Lime Tree Hill (A Reluctant Kiss #1)

11. Humble Pie

11

HUMBLE PIE

Tayla pulled her car into a parking space outside Harper Realty ten minutes late for her appointment. As she took a seat opposite Andrew Harper’s desk, her heart was still racing.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as he sat in his chair.

“Sorry I’m late. I’m doing a locum stint at the hospital, and I couldn’t get away.”

Andrew’s smile was warm and wide. “It’s fine. What do you do there?”

“I’m a physiotherapist. I specialize in sports injuries. Anyway, Ruby said you might have a backup contract for Cherry Grove.”

“I do. It was floating around a while back through another agent, but your father wasn’t interested.”

That was news to Tayla. But then, her father wasn’t one to discuss business with his daughters. “Why’s that?”

“To be honest, it’s more of an opportunistic offer than a realistic one. But as we’re not privy to the deal Mitch made with your parents, we don’t know what we’re up against. Still, considering the state of the orchard, its location, and Barry’s ill health, it’s worth a look. With Cherry Grove landlocked by Lime Tree Hill, it tends to put most prospective buyers off, and that’s before they’ve even seen the place or the financials.”

Andrew was right. The orchard was in a state, especially compared to the slick operation that was Lime Tree Hill. But every time someone mentioned it, Tayla couldn’t help but take it as a direct criticism of her parents. That hurt more than she let on.

He slid the sale and purchase agreement across the desk toward her. “Take a look.”

Tayla scanned down the page, stopping at the scribbled figure with its attached zeros. It was a lot lower than Mitch’s offer; however, Mitch’s offer had a tight string attached. A marriage. Or at least, it did.

She looked up at Andrew, keeping her expression neutral. “Is there any room for upward movement?”

“We won’t know unless we try.”

“Who are the Stone and Pip Group?”

“A local company run by Chris Stone. They own orchards all over the province, growing apples and stone fruit for the high-end export market. Ruby mentioned a possible problem with Mitch settling. I thought we’d start the ball rolling just in case. What date is settlement due?”

“Three weeks, Thursday.”

“Okay. How about you take a few days to mull it over? In the meantime, Chris is keen to meet up tomorrow, suggested we discuss it over dinner if you’re free. But don’t hold your breath for a higher offer. The guy’s pretty cut and dried when it comes to business.”

The following morning, Tayla awoke to a drizzly dawn. She snuggled down in her bed, rolled onto her back, and surveyed her surroundings. She’d experienced so much in this room. Written poetry, shared secrets with her diary, hidden under the covers with erotic novels—even shared her first awkward kiss with a boy from school who came to help her with a science project.

Mitch popped unbidden into her thoughts. He might be hot as the Sahara and able to charm a snake out of a basket, but their cozy chat in the rain aside, the man was ruthless when it came to serving his self-interest. And to think she’d once considered him boyfriend material; dreamed of his kiss, his touch. She shuddered at the stupidity of her hopelessly romantic teenage self.

Tayla drifted back to sleep and woke again around eight, surprised to see the sun streaming through the windows. She’d go for a run later, but first, she needed to call Ruby about the Chris Stone update.

Mitch wandered along the banks of the river with Edward in cold pursuit. The pug never hurried for anyone, but the pace gave Mitch time to ponder. Thinking back to the game of touch, he cracked a grin at the thought of Tayla lying on the ground with him on top of her.

At first, seeing her in those skimpy shorts, sporty tank, and high ponytail, Mitch had made an assumption he had no business making. But his opinion had soon changed. Light on her feet and a fast runner, she’d definitely held her own on the field.

He opened the gate and strolled over to the Whitman homestead, a small brown paper bag in hand. The sight of her feeding chickens and collecting eggs in the henhouse slowed his stride. In contrast, Edward ran on ahead to greet her.

“Edward. Here boy.” She crouched to pet him. “Hey, beautiful boy. What are you doing here, fella?”

“Afternoon, Tayla.”

She stood to full height at the sound of his voice. “Mitch. What can I do for you?”

Her frostiness caught him off guard until he remembered she’d been pretty buzzed the night before. “I guess a pat and a hug like you gave Edward is out of the question, so I’ll settle for a coffee.” He offered her the bag, then reached down and picked up the basket of eggs.

She looked inside at the berry pie dusted with powdered sugar. “What’s this for?”

“It’s humble pie.” He flashed his best boyish smile, the one he kept for special occasions. “An apology, for landing on top of you when I tripped.”

She brushed past him and walked toward the house. Mitch followed. The days were cooler now, and he noticed goosebumps on her arms. He doubted he was the cause, but it didn’t hurt to dream.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“It’s true,” he said. “My foot caught on a clod of dirt. My knee’s still stiff.”

“Come in.” She held the door open. “So you’ve been baking?”

The kitchen seemed bigger without Barry and Jean, and it smelled faintly of lavender. He missed their casual chats over the fence. “Not me, Maisie’s Bakery. But they made it especially for you.”

“Is that right?” She opened the fridge to put the pie away and grabbed a bottle of milk. “Thanks. I love berry pie.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

“Have a seat. Have you seen anyone about your knee?”

“Not yet.” Sitting at the island, he struggled to take his eyes off her. With her delicate features and dignified persona, she fascinated him more than anyone had in a long time.

“Would you like me to take a look?”

He stared at her for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”

“Why not, don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that.” He fought to suppress a smile. “It’s just…well, I’m sure you understand. ”

A blush crept across her cheeks. She’d obviously caught his drift.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Tayla turned her back and reached into the cabinet for two cups. The next time she glanced his way, the blush was gone. “Surely you didn’t come over here just to bring me pie?”

“I hear you’ve had another offer.”

“Not another offer. An offer. Your offer is no longer valid, remember. Anyway, how do you know? I only met the realtor yesterday.”

He shrugged. “Word gets around. Especially when it spews from Chris Stone’s toxic mouth. He thinks it’s in the bag.”

“Really?” She motioned to the coffee machine, obviously surprised he knew it was Chris Stone who’d made the offer. “What would you like?”

“Espresso, thanks.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of Mr. Stone.” Tayla lifted the dome from a cake stand on the counter and placed two chocolate chip muffins on a plate. She slid it across the island toward Mitch.

“You could say that. Sure, he runs a slick operation, but that doesn’t mean I want him in my back yard. I don’t like the way he does business, and the feeling’s mutual.”

Tayla popped a coffee pod into the machine, then put a cup on the drip tray. “You may not have a choice.”

Mitch looked at her and frowned. “No, but you do.”

“So, what do you suggest? That we forgo the sale because you don’t like the guy?”

“Your father won’t be happy. Chris has made him offers before. Insulting ones. Barry can’t stand him.”

“This whole sorry business keeps getting worse.”

He leaned forward, searching for the right words as he peeled the paper case from the muffin and took a bite. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. Maybe we could pull off the marriage thing…if you promise to play nice. ”

“If I promise to play nice? Where’s the note?”

He cocked a brow. “Note?”

“The note where you ask me to go steady.”

Mitch caught her slight smile. “Very funny. Look, the SPG spray the shit out of their fruit. That alone could affect our operation, not to mention spray drift entering the river. We can’t let that happen.”

“Don’t you ever tire of doing the right thing?”

He frowned. If she only knew how many times he’d screwed up in his life, his assessment of her after Norman died being one of them. “I don’t always do the right thing. Offering to buy Cherry Grove on a drunken handshake is a case in point. But when it comes to organics, I want to do my bit.”

Tayla pushed his coffee across the counter then started making her own. “So, you’re out to save the planet?”

“The planet will save itself. Whether humans survive on the planet is another question. If we don’t do something about the pesticides, plastics, and manmade fibers that flood our food chain and waterways, we’re in trouble. And forgive me for sounding preachy, but we’re literally shitting in our own nest.”

“Is that why you always wear cotton and wool?”

His hand around the coffee cup, Mitch leaned back and smiled. He enjoyed making conversation with interesting people, Tayla included. She held his gaze, listening intently. And when she spoke, she wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion, those dainty hands animated as she made her point. “For someone who pretends not to notice, you’re very observant.”

She shrugged. Lifted her coffee cup and took a sip. “What’s the real reason you and Chris Stone don’t get on?”

Mitch frowned at her candid question. He rubbed his index finger across his stubbled jaw, suppressing a smile as he recalled the summer he’d spent with the now Ella Stone. “What, apart from him wanting to get his greedy hands on my operation? Let’s just say we once had a personal conflict of interest. ”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he wasn’t about to tell Tayla that Chris’s wife had been his first.

“So, what do you think?” Mitch asked. “Should we take the bull by the horns and go for it?”

Tayla picked up the other muffin, breaking a piece off the top with her delicate fingers. “Can I trust you to be discreet?”

“In what way?”

“My parents think the world of you, but they’re also very conservative. It would break their hearts if they thought you were cheating on me.” She hesitated. Popped the piece of muffin into her mouth and chewed. “Unfortunately, you have a reputation around town as a bit of a man-whore.”

Mitch chuckled. “That’s just a filthy rumor. Someone’s trying to ruin my stellar reputation.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’ve ruined it all by yourself.”

“Lies, all lies. And, it works both ways, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t call me sweetheart. You make me feel like a secretary from Mad Men .”

“Well, as our relationship is purely business, the insincere use of the term of endearment suits you.” He realized by the look on her face that she didn’t appreciate his sense of humor. “I thought you were keen.”

“That was before you nearly squashed me by slipping a tackle into a game of touch.”

“I’ve already apologized for that. I promise to be good from now on if you promise to tone down the snob fest.”

She picked up his cup along with her own and rinsed them in the sink. Was this where she’d lose her cool, tell him exactly where he could stick his bull horns?

“Come on, Tayla. Let’s move on. We can’t let your parents down this late in the game.”

She turned to face him. “It’s not me that’s letting them down.”

“I get that, believe me. I’m not the heartless guy you think I am. ”

“No? Don’t pretend this is about us doing the right thing. This is you, out to settle some petty vendetta against Chris Stone. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a dinner date.”

He stood, wondering who she was meeting. “We’re running out of time, so don’t hold my balls in a vise for too long.”

“Seriously?” She sighed, shaking her head. “You think I’m deliberately trying to make you uncomfortable?”

“Maybe.” Mitch walked to the door, then turned back. “Thanks for the coffee.” He lifted the glass dome from the cake stand and grabbed another muffin. “These muffins are so good.”