Page 42 of Make it Real
“Oh. It’s been…good.”
His sharp eyes seemed to soften over my hesitation. “That’s not a ringing endorsement. Something troubling you?”
“Well…” I wasn’t quite sure how to answer, but Clint had such a warm, benevolent way about him, I didn’t want to blow off his question. “My grandma is supposed to move next month. A big retirement kind of move. It’s hard to imagine not having her around, but she’s sort of put it on hold. I don’t know how to encourage her without feeling like I’m forcing her.”
I hadn’t expected her to start packing again the minute I started dating Jed, but so far, she’d put off all my offers to help. She hadn’t even mentioned the move again, which only made me antsier to get her in gear.
“Growing pains are bittersweet,” he said. “We want to move on, but we don’t want to leave anyone behind. We can get caught swimming upstream, afraid to let go because we can’t see what’s around the bend.”
He tilted his head down and narrowed his eyes at me with such a meaningful look, I saw where Jed had got ninety percent of his DNA. Clint’s eyes were blue, but they were remarkably similar to my fake boyfriend’s.
“But just between you and me, nobody else can let go for you.”
“I know. I just want her to go be happy with her friends.” I’d said it so many times, it felt like a mantra,Go be happy, Go be happy. “She’s given me so much, it’s time for her to relax and not worry about me.”
He laughed, scraping a hand down his silver stubble. “I’ll tell you right now, that’ll never happen. We always worry about the ones we love. She’ll be just as worried about you wherever she moves to as she is here, I guarantee it. I never worried about my kids less when they were in Austin or Georgetown or Afghanistan.”
The thought of Jed in Afghanistan shuddered through me. I thanked the good Lord he’d come home safe.
“I’m just a farmer, I’m not an expert on these things,” Clint said. “But I think it’s normal to have mixed feelings about good things. That includes you, too.”
I wasn’t sure how he’d seen my uncertainty, since I didn’t like to see it myself. “I think I’ve been feeling like if I’m not completely happy about her move, I’m being selfish.”
I wanted her to move, make no mistake. But that didn’t mean I never wandered through the house missing her in advance as I thought how different it would be with her gone, what it would be like when she was no longer a room away. But Clint was right—I could feel all those jumbled emotions and still know her move would be the best for both of us.
“I don’t know you that well, Callie, but I’ve yet to see a selfish act from you.”
I grinned. “I’m saving up all my bad traits for when you know me a lot better.”
He chuckled over my little joke. “I’ll be waiting.”
Jed walked in the front door and—okay, wow. Everyday, rumpled Jed proved pretty delicious, but head-to-toe dirty, T-shirt clinging to him from sweat, mildly dangerous-looking Jed? Devastating.
My breath checked out as he stomped his work boots on the mat outside before crossing the room to us. He grinned, his white teeth shining on his dusty face, and my poor heart did cartwheels. Girls who swooned over men in suits could have them—give me this dirty farmer any day.
“Callie Lou,” he said in that cozy way that made my insides turn to goo. “What brings you here today?”
“I…” Couldn’t really remember, what with my eyes devouring him and begging for more. What, Callie? What brought you to his dad’s house, giving you this front-row view of his glorious form?Find words, brain.
His grin tilted to the side, and I loved the sight, but that smirk snapped me out of my dumbfounded staring. I cleared my throat like a normal person and gestured at the casserole dish behind me. “I made a cobbler. So I brought it here. For you. To eat.”
I should have been more specific when I asked my brain for words. From the way he watched me, my fumbling response amused him to pieces.
Shaking off the nonsense, I tried again.
“I mean, I was baking this morning, and I wanted to bring one of the cobblers to you. This one’s blackberry, I hope you like those. I also made a peach one, but I figured bringing a peach cobbler to a peach farmer would be too meta, so I saved it for me.”
“I love blackberries, thank you. I can’t wait to dig into this.” He eyed the cobbler appreciatively, but then his gaze snapped back to me. “Wait, where’d you get the peaches for your cobbler? Are you cheating on me with a competitor’s peaches?”
He shook his head in pretend disappointment, and his teasing made my stomach flip. Turned out I liked dirty farmers and jokesters. Learned something about myself every day.
“I stopped by your market here yesterday and got a couple of pounds. I’m no traitor.”
I’d waited in line thirty minutes, but it’d been worth it. I’d already eaten two and could safely say the next time someone asked me what was one food I could eat for the rest of my life, I’d have my answer.
“Darlin’, you ever want peaches, you come straight to me. I’ll pick you a whole bushel of the most delicious fruit you ever tasted.”
The mischievous look in his eyes proved impossible to resist. I needed to give him a little of his sass back. “A bushel sounds like too much. Maybe I’ll just take a peck.”
