Chapter Nine

Mia stood stock-still long after the taillights of Dell’s truck disappeared around the corner.

What on earth had just happened?

He’d kissed her. Like, really kissed her. And it was kind of awesome. No first-kiss jittery awkwardness or insane confessions. It was only fair. The universe owed her that after what had happened at his place.

But…how had it happened? Why had it happened? And where was she supposed to go from here? He’d just left. And was picking her up tomorrow morning and… What the hell?

Beyond all that, she had no idea what the damage to her crops was or what she was going to be able to do about it. She had her stuff put away for tomorrow, but what about the crops she sold to the restaurant in Millertown? What about the next few market weeks? What was left and what could she do?

Good God this was a mess.

Cara’s car headlights swung into the parking space in front of the apartment and Mia realized she hadn’t moved since Dell released her.

“Oh, my God. How many times has Mom called you?” Cara slammed her door and walked up the sidewalk. “I swear, it’s like she didn’t even believe me there was no hail in Millertown. Where’s your truck? At Mom and Dad’s?”

Mia swallowed. “Well, no.”

Cara walked inside, tossing her keys and purse on the ancient couch in their small living room. “Ooookay. So, where is it? Did you have hail damage? Mom said the hail was as big as footballs.”

“Softballs, maybe.”

Cara pulled a can of soda out of the fridge, studied her for a beat. “Okay, give it up. Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not—”

“Gonna close the door?”

Mia looked at her hand. Yup, it was still holding the door open. Wow. Close door. Take off shoes.

Mia forced herself to act, all while Cara studied her intently.

“What are you wearing? Those are not your clothes. Where’s your truck?”

“Well, my truck is at Dell’s.” She hoped if she mumbled the information nonchalantly enough, Cara would let the subject drop. And she wouldn’t pick up on the fact Mia was wearing Dell’s clothes and take that the way wrong way.

“What? What is your truck doing at Dell’s? Are you wearing Dell’s clothes? Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Spill it!”

“My windshield is bashed in.”

“Mia.” Cara plopped onto the couch, and Mia sank to the couch next to her.

“All right. I went over there to yell at him because he put a produce stand up next to the farm.”

“Evil bastard.”

Mia was about to defend him—evil and bastard were harsh—but defending him would give away more than Dell’s clothes did. “Anyway, it started hailing and raining. My windshield got bashed, my shirt was wet and a little see-through, and he gave me some dry clothes and drove me home.”

That was her story and she was sticking to it. Cara didn’t need to know the rest. No sirree. She would not crack under Cara’s speculative stare.

“And he tried to kiss me and I blurted out I was a virgin and then we got here and he really did kiss me.”

“What!” The screech had to have broken the sound barrier. Grandma Phelps in Arizona had probably heard Cara’s outburst. “You told him you’re a virgin and he…” Cara shook her head, held up a hand. “Back up. Walk me through it. No detail left unturned.”

Reliving her idiocy wasn’t high on her to-do list. She had to start making some contingency plans for what farm damage awaited her in the morning light.

But…maybe Cara would know what to do about Dell, because after that kiss, Mia had no idea how she was supposed to act when he came to pick her up tomorrow morning.

Oh. God.

She went through the whole scenario. Her face overheated at the whole virgin blurting retelling, and Cara’s occasional screeched “what” or “oh, my God” didn’t help, but Mia got the story out. With her face buried in her pulled-up knees, Mia groaned. “So?”

Cara was quiet for a few seconds. Mia peeked between her knees, trying to read her sister’s expression. No such luck. Cara had complete poker face on.

Mia was so jealous she could cry. Why didn’t she have the ability to keep her mouth shut and look totally unaffected?

“Oh, my God,” Cara said in a hushed tone. “What if he has some kind of creepy virgin fetish?”

“Cara! Ew!”

“Well…”

“He said he wanted to kiss me before he knew that! And if you’d seen his face after I let that little bomb drop, you’d know you were wrong.”

Cara’s concern turned into a grin. “I totally thought there was something between you guys at the bar, but I talked myself out of it. I figured you’d never go for the bad boy.”

“He’s not a bad boy.” Nothing she’d seen of Dell in the past few weeks was bad, per se. Sometimes a little underhanded, but seeing why he was acting that way changed her perception of it.

“Kevin has some stories to tell. Apparently Dell and his buddies got drunk one night and wrecked his Dad’s brand-new bailer. Kevin’s brother was there and saw it all.”

“And how many years ago was that?”

“Man, you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t have anything, but I know what it’s like for things you used to do to follow you long after they’ve stopped being relevant.” Mia toyed with the sleeve of her—no, Dell’s—sweatshirt. A warm, jumpy sensation pinged through her stomach, bringing her back to the important subject at hand. “What do I do tomorrow when he picks me up? If I don’t have a plan I’ll start talking about my period or something even more embarrassing.”

Cara snorted out a laugh then reached over and patted Mia’s knee. “No idea, but think of it this way. He kissed you after you said, like, the most embarrassing thing ever.”

“That doesn’t help me. He walked away, too. And…you’re the expert on guys. You’re supposed to know what I’m supposed to do. Help me.”

“Okay. Well, do you like him? I mean more than in the middle-school sense. Is he a nice guy? Is he respectful? Do you want to jump his bones?”

Mia cradled her head in her hands. “I don’t even know what bones I’m supposed to want to jump.”

“Only one, kiddo, and even you aren’t that naive. But, you know, are you interested?”

“I don’t know. He’s a direct competitor and probably out of my social league and the guy cannot keep a shirt on.”

“That’s not answering the question. Besides, when a guy looks like Dell the shirt thing is a plus, not a minus.”

“I…” Mia looked down at her clutched hands. Even contemplating sex with Dell seemed like a big leap. He’d kissed her once. And there were enough complications with the market and their opposite personalities that she didn’t imagine she’d be magically falling into bed with him.

But if the situation presented itself…

The problem was, she did like him. Liked his dedication to his farm and his sense of humor. There was an inner decency about him. Getting her dry clothes, driving her home, not being a total ass in the face of her embarrassing confession.

But…but…but…

Ugh.

“Just be yourself. That’s what you were doing when he kissed you, right?”

“Well, yes, but I could do without the verbal diarrhea. Whether that’s being myself or not.” But Cara had a point. It wasn’t as if she’d been some better, more seductive version of herself at Dell’s house. She hadn’t been trying to be anything, and he’d kissed her anyway. Kissed her really, really well. Not that she had a frame of reference, but still. That was one damn good kiss. One she wouldn’t forget any time soon.

Of course, she also couldn’t forget he’d left without a word right after. Well, except that he’d pick her up at six. Mia groaned and curled into the couch cushion.

Cara patted her shoulder. “Welcome to the real word, big sister. It kinda sucks. But, hey, if you’re lucky you’ll finally get some sex out of the deal.” Cara hopped off the couch. “I’ll get the ice cream.”

She didn’t need ice cream. She needed a time machine. Not necessarily to go back and change it, but to fast-forward to a point where she knew what the hell to do about it.