Chapter Sixteen

Dell wasn’t sure how it had happened. Somehow, five out of the past six nights had found him with a houseguest, and he wasn’t the least bit tired of her yet.

She was sitting on his couch going on about the cold frame she wanted to build, and kept having to push her glasses up her nose. It had taken all of two nights for her to bust those out, saying she couldn’t keep wearing her contacts or they were going to end up in the back of her eyes and lodged into her brain.

He didn’t know why her weird little anxieties were so endearing.

“I love your glasses.”

She gave his shoulder a shove. “Shut up.”

“I do. They’re so nerdy. It’s like a fetish I didn’t know I had.”

“I hate you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And unfortunately, I have to bring out the big nerd guns tonight.”

“And that is?”

She pulled her overnight bag off the floor and retrieved a little plastic case out of her bag and opened it.

He looked at the bizarre instrument inside. “What the hell is that?”

“My retainer.”

“I’m sorry. We’re not sixteen. You cannot have a retainer.”

She flung her head back onto the couch. “I have a migrating tooth,” she mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

“A what?”

“My tooth moves if I don’t wear my retainer. It will slowly inch its way back to the roof of my mouth and I can’t believe I just told you that. I’m never going to have sex again, am I?”

“You have a tooth in the roof of your mouth.”

“I had a tooth in the roof of my mouth.” She covered her face with her hands. “I have to go home now.”

“Not on your life.” He laughed, couldn’t help himself, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. “My little freak of nature.”

“Yeah, that’s not what you were saying in high school.”

Ouch. When he’d apologized to her at the bar that night, he’d meant it. In high school he hadn’t thought about how she might feel being the butt of a joke. He’d just thought about how she was one of those people he’d never be. Good at school, tests. Charlie-stuff his parents had praised to high heaven and wondered why it’d skipped a kid.

“Hey.” She poked his chest. “Don’t get all frowny. I’ll have to start reminding you I deserved at least a little of it. Remember the talent show?”

“Oh, God. The cow-milking play?”

She nodded. “It was awful.”

“Please tell me your parents videotaped it. I need to see that again. Probably be a turn-on for me now.”

She shoved at his chest. “No.” But she was laughing, and everything about this felt right.

He was in trouble, but he couldn’t resist her. He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her earlobe, and looked at her, right in the eye, refusing to let himself chicken out. “I wasn’t very nice to you then.” It was uncomfortable, but it needed to be said.

“No one was.”

Christ, she killed him. All matter of fact, not all screwed up over it like he was. Infinitely stronger and wiser than him, and he didn’t even care, because her being here made him feel worthy of her. She’d chosen him, and she hadn’t had to. His fingertips touched her hair, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. She squirmed, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t ever want to let go.

“I was jealous, you know.”

“Jealous?” She scoffed. “Of what?”

“You were so smart…and I wasn’t very.”

She let out a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. “I think we both did okay.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.

The words hovered, weighted with importance. He didn’t let his eyes leave her face. “Yeah, I’d say we both did pretty damn good.”

She smiled and he managed one in return, leaning in to kiss her, to lose himself in her. But her phone went off.

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t. I can’t not answer a ringing phone. What if it’s important?”

He slid his hands up her sides, bringing her tank top with them. “What if it’s not?”

She shook her head and pushed him away. “Can’t. Can’t do it.” She hopped up, found her phone and flipped it open. Even from a few feet away he could hear the immediate onslaught of a woman’s voice.

“Mom. Mom. Jeez. Mom.” Mia held up a finger and disappeared down the hall. Dell scrubbed his hands over his face. What on God’s green earth was he doing? He was two bizarre idiosyncrasies away from falling for her completely and about ten bricks short of a load.

He looked up at the ceiling. What exactly was the harm in falling for Mia?

She’s your direct competition, moron.

Right. Right.

Why didn’t that feel right at all?

Probably because they hadn’t been to market yet. How was he going to feel tomorrow when customers lined up at her booth instead of his? Was it really going to be that easy to forget she’d been the one to start the battle of the sexes? That every customer at her booth meant one less sale for him, and each lost sale put him on increasingly crumbling ground.

And if she tried to help him again, he was pretty sure his man card would be revoked along with thoroughly imploding any chance he might have to earn his father’s respect. As much as he needed her help, as much as it seemed harmless on the surface, if Dad found out he’d be even more fucked than he already was.

Mia returned with the phone off her ear and a tight smile. His depressing thoughts stopped. When she slid onto the couch next to him any of her humor and ease from earlier was gone.

“Something wrong?”

“I guess word got to Mom that you and I…” She rubbed her tongue over her bottom lip, so he let his hand travel from calf to thigh. It was only fair.

“You and I?”

“Had dinner at Moonrise the other night. And I guess someone saw us kissing in the parking lot.”

“That was hardly a kiss.” He stroked his index finger up and down her leg from her kneecap to the hem of her shorts.

“Well, enough of a kiss for my mother.” She pushed off the couch and began to pace. Dell folded his arms behind his head and enjoyed the view.

Despite being short, she had long, pretty legs. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her tank top. A very nice view indeed.

“She wants me to bring you to dinner.”

Dell stilled. “Woah. What?”

“I didn’t say I want you to come to dinner. I said that’s what my mother wants.”

He straightened, the offhanded comment pricking at his pride a little. “You don’t want me to come to dinner?”

She blinked at him. “You want to?”

This conversation had gotten weird quick. “I… Let’s rewind for a second. Why does your mother want me to come to dinner?”

“Because, if I’m seeing ‘that boy’—that boy being you—’he’d better be willing to come visit with your family.’” Her imitation of her mother made him smile.

She shook her head, looking grave. “Yeah, you definitely cannot come to dinner.”

“Why not?”

“Because everything about that smile screams bad boy and my mother will flip.”

Dell upped the wattage of his grin. “I love to make mothers flip.”

“Dell, be serious. You don’t want to come to dinner with my family. They’re nuts.”

He leaned forward, grabbing Mia’s hand and pulling her toward him. “Do you want me to?”

She looked down at their joined hands, her expression pained. “No. Yes. Yes and no? Can my answer be both?”

Dell shook his head, then tugged until she was on his lap. She framed his face with her hands and he had the uncomfortable realization he’d do just about anything she asked him to. Including go to dinner with her crazy family. If it meant more of this…what was the harm?

He ignored the little voice that whispered, profits, money, farm.

“I’ll go.”

“Are you sure?”

His hands smoothed down her back. Not even a little bit, but apparently that wasn’t going to stop him.

* * *

Mia scarfed down a bagel with one hand while Dell helped load his truck with her market produce.

“How do you have so much stuff?”

“I had some canned stuff leftover from winter, some garlic, onion. I kept them up in case of emergency. Good potato crop.”

He frowned, finished shoving the last pallet into the bed of the truck. “Quite the planner.”

Mia’s stomach turned as she climbed into the passenger seat. The past week it had been kind of easy to pretend this stuff didn’t matter.

But it did. More varieties in crop to sell meant more people would buy from her where they could get different things all at one place.

It irked her that she felt guilty. She shouldn’t feel guilty for doing her job. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t have an emergency crop.

But the guilt didn’t desist, and the stomach-turning edged deeper. And deeper still when silence lingered as Dell drove toward Millertown.

Mia tried to think of a safe topic, but came up blank. Usually they talked about farm stuff. Didn’t seem like a good idea now. Or they’d talk about the people they knew, but she’d been with him every night but one this week and they’d pretty much exhausted all conversation there.

“The Cardinals won last night.”

“I know. We watched the game together.”

“Oh. Right.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His hands were tight on the steering wheel and his expression was…hard. Unreadable. Not pleasant.

“Oh. Here.” Mia pulled a twenty out of her purse. “Here’s my share for gas.”

He glanced at the twenty in her hand, then nodded to his wallet in the center console. Somehow, though she didn’t think it possible, his expression hardened further.

She’d screwed up somehow, but…how? What had she done? Just having more stuff to sell? Well, that wasn’t fair. And it was kind of petty of him to get upset over that.

“Supposed to rain tomorrow.”

Mia looked over at him. There was nothing relaxed or easy about the way he said it, but he was trying, so she would, too.

“Yeah. Can’t say as we need it.”

“Nope. Sure don’t.”

Silence again. And the only thing that punctuated the silence on the thirty-minute drive was stupid conversation like that.

When Dell pulled into a parking space at the market, they both sat for a second, staring at the windshield. Then he patted her knee.

“Good luck today, sugar.”

Mia blinked, but he was out of the truck before she could respond. Cara and Charlie descended, yapping and complaining a mile a minute while they unloaded the truck bed.

What the hell were they doing?

“Isn’t it going to bother you when he takes his shirt off?” Cara asked, placing onions in a neat row.

Mia hadn’t given it any thought. Which, considering as much thought as she gave everything, was kind of strange. But she hadn’t thought about Dell and his flirting at the market.

Mia sneaked a glance at him. He still had his T-shirt on and he was talking to Charlie about something as he set up their booth.

“Mia?”

“What? No. No, it won’t bother me. He can do what he wants.” Which was true. As much as she wanted to read into him inviting her over every night but one this week, the bottom line was they’d always agreed what was between them was going to just be fun until things got too complicated.

Was this too complicated? The ride here seemed to point to yes.

Mia spent the morning on considerable edge. She kept glancing at Dell. Trying to discern what every little thing meant. Like, for starters, why it took him nearly an hour to take his shirt off when he normally whipped it off before customers even started arriving. Or why he didn’t seem to be smiling quite so much as usual. Or…

For the billionth time, Mia closed her eyes and reminded herself she needed to focus on herself. On Pruitt Farm. On what was really important.

Of course, that just made her glance over at Dell again. She hadn’t caught him looking at her once.

“All right, Mia. Ready for BOTS?”

Mia frowned over at Val. “BOTS?”

“Battle of the sexes. Today it’s who can hull the most strawberries in a minute. We’re going to try to balance out the events each week. I hate to come off sexist, but I think it’s pretty obvious Dell would win just about every physical event. And we want there to be some suspense. I tell you what, this battle of the sexes thing was genius. Just genius. We’ve had an increase in customers and earnings each week.”

Val led Mia over to the little tent where they’d set up two chairs and two cartons of strawberries. Mia squinted over at Dell’s booth, but didn’t see him.

“You know, I heard a funny little rumor.” Val’s voice was low, conspiratorial.

“Yeah?”

“Someone said they saw you and Dell kissing.”

“That is a funny little rumor.” Mia took her seat.

Dell sat next to her. He didn’t smile. “Got quite a line over at your booth.”

She glanced at her booth, then at his. Yeah, she was winning. It didn’t feel good at all. “It’s one week, Dell.”

“For you.”

Mia leaned closer so she could whisper while Farrah and Val set up. “So you’re pissed I’m earning more money than you?”

He scratched a hand through his hair. “No. I’m not pissed.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’m not pissed at you. I’m just…pissed.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. She didn’t want him to lose his farm. But she’d done all the helping she could afford to do. Had to remember that.

He glanced at her then. “Me too.”

She got the uncomfortable feeling he didn’t just mean about the farm stuff.

Val started talking to the crowd in her bullhorn. Farrah handed them knives. When Val shouted go, Mia methodically hulled the strawberries without much thought.

Val and Farrah counted, then pronounced Mia the winner, and the crowd that had gathered clapped enthusiastically.

Not one second of it gave her any pleasure.

“Of course you’re going to win the girly activities.” Dell didn’t say it with any humor.

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Maybe she was overreacting, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t. He didn’t get to make her feel like she had.

His brows drew together, his mouth turning in to a hard-edged line. “I’m not losing anything.”

Because she was irritated and apparently stupid, she kept going. “And for what it’s worth, you could probably keep your shirt on at least one damn week.” Her cheeks heated because, hello, that was jealousy talking and she’d never known jealousy to be an attractive trait.

“Yeah, well you could have not made this guys against girls, because I’m losing customers right and left. So thanks a lot for that.”

She opened her mouth to apologize. She knew how much each customer mattered to him this year. She knew he hadn’t talked to his dad all week and he could be in serious trouble.

But, damn it, she couldn’t give up her farm for his. Maybe she wasn’t in as much danger, but what kind of person did it make her if she rolled over just because some guy had had sex with her?

So she walked back to her booth instead of trying to explain to him or trying to figure out where they were. Didn’t matter.

If there was anything she prided herself on when it came to the whole waiting-for-sex thing, it was that she’d learned how to be her own person. She’d stopped trying to fit in and she hadn’t sacrificed that for male attention. Ever.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” Mia pushed past Cara to get behind the table. She took a long drink out of her water bottle and purposefully did not look at Dell or anywhere near the vicinity of the Morning Sun Farms stand.

Yup. This was too complicated. Fun till it’s not. Well, this wasn’t fun. Watching him flirt with other women wasn’t fun, and arguing with him over customers wasn’t fun, and feeling like her stomach was tied into a thousand knots was not fun.

Mia blinked. She was not going to cry. She’d had a quickie affair. Good for her. No sense crying over it.

Cara squeezed her shoulder and it took everything Mia had not to give in to those tears. Damn it, she didn’t want it to be over. She didn’t want it to be complicated. She took a deep breath and let it out.

She couldn’t change the fact that Dell’s farm was in trouble any more than she could change the fact that she felt horribly sorry for him. She couldn’t change her jealousy any more than she could change the fact that they were competing for the same damn customers and apparently couldn’t do it without arguing.

Another breath and she felt a little more in control of the tears. She’d had her fun, now it was time to move on. Dell loved his farm, yes, but she loved hers just as much. Helping a little hadn’t hurt her any, but if she kept things going with him she’d be tempted to help him and hurt herself.

She couldn’t let her soft heart get in the way of her life.

Why couldn’t she have realized that before her heart got involved?