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“I thought you always went south after the season?” she asked, looking like she wanted him to stay.
“Not this time. Barbara and Three asked me to help at the ranch. They want to go to Arizona for a month and Five wants to go to Scotland. It seemed like a perfect solution.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was a very big deal. For everyone.
Barbara and Three had a timeshare in Mesa with Elspeth, but they’d never taken full advantage of it because of the farm. And if Five wanted to turn his dream of building a successful distillery into reality, he needed to spend time at their relative’s distillery in Scotland, learning every aspect of the business. And Lucas? He needed a place to stay and a reason to get out of bed each day, and he couldn’t think of a better one than tending to Barbara’s small flock of sheep and goats and the other odd critters she’d rescued.
“That’s wonderful,” she said, and he caught the stars in her eyes before she blinked them away.
“So, you should toss any plans you had of losing me,” he teased. “But now, I really need to go, and you need to get a good night’s sleep, so you can save my bacon and bake treats in the morning.”
“Maybe I can bake in some encouragement and thinking skills while I’m at it.”
“As long as they taste delicious, you can toss in anything you want,” he said, flipping over the lock and liking the way her smile fell. It would be so easy to lean forward and brush his lips across hers. To see if she tasted like the coffee he hated, although he bet he’d love the taste on her. Remember, she’s a chip.
He frowned, yanking open the door and stepping through it before he changed his mind. The further he got from temptation, the better. He’d waited almost ten years to get to this point, he could wait a little longer. Moving too soon with Maggie might penalize him with Barbara and Three and Cal, and those were relationships he cared about and possibly his future, too.
I can wait, he told himself. It helped that he felt Maggie’s eyes on him as he walked away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he hurried toward his truck, grateful that he’d sprung for the upgraded package with the heated seats and steering wheel. He’d thought the heated steering wheel was a foolish waste of technology, but after forgetting his gloves the last few mornings, and now tonight, he saw the wisdom in it.
As soon as the engine turned over, Lucas cranked the seat heat to its highest setting, knowing it would kick in before his heater did. He took a sip of the tea concoction Maggie had made him, and even cold, it made him feel warm and cared for. It was magically delicious. This was his new favorite, and he hoped she could recreate it.
He carefully checked the traffic as he pulled into the intersection and debated how best to spend his drive back to the house. Now that the heavy tourist season was over, traffic around Tumble Falls and the Marketplace had decreased to tolerable. He’d be home in about fifteen minutes. Just enough time to listen to a quick podcast or call your dad about sponsoring the Soup-a-thon, his conscience nagged him.
Lucas didn’t want to ask, but then he remembered what he’d told Maggie. He couldn’t expect her to approach her family for a loan if he didn’t have the balls to ask his dad to support a noble cause and get some publicity for the pick-your-own aspect of their farm. It’s a hella’ lot easier to give advice than to take it.
“Ford, call home,” he said aloud, feeling foolish as he gave instructions to his truck as if it were his staff. Bash had suggested naming the truck, so they’d tried a new one each day on the way to the stadium. Benson, Hazel, Alice, Charles, Geoffrey, and Alfred, but none of them felt right. I gotta do better than Ford, he thought as the phone rang through the speakers.
“Rodriguez farm.” His dad’s voice filled the cabin.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Lucas! You’re calling so late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” And here we go, he thought, gripping the wheel tighter.
“Dad, it’s a little after eight. I’m fine.” Lucas chuckled, hoping his dad would lighten up. “How are you? Where’s Mom?” He didn’t need to talk to his mom. They texted often, but calls were always easier if his mom was also on the line. She tempered his dad, so his words weren’t as cutting. They spoke for a few minutes. Lucas focused his questions on the farm and his dad was concerned about the team. Neither of them wanting to talk about the other’s subject but giving enough information not to be rude. “Speaking of the team—”
“You finally figured out a way to protect your QB?”
“No, but we’re working on it.”
“Good. If this keeps up, your line’s going to be arrested for assault and battery.”
“We’re not the ones hitting him, Dad.”
“But you’re letting the defense through. The bunch of you are like a human sieve.”
Lucas blew out his breath and counted to ten. “So, the Tetons are sponsoring the winter Soup-a-thon in Cascade City, and I volunteered to help. I thought you’d want in on it. It would be great PR for the berry fields and the orchard.”
“Send me the information, and I’ll share it with your brother, but you don’t need to worry about the farm. You only need to worry about football and winning the next game.”
“Did you reach out to Jack Brewster about his location?” Lucas knew Lilliana was eager for the restaurant, just like he was. They’d texted menu dishes back and forth, and he’d told her he had his eye on the perfect pastry chef. In a few short years, he, Lilliana, and Maggie, assuming she didn’t have her own bakery, would dominate the restaurant scene. He didn’t know how dating Maggie would factor in, or his career, but he knew they’d make a winning team.
“Lucas, it’s not your concern,” his dad said, sounding impatient.
“But it is, Dad. The farm is just as much a part of me as it is JJ. And I brought the restaurant idea and the location to you. I have a right to know.”
“Do you?” The older man chuckled. “You don’t need to worry. The farm is doing well, and your brother and I have everything under control. I’ll let you know when you need to know,” he said, with an edge of finality in his words.
“Okay. I just want to help,” Lucas said, unable to drop the conversation.
“Well, if you want to help”—Lucas sat up straight—“we need to reroof the small equipment shed by the orchard and your brother’s truck needs new tires. You could transfer some money into the farm account.”
