Harvest of Love: Insta-Spark Collection

I needed him to be here. Why it was so important, I had no idea, but I needed it—I needed him.

I opened my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I would go in and see if he was there.

My door opened and, startled, I snapped up my head, meeting Noah’s warm, concerned gaze. He reached out his hand, and without a thought, I placed mine in it and let him pull me from the car.

“Hi,” he murmured. “Gabe told me you were out here.”

“Hi,” I whispered back, calm spreading through me, leeching out the tension in my shoulders.

“You found your way back.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

He reached up, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear. He pulled gently at the long strand, wrapping it around his finger and rubbing it with his thumb. “I was hoping you would.”

The moment felt intimate and private. It seemed as if the entire world had disappeared around us.

“I needed to see you,” I confessed.

He stepped closer. “Are you okay, Dani?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. “I am now.”

“What do you need?” he asked. “Tell me.”

I didn’t know how to tell him what I needed. I didn’t know what I needed. Why I had this burning urge to see him—be close to him. I had never experienced anything like it before today. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m out of apples.”

He snickered. “I can help with that.”

“And cheese.”

“You came to the right place.”

Bravely, I inched closer, inhaling his warm scent. “I wanted to see you. I was…I was hoping you’d be here.”

“I’m always here.” He looked down at our clasped hands. “You’re shaking again.” He frowned. “Did you have another attack?”

“A few,” I whispered. I didn’t want to tell him how the one today frightened me. Since I’d been alone, the feeling of not being able to breathe had been terrifying.

“Did you eat today?”

“I ate an apple.”

“Then I’m glad you’re here. I was about to have lunch. You’re going to join me. And not a word about me getting into trouble. I’m on a break.” He grinned—his wonderful, wicked smile. “Then we’ll get you some more apples.”

“And cheese.”

He smirked. “And cheese.”

He wrapped his arm around me, tucking me into his side. I fit under his arm like I was meant to be there. My entire body relaxed under his touch, and I laid my head against his shoulder.

He nuzzled my hair, his lips ghosting over my forehead. “Come on, my girl. I need to look after you.”

His girl.

I liked how that sounded.

I relaxed even more.

He led me around the back, escorting me to a table on a large deck. I sat down in the chair he indicated, and he shook his finger at me, telling me not to go anywhere again. I had to smile at his silliness. A few other tables were taken across the deck from me. They were relaxing with coffee, conversing quietly.

The view of the open fields was breathtaking. The light breeze on my face felt so good, and I reached up, pulling my hair out of the ponytail and letting it fall down past my shoulders. The air lifted it, the strands swirling in the breeze. It was so peaceful here.

Noah sat down, sliding a large, pink-colored drink in front of me. The glass was icy with condensation, and pieces of strawberries and lemons floated with mint in the glass. He smiled, leaned over, and tucked my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my lobe, caressing it gently.

“Good,” he breathed. “You’re not as pale as when you arrived.”

I smiled at his observation and picked up my glass. “Delicious.”

“Strawberry lemonade. One of Gabe’s specialties. He made the iced tea you had last time as well.”

“Do any other members of your family work here?”

He grinned. “We’re a close group.” He stood. “I’ll go get lunch.”

I sipped my lemonade, enjoying the view. Noah came back carrying two plates. He stopped at a couple of tables, chatting with people, his smile wide and his laughter ringing out in the air.

He sat back down, sliding my plate in front of me. “I hope you eat chicken.”

I nodded, looking at the huge sandwich in front of me. “I don’t think I can eat that much chicken.”

“Eat what you can.”

“Today’s special?”

“One of them.”

I bit down and groaned softly at the flavors. The focaccia bread was light, the taste of the rich olive oil and rosemary bursting in my mouth. The chicken was sliced thin and piled high, with a creamy goat cheese spread and sliced tomatoes so fresh, the juice ran down my chin.

Noah chuckled, leaning forward and brushing his thumb under my mouth. He winked as he slipped it into his mouth, licking it clean. “So sweet,” he murmured, his eyes darkening.

I looked down at my plate, feeling a pleasant warmth rush through my body at his actions.