Page 6 of Isla

"Now you know. You can sell it to me," I point out.

"I'm getting to that," he bites out, keeping a tight rein on his annoyance. "Like I said, we need a distraction–"

"From what?" I interrupt.

"Our parents were murdered a little less than a year ago."

"Oh my god."Oh my god.And here I am, acting like a total bitch.

"My brothers went downhill really quickly after it happened. The construction business we ran together started to struggle, so I decided to do something drastic to get us out of our funk. I drained our savings to buy the pub. They need this, Isla." The evening sunhighlights the planes of his face, turning his dark brown eyes into caramel.

"I understand. I'm sorry I went off the deep end like that."

"Don't apologize. It must have been quite a shock."

I laugh, "You could say that." I grab another handful of seeds and turn away, but he shifts the bag to his hip and touches my wrist. I freeze.

"I have something to ask you."

I only raise an eyebrow at him, desperately trying to ignore how my skin is buzzing where his fingertips press into my flesh.

"Will you help us at the pub?" He squeezes me before dropping his hand. "We'll pay you, of course."

"I have a better idea."

"Let's hear it."

"I'll help you at the pub–for free–but you and your brothers have to help me renovate a building. Contractors are few and far between at the moment." I start on the next row.

"What building?"

"I'll show you tomorrow. I want to get this row done before the sun sets.”

"It's a deal," he says, his lips curling into the smallest of smiles.

"Really? Even without seeing the building?"

"I don't know why, but I trust you. Even if you did try to bust my face open with a set of keys and ripped a croissant out of my mouth."

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." I shrug, biting my lip to keep myself from smiling back at him.

"No worries." He's silent for a few moments as I finish the row. "What are you planting?"

I drop the last seed in and stand up, smiling. "Sunflowers."

3

Theo’s POV

My heart stutters as Isla turns that mega-watt smile on me. Her hair glows like molten lava in the evening light, her skin golden, sun-kissed freckles beckoning me. My body’s response to her annoys me to no end. She is the feistiest slip of a woman I’ve ever met. Watching her bend over repeatedly in those tiny little jean shorts and muck boots is not what I had envisioned when I stalked over here a few hours ago.

After that red-eye, I tell myself that I want to drink a beer, fill my belly, and go to sleep, but that's a gigantic goddamned lie, and I know it. The only thing I can think about is getting her to smile at me like that again. This move was supposed to be simple. Easy. A fucking walk in the park, for Christ's sake.

"Hey, Grumpy McGrumperson, are you coming?"

"What did you just call me?" She laughs, green eyes sparkling as she swings onto the tractor.

She pats the wheel well next to her. "Come on up. I'll park her in the barn and drive you back home."

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