It's on the tip of my tongue to ask why she’s hiding out on a farm.
I’ve almost asked her a million times what really brought her here. I get that she and Melissa were great friends, and I know she was getting over a breakup, but she’s never told me the details of why she left her job in Austin. When it came up the other night, she mumbled that she worked for a politician. That sure as hell got my attention, but she quickly changed the subject.
I didn’t pry, even though I wanted to. Maybe it was the expression on her face that stopped me because I got the impression she has a lot of ghosts wrapped up behind door number one. So I didn’t push. God knows the shit going on here has been tough enough. I don’t need to cross any more boundaries with her. Not if I want to keep things casual.
Nothing about this is casual.
Warring emotions rage in my chest as I watch her baby-talk to Stella and Stanley, who bounce around, excited by her attention.
She motions toward them. “Adopting these two is what gave me the idea for the farmers’ event. I thought we could do a petting zoo, and use it to promote our products. Business around here dies in the winter, but since the temperature is often so mild, it seemed silly that no one hosts any events to maintain interest in the local farming.”
“That was your idea?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you hate it?”
“Not at all. I think it’s a great idea. I just wish prepping for it wasn’t such a time suck.” I still have to finish making that pen for the animals.
She bites that bottom lip. “Sorry. I thought I was helping.”
Lifting my hand to her chin, I tilt her face up. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. In fact, getting people to see our farm might kind of serve as an open house. If people like what they see, then maybe someone will want to buy it.”
A flash of emotion crosses her face, but just like that, it’s gone.
“Right.” She pulls away, and immediately, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. But then she gives me an understanding smile, almost like she’s trying to make me feel better. She clears her throat. “I, uh, finished the new labels for Mel’s bath products. Would you like to see them?”
I reach over and pull her to me, needing that connection. “Definitely,” I mumble as I kiss her forehead.
Once we’re in the house, I put Izzy in her walker as Kat lays out several glossy prints on her small desk.
“Kat, these are great.” I pick them up one by one to study. I run my fingers over the logo. The words Lovelace Lavender wrap around the image of a small farm house. It’s rustic but romantic. She has labels for different lotions and perfumes, each sporting the same beautiful design. “You did this?”
“Yup.”
“What did this stuff look like before?”
Her lips twist as she looks around her room. She reaches for a little white bottle with a handwritten label.
I stare at her, completely confused how this talented girl is working for me on a farm. “Katherine.” Her back straightens, and she looks at me questioningly. “Did you come up with the name too? Lovelace Lavender?”
She nods slowly, looking confused. “It’s the name of the farm.”
I laugh. “The name of the farm is Lovelace Farm.”
“So?”
“So you took the name of the farm and rebranded the products.”
She still looks confused. “Okay?”
“You took handwritten labels, developed a branding identity, designed the logo, and basically came up with a commercially viable product line.”
She shrugs. “I guess.”
Why does she not appreciate how much she’s done here? “Can I ask how much Mel paid you for this?”
Her eyebrows knot. “Nothing. I did it for fun. I wanted to help her keep the farm from going bankrupt.”
My MFA taught me one thing. Design—good design—isn’t cheap. And I have no idea how to compensate this girl for her efforts.
I rub my chin as I consider how I can show her my gratitude. “What else do we need to do for the farmers’ event?”
Her eyes brighten. “I have to finish packaging the soaps and lotions. And we need to finish the animal pen. Mr. Mac is bringing over some tables so the different farms can set up their products.”
I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before I lean down to bite her earlobe. She shivers when I whisper in her ear, “You’re so talented.”
Her slender arms wrap around me before she nestles her body to mine and sighs against my chest. And an ache in the deepest part of me makes me wish I didn’t have to let her go.
37
Katherine
The diner is full, my orders are up, but all I can focus on is that ruggedly beautiful man in my booth who’s snuggling a baby to his chest.
And I’m not the only one staring. My boss Carol stands next to me fanning herself. “Honey,” she whispers, “if I were twenty years younger…”
“What about George?” I laugh.
“Eh.” She waves her hand. “Technicalities.”