Chapter 18 Eve #2
“She took the money and married him anyway.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my throat and the grin that takes over my face. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from her.”
Nora nods. “She was a good human. Although I’m sad we lost touch, I’m glad I got the opportunity to chat with you about her. Sometimes I worry memories like that will get lost in this big head of mine and be gone forever.”
“Thanks for telling me about her,” I say.
She smiles. “Anytime, sweetie.”
She pats my arm and then takes a few steps toward a nearby bench, settling herself easily before Ryder has a chance to take her arm.
“You okay, Gam?”
She waves him off. “Fine, honey. Judging by the bucket of kids’ scissors and a reminder to please be careful with them, I’m guessing we’ve gotten to the pick-your-own-bouquet portion of the tour. So I’ll wait here while you two head in.”
Ryder rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a bouquet.”
“Awfully rude thing to say to the owner of the sunflower farm,” she parries.
“Really, Gam. Come on, why don’t we head to the gift shop?”
She smiles, resting her purse on the bench next to her and extracting a paperback that she quickly flips open. “I’ll be here.”
He looks at me, as if silently asking if we can just appease her.
I gesture to the narrow walkway through the sunflowers that takes you on a small loop around the field and brings you right back to the start. “It’s about a twenty-minute walk. You sure you’ll be alright, Nora?”
She nods, waving me off as she turns her attention to her book. “Bye, kids. I won’t be keeping time.”
Ryder shrugs, gesturing for me to lead the way. I give him a pair of scissors as we pass the bucket.
And as soon as we’re within the confines of the sunflowers, I whip out my phone and text Vic to keep an eye on the woman reading by the sunflowers. He texts back a thumbs up a few seconds later.
“Vic is going to keep an eye on her,” I say, slipping my phone into my pocket.
He nods, knocking my elbow with his. “And who’s going to keep an eye on you?”
I shoot him a look, taking the lead as we walk through a particularly narrow part of the walkway. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
He snorts. “No. That’s me being perfectly aware of those shears in the back pocket of your overalls that I’m sure are a hell of a lot sharper than the kid scissors you just gave me.”
“Oh, I see. Just looking out for yourself. Color me surprised.”
He whistles. “Big talk from a girl who deals with supposed threats by running away.”
“Awful lot of attitude from a guy who needs his grandmother to wingman him.”
He scoffs. “Gam is not my wingman. And might I remind you, you kissed me.”
I stop in my tracks, turning to him. “I did not.”
He points to his chin. “Right here. You kissed me, right here.”
“That was not a kiss!”
He throws his hands out in front of him. “I’m sorry, what was it then?”
And now I’m a little… stumped. Because okay, maybe it was arguably a kiss, but I really do not feel like agreeing with him right now.
I’m torn between repeating it and chastising him for not letting me know he was coming.
And between all of those emotions is this queasy feeling in my gut like I’m in over my head. Obsessed with exactly the type of man who pulled my own mother away from this farm. Away from me.
“It was, like, a lip brush. A kiss involves puckering and there was no puckering there.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really, Eve? You’re going to classify it as not a kiss because your lips didn’t pucker? I don’t think your lips were puckering when my tongue was in your mouth, so how do you classify that? A good old-fashioned tonsil check from some guy who isn’t a doctor?”
I hold my hands up. “That’s different.”
He shakes his head. “Fine, you didn’t kiss me. But by your logic, I didn’t kiss you either.”
“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms as I step over an old tree stump.
“Fine.”
We stomp along in silence for a few moments, brushing the occasional rogue sunflower out of our way.
“So the women in your family have a type, huh?”
I give him a glare from the corner of my eye and see only a heart-stopping grin on his stupidly beautiful face. “Call it genetic poor decision-making.”
“Were your grandparents unhappy?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. They had the kind of relationship I’ve always wanted. Aside from the whole dying too young bit.”
He nods. “Your parents?”
I shrug. “I don’t know my dad. My parents were too young when they had me and my mom took off with some guy who looks just like you, abandoning the family business and her daughter. If that isn’t a cautionary tale against choosing the wrong man, I don’t know what is.”
He hums. “Better to never give one a chance and completely rob yourself of the possibility of a love story like your grandparents, right?”
I turn to him, stopping in the middle of the walkway and nearly causing him to bowl me over.
“What is wrong with you? Are you really talking about love stories right now? Because that’s diabolical, trying to play on my emotions in that way.
I know you’re after an easement. And the fact that you’re trying to use my grandparents’ love story to get that is manipulative and damaging.
I know you’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want, but that’s off limits. ”
He holds his hands up. “Eve, I wasn’t thinking about the easement when I said that, but I can see how you would interpret it that way. I just—”
“What? You just want me to give you a chance so that I can get hurt twice as bad later on? Because that’s what it sounds like.”
“NO!” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t playing that card.
But you realize you're completely closed off, right?
You're seemingly incapable of believing anyone has good intentions. But I do, and you've twisted a flippant comment into something diabolical. So no, I wasn’t trying to change your mind about me or an easement. I was just hoping you might see something good in me for once.”
I keep quiet as I think over his words.
It wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of pessimism. Of torpedoing potential for the sake of knowing what to expect–even if I'm the only one I'm really hurting in the end.
I bite my lip. “You have good intentions?”
He takes a step toward me, and for a second, I think he’s going to take my hand.
Maybe hug me. Kiss me again? “Ever since I took over my dad’s company, I’ve tried to be the good guy.
No, I don’t get to live in some fairytale world where everyone is happy with me all the time, but I promise you, Eve, I’m trying to be a net positive on the world.
On your farm. You don’t have to like me, but I really hope you’ll believe me. ”
I swallow, resisting the urge to move just a few inches closer and crash into his chest.
“I want to believe you, and I think there’s a little part of me that does, but I don’t get to believe in the wrong people twice.
This whole place comes down to me. Only me.
Because my grandparents died young. Because my mom abandoned me for someone who looks just like you.
So while I want to believe you, it’s not a mistake I can afford to make if it proves to be one. ”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Give me a chance to prove it won’t be a mistake.”
I eye him. “I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard unless it’s for an easement. If you’d given me as much shit as I’ve given you, I’d have already moved on to the next thing unless I needed something I couldn’t get anywhere else.”
He bites his lip, his eyes moving briefly to the sunflowers around us before coming back to mine.
“Look, Eve, I didn’t want to tell you this because it’s not an option I’m considering, so please take it the way I’m intending.
” He pauses as if waiting for my confirmation, and when I shrug, unwilling to agree with him until I know what he’s going to say, he continues, “I can probably get the town council to force an easement if I really need to. It’s dicey, considering I could completely tear up the land just for a stupid driveway, but I think if I presented them with the right documentation, they would force an easement without your signature. ”
Just the thought has every alarm bell in my body blaring. I struggle to keep myself from screaming or running away—my body is itching to do either. Or both.
“But I don’t want to do that. This isn’t my typical project and I’m not working with my typical people. I know how special the sunflower farm is to you.”
“You regularly upset entire communities. Not to mention the people who live in your buildings and deserve better.”
He lets out a long breath. “Well I guess now is as good a time as any to let you know that after all of your complaints, my business manager did an analysis of our properties and only two came back with serious issues—a property manager who was cooking the books in one and not reporting necessary fixes, and a fucked plumbing system in the other. The property manager has been replaced and all properties with a similar plumbing system are slated for a complete rehaul early next year. So sure, I may have pissed some people off. But I made it right as quickly as I could.”
I nod. “So you’re fine with pissing off your hometown and coming back later to fix it when it’s convenient for you, is what you’re saying?”
He thinks about it for a second. “Uh, actually yes, to that question.”
I throw my hands out in front of me. “What?”
“If it was just the town I was worried about, I’d be fine continuing with the plan—or an even more invasive one, honestly, if that’s our only option.
I know that this development will end up nice in the end.
Even though you think my buildings are ugly, I think they all have a certain charm. And these ones will too. Even more so.”
I shake my head. “What are you even trying to say? That you don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks after all?”
He shrugs. “No. I’m just trying to say that I give a shit about what you think.”
I blink, struggling to absorb his meaning.
“I don’t need your approval,” he says with a mild shrug. “But I want it.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why?”
He lets out a long breath. “Because I like you, Evie. I think you’re charming and frustrating and kind of cute when you’re mad. You’re far smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I really respect how hard you work to keep up something you love.”
I rear back, certain that I need to say something, but it seems every word I’ve ever known has left my brain.
He gives me a small smile. “That is why I want your approval. I know I came here with a different agenda, but I guess things change.”
On one hand, I want to crash into his chest even more than I did before. On the other hand, I know I need to give my brain processing time before totally flip-flopping on every speck of logic that, until now, has been telling me to play it safe.
“I need a little time,” I tell him, watching his expression carefully, searching for a moment of disappointment. Or maybe one of relief, if this is all an act to get that easement signed.
But he only nods. “I know. It’s busy season. Take all the time you need,” he says. “I’ll be here.”