Summer Love in the Country (Summer Instalove)

“The hot shower helped,” I said, trying to downplay the deep muscle tension that was

screaming through my body. “I’m just a bit achy.”

“The water pressure here is great, so make sure you use that right on the back of your

shoulders,” he suggested. “And keep stretching gently all day long.”

“I will, thanks.” For some reason I couldn’t process Dean thinking about me in the shower

without blushing.

Lindsay and Britney finally arrived, sitting at the far end while ignoring everyone else. They had their phones out at the table, which seemed completely out of place here. I’d overheard

that they were working on a screenplay, but they didn’t seem very focused.

I enjoyed Chuck’s stories as he was telling Dean about a previous job. Apparently one of the most important things a farm can do to keep good labor around is to have decent food.

Dusty shook his head. “Nothing like working a twelve-hour day and being handed a bowl of

cheap canned soup,” he said, rolling his eyes. Both men had that deep, weathered look that

clearly said they’d been working in the fields for many years. I honestly had no idea if they

were in their late thirties or early fifties.

“I agree that the food is important,” Dean said, “But also the coffee. Early mornings can be

nasty if we don’t have a great brew to look forward to.”

“Absolutely,” Chuck agreed. “Although I’ve heard some people say that the coffee is too

strong here.” He shot me a sideways glance.

“I loved the coffee,” I said quickly. “I honestly don’t think I would have made it through the morning without it.”

Dean jerked his thumb toward me, giving the other two men a wink. “You should have seen

how this little spitfire tore into those carrots,” he said proudly. “Seven baskets in an hour.”

“The little blue baskets?” Chuck asked.

“No,” Dean chuckled. “The big green ones.”

“Well done, Joanna,” Dusty nodded. “We like it when people show a little hustle.” From the

way his eyes flicked to the girls at the end of the table, I had a distinct impression that they were not exactly hard workers.

As we ate and chatted, I couldn’t help feeling a wave of satisfaction by the way Dean

seemed proud of me. I also noticed that he continued to casually touch me, then pull his

hand away quickly.

I was starting to wonder – would a summer fling really be so terrible? Sneaking a look at

Dean’s gorgeous square jaw, and those lively eyes, the little flutters through my system

were becoming a constant hum.