CHAPTER SEVEN
“Y ou’re the talk of the town, son.”
I slide my gaze from the computer screen to watch Dad enter the office. His choice of greeting suggests that he’s aware of our latest investment statement. That isn’t possible unless he decided to check his email for the first time in months. In addition, the report just arrived an hour ago. News must’ve traveled faster than normal through the rumor mill. Unless he’s being facetious and this is his clever way of telling me something else broke at the farm.
Or I’m simply overthinking his comment, which is the most likely option.
“I’m on the edge of my seat.” The dull edge in my voice betrays me. “Better spill or I’ll fall on my ass and embarrass both of us.”
My father ignores any sense of urgency, strolling to an empty chair across from me. His jovial expression soothes the irritable thrash in my veins. That easy grin is a sight I wasn’t sure I’d see again. I scrub over my chin while he adjusts in the seat. The change in him over these past two weeks is nothing short of a miracle.
Maybe he read the email after all…
He steeples his fingers, further prolonging whatever this is. “Guess who I just got off the phone with?”
My exhale is steeped in restored frustration. “Are we seriously playing this game?”
He chuckles and I feel like an ass. “Would you rather be a party pooper?”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t an option in this house.” He scolds me with a wag of his index finger.
“Dad,” I chide in return. “Can you get to the point? I’m swamped.”
“Fine. Ruin my fun.” His huff belongs to a disgruntled teenager. “Excuse me for trying to build anticipation.”
“Consider me adequately eager.”
My father plants his palms on my desk and leans forward. “Lynn Ellen Paige shared the latest from the farmer’s market.”
The nuisance’s name gives me a migraine. “Did she straddle a cucumber?”
“Goodness gracious, Brody.” Dad’s laughter is the richest reward. “Don’t be crude.”
“She’s done worse.”
“Be that as it may, what I have to tell you is far more personal. Dare I say it’s positively private.”
The blink I send him is dipped in molasses. “You’re beginning to sound like the blab herself. ”
There’s a distinct twinkle in his eye when he asks, “Have you seen Paisley this afternoon?”
“No.”
Dad’s gaze cuts to the window behind me where a sprawling view of our property is on full display. “I find that hard to believe.”
Probably because I’m full of shit. My concentration has been divided ever since the motion sensor detected her arrival. I’ve developed an unfortunate response to the ping from the entry gate. Once I hear the beep, my focus is obliterated. That was at least two hours ago, and the battle against my self-control rages onward. I’m fighting the pull now while Dad scrutinizes me, just waiting for a crack to appear. It won’t take much at this rate.
Paisley’s presence sears my back and I strangle the urge to check if she’s still in the outdoor arena. Before my father walked in, she was racing barrels on one of her horses.
The sight of her wrapping those tight turns, sitting deep in the saddle, is a temptation I don’t need. I’m willing to admit that she’s a great rider. She’s an even better adversary in an argument. Our heated banter gives me a bigger thrill than I’ve felt in years. That’s one more reason the twinkly cowgirl needs to kick rocks.
Fuck, she’s driving me crazy. Nearly the entire compound separates us yet there’s a restless energy thrumming in my chest, as if she’s next to me. Or maybe she left for the day. I didn’t get a notification from the gate, but she could be hiding in the barn. My knee bounces in preparation to launch me upright to feed the addiction.
It’s only then I realize the silence has stretched longer than a morning piss .
I force my attention to Dad. “Are we done here?”
That gleam hasn’t left his gaze. “We’re just getting started. As I was saying, rumor has it that Paisley sang your praises at the market.”
A gruff scoff calls bullshit. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“Several reliable sources claim that she’s crazy about you.”
“First of all, there are no reliable sources in Cloverleaf Meadows.” My earlier intuition about them blabbering about me was mostly spot on, but that’s beside the point. “And the second portion of that statement is only factual if they meant in the delusional sense.”
Dad waves off my retort. “The town thinks you and Paisley are destined to be together, which got me thinking about your love life. Or lack thereof,” he adds on a grumble.
“Since when do we listen to gossip? It’s a bunch of bull.”
“Not in this case.”
“Agree to disagree.” I recline in my seat, the leather creaking beneath me. “Is that all? I have work to do.”
“Funny you mention that since it leads into my next point.”
The throb at my temples gains intensity and I rub at the ache. “When will this end?”
“Very quickly if you accept what I’m proposing.”
“Get on with it.” I roll my wrist to hurry him along.
“Before I dive into the specific terms, I want to acknowledge how much you’ve done for Benson Farmstead. The investments alone have brought us to another level. I’m very proud of what you’ve accomplished, Brody.”
“But? ”
“This is a family business,” Dad continues. “That’s our core principle. The roots that grew a small livestock operation into a legacy. We have to honor those values.”
“What do you call this?” I motion between us.
“The end of our line unless you produce the next generation.”
My brain scrambles. The concept of starting my own family to keep our empire thriving isn’t lost on me. I knew that’s a factor I’d have to consider, but in the distant future. Not while I’m still barely getting us back on track.
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
His sigh is thick while he combs through his thinning hair. “It’s not a secret that I’ve been absent since your mother passed. You’ve done well picking up the slack, proving you’re capable of handling the pressure. I owe the success of this company to you. But it also got me thinking about our situation. What happens once I’m gone? Life is a precious gift that can be stripped away in an instant. Our time on this earth isn’t a guarantee. I need to know our name won’t die with us.”
“Dad—”
“I want you to get married,” he interjects. “And if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to be a Pappy before I go.”
Laughter spews from me in a raucous wave. The release feels good, until I notice my father isn’t joining in the hysterics. That sobers me faster than an ice bath. “You can’t be serious.”
“I wouldn’t joke about the state of our fortune.”
The wind gets sucked out of me. “I’m not getting married. ”
“Well, not right this second. But I’m hoping we can negotiate a speedy ceremony.”
“My answer is no. Period.”
His exhale is resigned. “Be reasonable, son.”
“What you’re asking isn’t reasonable,” I bellow.
“It’s perfectly acceptable to have contractual demands. Call me sentimental, or senile. This is what I’m requiring of you to take ownership of Benson Farmstead.”
“Sounds a lot like coercion and bribery.”
Dad smirks, unbothered by my temper tantrum. “Call it whatever you’d like. Won’t change the fact that I have stipulations.”
“You can’t expect me to go along with this.”
He shrugs. “Nobody is forcing you.”
“I’ve earned this spot.” My finger jabs the desk.
“Sure, but it’s not officially yours.”
“My own father is blackmailing me.”
“It’s just business,” he states casually.
“This isn’t the way I run our company.”
“You’ll be free to make changes soon enough. Or not,” he taunts.
“Thanks for plunging the knife deeper, Dad.”
“Hold your horses, son. I want you to be the one who carries on our legacy. You’re damn good at the job. Nobody is discrediting that or trying to overthrow you, regardless of what you’d have me believe.” The stern edge in his tone is almost comical.
That bogus attempt to shake Dad from the funk is biting me in the ass. “It wasn’t far off. Jimmy is constantly on my ass about money. Where do you think the bonus structure came from? ”
“That’s true. He can’t shut up about the extra cash.”
“Which is strange since he has plenty already, but there’s more where that came from if you leave me in charge.”
“Do this for me and it’s a done deal.”
I narrow my eyes at his nonchalance. “What happens if I refuse?”
“If you’re not interested, Jimmy is ready to fulfill my request. Your cousins will be hitched by Christmas if I give him the go-ahead.”
My jaw drops, quite possibly hitting the floor. “You’d give him the company?”
Dad makes a noncommittal noise. “He’s willing to make sacrifices for the family. Not sure I can say the same about you.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve given everything to this company. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, but this crosses a line.”
He flicks nonexistent lint off his shirt. “Perhaps, but it’s in my power to set the conditions. The choice to comply is yours. Choose wisely.”
“There isn’t a good option,” I counter.
“Just think about it.” His gaze becomes unfocused. “Your mother made me a better man. I want that for you. A real partnership. A love that burns brighter each day.”
“A contractual obligation,” I add.
“Don’t think of this as a punishment. You’ll thank me eventually.”
“Doubt it.” I scrub over my face, ashamed that I’m actually considering the option. “Do you already have a bride picked out for me? ”
“That’s part of your decision.” It doesn’t escape my notice when his gaze slides to the window again.
“There’s no chance Paisley will go along with this.” But the thought of shackling myself to any other woman shrivels my balls into raisins.
Dad raises his palms. “I didn’t mention her.”
“Didn’t have to,” I mutter.
“If you want my opinion, she suits you well. I approve.” The audacity of this man makes him a true icon.
“You old rascal. Reviving your nickname?”
“Always loved that comic strip. The show wasn’t bad either.” He reclines in his chair, a dreamy glint in his eye.
“Dennis the Menace lives and breathes,” I mutter.
He’s quiet for a beat. “Gives me a reason to get up in the morning.”
An ache spreads through my chest. “Fuck, that’s a shot to the soul. “
“The truth hurts, kid. I was in rough shape until you reminded me that there’s plenty left to live for.” A wry smile touches his lips. “I’d love nothing more than to see you settled with a family of your own.”
“Mhmm, the message has come across loud and clear.”
The wiggle of Dad’s brows is unsettling. “Does that mean I can book the chapel?”