Page 86 of Strike Zone

“There will be dirt and bugs. You’ll probably sweat.”

“I’m becoming a fan of the dirt,” she says, biting her lip and eyeing my dirty T-shirt. We’re both in desperate need of a shower after spending the night in the barn.

“Y’all flirt weird,” Colt says, before walking out the door. He’s not the first person to say that.

Wren shakes her head at Colt and goes back to eating her sandwich. “Were you flirting with me? Trying to turn me on about getting dirty?”

She ignores my questioning and eats the last bite of her sandwich. “If I was flirting with you, you wouldn’t have to ask me.” She takes our plates to the sink, rinsing them, and placing them in the dishwasher. “You would know.”

I push away from the table and lean back in my chair. “I would, huh?”

“Yep.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Give me an example.”

“That’s the thing. I’m not really a flirty person. I prefer the direct approach.” She says this as if it’s a bad thing.

“Give me an example.”

Wren walks up to me and stands between my legs. I slide my hands up her thighs just under the hem of her shorts. I can’t get enough of her wearing these damn things. She traces a finger up the veins in my arms.

“I’m going to go take a shower. I want you to join me.” She starts to back away, but I pull her against me. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

I want to tell her that I like her direct. I like her mean. I like her bossy. I just like her. Plain and simple. She isn’t ready to hear all of this because for some reason she has it in her head that she is too much. That she’s cold and unlovable.

Which is odd because I find her to be the exact opposite of everything she thinks of herself.

Instead I say, “First one naked is the first one to orgasm.” I slap her ass. She yelps then takes off upstairs.

“We made good progress today.” Ford takes a sip of his beer.

We’re all sitting out back around the fire pit roasting marshmallows and making s’mores. Mason has his guitar out and is picking at the strings.

“I won my bet,” Dad says, holding up his beer.

Wren giggles beside me. “He’s never going to stop talking about that is he?”

“Probably not.” I pull my marshmallow from the fire and scrape it off the stick between two graham crackers. I take a bite and hot marshmallow strings all over my mouth.

“You’re a mess.” Wren swipes her thumb across my lips.

She’s mentioned more than once that some people find her attention to detail frustrating to deal with. They clearly haven’t had her full attention on them. When I’m the one she is fixated on, I feel like a king. “It’s all over your mustache too. Another reason to shave it off.” She licks the sticky, white residue off her thumb.

“You weren’t complaining about my mustache in the shower earlier. In fact, I’m pretty sure you said it felt good against your—” She slaps a hand over my mouth.

“You’ve made your point,” she says, cutting me off. I grin at her.

“When are you going to hire more help?” Colt asks Ford, grabbing my attention. I know we need more hands on deck, but labor isn’t free. Especially if it’s something more permanent.

“I don’t know. We may have to do without it this time.” Ford takes a long sip of his beer. This is taking a toll on him. His brow is wrinkled with worry.

“You should check with the high school. See if there are any kids looking for volunteer hours. They can help with parking, crowd control, and the petting zoo area. The rest of you can handle ticket and product sales.”

“That’s a great idea, Wren,” Mom says, beaming at my girl. “I’ll get in touch with Donna tomorrow.” Donna is the principal at the local high school.

I put my arm around Wren and kiss her on the side of her face.

Ford, Mason, and Colt discuss more logistics of the spring and summer harvest. I want to give my opinion and offer help, but it doesn’t matter since I won’t be here. I’ll be living miles away or on the road in some hotel.

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