She beamed. “Deal.”
I chuckled and draped an arm against the frame of the wagon. As I looked up to peer down the lane of apple trees flanking either side of the wagon, I caught Kayla’s eyes. She was still standing, bracing herself with one hand, and based on the way she was smiling at me, I assumed she’d heard my conversation with the little girl.
She gave me a knowing nod and turned her back to me as she started talking to the kids around her about the nutritional value of apples. She’d make a good mother. I could see her in a soft robe with a cup of coffee in hand in the morning coming down a set of stairs with a sleepy toddler in her free arm. Her hair would be a mess, and she’d be yawning, and I’d meet her in the kitchen with a coffee refill and a piece of toast with peanut butter.
I blinked. Since when had I ever fantasized about being a father? I gave my head a shake.
Since when had I fantasized about being a husband?
Chapter 12
Kayla
The tractor came to a stop. The wagon lurched but only a little, and the kids were on their feet as soon as we were no longer in motion. The parents and legal guardians got out first, followed by the older kids, and Lukas swung down over one of the guard rails. He landed soundlessly in the grass and met me at the back of the wagon to help the little kids get down. The girl he’d been teasing about apple picking refused to leave his side, and they wandered to the nearest apple tree, where Lukas scrutinized the apples diligently and told her they could most certainly be better.
“Never pick the first one you see,” he told the little girl. “That’s a good life lesson right there. Patience. Patience is key.”
“Patience is key,” the little girl repeated verbatim.
Lukas laughed.
I hadn’t heard him laugh this much since he was a kid—and a young one at that. By the time he was eleven or so, maybe even ten, his innocence was long gone. He was painfully aware of how little he and his mother had and how hard he was going to have to work to provide better for them. And he had. Before that time though, Lukas had his carefree moments. Moments of teasing, playing, and goofing around.
Seeing that side of him resurface with the little girl, Angelica, was a sight for sore eyes.
Mr. Doherty climbed down from his tractor and led the group three trees down where there were stacks of silver buckets. He told all the kids to grab one for themselves. For the children that were too small, a parent stepped in to carry the buckets.
The farmer approached the nearest tree and showed the kids how to properly pluck an apple from its branch. “All you do,” he said in a deep, warm voice, “is give it a little twist. You don’t want the stem to come out of the apple if you can help it. Like so.”
He gripped a red apple, twisted his wrist in a quick flourish, and pulled the fruit away from the branch with a soft snap. He held it up for the kids before wiping it on his plaid shirt and taking a bite. Juice sprayed his boots and his bite broke away from the core with a fresh popping sound.
“That’s all there is to it,” he said with a smile full of apple.
In less than ten seconds, the kids were rushing to grab their own buckets. Lukas passed them around and made sure everyone was equipped before Angelica decided to steal him for herself again.
She’d taken a liking to him. I couldn’t blame her. There was a lot to like.
I watched as Lukas moved along the row of trees with Angelica. She hung off his every word as he talked to her about the farm and trees. She asked questions, and he answered, and on the fourth tree, he paused and looked down at her with an arched eyebrow.
I moved closer to hear what they were saying.
“I think I might have found it,” Lukas said softly.
Angelica gazed up at him the way a child might at a mall Santa Claus. “Found what?”
“The perfect apple.”
“The perfect apple?” she gasped.
Lukas nodded earnestly. “Would you like to see?”
“Yes, please.”
I smiled at her manners and folded my arms as Lukas crouched down and lowered a shoulder. He scooped her up, balancing her in the groove of his elbow, and stood, holding her high so she could see what he’d seen.
He pointed at an apple nestled in the branches. “That one there. Do see you see it?”
Angelica nodded.
“Can you reach it?”
She nodded again.
“Stick your hand in there and twist it off like Mr. Doherty showed you,” Lukas told her. He stepped closer to the tree. The branches nearly swallowed him whole. They tugged at his suit jacket but he didn’t seem to care.
Angelica reached in. The leaves rustled and I giggled softly as she struggled but finally emerged victorious with a bright red apple clutched in her tiny hand. She held it up the way an athlete might hold up a football after the winning touchdown.
Lukas threw his fist in the air to celebrate with her. He took the apple, wiped it clean on his shirt, and passed it back to her. “Take a bite. Tell me if you think it needs caramel.”
Angelica considered the apple before taking a small bite out of it. All she got was skin. Lukas threw his head back and laughed.
I bit my bottom lip and cursed my ovaries for screaming like teenagers in a mosh pit.
Angelica bit again, this time breaking away a decent portion of apple. Her eyes widened with delight and she went in for more.
Lukas was still chuckling. “Is it good?”
She held the apple out to him. He took a bite out of the other side. I loved the way his jaw
