Page 37 of Fall Over You

The morning is cool and damp, but warmth flows through me. He’s got to stop using that stupid name. “My hair’s not red anymore.”

Tyler’s eyes peek from under the bill of his ballcap, and it makes my stomach drop. “Blonde suits you just fine too.”

Everything stops for me because I’m sorry, what’s going on here? Did Tyler just compliment me? Why does he keep calling me that? Is he trying to flirt? How dare my potential future husband try to flirt with me.

“I brought your part. What happened to it, though?” Tyler puts a box on the ground next to me and bends to look at what I’m working on.

“Blade stopped spinning. Hard to mow if the mower don’t move. My pasture’s so dang high that I’m almost to the point of accepting that I’m a butterfly sanctuary.”

T-Bone’s on her back now, paws in the air and tongue lolling out while Ellie pets her belly.

“Ellie here loves butterflies,” Tyler says. “Almost as much as other people’s doggies.”

About to be her doggie soon if we go through with all this.

“Let me get cleaned up and we can head up to the house and get something to eat. Ellie, do you like banana bread as much as your daddy does?” I stand and dust my hands on my pants, walking toward the house.

“What’s banana bread?” she asks, and I drop my jaw at Tyler.

“You been sneaking banana bread without your girl?”

“We watch sugar,” he says, affronted.

“Everybody needs a treat now and then.” I shoot him a smile over my shoulder until T-Bone’s at my side, nuzzling my hand. “Oh, I said the T word, didn’t I? I’ll get you one, you turkey buzzard.”

Tyler jogs to his truck, slightly off our path, returning with a small box in his hand. He extends it my way. “Brought some, froze the rest.”

“A pink box and everything,” I say. I bend so Ellie can help me open the box, revealing some blueberry muffins. “Homemade? Did you help your daddy make these?”

She nods fervently, pointing to the one that looks like a mouse got it. “I tasted that one,” she admits.

“Well, you have to sample your goods. Otherwise, you don’t know if it’s worth eating.”

“Ellie,” Tyler scolds.

“It’s alright. Nothing wrong with quality control.” Ellie’s hand slips into mine as we walk toward the farm house. “You know what I love to taste test? My apple pie after it’s got all the sugar on the apples.”

We’re just finishing up our banana bread and blueberry muffins when Tyler gives me a sidelong glance. “You want to give me a tour of the place? Show me what you’re needing done?”

I rise from the table. “Sure thing. Let’s head out to the guest house.”

Ellie almost trips over herself running for the door, eager to get back to T-Bone.

Tyler stops me in the doorway, fingertips brushing my lower back. For people who have been in full-on orgies, it’s interesting that tiny touches like these are becoming equally if not more thrilling. “Hey, do you think they can play alone for a while? Like, your dog won’t hurt Ellie?”

I’d be insulted that he’s so suspicious of T-Bone, but I get it. He’s looking out for Ellie’s safety. I’m more curious why he wants us to be alone. I’d be excited at the prospect if he didn’t seem so worked up, and not in the fun way.

“I kinda want to talk in private. Until we’re sure about things. I don’t want Ellie to get confused.”

Ah. Good enough reason to be nervous.

“Yeah, of course.” I bend to grab T-Bone’s favorite rope from a basket by the door. “She’s already in hog heaven, and this thing will keep them busy for a while. We’ll all walk up to the cottage. I’ll give you the tour and we can watch them from the porch while we talk.”

Tyler seems comforted by that, his body relaxing. “Thanks.”

As the cottage comes into view, Ellie squeals. “Miss Becca, you have two houses?”

“Well, not really. That one’s not for me. It’s for guests.”