He let out a laugh. “No.”
She smiled and it lit up her whole face. “Come back to the guesthouse with me. Those rocking chairs on the front porch are calling my name. And I owe you a cold drink.”
He knew he should turn around and head back to his chores. Maybe change into dry clothes. His jeans and shirt were damp, though no longer dripping thanks to the hot afternoon sun. Still, clean clothes were probably a good idea. But after herding a bull, he was too tired to fight the attraction.
“All right,” he said.
She led the way around the barn and up the three wooden steps he’d rebuilt when he’d first arrived back home. Waving toward the pair of green rocking chairs, she said, “Wait here and I’ll grab our drinks. Beer, water or orange juice?”
“I’ll take a beer.”
Sadie disappeared through the front door and he settled into a rocker. Eventually, he’d get around to asking her what kind of writer she was. He hoped like hell her answer wouldn’t be “reporter.”
The door swung open and Sadie appeared carrying two bottles, a pair of forks and a pie dish. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And the only thing I have is half a leftover apple pie from The Quilted Quail.”
“I like pie. Here, let me get that.” Logan took the dish from her hands.
“Thanks.” Sadie claimed the empty rocker, and handed him a beer and a fork. “Dig in.”
They passed the dish back and forth in silence, sipping their drinks, and watching the sun sink lower behind the green mountains and casting long shadows over the cow pastures. It wouldn’t be dark for several hours, but they were well into late afternoon. Aside from the occasional moo from the field, everything was quiet.
“I’m sorry again about letting Titan out,” she said. “As you can probably tell, I don’t have much experience with farm animals.”
“Now you know to steer clear. Messing with a bull.” He shook his head. “It’s risky.”
She laughed. And hearing that sound—it was worth spending an hour chasing a horny beast.
“You don’t get anywhere without taking risks and looking for new adventures,” she said.
Logan nodded slowly, digesting this bit of wisdom. “This is where you’re looking to go? A rural Vermont cow farm?”
“If you’d asked me that a couple of days ago, I would have said absolutely not, I’m just here for my sister. But right now, I’m thinking I like it here. Risks and all.” She turned to him. “What about you? Is this where you want to be?”
“I’m enjoying the company right now.” He lifted his beer bottle to his lips, not meeting her intense gaze. The way she looked at him—it felt as if she could see straight through him.
“But?”
“Most days I’d rather be with my team than playing farmer,” he admitted.
“Then why are you here?”
He shook his head. “Let’s just say I screwed up. Big-time. That’s why I’m home. I’ve been ordered to remain on R & R.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather be at war?”
“It’s what I do,” he said. “Being in Mount Pleasant is driving me crazy.”
“Ah, the raffle.”
“That’s part of it.” There were also the memories, some good and some that reminded him of all the mistakes he’d made in his life.
“Are you going to do it?”
He watched as she licked her fork clean, her lips running over the utensil until she’d consumed every last drop. He’d never been attracted to the way a woman ate pie before. But everything about this woman’s mouth turned him on. “Probably. Aunt Lou will insist.”
“And you always listen to your aunt?”
He shrugged. “Most of the time.”