Page 121 of The Best Kind of Bad

“I’m going to need a farm manager, and Jerry Lind said he was busy.”

There’s a heartrending pause, and then he gives me a slow, lopsided smile that’s like the sunrise. “You wouldn’t trust Jerry Lind to pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel.”

I laugh. “You’re damn right I wouldn’t. I need somebody competent. Somebody that knows their way around bees.”

“You keep talking about these bees.”

“I keep talking aboutourbees.”

He gives me a funny look. “What are you talking about, Marnie? Aren’t you selling?”

“Not unless somebody gives me a reason to.” I fiddle with the edge of my shirt. It’s his shirt, actually. I found it in one of the dressers. It’s big and soft with the wordsSilver Bend Footballemblazoned on the front. I didn’t ask if I could borrow it. I just assumed he wouldn’t mind. But now, sitting here in a stolen shirt, I start to wonder if I’ve made too many assumptions about the two of us. It’s too late now. I’ve started this thing. I need to finish it—like ripping off a band-aid. Words burst out of me in a desperate rush. “I want to stay with you. I want to grow flowers and make honey.”

What a childish declaration. My cheeks heat up and I force myself to meet his gaze. He’s got a little frown on his face.

Not the reaction I was going for.

“But what was that deed on the counter?”

“You saw that?”

He winces. “I didn’t open it, but it’s labeled. Deed of sale.”

“That’s for my house in Lincoln.” I hesitate, feeling unsure. I wish I could organize my thoughts and start over. “This all sounded a lot better in my head. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you, though. And I know we’d still need to grow standard crops, but I want to see what happens with all your side projects. I didn’t really have any interest in agriculture until I met you and now it’s gotten under my skin. But if you’re not part of it, I’m out, too. I don’t want to work with anyone else. You’re young, so maybe you want freedom to explore other options, but if that’s the case, I’d rather know now.”

I’m rambling, words spilling out of me like maybe one of them will fix all the words that came before. Fear grows in my heart. Have I misjudged the situation? Am I taking a young man with the world ahead of him and clipping his wings?

Maybe he sees that fear in my eyes, because without warning, his hand slides behind my neck and he tugs me to him.

His kiss is fierce and deep.

80.

Dusty

It’s hard to process. Hard to adjust. I was a man standing at the gallows and she just cut me loose. But she’s mistaken my shock for reluctance.

I kiss her because I’m not good with words. And I want to tell her that she’s already a part of me. No matter where she goes, whether I’m there or not, she’s got a piece of me.

I press my lips into hers and a muted whimper sounds in her throat. A protective feeling surges through me. It’s hard to believe thatshewasn’t sure if I’d want her, when she is better than the air I breathe. I brace my hands on her hips and drag her onto my lap.

She breaks the kiss, pulling back to look up at my face. “Is that a yes?”

My hands cup her ass and a low chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Yes, sweet girl.Fuckyes. From here to the end of time,yes.”

Her eyes close in relief and she leans forward, her lips brushing my ear. “Show me.”

I groan. “I should take a shower first.”

“We can do that together after you fuck me. I like the taste of the salt on your skin.” She punctuates that statement by flicking her tongue along my neck.

“Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want.” Pinning her hips to mine, I push up onto my feet and carry her to the bedroom.

She looks up with heat in her eyes as I lay her down on the bed. Wrapping my hands around her soft thighs, I drag her ass to the edge of the bed. “Take off your shirt.”

She immediately complies, pulling it over her head and throwing it at my face. Her scent fills my nose. Sweet. Clean. I toss the shirt aside and suck in a breath. No bra. My gaze wanders across her gorgeous body. My hand slides along her tummy, covering her breast. I squeeze it, pinching her nipples, before sliding my hand between her breasts. I can feel her heart racing. Its rhythm must match mine. My hand slides back down and my fingers hook over the waist of her shorts. I reveal that inked daisy, the clue the universe was trying to give us.

We belong together. It’s stamped on our bodies.

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