Page 9 of Horn of Plenty
“Cal?” she breathed, her voice light and airy.
He smiled down at her, and his gaze slid from theMcharm to her face. “Sorry for the delay. I wanted to take a photograph of you to keep in my head,” he whispered against her lips.
Cheesy?
Yes.
Did he care?
Hell no!
He kissed her, and he was home. All those nights spent dreaming about this woman couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Mabel melted into him and hummed the sweet, satisfying sound he’d never tire of hearing. He could do this until the end of time. But they didn’t have that luxury. He pulled back. “You better get back to your room. It’s getting late.”
She started climbing but stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about the farmers’ market. I have a good feeling. And if the interest I’ve seen online translates into actual farmers’ market patrons, it’ll be a great feeling.”
He nodded. The wild thing was—despite his propensity to play out the negatives and prepare for the worst—he had a good feeling, too.
But it was more than that. They were good together. She had to see it.
He shielded his eyes from the sun and observed her slip into her bedroom. Mabel blew him a kiss, then vanished. But he wanted more. His body ached to scale the wall and scoop her into his arms. He started to play out the chances of getting caught sneaking into the shower with her when Abe Garver called his name, and a jolt of panic shot through him.
How the hell was he supposed to explain why he was standing outside Mabel’s window?
Abe waved to him from the main house’s drive and continued toward him.
Did he see them? The guy didn’t look shocked or surprised. Maybe they were in the clear.
“What are you doing, Cal?” Abe asked, then glanced up at Mabel’s window.
He needed to act fast.
He crossed his arms and put on his best broody expression. “I’m looking for you. Where are we on getting the produce loaded?” he asked, sliding into scary farm manager mode. He hated to act like a jerk, but the last thing he needed was for Abe and Kenny to think something was going on. Small-town talk spreads like wildfire, and the focus needed to be on Eat Elverna, not him and Mabel.
Abe straightened up, falling for his cantankerous farmer facade. “Kenny’s working on it now. We’ve got the berries, mushrooms, and the heirloom tomatoes loaded up. Next, we’ll get the scarlet globe radishes and the dragon carrots.” A grin spread across the man’s face. “I’ve got to say, purple carrots are a little weird.”
Cal chuckled. Jamie had always wanted to grow the maroon-hued dragon carrots. Sweeter and spicier than the run-of-the-mill orange ones, they were interesting to look at, but it was all part of the plan to grow a diverse organic crop.
“But they taste damned good,” Abe added.
“They do. Once people try them, I’m sure they’ll come back for more,” he replied, wondering who this optimistic person was. Mabel must be rubbing off on him. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be out to help you in a minute. I need to check something on the laptop first.”
“Sure thing, Cal,” Abe answered before he headed toward the greenhouse.
That was close!
Cal wiped his brow and set off for his cottage. He needed to double-check the crop prices, then feed the cats. There were things to do. Tasks to be completed. He opened the door, then nearly shit a brick.
“Mr. Muldowney?” he stammered, staring at the man seated at his desk and currently staring at his open laptop. Cal checked his watch. He figured the man would have gotten up a little early, but he sure as hell didn’t expect to see him in the cottage. And he hadn’t hidden the shotguns yet. He swallowed hard. “What brings you here this morning?”
“It’s a big day,” the man said, closing the laptop, then glanced over at the hot pink cell phone resting only inches away.
Holy hell! Mabel forgot her phone!
Cal shifted his weight. “Mabel stopped by early this morning to make sure—”
“That you were on track for the farmers’ market?” Elias interrupted.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, feeling like he was fourteen again, that time where Elias had almost caught him, Jamie, and Mabel taking the truck for a joyride.
