Chapter 20
I hadn’t known a week with Lainey could be so miserable.
After seeing just how badly I’d hurt her, after hearing her repeated pleas for us to not talk about what I’d said, I’d realized it wouldn’t have mattered even if she had let me explain it all. She wouldn’t have heard the truth of it.
So, I’d kept everything about Kaia ever since, just as she’d asked.
Rush had been quick to inform me I’d been taking my anger and regret out on my team and hadn’t wasted time letting me know how much of an idiot he thought I was for not trying harder. But he hadn’t seen the pain in Lainey’s eyes. He hadn’t seen her tears. He hadn’t heard Ada’s pointed, Jackson proposed to our girl , when I’d walked into the office that same day—only twenty-four hours after I’d found the marks on her jaw.
Infuriating. Excruciating. Maddening.
I wasn’t sure which described this week best, but they all fit.
Over the next few days, I’d looked for a ring during our Kaia handoffs. But even though I hadn’t seen one yet, it was hard to decipher what that might mean when her expression was so somber during the few seconds I saw her.
And even though she was coming over this afternoon to watch my niece while I worked an event, Kaia and I had just pulled up to the Pearson farm.
And it . . . was not at all what I’d been expecting.
Huntley hadn’t been what I was expecting.
Even though it was close to Dallas, I’d never been out that way and had been surprised by just how small and charming the entire town was. Like a movie set come to life.
But the Pearson farm?
It was so much bigger and nicer than I’d anticipated, there was an entire parking area that was nearly full, and following the painted, wooden signs into the fields was like going into a carnival.
There were food trucks, kids running around with their faces painted, people gathered around pens filled with farm animals, and families taking pictures in front of large, farmhouse-style displays.
I adjusted Kaia in my arms and wondered how I was ever supposed to find Lainey in all this, while wondering why exactly I’d come.
I hated crowds.
Then again, Ada’s less-than-subtle, Big weekend at the Pearson farm, when she’d been leaving last night had been enough of a hint for me to know I needed to be here. I just hadn’t realized it would be like this.
Kaia’s little legs kicked against my stomach as if she might try to take off running next, but before I could readjust her again, my gaze caught on what Kaia must’ve already seen, and I knew I would withstand any crowd just to see this.
In her slim-fitting, denim overalls, white shirt, and boots, Lainey looked like she belonged here. But even from where we stood, I could tell she was uncomfortable from the way she was walking—head down, body stiff, arms practically wrapped around her waist as if trying to hold herself together.
I just wasn’t sure if it was due to being at the place that bothered her so much, remnants from words she’d overheard and still didn’t understand, or the conversation she was having with the blonde at her side.
But as if she was so in tune with my niece, Kaia’s excited screech had Lainey’s head snapping up from where she was walking dozens of feet away. As if all the other sounds and distractions of the chaos around us were nothing in comparison.
Surprise flitted across her face for the briefest second before she was smiling one of those smiles that gripped at my heart, making it pump harder and harder. But just as she started hurrying our way, she slowed and that smile faltered, making me want to fall to my knees and beg her to let me explain...to believe me.
“What are y’all doing here?” Lainey asked once the distance between us had been erased. She eagerly reached for Kaia, her eyes locking on her in a way that told me she was trying not to look at me. “I thought you needed me at two.”
“I do,” I told her as I watched her make excited faces at my niece and desperately tried not to let it affect me. “We’re, uh...we’re out of blueberries.”
“Already?” she asked with a soft laugh. “They’re good, aren’t they?”
They were, and we were out, but that wasn’t why we were there.
I just wasn’t sure what my true reason for coming was, and I didn’t think she’d believe me if I said I’d needed to see her in a place that wasn’t her job. Then again...I guessed this sort of was too.
“Let’s get you so, so many blueberries so you don’t run out anytime soon,” she said to Kaia without waiting for a response from me, her eyes big and bright as she made my niece laugh. And, man, if that didn’t touch another part of my ruined soul—the way she connected with Kaia as if she genuinely adored her.
“And then I’ll take you back to see the animals you loved oh-so much,” she was still saying to my niece as she turned, only to come to a stop when the same blonde I’d first seen her with slipped up beside Lainey, already speaking to me.
“Yes, I find you attractive. Yes, I’m single. And, yes, you can take me out tonight.”
“Wren,” Lainey snapped in a reprimanding tone.
“Not now,” the new girl— Wren —said, lifting a hand close to Lainey’s face to keep her from talking, “making memories to tell our grandkids later.”
Lainey’s eyes shifted to me for the briefest second before falling away, but I would’ve sworn there had been a deep sadness mixing with jealousy there. “This is Wren...my sister,” she began somewhat hesitantly as she cradled Kaia closer to her as if needing the comfort. “Wren, this is Asher Briggs, my boss.”
Wren’s eyes brightened with excitement and mischief as she inched closer. “ The Jerk ?”
Horror sliced across Lainey’s expression, but before I could ask if that was a more recent title or not, Wren continued.
“If I would’ve known you were on the other side of the stories all this time, I would’ve demanded to meet you sooner.” She flipped back a chunk of hair that didn’t have any of Lainey’s curl and asked, “So, what time can I expect you tonight?”
“Not interested.”
Wren studied me for a second, seemingly taken aback before shrugging it off. “Your answer will change. You can get my number from Lainey when it does.”
“It won’t,” I assured her when she turned to leave.
She patted Lainey’s shoulder patronizingly. “It’s admirable you wanna play righteous bossman in front of my sister, but you don’t have to.” With a wave of her hand, she called out, “See you soon,” and sauntered away.
“I’m not interested,” I repeated, this time to make sure Lainey understood.
She lifted a shoulder but kept her stare on Kaia. “I know.”
Right.
Because she was already fully aware anything I said was the truth, which was why there was a strain between us in the first place.
“So, blueberries?” she suggested, already turning and heading away from me. And for a second, I just watched her go.
Watched the way she easily drifted through the crowd, talking with people as she did. Watched the natural and effortless way she held Kaia, whereas I still felt like I was carrying around a bomb whenever I held her. Watched her glance over her shoulder, as if searching me out, before hurrying to look away when she found me studying her.
And as I started after them, I wondered if she had any idea the kind of hold she’d had on me for so much longer than she’d truly been in my life. Or maybe abusive boyfriends and twisted truths were too thick a cloud to see through.
“You didn’t have to come,” Lainey began once I was by her side, tone the same withdrawn hesitation it’d been all week. “I would’ve brought more blueberries with me if you’d told me you were out.”
Before I could settle on the exact reason why I’d loaded Kaia up and driven out here, Lainey offered a bright, “Good morning, Mrs. Taft,” to a woman who was standing a handful of feet in front of us, looking between us in outright discontentment.
The woman forced a smile that only made her judgmental stare that much more apparent as she focused on me for a few seconds before her gaze snapped to Lainey. “Lainey, dear, hello.” Mrs. Taft played with the collar of her shirt before crossing her arms, the feigned adoration of her tone doing nothing to hide her disapproval. “Wow, what a beautiful baby! I hadn’t heard that was the real reason behind you leaving us for all that time. Jackson must’ve been devastated.”
“Oh. N-no?—”
“Introductions please,” she said over Lainey as her stare drifted to me again. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you from around the area?”
“This isn’t what—no,” Lainey continued, stumbling over herself as she gestured between Kaia and me with her free hand before placing it on her blush-stained cheek. “Mrs. Taft, I really was away at school. This is my boss, Asher Briggs, and his niece, Kaia. I’m her nanny.”
If I’d thought the woman was judging us before, it was nothing compared to the look she gave us then. You would’ve thought Lainey had just told the older woman something truly scandalous from the way she shifted slightly back.
Just as I started reaching for Lainey to lead her away from a conversation I really wanted no part in, Mrs. Taft let out a laugh that was too loud to be genuine. “Bless your heart, sweet girl; you’ll need to come up with a better story than that. A nanny .” She said the title like an insult. “Your daddy would have a heart attack if you ever did something like that.” She bent a little to inspect Kaia, not seeming to notice when I took a step closer to the girls. “Really, a beautiful baby though.”
I watched the woman go, committing everything about her to memory so I could look her up later, before glancing back at the girl beside me. Standing still as stone, holding onto Kaia like a lifeline, her familiar hollow expression gripping at my chest because I didn’t know how to fix anything I’d done when just working for me was still hurting Lainey.
And then a single line of tears raced down her cheek, and I broke. Reaching for her without thinking as her name fell from me.
“Lainey . . .”
Her head snapped in my direction only to fall just as she met my eyes. Taking a step back, she hastily wiped at the tears and assured me, “I’ve got her,” even though I’d never once worried about Kaia in her arms. “Blueberries.” The word was a breathless laugh as she started forward with purpose.
Roughing a hand through my hair, I held in a sigh and followed after her, figuring it’d be better to wait until we were out of the crowd. But as I easily ate up the small distance she’d placed between us, she started talking about things that had nothing to do with anything I wanted to discuss with her.
“It isn’t normally like this,” she said, waving an arm to encompass the farm. “I mean, it’s busy—picking seasons always are. We get great business. But only opening weekends have the vendor booths and food trucks to kick things off.”
I swallowed the dozen other things I wanted to say and instead asked, “What other seasons?”
“Fall—pumpkins.” She flashed a brief, strained smile my way without ever actually looking at me. “That’s my favorite.”
“Favorite season of the year, or for picking?”
“Both,” she said without hesitation. “Blueberries are great, don’t get me wrong, but pumpkins are just...they bring people joy.”
Like you.
I ground my jaw to keep the words at bay but felt the corners of my mouth tilting up when she continued, her voice getting lighter and more animated as she went on.
“And we grow a really great variety, so we have an amazing selection of sizes, shapes, and colors. It’s also a lot more fun to decorate the farm for. We go all out, making it look so beautiful and festive.”
“More than that?” I asked doubtfully, gesturing behind us.
“Oh, absolutely,” she said sincerely, her stormy eyes flashing to mine and holding for a second before falling away. “I’m surprised Aunt Ada’s never said anything. I mean, I know she doesn’t work on the farm, but she still helps us get ready for opening week, and she’s always there for opening weekend. She’s around here somewhere.”
A humming sound rose in my throat. “I’ve been told I’m not exactly...approachable.”
“You?” she gently teased as we followed more signs directing us where to go now that we were entering the fields.
“Shocking, I know, especially when people call me a jerk...” I let the sentence trail off, nearly making it sound like a question, and watched as her cheeks burned with heat all over again. When her lips parted only to close, I prompted, “I’d like to hear the story behind that name, Miss Pearson.”
“I don’t think I’d enjoy telling it,” she whispered.
Pressing my hand to the small of her back, I brought her to a stop with me and waited as her eyes darted over a contentedly babbling Kaia before settling on me. “Honesty, yeah?” Hesitation initially bled from her, but at the stubborn lift of her chin, I asked, “New or old name?”
“Old.”
The corner of my mouth twitched with amusement. “How old?”
“My first day.”
I wasn’t sure I should feel as much relief as I did at that. I’d clearly upset her enough that even her sister knew me as The Jerk . But to know it wasn’t a title she’d given me after this week gave me...I don’t know. Hope?
With a subtle lift of my shoulders, I said, “You aren’t wrong.”
“But I—” Lainey paused for long seconds before releasing a harsh breath. Her eyes lifted to mine, sadness welling deep inside them before she abruptly twisted away and cut through rows of blueberries the wooden signs were specifically leading us away from.
I glanced at all the people walking to and from the fields, not really paying us any attention, before following. Even if I hadn’t had Kaia’s constant rambling as a guide, I had no doubt I would’ve been able to easily follow the trail of pain and uncertainty Lainey left in her wake.
“It’s funny,” she began when I reached where she was deep in a row, running her fingers over a bunch of berries and picking one off, “I wanted to explain myself but realized how hypocritical that was of me.”
“Then let me explain.”
“No,” she murmured, the dullness of her tone so at odds with how bright her expression was for Kaia. Eyes dancing with light and excitement, nose scrunching up adorably as my niece showed Lainey some of the blonde curls in her grasp, smile only barely tainted with her pain.
“Lainey—”
“You can’t,” she said over me, almost matter-of-factly, as she squished the blueberry between her fingers before feeding it to Kaia. “If you could explain, you would’ve at some point this week. No waiting for me to give you the okay , you would’ve just talked over me the way you always do. But you can’t because you don’t lie.” Her stare shot to me, and like a switch had flipped, the light in her eyes was replaced with that devastating sadness that tore at every part of me. “And that’s exactly what any explanation you’d try to give me would be.”
“I haven’t because you told me not to,” I argued. “You asked me to respect you by not telling you. I haven’t because I—” I drew in a quick breath and roughed my hand over my jaw. “Because I think it’d be better if you hated me. Safer.”
A line of suspicion formed between her eyebrows. “Safer how?”