Chapter Five

They were just about done—Wyatt was whooping his ass—when Wade heard the engine in the distance. It was going really slowly, so he figured it was probably CC. He doubted she’d ever driven anything but that butt-ugly Prius hybrid her entire life.

A new car had been part of her employment package, but she’d stubbornly refused to take the zippy Jeep he’d bought her, citing her concerns about pollution and the ozone layer. Yeah, CC might have been Nebraskan born and bred, but she was a California chick, right down to her toes.

Although she had looked rather good at the big old wooden table earlier. He smiled at the image of CC bottle-feeding a piglet with a crazy dog flopped over her feet. She might not have been impressed with his house in town, but she’d been right at home in his mother’s kitchen.

His ribs suddenly felt tight. He should have brought her to Credence earlier. Maybe seeing him in his home environment would have shown her a different side to him, made it harder for her to just suddenly decide she was going to leave.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm as the engine noise drew closer. She’d be here soon, but he probably still had time to finish spreading the hay in this shelter if he put his back into it. He leaned over the pitchfork and got to work, grateful for it being cooler in here out of the sun.

It didn’t take long to work up a sweat in the summer. Hell, he’d taken his shirt off after the first fifteen minutes, which had earned a laugh and a shake of the head from Wyatt, who still looked cool as a cucumber.

Wade wasn’t farm-ready these days at all, but he fully intended to correct that, keeping strong and fit with good, hard, manual labor rather than an elliptical or pounding the streets of Denver.

The engine cut out, and Wade stopped what he was doing to listen to the low chatter of his father and CC as he gave her the usual farm tour spiel. Mom must have caved and let him out of the house.

Wade wasn’t paying any attention to the sow snuffling around the hay as he strained his ears to listen, stepping forward to get a little closer. He didn’t know the animal was right there until he tripped over it and toppled. The hog squealed in protest as it scooted away, clearing the shelter remarkably quickly for an ungainly two-hundred-and-twenty-pound beast. But it was too late for the two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man.

Wade fell square on his ass.

It was a soft enough landing with the hay cushioning his fall, despite the tines of the pitchfork being a little too close to his junk for comfort. Jesus Christ, was everything on the farm determined to upstage him today?

“Wade, that you?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Wade sprang to his feet. Hay clung to his hair and his jeans and the film of sweat on his chest. It poked and scratched as he brushed it off.

CC and his father appeared at the entrance. His father took one look at Wade and said, “Hog knocked you on your ass, didn’t it?”

“Well, to be fair, I kinda tripped over it.”

His father laughed. Actually he guffawed, because that was the way he laughed, the way he’d always laughed. Big and wide, with his whole body, holding his ribs and slapping his thigh.

“Hey, Wyatt,” he called. “Your brother landed on his ass.”

Wyatt’s hoot of laughter rang around the field.

“I’m okay, thank you for being so concerned,” Wade muttered, wiping his hands on the butt of his jeans as he headed toward them.

CC was staring at him like she’d never seen him before. She’d certainly never seen this version of him before. In fact, he doubted whether she’d ever seen him this disheveled. Sure, he’d been put on his ass on the field, plenty, but that had been a badge of honor.

Today he’d been bested by his brother and a goddamn hog.

Wyatt joined them as Wade strode out into the sunshine. His father was practically crying now he was laughing so hard.

“Are there some drugs left in his system, do you think?” Wade asked his brother.

Wyatt shrugged. “Hey, I’m still laughing on the inside.”

“Thanks, dude.” He turned to his father, who was turning red in the face. “Didn’t they say you shouldn’t exert yourself for six weeks?”

It only made his father laugh harder.

“Hi.” CC stopped looking weird, turned to Wyatt, and smiled as she extended her hand. “I’m CC, your brother’s PA. We’ve never met.”

She had a nice smile. It went all the way to her eyes. The kind of smile that told a person they had her full attention. Wyatt, who’d always gotten kinda quiet around women, sure seemed dazzled by it. “Hey,” he said, shaking her hand and releasing it quickly. “Pleased to meet you.”

It was mumbled, though, coming out more like pleastameetya.

“That’s a lot of hogs you got here,” she said, making polite conversation while his father pulled himself together.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh please.” She waved his formal address away. “CC’s fine.”

Wyatt shifted from one foot to the other, glancing at Wade before he said, “Yes, ma’am.”

CC laughed. “Okay, we’ll work on it.” She filled her lungs with air, her nose sniffing. “I thought it’d smell more than this.”

“Intensive hog farms stink to high heaven,” Wyatt confirmed, clearly in his comfort zone now. “Free-range farms less so.”

His father finally quit guffawing and cleared his throat. Wade shot him a stern look. “If you think you have your shit under control, why don’t you and Wyatt finish off the tour? I’ve got four more shelters.”

Cal nodded, pressing his lips together, obviously trying to suppress his smile.

“I can do them,” Wyatt said. “You go with Dad and…CC.”

Wade got the impression Wyatt was about to say and the girl for a moment. It’d been a long time since he’d seen Wyatt around a woman. He hadn’t realized they still made his brother so nervous.

“Nope. I’m doing my fair share, and I’m not stopping till they’re done.” Wade was not going to let this fairly simple, bread-and-butter farm chore get the better of him.

“Well you heard the man, CC. Come on over here to the wallow, and we’ll see if we can’t find you some more piglets to gush over while we’re at it.”

CC beamed at Cal. “That would be awesome.”

Wade was relieved when they walked away, his father forging on with CC, Wyatt dragging a little behind. At least he’d have some peace now.

His father looked over his shoulder and grinned like he wasn’t a man approaching seventy with a bum ticker. “Mind your step, son.”

Wade laughed and shook his head. “Bite me.”

…

Wyatt Carter had never been envious of his younger brother. Wade had excelled at what he loved and had worked hard to reach the dizzying heights of the NFL. He deserved all the success that came with it. It was weird having a celebrity brother, but none of that hoopla had ever interested Wyatt. He was doing what he loved, and the rest was bunkum.

But he envied Wade today.

Watching his brother and CC as they all ate lunch around the kitchen table stirred a bunch of feelings he’d tried mighty hard not to think about over the years.

They’d been back from the lower fields for an hour, but they’d only just started lunch because CC wouldn’t relinquish Wilburta. His mother had insisted they wouldn’t be eating with a hog at the table, not even if every spider on the farm started weaving webs singing the animal’s praises, so the animal was reluctantly returned to its makeshift home in the mudroom.

CC was asking their father about the birthing practices of hogs, and Wyatt liked that she seemed genuinely interested in the answers. He glanced at Wade. His brother hadn’t brought a woman home since Jasmine—over thirteen years ago. For what it was worth now, Wyatt had liked Jasmine, but she’d been overpoweringly pretty, and his tongue had tied into a dozen knots every time she’d spoken to him.

He was certain Jasmine had thought he had some kind of condition. Like a stutter. Or a head injury. More often than not, Wyatt felt like he had both. His track record with women was such that it was just easier not to say anything than blush and stammer his way through a conversation.

He must have been hiding behind the barn door when the smooth-talking gene was handed out, and God had given both their shares to Wade instead.

CC wasn’t as stunningly pretty as Jasmine, which, in theory, should have made it easier for Wyatt, but, in practice, not so much. Nearly forty years on this earth and he still felt like a big ol’ country bumpkin whenever a woman looked at him.

“Don’t you think so, Wyatt?

Wyatt blinked, his heart practically stopping in his chest as he realized that not only was CC talking to him, but everyone was looking at him expectantly. His vocal chords went into spasm just as CC reached for the nearby ketchup bottle which, thankfully, gave his frantic brain some seconds to catch up.

“Oh…ah.” He cleared his throat and prayed like hell he didn’t look as clueless as he felt. Wyatt flicked his gaze to Wade, who was sitting beside CC. Wade cocked an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his dumb face.

So much for brotherly solidarity.

Wyatt returned his gaze to CC. “Y…yes ma’am,” he said, taking a guess at the right response, ignoring Wade’s low, amused chuckle.

CC smiled. “Wyatt, I’m going to be hanging around here with Wilburta a lot.”

She grimaced a little as she twisted the ketchup top, which was obviously not playing ball. Wyatt half wished he could disappear into the ketchup as her eyes fixed on his face. Without turning to look at Wade, she passed him the bottle, which he took automatically, like a surgeon accepting an instrument.

“You should just call me CC.”

The very thought gave Wyatt an itch up his spine. He was a formal kind of guy. Between his Southern momma’s upbringing and his chronic shyness around women, it was hard to be anything but formal.

“Nah,” Wade said as he passed the opened bottle back to CC, who took it as automatically as Wade had accepted it. He winked at Wyatt. “Our momma raised us right, didn’t she, bro?”

CC drowned his mom’s hand-cut fries in ketchup. Wade snatched one and popped it into his mouth. “Hey,” she protested, slapping at his hand as he came back for another. “You already had a mountain.”

“But they’re my favorites,” Wade complained.

“There’s plenty more, Wade,” his mother said.

“Nah, they taste better off CC’s plate.”

CC rolled her eyes and pushed the plate between them so Wade could share her fries before asking his mother about her recipe.

Wyatt dropped his gaze back to his plate, a hot spike of envy lancing him clear through the middle. He knew his brother and CC weren’t in a relationship, despite what it seemed right now, but he’d like just a bit of whatever the hell it was they did have, because there was a familiarity between them that Wyatt yearned to have with a woman.

As a younger man, he’d dreamed about how his life would pan out. By now, he’d have thought he’d be married with a couple of little ankle biters riding around on the back of his ATV, bringing up another generation on this land he loved so much.

But his chronic, crippling shyness around women had made that little more than a fantasy. And the fact that there weren’t too many eligible women around these parts, anyway, had compounded his isolation.

Depressingly, he didn’t see it changing any time soon. It was something he’d been too busy to dwell on over the years, but watching Wade and CC together had brought it into sharp focus.

He was lonely, he realized. So damn lonely.

…

CC hadn’t been too keen on hitting The Lumberjack tonight, although apparently everyone around these parts called the saloon Jack’s. Again, she wanted to be a separate entity to Wade, and that wasn’t going to happen when she walked into the bar with the town’s number one son.

But mostly, she was still recovering from seeing Wade stripped to his jeans, hay in his hair and sticking to his chest. Her appreciation for farmer porn trebled on the spot this afternoon, and she’d been able to think of little else.

Sure, she’d seen Wade in various forms of undress before—shirtless, in Speedos and underwear during a commercial shoot, both of which left very little to the imagination, and in nothing but a low-slung towel. She’d also seen him sweaty during and after games, as well as after a morning run or a brutally hard workout session.

Hell, a few years back she’d even seen those infamous online pictures of him buck naked except for a fuzzy grayed-out area. The ones an ex had taken and sold to a tabloid back when he’d been a rookie.

The ones he did not talk about.

But seeing him shirtless and sweaty in that hog shelter?

Ooh la freaking la. It was like her ovaries, which had been lying dormant—almost extinct from years of little to no action—had suddenly roared to life. That fine sheen of sweat on his chest and abs and arms? The way his jeans had hugged low on his hips and that trail of hair had led her gaze down, down, down? His tussled mess of hair, complete with hay, and the smell of grass and animals and man flaring her nostrils?

That was why ladies loved country boys. And she’d definitely had a lady moment. Hell if she hadn’t wanted to trade her environmentally friendly Prius for a pickup truck.

Which was extra confusing, considering she didn’t even like Wade that much about 50 percent of the time. And oh, that’s right…he was her boss.

That was the line right there.

She’d left the employ of two CEOs prior to Wade who’d thought her services should extend beyond work hours. She’d be a complete hypocrite if she compromised her ethics for Wade. And a fool as well to choose a man who preferred a carousel of women to eternal monogamy.

Because that’s what CC demanded.

Her father had left her mother and the family home when CC had been three years old to live with another woman and her kids in the next town. Her mother had never fully recovered from his betrayal, and the long-term repercussions on her family and CC’s own relationship with men had been far-reaching.

No way could CC be with a guy who wouldn’t know monogamy if it knocked him on his ass.

But seeing Wade in farmer mode—all sweat and muscle and hay—had tripped some kind of switch. It was like a portal had opened to a whole other world and was sucking her in.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“Wade!”

About half a dozen people called to Wade as they entered the bar, and CC felt as if she’d been thrust into a scene from Cheers.

But it was different to the usual public adoration she’d seen in other places. Wherever Wade went, people came up to him, asked him for his autograph, wanted to shoot the breeze about a game or criticize a play. And it didn’t seem to matter to them if he was on a date or at a private party or in a meeting. It always got CC hot under the collar, but Wade took it all in his stride. She knew he considered it one of the pitfalls of celebrity.

But here, in his hometown, after an initial greeting, people turned back to their drinks and resumed their conversations. They didn’t get up or approach him. Nobody asked him to sign anything.

In Credence, apparently, his presence didn’t raise an eyebrow. He was just part of the fabric of the town—one of them. But more than that, it seemed as if they knew he needed to not be a celebrity every now and then. No wonder he wanted to come here to write, to get away from everyone always demanding a piece of him.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.”

CC took in the grinning man behind the bar. A very sexy guy, maybe a bit younger than Wade. Tall and built, with sandy-blond hair, a little long and shaggy at the back, a spectacular mouth, and a pair of cute dimples.

On another man, it might have all looked girly. But on this guy, it worked.

“Hey, man.” Wade grinned back, extending his hand. “Still ugly as ever, I see.”

The other guy laughed, his dimples perfectly symmetrical, his lips a wide, neat bow. Wade was certainly as handsome, but he had darker hair and more brooding features, his face looked more lived-in, like it’d been ground into the dirt a few dozen times. This guy looked like he could have sat for Botticelli.

His gaze cut to CC, and even she felt a little dazzled by it. Man, that smile should have been illegal in all fifty states. He needed to be careful what he did with that thing, especially to a woman who was suffering from farmer porn/estrogen overload.

“And who do we have here?”

“This is my PA. Cecilia Morgan. CC, meet Tucker Daniels. We played on the school football team together, he was a freshman my junior year.”

“Yeah,” Tucker said, putting out his hand. “So I know all his dirty little locker room secrets.”

CC shook Tucker’s hand. “I know one or two as well. Maybe we should compare notes?”

Tucker chuckled—even his laugh was spectacular—as he turned his gaze on Wade. “I like this one. You should keep her.”

CC laughed at the outrageous statement—she wasn’t anyone’s to keep. But his eyes danced, and his smile dazzled, and she didn’t take it any other way than the tease he’d obviously intended.

She was going to like Tucker, she could just tell.

“He making you live in that god-awful mausoleum?”

CC sighed. “He is.”

“Hey.” Wade’s fingers drummed on the bar. “It’s a classic piece of antebellum architecture, dickwad.”

“Whatever you say, Rhett.” Tucker grinned, and CC could totally see how it’d work on women. The man was an utter charmer. Smooth as cream. But apart from her initial dazzled reaction, it did nothing for her.

Not now that she’d developed a hankering for farmers.

“I think—” Tucker planted his elbow on the bar and leaned across a little, dropping his voice an octave. “Deep down, he’s one of those people who go around reenacting the Civil War.”

CC laughed at the picture that created in her head. She didn’t know how bored Wade would have to get to consider lying around pretending to be dead on a field somewhere all day.

“Can’t a man get a drink around here, or does he have to pour his own?”

Tucker laughed. “The usual?”

“Yep.”

“Can I get you something to drink, CC?”

“Thanks.”

“You want what he’s having?”

CC’s mind wandered to a shirtless Wade with hay stuck to a very fine-looking pectoral—she wanted some of that—before she pulled it back. “As long as it’s tequila.”

He glanced at Wade. “A keeper, I tell you.”

“Tequila?” Wade cocked an eyebrow.

Yep, tequila. Just because she didn’t drink very much didn’t mean she didn’t drink ever. Or didn’t know how to cut loose. And today she’d not only moved to small-town America, but had experienced a hot flash for her boss in the middle of a hog field.

It was a tequila kinda night.

Tucker was putting their drinks in front of them on the bar when somebody thumped Wade on the shoulder. “Who gave this dirtbag permission to enter Credence?”

CC turned along with Wade, who was smiling. It wasn’t a dazzler like Tucker’s, but it still tickled between her ribs. “My name’s on the welcome sign, dude. That’s all the permission I need.”

“Hey, man.” The newcomer shook Wade’s hand and yanked him forward into a manly hug with much back-smacking. “I hear you’re going to be in town for a few months.”

“For the summer. Writing a book.”

The other guy laughed and shook his head at Tucker. “Can you believe this horseshit? I didn’t even know he could read, did you?”

Wade laughed. “You’re such an asshole. No wonder you’re a cop.”

New guy laughed before turning his attention on CC. “Hey there. I’m Arlo Pike. You must be CC.”

CC blinked as yet another Credence hottie addressed her. Tall, lean, his hair jet-black, a five o’clock shadow that made you want to reach out and touch. About the same age as Tucker, at a guess.

What the hell was in their drinking water around here?

She looked around the bar and realized she was the only apparently single woman in it. There were three other women, but they all appeared to be attached to someone and about twenty years older.

It suddenly occurred to CC that she was in an awesome position—had she been interested in living in a small town with supernatural powers over estrogen cycles. For the rest of her life.

Which she was not.

The male/female ratio may have sucked for the men of Credence, but for the women? Hell, it was raining men. Good-looking men not wearing wedding bands.

And Jack’s was like the Jell-O pit.

“How in hell do you know who she is?” Wade demanded.

Arlo shrugged like he was the fount of all Credence knowledge, gossip, and hearsay. “It’s my job to have my finger on the pulse.”

“My mother told you, didn’t she?”

That was the problem with having the police station next door to the municipal county building.

Arlo smiled at CC. “He always this moody?”

“Only at certain times of the month.”

Arlo looked stunned for a second or two, like he hadn’t quite heard such a thing come from the mouth of a chick before, then he threw back his head and laughed out loud.

He looked at Tucker and pointed at CC. “She is awesome.”

Tucker nodded. “I know, right?”

Wade sighed. “Can I get you a drink, Arlo?”

He nodded. “The usual.” Then he noticed the shot glass in front of CC. “No. Wait. I’ll have what she’s having.”

Tucker knocked on the bar. “One tequila coming right up.”

Arlo took the barstool on the other side of CC and looked at Wade. “You coming to the meeting tomorrow night?”

“What meeting?”

“The special town meeting.”

“There’s a special town meeting?”

“Yes, there is,” CC said, quickly knocking back her shot, shutting her eyes as it burned all the way down. She opened her eyes and pushed her shot glass at Tucker. “Hit me again.”

Wade blinked. “How do you know?”

“Your mother told me.”

“What in hell requires a special town meeting?” Wade asked Arlo. “They’re not trying to put another wind turbine in, are they?”

“Nah.” Arlo knocked his shot back and shoved his toward Tucker for a refill, too. “It’s the women problem.”

“We have a women problem?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said in a voice that dripped with sarcasm. “We don’t have any.”

Wade shrugged. “Suits me.”

“Says the man who gets laid more often than all of One Direction put together,” Arlo scoffed.

CC laughed as Wade rolled his eyes. She could tell she was going to like Arlo, too.

“What are they going to propose? You can’t force anyone to come and live here.”

“Don’t know.” Arlo shrugged. “But I sure as hell want to find out.”

“Yeah, well, have fun with that. I’d rather watch grass grow than listen to whatever harebrained scheme my mother and her cronies are cooking up.”

“Oh, but…” CC frowned. “I told your mother you’d be there. That we’d both be there.”

Wade shook his head. “Hell no.”

“I promised her, Wade.” Ronnie had been excited that Wade would be around long enough to participate in the civic life of Credence. And CC had figured it wasn’t going to kill him.

“Why?”

“It’s a town meeting. Are you part of this town or not?”

“Yeah, Wade.” Tucker grinned at him. “You in or out, dude?”

“It’s your mom,” CC pressed. “She’s doing her civic duty, the least we can do is go and support her.”

For a moment, CC thought Wade was going to be recalcitrant, but he sighed and muttered “For fuck’s sake” under his breath as he pointed at the shot glass and said, “Give me one of those.”