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Her lips twitched.
Kneeling in front of her, I ran my hands up her thighs. She resisted at first, her body tense, but I pressed my face into her stomach, and she slowly melted around me. I wanted to peel off her clothes and taste her, but I fought the urge to take things further. At that moment, I just needed to be there for her.
My phone’s loud ring shattered the moment. Annoyed, I stood, pulled the phone from my pocket, and checked the caller ID. Unknown number. I pressed ignore and slipped the phone back into my pocket, only for it to ring again.
“Who is it?” Kinsley asked.
“No idea. Hang on.” I answered the call. “Hello?”
“I’m looking for Wyatt Collins. Is that who I’m speaking with?” a female voice inquired through the phone.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Hello, my name is Emily Thompson from Maple Trust Bank. I’m calling about a farm property, 5768 Prairie Road in Cedar Valley, Alberta.”
“Yeah, my dad sold that farm last year.”
“No. A sale was initiated but never finalised. We still have Jake Collins listed as legal owner. Is that your father?”
My heart stopped.
Dad hadn’t sold the farm? It was still ours?
Kinsley’s concerned gaze met mine, her eyes asking silently, What’s going on? I shook my head, as much in confusion as to clear it.
“Mr. Collins?” Emily’s voice pulled me back from my daze.
“What?” My response was barely audible, even to my own ears.
“Is your father Jake Collins?” she repeated, more clearly this time.
“Yes, but I haven’t seen him since he sold the farm, or I thought he did. I’m sorry, I’m confused. He still owns the farm?”
“For now, yes. But the property taxes haven’t been paid in several years, interest has already accumulated, and foreclosure is an imminent possibility.”
“Okay. How much does he owe?”
“The total amount is $17, 659.”
I dragged a hand down my face. Almost eighteen thousand dollars was a steep hill to climb. I’d been doing well lately, but not that well.
“How much time do I have?”
“If you can find your father and pay the taxes by the end of the year, you might avoid a lien against the property. But I wouldn’t put it off any longer than that.”
Kinsley’s expression was full of concern and questions, but at that moment, I was too stunned to provide any answers. The prospect of reclaiming the family farm, intertwined with the confusion about my father’s actions, left me grappling with what to do next.
“Okay, thanks.” I jotted down Emily’s number from the bank and promised to be in touch before hanging up.
My mind raced. Where the hell was my dad?
Turning to Kinsley, who was watching me with an expectant look, I explained, “My dad never sold the farm. The sale fell through.” I relayed the rest of what Emily had told me.
“Wow.” Kinsley looked as shocked as I felt. “What are you going to do?”
“I guess I need to find my dad.”
“Where would you even start?”
