Page 1 of Kiss and Tell

ChapterOne

“What a place!” Joey Moretti did a complete three-sixty, spinning around to take in the gorgeous views surrounding him. The large wooden sign with the colorful words Stormy Weather Farm—the t’s instormyandweathershaped like lightning strikes—told them they had arrived at their destination.

He and his cohost Miles Williams had just made the three-and-a-half-hour drive from Philadelphia to Gracemont in Northern Virginia, as they prepared to start filming a new episode of their show. He could hardly believe that he and Miles were already hard at work on their third season ofManPower.

When he’d first landed the gig hosting a cable show, Joey had no ideaManPowerwould become so popular. These days, it was rare that he could go out in public without being recognized by people. Just yesterday, his sister Layla had texted him a picture of herself standing in the grocery store checkout line, posing with a copy of a home improvement magazine featuring him and Miles on the cover.

Along with the selfie, she’d included a one-word text.

Squeeeeeeee!!!!

Joey felt like he’d stepped back into the past as he took in the giant white farmhouse with large navy-blue shutters, surrounded by countless well-kept outbuildings, including an honest-to-God red barn. The place was storybook perfect, with rolling hills, a vibrant view of leaves currently in the height of changing colors, and at least fifteen different-size pumpkins adorning the house’s wraparound porch, intermingled with bright yellow mums.

In addition to this farmhouse, there were two other homes situated on Stormy Weather Farm’s two-hundred-plus acres, as well as several businesses—Rain or Shine Brewery, Lightning in a Bottle Winery, and some rental cabins.

“Shit, man. That was some climb. I wasn’t sure the car was going to make it,” Miles muttered. “We’re not in Philly anymore, Toto.”

Joey chuckled, though he agreed the climb had been white-knuckle steep. The rest of theManPowercrew would be arriving tomorrow, but he and Miles had made plans to arrive a day early to meet Levi Storm and his brewmaster, Lou, this afternoon for a tour of Stormy Weather Farm.

Joey had done quite a bit of research on the farm in preparation for the show. The Storm family had settled here four generations ago, and they’d created an amazing legacy in the decades since.

After the tour, Levi, the oldest of the latest generation of Storms, had promised them a home-cooked dinner and a chance to meet the rest of his siblings and cousins. Joey and Levi had spoken on the phone a few times in preparation for the filming, and the man had mentioned the fact he had six brothers. Joey, who was one of five siblings, felt a kinship with Levi instantly. It was apparent the man was as close to his family as Joey was to his own, and the branches on the Storm family tree were as weighted down by countless relatives as the Moretti’s.

Levi reminded Joey a lot of his older brother, Tony—confident and take-charge. The kind of guy who never met a stranger. For most of Tony’s adult life, the family had called him the mayor because the dude seriously seemed to know every single person in Philadelphia. He suspected the same was likely true of Levi, though to be fair, the population of Gracemont probably didn’t reach four digits, while Philadelphia boasted of close to two million inhabitants.

“Never gave much thought to the farming lifestyle but, damn, Miles, imagine waking up here every morning of your life.” Joey stared into the distance, amazed by just how many colors Mother Nature had in her palette. The mountain was awash in golden and neon yellows, vibrant reds and bright purples, deep oranges, and at least three different shades of green.

“No thanks,” Miles growled.

Joey rolled his eyes, amused by the response though not surprised. Miles was taking in the same view he was, but his best friend was clearly much less impressed, especially when he pulled out his phone to check his text messages.

“Reception sucks up here,” he muttered. A city boy from the word go, Miles viewed the mountains and woods and, well, nature in general as space simply waiting to be “civilized” with houses, stores, restaurants, and a fucking Starbucks on every corner.

Miles had grown up in the Ridgewood section of Queens, his playgrounds made of concrete. Joey had spent his childhood in two large cities as well—Philadelphia and, for a time, Baltimore. However, his family had always resided in the suburbs, so he had a working knowledge of how to mow grass, unlike Miles.

When he was little, Joey helped Nonna and Aunt Berta plant seeds in the raised-bed gardens in their backyards every summer. He’d loved watching the tomatoes grow big and turn red, enjoyed searching the sprawling vines for the green beans that Nonna would cook for dinner, and picking the strawberries that never seemed to make it from the yard to the house because he ate them all before he got inside.

Levi had mentioned during one of their calls that on a clear day, they could see all the way to Washington, D.C., the view from here completely unencumbered by other houses or trees. Joey found himself searching the horizon to see if that was true. They were so high, he could almost believe that if he was only an inch or two taller, he’d bump his head on the sky.

Miles scowled at the cell screen, clearly upset, before stuffing his phone back in his pocket.

“Bad text?” Joey asked.

Miles had been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive. He shook his head, then took another cursory glance at the landscape Joey couldn’t take his eyes off of. They hadn’t made it more than a few feet from the truck because the view had literally stopped him in his tracks. “Should we go knock on the door?”

Before Joey could respond, they heard a female voice calling to them from the porch of the house.

“You’re here!”

Joey spun around, blinking several times and even shaking his head. His shocked gasp was audible, drawing Miles’s attention.

“You okay, man?”

“It’s her,” Joey whispered.

“Her who?”

Joey watched as the petite strawberry-blonde woman descended the stairs, walking in their direction, intent on greeting them. She wore faded overalls over a hot-pink long-sleeved tee and her long hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, though a chunk of it had fallen out on one side. She tucked it behind her ear each time the breeze blew it loose again. She wore the girliest Doc Martens he’d ever seen, the boots covered in pink and purple flowers.

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