Page 2 of So Wrong It Must Be Right

Dinah had waged her own personal battle over the seemingly ironic—or at the very least incongruous—business plan her uncle had put forth, but being the black sheep of the family, thanks to her dad screwing up just about everything, meant Dinah didn’t have a say. Even Kayla, as sustainability manager, adding her opinion had done nothing to sway her father.

So, Dinah would find a way to get Mr. Hippie Urban Farmer to sell his land, and with any luck, convince him she was doinghima favor and sign him up for a booth for next year’s market, which Kayla would be in charge of. The Gallagher & Ivy Farmers’ Market would be a success one way or another.

“From what I can find, Trask grew up on a real farm and his family left that one, then he worked on the farm of some other family member, who sold to a developer or something. This place was his grandmother’s house, and over the course of the past four years he’s turned it into this. So, that may explain his refusing your father’s initial offer,” Dinah said.

“What makes you think we can get through to him if my dad couldn’t?”

“His family has a history of selling land. He should be well versed in the benefits. Surely a guy like him wants a bigger space, and the money we’re offering will allow him that. Besides, we have a soul and decency on our side.”

Kayla snorted. “No offense, but I’m a little glad your dad went off the deep end and I’m not the only one with a soulless Gallagher as a father.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dinah muttered, trying to ignore the little stab of pain. She couldn’t be offended at the attack on her dad. It was warranted. They’d spent plenty of their childhood complaining about Kayla’s dad being a douche. But, still, it hurt. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Oh well, what could she do? She and Kayla stepped under the archway of green tendrils and the sign that readFront Yard Farm.The placewascute. Weird, no doubt, but cute.

Before they could make it past the first hurdle of beanstalks or whatever, the door to the brick house creaked open and a man stepped onto the porch. Dinah stopped midstep, barely registering that Kayla did too.

He was tall and lanky and wore loose-fitting khaki-colored pants covered in dirt, and a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows over a faded T-shirt. It was the face though that really caught her attention. Sharp and angular. Fierce. Only softened by the slight curl to his dark hair, his beard obscuring his jawline. Something about the way he moved was pure grace, and everything about his looks made Dinah’s attraction hum to attention.

“He’s like every hipster fantasy I’ve ever had, come to life,” Dinah whispered, clutching Kayla’s arm briefly.

“Lord, yes.”

The man on the stoop, with the hoe, and the flannel, and the beard—sweet Lord—stared at them suspiciously. “Can I help you two?”

Dinah exchanged a glance with her cousin, who was valiantly trying to pretend they hadn’t been drooling.

“Mr. Trask?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Dinah Gallagher and this is Kayla Gallagher. We’re from Gallagher’s Ta—”

“Nope.”

The door slammed so emphatically, Dinah jerked back. She’d barely registered the guy moving inside before he disappeared behind that slammed door.

“Well.”

“What were you saying about human decency and souls making a difference?”

Dinah started picking her way across the narrow and uneven brick path to the door. “He hasn’t had a chance to see it yet. Maybe the meeting with your dad ended poorly. We’ll have to mend a few fences.”

“Before we buy them all,” Kayla muttered. “Remember when we were kids and thought we’d be calling the shots?”

“We still will be. Just need another decade.” Or two. That’s how family business worked. She wasn’t going to abandon her destiny just because it was harder than she’d expected or taking longer than she’d anticipated. No, she was going to fight.

And should Kayla, her cousin and best friend, ever get married, Dinah would not follow in her father’s footsteps and sleep with Kayla’s spouse.

Dinah reached the door and knocked. She didn’t entertain thoughts of failing because it simply wasn’t an option. Failing Gallagher’s was never going to be an option.

The door remained closed. Dinah pursed her lips. This wasnotgoing the way she’d planned.

“Okay. Well. I won’t be deterred.”

“Come on, Dinah. Let’s go.” Kayla stood in the yard, hands shoved into the pockets of her dress. “Call him. Write him an email. I don’t want him calling the cops on us. Oh, maybe you can accidentally write him one of your sex emails. That’ll get his attention.” She sighed, loud enough to be heard across the yard. “I would so not mind getting that guy’s attention.”

“I’m going to pick something.” Dinah surveyed the plants surrounding her. She didn’t know a lot about farmers or farming, but if he was so dead set on not selling, he obviously cared deeply about this yard of produce. So, she’d lure him out that way.

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