Page 61 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

Angie didn’t compute in this declared bachelor lifestyle. If any guy treated her like I treated the women I took back to the pool house, I’d be tempted to punch them in the gut.

Why? I didn’t know. One thing I did know—“Nothing lasts forever,” I said aloud, my thoughts once again escaping from my head.

“Love does. Look at my parents.”

Tony and Nora. The one exception to my theory, and yet their love was still ending in heartbreak.

“For every one of them, there are hundreds of others like my parents.” I tried to pass my comment off as a joke with a nudge. “You have more faith in the world than I have.”

She didn’t bite and pulled herself back onto her seat. Her lips tugged into a slight frown. “How sad your life must be—but of course you’re an evil overlord, so it makes sense.”

Starting the diesel engine, she slammed the glass cab door before I had a chance to respond.

“You still owe me tractor lessons. And don’t think Oscar counts!” I shouted at her, but she made a motion like she couldn’t hear me.

I took out my phone and texted her.No dirt bike lessons until you teach me to drive the big tractor.

In every negotiation, always keep the upper hand.

Chapter 23

Remi

Thegreen,hulking,metalmachine stood in front of me, waiting to be tamed. I’d driven every recreational machine under the sun, but I hadn’t branched into heavy equipment. Angie kicked at the soil beside me and chewed on her nails.

The dirt rose in the air and blew away in the stiff breeze. A few months before I came here, Myles complained often about the winds. I found them refreshing, not stagnant and filled with car exhaust or heavy fast-food byproducts. My eyes focused past the dissipating dust to the ground, still mostly brown, but it was broken up by tiny bright-green sprigs of—corn? The only way I could identify the plants pushing out of the ground was the location of the fields and the direct connection to helping Angie load the planter with the kernels.

Corn I’d help plant. I left the tractor behind me and crouched near my baby plants. “Look, Angie.” I peeked up at her with what I was sure was a goofy grin and her face softened into a smile. “The little baby corns. They’regrowing.”

I couldn’t describe the pride washing over me as I looked down the rows of green fledgling sprouts. I had a part in their existence. Leaning onto all fours, I put my face right next to the row and brushed my fingers over their delicate leaves. I’d never experienced anything like this.

Angie let a funny laugh out her nose. I was surprised I even got that much of a reaction from her. She tried to stay cold and indifferent with me since seeing the letterhead, but the chemistry between us didn’t budge.

I sat back onto my knees. “What? I had to touch them. They’re so cute.”

Squatting with her elbows on her knees, she joined me. “It never gets old. Watching the miracle of life every season.” She took the delicate leaf between her fingers.

Our knuckles touched, and she jerked her hand away as if she’d been burned. I’d spent more time with this woman than any other, even possibly, my own mother. Yet she’d taken to treating me like a prickly cactus.

I stared into her eyes and licked my lips. Slowly. Deliberately. For the briefest second, she focused on my moistened lips. Yeah. She still wanted me. “I understand why you love doing this. It’s hard work but with such a great reward. I mean you can see your work grow. Not many career fields are like that.”

My eyes followed the arch of her eyebrow. What would it be like to trace its subtle curve with my finger and brush my thumb along her high cheekbones, flushed pink by the wind. My hand would then move to the back of her neck and then I’d pull her close and solve the mystery of what it’d be like to feel the warmth of her full lips beneath mine.

I shook my head. I was a masochist. She literally tortured me from dawn until dusk, and I kept coming back. The only thing I wanted from Angie was her land. Smoot could have her.

“Remi?” She tilted her head, and I recentered my focus, doing my best to ignore her parted lips. “What’s it like to travel?”

I stood and dusted off my knees. My jeans no longer looked new and were now spotted with oil stains and small rips where they’d caught on barbed wire. I turned to go back to the tractor. “Magical. And exhausting.”

Angie caught up to me, placing her hand at my elbow. I paused and stared at where her palm rested on me. The hair on my forearm stood up, chills raised by her simple touch.

“Wait. You have to give me more than that.” Her hand fell away from my arm. “You see. I’ve never left Idaho.”

“For reals?”

“Yeah. Why is that such a surprise? I’m a farmer. I can’t leave.” She folded her arms over her abdomen.

“You want your life to be this way?” Even with the miracle of the plants I’d grown, the desire of owning a massive farm like this flared out within the first twenty minutes of working it. Yet, Angie didn’t know anything different. Life could be so much more than pigpens and chicken coops, or day after day spent dealing with all forms of excrement.

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