Chapter 1
LEE
Twenty years later
Plant in the spring, reap in the summer.
If I know one thing, it’s that simple truth.
My alarm goes off before the sun has risen.
The moon’s still out, high in the sky, the gentle silver light shining through the gaps in my blackout curtains.
I tug on a pair of old faded blue jeans and a T-shirt that’s seen much better days.
The garden doesn’t need fancy outfits; the gentle ground just needs me.
I fix a cup of coffee under the glow of the microwave light, swaying back and forth to the sound of an old Kenny Chesney song playing in my head.
I head out onto my back porch to take in the day.
The early spring air is warm, but less humid than the summer.
Spring in Florida is the perfect amount of crisp before the oppressive humidity makes it feel like you’re in a swimming pool when you step outside.
The day should be enjoyed no matter what.
After a final sip of the too-hot coffee, I place the cup on the wooden railing of my back porch and slowly make my way out to the garden shed. I grab some tools and get ready to work the plot next to my current garden.
The other day I brought home some tomato bushes, hoping to plant them and get a good crop during the summer.
The melons in the other plot are slowly growing—I planted them last year and hope to have some good watermelons and cantaloupes this summer.
I didn’t plant honeydews because, well, I don’t like them. They taste like spicy water to me.
I set down the tools in the area that I cordoned off yesterday and make my way over to the small shelter I built for the goats. My two pygmy goats, Aragorn and Falcor, happily bleat at the sight of me. At least someone loves me unconditionally.
“Morning, babies,” I coo at them as I open their enclosure.
My land is fenced for a few acres, but I’ve cordoned off a little area for them, so they can roam as far as they want and not get out.
Especially since the fence is netted and they’re not as great at jumping as they think in their head.
Most of the time they prefer to stay in their little house I created for them.
Aragorn butts my hand with his head, and I give him a good rub. He’s black and white with eyes that shine in the dark. Falcor is grumpier and mostly brown all over. I love them both, but Aragorn is kind of my favorite, even though you’re not really supposed to have favorites.
I clean out their enclosure, give them fresh water and feed, then return to the garden expansion.
The sun slowly starts to rise, dancing across the tops of the trees that line my property.
A mist falls over the land, adding a cooling effect.
I hope to be done before the sun has fully risen because once the sun is out, it will be time to head to the farm and do the real work for the day.
I’m able to finish the new plot just before it’s time to get ready to make it to the farm on time.
I carefully herd Aragorn and Falcor into their little paddock but don’t leave them before giving them some well-deserved love.
Maybe this weekend I’ll see if Joey wants to come over with Savannah so that she can play with them.
They love her so much, but that’s not a surprise. Everyone loves Savi.
That cold familiar ache stabs me in the chest at the thought of Joey and his little girl, so I push it away like always as I get ready for the day ahead.
After a quick shower, I tug on a trusty pair of work jeans and a Clay Road Farms shirt.
I’ve never looked good in the aqua and orange, but Beau won’t be changing the colors even though he’s in charge now, so I suffer in silence.
My hair is a mess as usual, but I shove a hat onto my head and call it a day.
I don’t have to bother with shaving, as I’ve got a decent beard going now.
Will Beau go fishing with me this weekend?
Worth a shot to ask. Trevor came with us a few weekends ago and we learned pretty quickly that fishing is not his sport.
Although, he seemed pretty happy to sit in the boat and watch.
I like Trevor. He’s quiet and kind, makes Beau happy.
The only thing I hate about him is that he’s a perfect reminder that I’m going to die alone because love isn’t meant for people like me.
On that note…
I climb into my old work truck and head toward the farm.
Beau’s been talking about upgrading the trucks lately, since the farm is doing so well, but I’m pretty partial to this one.
It was Beau’s dad’s truck for a long time, and it’s sentimental.
Plus, with elbow grease, she stays running, and that’s better than a new truck any day.
The farm is about a twenty-minute drive for me since I’m on the other side of the county.
I live up at the top of the river, tucked away from everyone.
This land has been in my family for generations, the dirt just as familiar beneath my feet as the sound of the heat bugs in the summer.
Grandma sure knew what she was doing by leaving me her property, probably because she knew her son sucked and I’d need to run away.
Thankfully, I live far enough from everyone to not have drop-in visits just because I’m on the way somewhere, but close enough that if someone needs me, I’m available.
Plus, I’m a decent drive away from my father’s trailer in the retirement park.
He lost our house just after I graduated from high school, not that it was ever more than a house to me.
Felt more like a jail by the end of my time served when I moved into Beau’s house at eighteen while I waited to inherent Grandma’s property.
All the tension inside me melts away at the sight of Clay Road Farms looming ahead.
The sight of the fields, the office, and the wedding barn is as familiar to me as breathing.
After all the years I spent running around Beau’s family farm as a kid, barefoot and free, it’s somewhere I can never leave.
The farm gave me roots—a place to call home. Beau and his family did too.
I swallow hard at the sight of Joey’s SUV in the office parking lot. Thinking about Joey never does me any good. I try to think about him as little as possible, but it’s difficult when he’s one of my best friends. Even more difficult is the fact I’ve been in love with him for almost twenty years.
All I’ve ever done is wait. I used to think maybe there was something to be earned in the waiting, but I know now that I was wrong.
Waiting is torture when I know there’s no relief at the end.
I’ve waited thirty-five years for my father to love me, and that’ll never happen now, since most days he can barely seem to remember my name.
I’ve waited twenty years for Joey Rossi’s heart to skip a beat when he thinks my name before he falls asleep.
But Joey’s a useless dream that I need to give up.
Sometimes I think I’m just born to wait, born to always suffer.
Born to only know waiting and wanting and wishing for things I’ll never have.
Love at first sight doesn’t exist. But love at first smile does.
When I was sixteen years old, Joey Rossi smiled at me from across the classroom and my heart hasn’t known peace since.
He has these little dimples that form at the corner of his mouth when he smiles, no matter the size of his grin.
Small smile? Dimples. Huge grin? Even larger dimples.
The universe put those damn dimples there as a curse on me, I’m sure of it.
Twenty years later, those dimples can still bring me to my knees.
Now, I just hide it better, but if someone ever took my heart rate while in proximity to Joey, I’d be fucked.
Being in the same room as him has the same effect as a marathon on my body.
Wild heartbeat, sweats, and the inability to sound remotely coherent. Joey makes me a bumbling mess.
But staying away from him the past few months hasn’t worked.
He doesn’t let me put space where I so very much need it.
Ugh. I climb out of the truck and slam the door with far more attitude than I normally allow myself.
I glance around to make sure no one heard.
Thank god, I’m alone in the parking lot.
The office is familiar and warm, and it smells like vanilla and cinnamon. The office girls always have a candle going.
I know something big is going down when I see Cindy is in the office.
She effectively retired a few months ago, and the new office manager is a fresh hire who Beau found through a recruitment agency.
She’s been great, at least from what I’ve heard.
The guys don’t seem to have any issues and the paycheck always hits on time.
“Hi, Mama,” I say with a hug.
Cindy chuckles against me. She pulls away to gently slap my cheek. “You need to shave.”
I rub my beard with narrowed eyes. “I like it. Maybe I’ll shave the beard but keep the mustache.”
“How very Tom Selleck of you,” Cindy says with a shit-eating grin.
I play stupid. “Who?”
She makes an annoyed noise and I can’t help but laugh. Yeah, I know who he is, but she hates the reminder of being “old” and I love to remind her as often as I can. I hear Beau’s gentle voice in the back conference room, and that feeling of being on edge consumes me again.
“Everything all right?” I ask quietly while glancing around. I lean toward Cindy to whisper even more quietly, “Everyone’s okay, right?”
Cindy pats my arm. “Everything is fine. Beau just has a big announcement.”