Page 24 of Anything for You
“Virginia.”
“Ooh, ‘Virginia is for lovers,’ isn’t that the state motto? I’ve always wanted to go there.” I popped another sun-warmed berry into my mouth.Goodness.I’d eaten berries from the bush before, but these tasted spectacularly good.
“Never visited DC?” he asked.
“Nah. I haven’t traveled much. I’m sure that seems weird for someone who I assume has been a lot of places.”
My cheeks pinked. I didn’t often feel like a bumpkin anymore. I’d lived some life. Heck, I had a college degree now. But I’d only taken a few trips in my life, and compared to the places this man had been, my life felt so small.
“I went a lot of places on road trips as a kid. Saw Gettysburg and the Liberty Bell. Lots of Civil War battlefields because my dad was a history buff. Basic training in Missouri, stationed in a few places before North Carolina for quite a while. And then deployments.” He exhaled, shoulders rising and falling. “It’s not all that glamorous.”
I chuckled. “Deployments aren’t glamorous? You don’t say.”
He slid his eyes to mine, but right as he opened his mouth, a loud buzzing sound startled us both. We turned toward the now obnoxiously loud whir of an engine, and through the trees past the berry brambles, I saw the culprits.
Dorian muttered something under his breath, eyes glued on the space where people on dirt bikes whooped and hollered as they rode what must’ve been a track.
“I’m guessing that’s not your property?”
He shook his head, clearly annoyed.
Our peaceful chat and the pleasant morning evaporated like so much smoke thanks to the idiots on crotch rockets.Thanks, dummies.
“I think I’ve got enough berries,” I said, holding my full bowl.
He scowled toward the trees, then nodded. “Let’s go.”
Once we walked a few minutes down the path that brought us to the berries, the engine sounds of the bikes dissipated, and his mood eased a touch.
“Did you grow up on a farm? Is that how you ended up here?” I wondered out loud, a breeze rustling through the scrub oak on either side of the trail. Every part of this place was beautiful. It had manicured and neat sections like the rows of pines that made up the Christmas tree farm part, and then there were these wild parts that felt a little closer to their owner.
“No. Average suburbia for me. But after I got out and planned to move here, I read about this place. It was for sale, and I became a little obsessed with it.”
A chuckle tripped out of me. “Really? Obsessed with a tree farm?”
He let out a little huff. “Pretty weird, right?”
Why did his response make me borderline giddy? “I mean, so far, all I’ve seen points to total weirdo.”
He gave me a side-eye, and I burst out laughing, pressing my free hand to my heart. “Said with love because you’re standing next to a someone who embraces she is also a total weirdo. So hey, we make a good pair.”
I bit my lip, a sense of shyness nudging my shoulders and heating my cheeks. He was quiet, not surprisingly, untilwe emerged from the little trail and out into the driveway our houses shared.
Or, his house, and my rented cabin.
“You think we’re a good pair?” he asked, a little low and like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel before speaking.
“Of course I do. That’s why I’m here,” I said, cheery and bright and not letting on all the ways I thought that might be the case. Signature weirdo move, and he wasn’t ready for it.
A soft, shy smile tugged at his eyes and lips, and I wished his beard were a touch shorter so I could enjoy the expression on his face. But then, that wouldn’t help with the buzzing sensation that’d been twirling around like a drunken bee in my belly the entire time we’d been together this morning.
“Thanks for showing me the blackberry patch. They’re delicious.” I popped one more into my mouth for emphasis.
“Thanks for letting me.”
Our eyes met, and the chirp of crickets and low hum from an engine somewhere out there dimmed. The rustle in the trees, the slow movement of lazy butterflies… they all stopped.
His gaze traced my face with what my brain read as tenderness. My heart flipped.
