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“Eh, yeah, but you guys like me like that. Get one of those sauces on the stove for me?” Evan bats his eyelashes like he’s some damsel in distress rather than a chef with an ego the size of Texas.
“Cook it yourself, I know Dad came in and did lunch.” There’s no secret when I see Dad’s famous method of spreading cheese as evidence on all the pizzas going out of the kitchen.
Evan’s dough is also thinner, and he uses basil on all his crusts. Dad might think we all don’t realize he’s still sneaking into the kitchen half the days of the week, and no one will say a thing, but we’re not morons.
“Don’t tell him you know. I let him do Mondays because the regulars love his margherita and salami pies.” My brother uncaps one of the jars and inhales the scent deeply.
“And so you get to fuck around with recipes like you used to with muddies in Mom’s garden.” I raise my eyebrows because he is not the saint he labels himself to be.
Evan shrugs. “You caught me. Patrick wanted to see you before you left.”
Grumbling, I head for the back suite of offices behind the kitchen. My brother Patrick is the accountant and bookkeeper for the entire operation, while Alana handles the marketing when she isn’t at her new local goods shop down the street. Together, they’re a dynamo that keeps this place relevant and operational.
I want to get back to the farm as soon as possible. I have more tomatoes to harvest and need to check on the onions that look to be coming in, but if Patrick needs me, I won’t sulk off without seeing him.
“What is this, an ambush?”
I don’t like surprises, and when I find my brother and sister in his office with looks on their faces like I’m about to be ganged up on, my scowl causes even deeper frown lines than normal.
Alana is sitting on Patty’s desk, assessing me with some look I can’t read. It would be unwise not to be scared of my little sister; I don’t know how Warren, her husband and our childhood best friend, puts up with her. Probably because he melts like a puppy wherever she is concerned.
“Dad said you told him there was some kind of tampering in the fields?” Patrick starts, a grave expression on his face.
If there is one thing about my younger brother, it’s that he is the serious one of the bunch. I might be the growly, intimidating one, but Patrick is the intellectual, committed sibling of all of us. He wants to get to the facts, suss out a situation, and come up with a solution.
“He didn’t need to go tattling to you two. It’s just an animal or something. Four half-rows of tomatoes were messed up, it won’t affect our harvest too much. With the extra land from the sale of Cassandra’s property, we have more than enough to keep the restaurant and the sauce business comfortable.”
“That’s not why I’m bringing this up and you know it.” My brother’s tone edges on paranoid.
“We’ve just had too many coincidental incidents in the past two years to take things lightly.” Alana is more reassuring and a little more grounded.
“Calm down, it’s probably just an animal.” But even I’m not sure if I dig deep.
“Did you check the security footage?” he questions.
Fuck. I meant to, but then …
Gabrielle.
This is why I don’t get involved with anyone, but she is too tempting. It had been twelve years coming. We’re not even anything to each other. The woman actively wants to forget I exist, and I am already dropping too many balls.
“I forgot.” The monosyllabic answer doesn’t give away that I didn’t remember to call my security company because I was too busy fucking Gabrielle Murphy and then thinking of nothing but her for days after.
“You forgot? About something that has to do with the farm? I’m sorry, are you ill?” Alana presses a hand to my forehead and I shake it off in annoyance.
“I’ve just been busy, is all. I’ll get to it today. They were probably in a blind spot anyway, so I’ll call to put in a camera there.”
Patrick blows out a frustrated breath. “You have to keep on top of this stuff, Liam. With everything we’ve gone through …”
His wife and baby are at home, and he is just spooked. That’s how I can let go of him accusing me of not holding up my responsibilities to our family and business. That doesn’t mean my fists don’t tighten with pissed-off energy.
“I get it, okay? I’ll do it today. Anything else you need to dole out to me, boss, or can I go?” I hate being spoken to like a child, especially by my younger siblings.
Alana gives me a sympathetic smile. “We’re just being cautious, you know that.”
“I do.” I nod, itching to get back outside and away from the bustle of our little downtown.
It’s like my body craves solitude and the air of the fields. Once Patrick relents, I hug my sister and hop back in my truck, speeding for the farm.
