Hart's Hollow Farm (New Americana 4)

“Oh, okay.” Her mouth twisted. “Shoulda known. The most standard line in the book of men. Got any more?”

“And maybe,” he added, “I find you attractive.” He studied her balled fists on the ground, the lithe strength in her graceful frame and the passionate spark of her eyes. “No . . . Scratch that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen up close.” He grinned. “Except for Heather Andrews, maybe.”

She stayed silent, her gaze drifting toward his mouth, then asked, “Heather Andrews?”

His grin grew. “She was five years older than me and knew algebra like the back of her hand. Had long red hair, told the best jokes, and gave the softest kisses on earth.” He laughed. “I know only because I finagled a seat beside her on the school bus every day. I had the biggest damn crush, and she must’ve known, because on the last day of her senior year, she kissed me good-bye right here.” He tapped his left cheek. “I was thirteen and felt it for days.”

Smiling, Kristen sat back on her heels and scratched her chin. “Hmm.” Her fingertips left behind a smudge of dirt. “As beautiful as Heather Andrews, huh?”

“Well, you’ve got her beat in the mystery department.” He reached out and rubbed her chin clean with the pad of his thumb. “As for the kiss,” he said, focusing on the gentle bow of her lower lip, “I can’t say how that’d compare without firsthand experience.”

Though, if the pleasurable tingles dancing over his skin were any indication, he’d bet his last dime he’d feel Kristen’s kiss for a lot longer. And in a whole lot more places as a thirty-two-year-old man.

“But”—noting her blush, he lowered his hand—“to be fair to Heather, I’d also have to take into account the way you constantly assume the worst about me.” He looked away, striving for a wounded tone. “How you always turn your back on me. Drill right over me when I’m talking.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay. I won’t turn my back on you anymore, and I won’t—” Her chest lifted on a swift breath when he faced her, and her attention returned to his mouth. “I won’t drill over you while you’re talking.”

He

smiled and held out a hand. “Shake on it?”

She put her hand in his, allowed him to pull them both to their feet, then said, “Yes. I’ve done it before.”

“Done what?”

The tip of her tongue swept over her bottom lip before she answered. “Painted.” She motioned toward the sign. “Professionally, I mean.”

He studied her expression. “When did—”

Brakes squeaked as a small sedan slowed on the highway, then turned and stopped in the entrance of the driveway behind him. A voice called out from the open window, “Mitch, do you have a moment?”

Ruth Ann. He silenced a groan. It figured that the second he made an inch of progress with Kristen, he’d be deterred.

“Excuse me.” He smoothed his thumb over Kristen’s soft skin once more before reluctantly releasing her hand and walking over to the car. “I always have time for you, Mrs. Ruth Ann.”

“Thank you.” Ruth Ann got out, nudged her sunglasses farther up her nose, and glanced over his shoulder. “Good afternoon, Kristen.” After Kristen returned the greeting, Ruth Ann returned her attention to Mitch. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, ma’am.” Mitch gestured toward the sign still lying on the ground. “We’re just putting up a sign for Emmy.”

Her mouth pursed. “Strawberries?”

He nodded.

Sighing, Ruth Ann removed her sunglasses and snapped them closed. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. “I came to apologize to you for my behavior Saturday. It was silly, rude, and entirely inappropriate. I’m very sorry it happened. I stayed in church an extra hour yesterday, praying, but I didn’t feel any better about it. I understand if you think less of me.”

Mitch smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t give it another thought.” A wry laugh escaped him. “Emmy has a way of bringing out the best in all of us.”

Ruth Ann patted his hand, then looked down. “But it was my fault for overreacting. And in front of the children . . .” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I felt awful about it. Just awful.”

“Oh, I think your pound cake went a long way toward consoling Sadie, and Dylan got a good laugh for the day. Matter of fact, that was the first real smile I’ve seen on his face in months.” He released her and stepped back. “Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

Ruth Ann looked up, a small smile forming. “You have always had a big heart, Mitch. As big as Joe’s, I think.” She tapped a polished nail against the rim of her sunglasses. “Which is why, for your sake and Joe’s,” she stressed, “I’ve agreed with Lee to allow Emmy to rent the twenty acres.”

He drew his head back, an uncomfortable ache spreading through his chest. “I wasn’t lying when I said this farm is on its last leg, Mrs. Ruth Ann. Giving Emmy that lot of land won’t do anything but prolong her problems. That bypass will be paved no matter what she does.”

She nodded, a look of resignation crossing her features. “I told Lee that’s how you’d feel about it. But I also told him I didn’t want Emmy going around declaring I was the reason for her downfall.”

Ruth Ann glanced over his shoulder again, and he followed her line of sight, watching as Kristen, who’d moved out of earshot, began attaching two hooks to the pole.