Page 14 of The Farmer
Silence stretches. I try to find words, but how the hell can I tell him I’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday ever since Parker found me in the field?
“Let me guess, no internet? Your laptop lost some juice, and you forgot the charger? Or you’re still researching? It was one fucking article, and you missed a deadline, Page. Again. And unless you want your next assignment to be updating our classifieds for cat-sitter ads, I suggest you open that laptop today and send me the damn article before sunset.”
“I—”
“And don’t even try to make excuses. You had one simple job, and you’re still failing.”
Then, with the sugar-slick poison only he can pull off: “Maybe if you’d had that coffee with me back in March, you’d get more grace.”
I don’t even realize I have the phone on speaker until I feel the shift in the air. Every hair on my body lifts in awareness as I end the call.
That heat.
That pressure.
Like a thunderstorm gathering strength, ready to devour everything in its path.
Parker’s behind me. I don’t even need visual confirmation. The sheer force of his anger radiates off him in waves that make thesummer air feel arctic in comparison. The weight of his presence is thick, coiled, furious.
The last time I felt this kind of tension, thunder cracked the sky in half.
I turn slightly, and his jaw is locked so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t shatter.
He heard everything. And judging by the way he’s staring at the phone like he’s seconds from hunting this man down and shoving it through his skull, I don’t think he’s about to give a polite speech.
I clear my throat. “What would you do if you had a boss like him?”
Parker turns that intense gaze to me and says in a flat voice, “I’d tell him to go fuck himself after wringing his neck.”
I reach for his arm and gently tug until he looks at me. Then I rise on my toes and kiss him, soft and slow.
It works instantly.
His body eases under my touch, the tension melting away as he exhales against my lips.
When I pull back, he searches my face like he’s trying to figure out whether I’m okay. Warmth threads through my chest and body at the way he looks at me. It’s always as though I’m the only girl he sees.
I don’t lie and say I’m okay. Instead, I just wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek to his chest. My God, this man is pure muscle. Even so, he touches me with the kind of gentleness that melts my heart.
We sit down on the two chairs by the porch, still warm from the morning sun. The view stretches endlessly—golden fields, the rustle of the corn in the breeze, distant clucks and moos from the barn. It’s the kind of sound that would have annoyed me months ago.
Now it makes me breathe easier. I feel lighter, as though I went on vacation in the Bahamas and never planned to come back.
“I used to hate silence,” I say, watching a pair of chickens dart across the grass. “It made the nightmares louder.”
He turns his head slightly, listening, and reaches for my hand with his.
“But the first night I slept here, you know, with you in your bed…” I glance down at our interlaced hands, then back up at the fields. “It was the first time I slept without waking up in sweat or jolting awake from a dream. I slept peacefully that first night and last night too.”
“When did your nightmares start?”
Good question. For which I have no answer to. I wondered about it myself. “I have no idea. All I remember is I never sleep for more than five hours at a time. I always, always woke up at midnight, a scream in my throat, sweat soaking my sheets.”
Silence settles over us for a few minutes until Parker raises my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over my knuckles. “You know, I studied college in the city. Four years of hell. I could barely sleep; when I did, it was never peaceful. I was restless, and I had no idea why. After graduation, I came back to tend to my grandparents’ farm, and everything just … quieted.”
Something lights up within me, and I twist my waist to face him. “That’s exactly how I feel right now. I used to take comfort in the noise and the busyness of the city. Now I’m here, I feel like I could breathe freely and cleanly for the first time in years.”
Parker leans forward and presses his lips to my temple, making my breath hitch. “I don’t want to be that guy who forces you to choose, but you should know, this home is yours now, too.”
