Summer Love in the Country (Summer Instalove)

people to hurt themselves, and there was absolutely no way I could allow Joanna to be

harmed in any way whatsoever. I felt strangely protective of her, and didn’t even know why.

The urge to wrap my arms around her was the deepest, strongest feeling I’d ever had.

CHAPTER THREE

* Joanna *

Even though I turned off the light at ten pm, crawling out of bed at five-thirty in the morning was uncomfortable. I didn’t think I’d ever set an alarm that early in my life.

As I brushed my teeth and tied my hair into a braid, I realized that everything felt prickly and unnatural. I’d never been an early riser, but part of this whole experience was the thrill of

new things, even if I was barely awake enough to make sense of them. Pulling on my oldest

jeans, and a long-sleeved t-shirt, I remembered to coat my face in sunscreen, and grab my

hat.

At five forty-five on the dot, I heard a tiny tap at the door. As I opened it, I was struck with both a chilly breeze and Dean’s warm smile.

“Good morning, city girl,” he grinned. I wasn’t sure whether it was the cold or his gorgeous

face that made my nipples tighten straight through my shirt and thin sports bra. I didn’t think a regular bra would be comfortable for working in a field, but hadn’t anticipated this

moment.

His eyes barely flickered to my embarrassing issue. “It’s chilly in the mornings,” he said

matter-of-factly. “You might want a sweater.”

I grabbed it from the handy hook on the wall, along with my keys. Locking the door behind

me, I threw on my lanyard and hoodie, turning to see a bright red and black four-wheeler.

“Hop on,” Dean chuckled.

He sat in front, and I awkwardly got onto the long leather seat behind him. I’d been on a

snowmobile before, and it was similar in speed and noise.

As we started to move, I bounced awkwardly until Dean reached back with one hand,

grabbing mine and wrapping it around his waist. “No seat belts, so hang on,” he said.

My chest pressed against his back as my thighs tightened on the outside of his hips. I

hoped that he didn’t think I was being forward, I was just terrified to fall off. Then I caught a whiff of his woodsy, masculine scent through his t-shirt and held him even tighter. He drove

quickly along small paths in the fields, but the ground was pretty rough. Every bump made

me dig my hands into his chiselled stomach, causing my pulse to race.

I saw a huge combine harvester working to the left, but ahead of us and to the right were

gigantic structures made of what seemed to be clear plastic.

“We’re working in a greenhouse today,” he said over the rough engine. The fresh air was