“Especially with your lewd frame of mind.”
“Ha, you’re hilarious.”
“And you’re the one who coined CornHub.”
I pick at some lint on the blanket. “You’ve got me there.”
“I appreciate your wild and adventurous spirit.” The gleam in his gaze returns.
A twitch crooks at the corner of my lips. Volleying with an equally sweet comment is a seamless move. Instead, I allow a trickling melody of silence to dance between us. The chatter cocooning us hasn’t dimmed, the unintelligible murmurs providing a gentle backdrop. He studies the huge black screen in front of us. Based on how intimately the sun kisses the horizon, I would estimate the movie reel spinning soon.
Reeve peers over at me. “Any interest in going to a football game?”
I knit my brows. Attending a sporting event had occurred to me as an option. I didn’t know where to begin with possibilities, though. “Iowa doesn’t have a pro team.”
“Damn, you’re cute.” He chuckles and lightly nudges me in the ribs. “I meant high school.”
And now I want to hide behind a tree. “Ah, that makes more sense.”
“Certainly does. So, wanna go?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I’m a fan of the game. Did you ever play?”
“Offensive line. I was a tight end,” he explains.
“No past tense about that,” I whisper.
“If that does something for you, I still have my jersey.”
“How about the stretchy pants?”
“Ball huggers,” Reeve corrects.
“Yeah,” I purr.
It might be my imagination, but he seems to bend closer. The blue in his eyes swirls with tiny specks of green. The usually cool combination sparks with fire. His hand barely brushes mine, but an unmistakable tingle zaps up my arm. Rather than retreating, he traces the center of my palm with his finger. This type of touch—whether by accident or very much on purpose is irrelevant—steps our harmless flirting up several notches. I suck in a sharp breath, and he notices.
Reeve shifts a safe distance away, taking his warmth with him. The absence of his touch is an immediate loss. His gaze burns into me, vivid depths swirling with undeniable want that I’m positive reflects in my own eyes. He leans in, ghosting the tip of his nose across my cheek. I tremble and tilt into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
I lick my bottom lip, preparing to eliminate this invisible barrier separating us once and for all.
“Hey, love birds.” The feminine voice has a coy lilt.
Reeve wrenches backward as if scalded. He glares at our intruder. She looks familiar, yet I can’t place her.
“Jamie,” he mutters.
Ah, his sister.
She giggles at the scowl marring his features. “I see you’re setting the mood early, hungry eyes.”
That gets a muffled snort from me. “Good one.”
Her gaze pings to mine. “You must be the elusive Audria.”
“Oh, that makes me sound so fancy.”
“You think that’s good? The way Reeve talks about—”
“Is there a reason you came over?” The force behind his words clangs with reinforced titanium. Why is he being so rude?
Jamie twists her mouth into a pout. “I just wanted to say a quick hello.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” I offer a wave.
Reeve’s expression remains stormy, clouds swollen with a torrential downpour just waiting to be released. He’s not trying to hide the hint in the least.
Jamie finally accepts that her brother isn’t interested in a group chat. She skirts to the edge of our claimed section of lawn. “Well, I should get to my spot before the movie starts or it gets any darker. No need to drag on my intrusion. It was great to meet you, Audria. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
The grin I send her lifts with sincerity. “I’d like that.”
She pierces her brother with a look I’m all too familiar with. In the near future, they’ll be exchanging words not meant for my ears. The strain melts from her face a second later. She wiggles her fingers, backing away. “Tootles!”
I return her gesture. Reeve mutters some semblance of a goodbye. When she’s nothing more than a fading outline in the dimming light, I swing my focus to him. He’s staring at his beer can hard enough to drill holes in the aluminum.
A swig of shandy chases the grit from my throat. “She seems… nice.”
“Yeah, she’s all right.” He grunts, the power of his RDF aiming directly at me.
Yikes. I blow out a thick exhale. A sludge gurgles in my stomach that’s unrelated to the few sips of citrus beer I guzzled. Whatever we shared before Jamie interrupted is long gone. We exchanged a moment of weakness. That’s all it was. But if that’s true, why do I feel like resuming from the point where we left off?
An eerie glow flickers to life on the screen as uncertainty creates a fog around me. I’ve never been more confused. Can we continue pretending nothing more is brewing? Should I slam the brakes before we make a mistake? If I don’t, what happens next?
Pages of field growth charts blur on my laptop. I’ve been staring at irrigation-system maps, crop-dusting schedules, and soil-saturation levels for hours. A deep inhale grants me a lungful of stale air. Usually, my job allows me to be outside, away from the confines of this stuffy office. That’s not the case once September arrives. With the harvest season gaining on us, it’s critical that every detail lines up exactly right.
With a low vibration, my phone skitters across the desk, offering a solution to my desperate need for a distraction. I peek at the screen, not realizing I’m holding my breath until it releases in a rush. It’s not her. Why would it be?
I answer with a swipe and tap the speaker button. “Hey, sis.”
“Reeve, I’m so glad you picked up.” The edge of panic in her voice rings louder than a dinner bell.
My chair crashes against the wall as I stand. “What’s wrong?”
“Calm down, brother. It’s not dire. I’m having a hose emergency. Can you get Gabby from school at four?”
I settle back in my
