Discovering Harmony (Wishing Well, Texas #3)

There was no way anything real could happen between us, not with the things we wanted out of life being at such odds. No compromise in the world would be able to close the Grand Canyon that separated our desires…at least when it came to things like family, marriage and kids. I was pretty sure that our physical desires were perfectly in sync.

We sat in silence as she finished off over seventy percent of the food I’d packed for lunch. Well, not complete silence. She was making moaning sounds of appreciation that had me thinking all kinds of thoughts about other times she’d make those sounds. If I stayed and listened to her much longer, my body’s reaction was going to be very difficult to hide…and that was before she started sucking her fingers to get every last morsel of food off of them.

By the time she finished her left hand, I knew that I was going to need either a tent or a miracle because there was no way I could stand up and not burst through the zipper of my now all-too-tight jeans.

“Oh my gosh!” She leaned back against the newly secured porch. “That was the best lunch I’ve ever had. Thank you so much.”

“PB&J, grapes, and Pringles is the best lunch you’ve ever had? I’ve had Dolly Briggs’ famous fried chicken, so I seriously doubt that’s true.”

Dolly Briggs’ fried chicken was world famous. Well, at least Clover County famous. She only made it on special occasions, like her husband’s birthday, and if you were lucky enough to score an invitation to the Briggs’ house for those occasions, it was the equivalent of winning the lottery.

“Okay, you make a good point. Maybe my mama’s chicken beats it…but it’s a close race. You, sir, make a mean peanut butter and jelly. And just so there’s no confusion,” she leaned closer, her green eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint in her eye that made my heart pound like a hammer, “that was a compliment.”

I knew she was teasing me, but for some ridiculous reason, I felt totally undeserved pride swell in my chest. Over a fucking sarcastic compliment about a sandwich. I seriously needed to get a grip.

“You were hungry, that’s all, Princess.”

“I was hungry,” she confirmed, sitting back and leaning against the new wooden post I’d put up this morning. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve worked that hard.”

“How is that possible?” I shook my head slowly. “You grew up on one of the busiest farms in Clover County.”

Briggs Farms had employed half of Wishing Well at one point or another. They were one of the highest grossing agricultural farms in all of Texas. Their crops included grain, corn, and hay. They also raised Angora goats for their mohair.

I’d grown up on a piece of land one fifth of the size of the Briggs’ property and all we’d raised was chickens, but even on our piece of land, there had always been work to do.

“Yeah, I did. And like I said, I had eight older brothers. So I guess I really do live up to what you think of me.”

“What?” My brow wrinkled. I had no idea how having eight brothers had anything to do with me thinking that she was the hottest girl not just in Clover County, but hell of the entire U.S. of A.

Her tone and body language were both defensive red zone as she sat up straighter. “Princess. The oh-so-not-clever nickname you insist on calling me. I guess me not being a real farm-girl just reinforces all of the reasons for calling me that.”

Lack of hard labor or work experience had jack shit to do with why I called her Princess. I’d never told anyone why I called her that. I hated that she thought that was what I thought of her…but again she was on a need-to-know basis and my reason for giving her that nickname was definitely something she did not need to know. It was probably better if that’s exactly what she thought.

A wistful look fluttered across her beautiful features as she looked out over the overgrown pasture. “The most farm-related duties I ever had consisted of brushing Buttermilk and cleaning her stall.”

“I remember Buttermilk.”

Mainly, I remembered watching Harmony ride her mare. One time in particular hadn’t only stolen my breath away, it had pulled the rug out from under me, flipped my world upside down and turned me inside out.

The summer before her senior year of high school I’d been down at the river with my brothers fishing, and she’d galloped across the bridge wearing cutoff jean shorts, a white V-neck shirt, and cowboy boots. Her long, dark hair was flowing behind her and she had a smile wider than the sky. She’d made my world stop spinning. If I hadn’t already had feelings for her, I would’ve fallen hard that day. Since I already did, I just fell further under her spell.

“She was the best.” Her gaze was still focused out over the pasture. “I still miss her.”

If memory served, Buttermilk had fallen ill when Harmony was away at college. I wasn’t clear on all the details, but I did remember that whatever her ailment, it had hit her fast and hard and she’d passed quickly.

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