Chapter Ten

Mia paced her living room, hoping if she played out every single scenario she wouldn’t be prompted to say something stupid. It had kind of worked when she’d first started working at the market. Practicing what to say had allayed her nerves to a manageable point and people who hadn’t grown up with her never looked at her twice.

That first year at the market, growing into her confidence, her ability to be around people without the label “geek” weighing her words had been amazing. Liberating. And every year had gotten better. Maybe she’d never entered social-butterfly territory, but nobody looked at her funny when she answered a question or offered change. She wasn’t making lifelong friends, but she wasn’t a laughingstock, either. Mia nodded to herself. Yesterday was a blip.

She glanced at the microwave clock. 5:59. Okay, it was very possible she was going to be sick. She pressed a hand to her stomach, took a deep breath. Not going to be sick. Not going to be nervous. She was calm, cool, collected.

Sure.

A knock sounded on the door and Mia jumped. Yeah, real calm, cool and collected. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. She opened the door. The sky behind Dell was black and he had his beat-up baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

“Morning,” he offered in a gruff voice. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Mia grabbed her coat and slipped it on before locking the door behind her. She followed Dell to his truck and silently repeated as many self-affirming, keep-your-mouth-shut mantras as she could.

“You see your damage this morning?” Mia patted herself on the back. A normal question. She could do this. She could totally be normal.

“Not much. Still too dark. Cold frame intact. Major miracle right there. Pretty sure the corn is shot. Tomatoes. Greens probably hit or miss. Squash might come through. But I just planted a whole bunch of stuff. Can’t imagine it survived.”

She’d find the same once she inspected her fields, but she didn’t have a cold frame. She could also afford to break even this year. She wouldn’t like it, but she could handle it knowing the weather was to blame.

Mia glanced at Dell from her peripheral vision as he pulled out of the parking space. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his mouth was grim. He looked tired.

“You get any sleep last night?” Was that was too personal a question? She didn’t know, but at least it might keep conversation in neutral territory.

“Not much.” His mouth curved into a small smile. “Few things on my mind.”

She really couldn’t imagine being in his position. Her dad supported every decision she made, encouraged her to take what she wanted from the farm, never made her feel bad about not wanting to deal with the dairy portion.

“In case you didn’t catch that, you were one of the things on my mind.”

The sound that came out of her mouth really couldn’t be counted as a word. Something like a squeak and a gasp hidden under the guise of saying “oh.”

“Can’t say as I know what to do about you, Mia.”

She clamped her teeth into her bottom lip. It was the only way to keep another inarticulate sound from escaping her. And she wasn’t embarrassing herself this morning. She absolutely wasn’t.

He chuckled softly. “You’re going to have to speak at some point. Even if you blurt out something goofy.”

She shook her head. He was very wrong. She didn’t have to speak. She didn’t have to utter another word ever again.

“Suit yourself. Just means I get to do all the talking. And if you’re not talking, that means you can’t disagree with me. That suits me just fine.”

What happened to confident and collected? What happened to ‘she could do this’? She unclenched her teeth and focused on saying each word precisely. “What would I disagree with you about?”

“Well, I was thinking we could do this share-a-ride thing more often. I did some math last night when I was trying not to think about what I’d like to do to you, and if we split gas costs, I could save a decent chunk of change.”

Her stomach flipped like it did whenever Cara badgered her into riding a roller coaster. Mia had never cared for that feeling, but Dell’s cocky grin gave it some appeal. That, and the spark of heat in a sorely neglected part of her anatomy.

“It’d save you money, too, so I figure we’re not really undermining our whole competitor’s stance.”

Mia nodded. “Right. No. That sounds good.”

He gave her a brief glance and winked before returning his eyes to the road.

“Cara once told me only douchebags wink.”

Dell laughed, which made her smile. There was something nice about making him laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you under the impression I’m a douchebag?”

“No.” Since he was driving, she didn’t feel self-conscious about studying his profile. His face was all angles and planes. A masculine face. Right under the brim of his cap, lines fanned out at the corner of his eyes, either from smiling too much or squinting at the sun too much. Even in May his skin was tan and golden and she itched to touch it.

It made her smile to think she might be able to. “So, what are you going to do about me?”

He met her gaze as he stopped at the stoplight and she noticed the black under his eyes and the couple days’ growth of beard. Some of her bravado faded into concern. Her hand reached out to touch his cheek, but she caught herself.

Which was stupid, because her hand was now just there, in the air between them. Awkward.

Just as she got enough brainpower to snatch it back, Dell grabbed it. Then, in a move that made her heart beat so hard it felt like her entire body was pulsing, he pressed the palm of her hand to his cheek. Then he scraped the edge of his whiskered cheek across her palm.

The fact she could imagine him rubbing those whiskers on other parts of her body was enough to make her squirm and turn really, really red.

A honk interrupted the moment. She cleared her throat. “Um, green light.”

He shook his head, released her hand. “Right.” He returned his focus to the road as the guy behind them laid on the horn.

Dell muttered something about jackasses and then turned the truck onto the gravel drive leading to the farm. “Where do you want me to go?”

Mia pointed to the vegetable barn, trying not to grin at the thought she’d affected him as much as he affected her.

He pushed the truck into park and, without another word, they both got out and he helped her carry her pallets of vegetables to his truck as the sun began to rise in the east, covering the farm with a pretty golden glow. Dell had kept one half of his truck bed empty and her goods fit with only a bit of room to spare. He had a good idea with this ride sharing. Especially in light of the money she’d lose rebuying seeds.

“Well, that’s it.” Mia pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time. “Timed it pretty well, really.”

When she looked up, she realized he was standing in front of her. The rising sun haloed his hat and he just smiled.

“What?” she demanded. “Dirt?” She wiped at her face.

He closed the distance between them so fast she didn’t even notice until she looked up and her chest bumped into his stomach.

Mia cleared her throat, closed her hand around her phone and squeezed hard. “I’m not going to say anything stupid this time.” She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Because announcing you weren’t going to say something stupid wasn’t at all stupid.

Where was an apocalypse when you needed one?

“Glad to hear it.” There was humor in his voice and when she looked up, he was still smiling, but it was a smile that made her return it. His fingertip touched the tip of her ear, curved down. A light touch. Simple enough her mind shouldn’t be galloping ahead to where he might touch next and what she would be supposed to do in return.

It was a dizzying mix of nerves and excitement and uncertainty and want.

“You look good at dawn,” he said, his voice low, feathering across her forehead.

“Well, you do, too.” Her heart leaped into her throat and she couldn’t force another word out. Which was probably really good or she’d say something like, want to make out in the barn a bit? She’d really like to know what making out was like. Even if she did something stupid, because Dell seemed really good at ignoring or humoring her stupid.

Instead, Dell leaned his head down and—

A horn blasting cut him off. They both looked to see her dad’s truck bouncing up the path from the cow barn.

Mia swallowed. Okay, this was probably going to get weird. Dad pulled his truck to a stop next to Dell’s. Slowly, he lumbered over to them.

Dad was never in a hurry, and it had never made her nervous until this very minute.

“Morning,” he offered.

“Morning,” Dell replied, taking a very obvious step away from Mia. “I don’t think we’ve met, Mr. Pruitt. I’m Dell Wainwright. I’m pretty sure you know my dad.” He held out a hand, and it hovered there. In the air. Unreciprocated.

Dad stood there, hands in his pockets, thoughtfully working the chew around in his mouth as he studied Dell’s hand. Mia wished to God he would say something. Anything. Please just anything.

“Yup.” Finally Dad pulled one hand free of his pockets and shook Dell’s hand.

She let out an audible sigh of relief. Her cheeks were on fire with embarrassment so she turned to the truck.

“We should get going, Dad. Did you have a chance to look around? Hasn’t been light for very long, but I’ve got to get to the market.”

“Some damage. Might be a slow few weeks, but replanting will get you back on track. Money’ll be tight.”

Mia snuck a glance at Dell. His jaw was set. Was he comparing that response to his own father’s? She wondered if he was being too hard on his father, if Mr. Wainwright might understand. She wondered a lot of things, and they all uncomfortably had to do with Dell.

“Hey, guys.” Anna walked around the corner of the barn. She had her milking boots on and her perfectly wavy blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. “You mind giving me a ride? Cara was going to pick me up, but if you’re already here…”

“You’re coming?”

“Face painting, remember?” Anna grinned. “Besides, everybody wants to see the battle of the sexes. Even the kids at school are talking about it.”

Dad returned to his truck without a word or a goodbye. He’d never cared for words like “sexes.”

“Um, well.”

“You don’t mind, do you, Dell?” Anna bulldozed on. “Just give me a second to get my paints and shoes. Be right back.” She didn’t even wait for an answer, just jogged away to the house.

“Sorry. I…” Mia shook her head. “My family’s kind of weird.”

He chuckled. “Join the club.” His expression sobered. “Forgot about the battle of the sexes thing.”

“Yeah.” Mia frowned down at her boots. Even without the kiss, she felt bad about going after Dell’s business now. He needed the sales a lot more than she did.

Except, she was a businesswoman. She had a business to run, too, and the hail damage could hurt her. If she worried about every farmer who was worse off, helped every guy struggling to make ends meet at the expense of her own business, she’d be done. Even if Dad left her everything, she needed an income to keep that everything going.

Mia looked up at Dell’s face, met his gaze. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. That this was a mistake. Too complicated. Getting involved put them at odds with their own lifeblood. Lifeblood they both loved more than just about anything else.

“Mia, maybe we should—”

“Anna’s coming,” Mia interrupted, cursing her sister’s hurrying as Anna squelched through the mud a few yards away.

“Guess we’ll talk about it later, huh?”

Mia nodded. “Guess so.” Just what she needed. More time to think about it.

* * *

The minute Dell got to the farmer’s market, Charlie was already there in bitch mode.

“Getting too cheap to even give me a ride now, huh?” Charlie glanced at Mia briefly. “Hey, Mia.” Then he did a double take. “You two ride together?”

Mia’s cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink that somehow prompted Dell to think about what other things might make her blush.

So not the time. “Mia had some hail damage to her windshield, so I gave her a ride.”

“Oh.” Charlie drew the word out like it explained everything. Dell wanted to laugh because it didn’t explain a damn thing.

What was he doing? He didn’t have a clue. The reminder of the battle of the sexes brought it all home. All the things he’d kind of ignored the past twelve hours.

She was trying to steal his customers. Maybe that was harsh, but having these little competitions every week had been her idea, in a way, and it was going to earn her customers. He shouldn’t blame her, couldn’t really when he caught her looking at him all cute and nervous.

Shit. He was so screwed. Screwed because the things he felt about Mia weren’t the things he usually felt about a woman. He didn’t just want to sleep with her—he wanted to hang out with her, because when he did, he didn’t feel like the idiot Wainwright. Even as smart as he knew she was, she didn’t act like he was the pretty face incapable of “intellectually stimulating” anything, as Corrie had once accused him. When they talked about farm stuff, Mia treated him like an equal.

With her, he didn’t think about not being able to get through to his dad. He just felt…comfortable. Good.

That was a really sticky place to be in right now. He pushed his cap up on his head, rubbed his forehead. It took him a few minutes to realize Charlie was staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

“This is usually about the time you start whipping off clothes and women line up to mindlessly buy your cabbage—which is not a euphemism. I hope.”

“Right.” Dell snuck a look at Mia, who was chatting with an elderly woman over a bunch of beets.

Whether or not he pursued this thing with Mia couldn’t change his business tactics. If she didn’t like it, well, that would be the end of whatever weird thing they had going on.

Dell pulled off his shirt and put his salesman hat on. He wasn’t going to be satisfied unless he sold every last turnip green.

An hour in and he hadn’t let himself look at Mia once. Whenever he got the urge, he went and restocked a pallet or took a walk around his side of the aisle, chatting up customers.

Val approached. “Hey, Dell, honey, how’s it going?” She unnecessarily patted his bare arm. “That storm was a nasty one. You come through all right?”

“It was tough, but we’ll be fine. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

She swatted at him playfully. “You ready for our battle of the sexes? I put on Facebook we’d start at eleven.” Val gestured to encompass the entire market. “I can already tell we have more people than usual.”

“Yeah. Sure. Push-ups again?”

“Actually, Farrah and I were talking about making the events more farm-y and maybe doing this every week? Mia agreed.”

Dell glanced at Mia’s booth. She was smiling at some guy in a chef’s coat. A chef’s coat. Where the hell did the guy think he was, on one of those competition cooking shows?

“Dell?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Whenever she is.” He didn’t care for the jealousy burning in his gut, but that didn’t make it go away. Maybe he’d channel it and kick her nice little ass in this stupid battle.

“You’re so screwed,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “Whatever you do, don’t beat her too bad. You’ll never have another female customer again.”

“Whatever. Watch the booth.” He followed Val to a truck full of hay bales.

“Help me up, honey?”

Dell helped Val up into the bed of the truck where she pulled out a megaphone and began announcing the battle of the sexes competition.

“Last week we had a push-up tie. This week, we wanted to see these two flex their farm muscles. They each have ten bales of hay. Whoever loads their ten bales into the appropriate truck in the parking lot first, wins this week’s battle of the sexes.”

Mia smiled at him, pulling a pair of gloves out of her back pocket. “You know this isn’t fair, right?”

Dell tried to smile back, but the chef guy was standing by the Pruitt stand…watching.

“Don’t you think men and women are equals, sugar?”

Her eyes narrowed. “If you recall, I told you not to call me that.”

This time Dell grinned. Val stepped between them before he could offer another comment to get her back up. Val told them which truck to put their bales in, then made a big show about placing them on either side of the full truck bed.

A crowd had indeed gathered, but Dell couldn’t take his focus off the stupid white chef coat. Asshole.

Val announced the event one more time into the bullhorn and then gave them an “on your marks, get set, go!”

Dell focused on the task at hand. It was no easy feat moving the bales. It didn’t just require strength, but dexterity in maneuvering an awkward square of hay around cars and people.

His muscles were screaming and his breath coming in quick spurts when he hefted the last bale into the truck bed. He looked around for Mia. She was scowling, a few yards behind him.

He’d won. Ha. Of course, that might not equal customers. Shit. Dell trudged back to the start of the race and sank onto the ground, wiping his forehead with his arm. Jesus, he was spent.

A few minutes later, Mia collapsed next to him and Val declared him the winner.

“I’m going to kick your ass next week,” she huffed. The guy in the chef coat waved as he walked to his hybrid car.

A fucking hybrid.

Mia waved in return, and the jealous burn was back. “Bet your chef friend can’t do that, sweetheart.”

Mia laughed between huffed breaths. “He’s the chef at Edibles. I’m a supplier. He was on his way to work and wanted to make sure his produce was going to be okay after the storm.” She stood and bent over, giving him an ample peek down her shirt. She patted his cheek. “But you don’t know what a confidence booster a little jealousy is.”

Then Mia sauntered back to the Pruitt booth, like she was something special.

Damn it, he was beginning to think she really was.