. “If I asked you out for coffee, would that be okay?”

She tipped her Thermos at him. “I hope so, since you already did.”

He blinked and laughed. Right. He already made plans to come back in the morning. “I think I need to wake up before talking again.”

“If you can stay awake during Wade’s speech of how to treat the plants, then you’ll be okay.”

“Plants? I thought we were putting some seeds in the ground.”

“Nope.” She turned a light off, but with the sun coming through the backdoor, the room remained bright. “Seedlings. We start them early in a greenhouse so we can harvest a little earlier before the heat of summer comes.”

“Real plants then.”

“Yep. The plants are Wade’s babies. If you kill one, bury it fast before anyone sees.”

“I’m curious to know how many you’ve buried.”

“Over my lifetime?” One of her hands flicked in the air. “Lord, I have no idea.”

“This season?”

“I lost count three days ago. The things are delicate.”

Even with her whole get up, with that white blond hair and short height, he had a hard time picturing her being rough with anything. Of course, she’d been aggressive that night with him. She jumped down the front steps and her big rubber boots mashed the grass as she marched across the lawn to the barn. What a woman.

Well okay. Not how he expected this morning to go, but he followed. This could only get better from here. He caught up alongside her. “What all does this speech entail?”

“Everything spilled out in hundreds of long details that you don’t want to listen to.”

“Sounds like a few meetings I’ve sat through. Will there be a PowerPoint presentation?”

She laughed. “He couldn’t run PowerPoint if his life depended on it. He’d pull slides out of the attic.”

“A projector. Nice. I like this idea.”

“Don’t give him any ideas because I’m serious.” She stopped at a white plastic structure and pushed along the front of it until two sections parted. A man about his age stepped out.

He was tall with dark hair. He tugged on Whitney’s puffball of a ponytail. “Somebody woke up.”

She swatted at who had to be her brother. “I’ve been awake for a while, thank you very much.”

“Because you haven’t fallen asleep yet?”

“You want me to work today, you need to go on.” Her eyebrow cocked, full of sibling teasing. Justin couldn’t help but smile, but then it died. Things used to be that way between him and Brandon.

Her brother lifted his hands. “If you’re going to work without me nagging, I’m gone.” He met Justin’s stare with a smile and an offer of his hand. “Wade Chester.”

“Justin Rawlings.”

“Thanks for coming out.”

“No problem.”

“We were just getting started. A few are already on their way into the field. Come with me and we’ll get you set up.”

Whitney flicked her wrist out and pushed through the opening of the greenhouse. “I’ll do it. Finish whatever you were going to do.”

Wade eyed his sister as she walked by. The teasing that had been between them slid away. “I want him to learn it right.”

She poked her head through the plastic doors. “Those who can’t, teach.” She tipped her head at him. “Come on, Justin.”

Justin lifted a shoulder toward her brother. “Can’t argue with that.”

He shook his head and pushed his sunglass into place. A heavy breath let out of him. “There’s a lot of her you can’t argue with.”

Justin chuckled and followed after Whitney as she mocked her brother’s words. He rubbed his hands and glanced around the room that burst with green plants. “What are we planting today?”

“I don’t know yet. Depends on what my options are.”

Humidity coated the air, which was fifteen or twenty degrees warmer inside. This room was no doubt a hot bastard by the time the sun got up and going. Metal shelves lined the walls and stacked eight rows high. Three quarters of them were loaded with trays of plants no more than four inches high. “All of these will get planted?”

“Yep. It goes pretty fast after you get started.”

“I bet it’s a pain to get everything in these tiny pots.”

She lifted a shoulder and pushed a wheeled cart from the backside of the room to the center. “It’s not so bad. It’s a long day, but we start in the morning and finish around a campfire with hotdogs and marshmallows. It’s just family and a few close friends. It’s kind of nice, really.”

A fire and friends surrounding it? It was easy to picture. Hell, he’d had those kinds of days growing up.

He followed her as she walked by shelves of plants. She studied each one and made faces at several. They all looked the same to him. Green with leaves. “I don’t even know how you can tell them apart.”

“The leaves are different. You just need to know what you’re looking at.”

He leaned forward to try and puzzle one leaf from a different one when her chuckles stopped him.

She shook her head. “Sorry. Okay, yes, the leaves are different and my brother can tell all the plants apart with a glance, but we’ve lined them in the same order for as long as I can remember.” She pointed at the set of shelves by the door. “Peppers, onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, and so on. Then we plant them in the same order outside on the fields.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m leaning on corn.”

“I like corn.”

“I do too. But there’s also watermelon over here. And those aren’t so bad to plant either.”

“Watermelon is sweeter.”

“True, but you have to walk more with watermelon. The corn gets planted closer together while the watermelons are spaced by a few feet, so there’s less bent over, but more walking across the fields and just all over the place. You pick, First-timer.”

The watermelon sounded like he wouldn’t have her nearby as often. “Let’s go with the corn.”

“All right then.” She pulled the cart over the gravel floor of the greenhouse and stopped in front of a tall shelf that looked to be growing some sort of wide-bladed grass. She grabbed a tray that held eight planters. Each planter had six plants. “Grab as many as we can get on this cart.”

He set his coffee aside and added corn plants. He didn’t want to do the math, but the number of times he would be bent over filled his head, and maybe watermelon would have been a better idea after all. They were getting into the hundreds here.

She added another tray to the lowest shelf and dusted her hands. “Did you bring any gloves?”

“You didn’t tell me to.”

She made a face. “I thought I forgot that. It’s okay. We have extra. And they’re clean, too.”

She reached in a basket and came out with a pair of purple-blue cotton gloves and tossed them over the handle bar of the cart. Sexy. She lifted two small hand sized shovels from a bucket and placed them on the tray. “Let’s get out of here before Wade comes back.”

He grabbed the front of the cart and pulled it until reaching the doorway of the greenhouse. He let it go to hold the plastic door aside as she pushed the cart. The cool wind left a chill on his sweat dampened neck. “I’ll push. You tell me where to go.”

She didn’t hesitate and let go of the cart to point as she stepped to the side. “We’re going to the backside, around that little bend over there.”

“Hmm. Taking me out back to take advantage of me?”