Page 43 of The Farmer Has a Wife

Danni grumbled something and reached over to grab hershirt, which was still hanging over the fence. “Here.”

Eleanor hesitated for only a second, looking at Danni in her tank-top, before she accepted the shirt. Danni laid it around her shoulders, the warmth of it enveloping her immediately. It smelled of earth and cedar and hay and so entirely like Danni that Eleanor lost her breath for a moment, closing her eyes, taking in the scent.

When she looked up, Danni was watching her, something flickering behind her dark eyes. Eleanor lost her breath all over again.

The air between them shifted, suddenly thicker, charged with something that Eleanor couldn’t identify, a promise that she had no words for. The hum of the night, the hiss of the breeze, faded to nothing and Eleanor became acutely, exquisitely aware of just how close they were standing, of the way that Danni’s gaze dropped, just for a second, to her lips.

Eleanor knew that she should say something, that she should step back, that she should break this tension.

Instead, she found that she was frozen, trapped in the pull of a riptide that she couldn’t name.

And Danni was the one that reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Eleanor’s face. It was barely anything, the faintest whisper of contact, but Eleanor felt it like a brand.

Which meant that she was the one that leaned in, drawn by this invisible force.

She was the one that brushed her lips against Danni’s until, inevitably, they were kissing.

It was soft and tentative at first, as if neither of them could quite believe that they were doing it. But then, something gave way, and Eleanor found that she was pressing herself closer, her hands curling onto the straps of Danni’s tank as the kiss deepened.

Danni made a small, surprised sound in her throat before responding in kind, her hands finding Eleanor’s waist, grounding her, steadying her in a way that Eleanor hadn’t known she needed.

The moment stretched out, perfect and fragile all at once, into the deepening twilight.

And then…

A distant rumble of thunder broke them apart.

Eleanor stepped back quickly, breath unsteady, heart hammering against her ribs.

Danni looked just as stunned, lips parted, eyes dark in the dim light.

Neither of them spoke.

And then, just as if the moment hadn’t unraveled something in both of them, Eleanor cleared her throat and said, “I should go.”

Danni said nothing, and Eleanor took a step back, then another, then turned and began to walk away.

And nothing was going to be the same again.

Chapter Nineteen

The moment Danni’s lips left Eleanor’s, panic surged through her. What had she just done? More importantly, what had she been thinking? Sam nickered next to her, seemingly in sympathy, as Eleanor walked away.

She hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem, Danni thought.

One minute they’d been talking about family, about loss and disappointment and things that Danni was pretty sure neither of them ever discussed… and then… they’d kissed. Or Eleanor had kissed her. Or she’d kissed Eleanor. She wasn’t exactly sure which.

And then, well, then, Eleanor had turned and walked away. No, not walked, fled. And Danni hadn’t moved, hadn’t called after her, she’d simply watched as Eleanor disappeared into the night, her hair catching the glow of the house lights before she was swallowed up by the shadows.

Then Danni did what any reasonable women who’d just been kissed by Eleanor Brewster, or who had just kissed Eleanor Brewster, would do. She grinned.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself, bringing a hand up to her lips. They still tingled. “Bloody hell, Sam, did you see that?”

Sam nickered again.

Eleanor Brewster had kissed her. And it was good. No, more than good. It was… hot and amazing and incredible and a whole host of words that Danni definitely did not use on an everyday basis.

She let out a quiet, breathless laugh. Then another. Only then did she stop and frown.

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