Page 2 of The Inn

“Thank you, this is perfect.” I step inside.

I’m surprised to find that the inn really is perfect on the inside too. The great room has a warm, green, kitchenette, a sitting area with a brown tweed couch, and a bright white bathroom. The door to the bedroom is already open and when I step inside, my breath catches in my throat.

The room is pure tranquility. The window overlooks a small flower garden and is draped with white, gauzy curtains. In the center of the bedroom is a hand-carved queen bed with an intricately detailed frame and matching nightstand. On top of it rests a handmade quilt with floral patterns. The walls are covered in wooden shiplap and oak beams vault to form a ceiling.

It’s like something straight off a Joanna Gaines Pinterest board and I am totally here for it. I haul my massive bag onto the bed and unzip it in search of the perfect outfit for working on a farm.

Knock. Knock.

The knock comes as soon as I get changed and without a moment to spare. My excitement propels me toward the door. I’m ready for farm life. But when I open it, I'm met with a stunningly attractive man. I don’t just mean hot for a city boy, I mean rancher hot. This guy is gorgeous.

He’s tall, with dark eyes and broad shoulders. His body is solid in a way that only someone who bales hay all day can be. Plus he’s wearing real-life cowboy boots and a hat. His shirt is tucked into his tight jeans and I can tell by his backside that this dude has been putting in some squats. His whole look is held together by a leather belt with a massive buckle. I can see the outline of his rock-hard abs through his long sleeve shirt and it makes my mouth water.

Okay Summer, do not drool. Keep your shit together. You’re at work.I blow out a breath and pull my shoulders back because I am a professional. “Hello. You must be Jameson Findlay. I’m Summer.”

“Hey.” Jameson takes my hand in his. His grip is firm and his hands are enormous.

Heat bubbles between us and it makes my knees go weak. I wonder if he feels it too because Jameson pulls his hand away just as quickly. He tilts his head, looks up, and raises one eyebrow. I feel his eyes rake up and down my body.

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk and he shakes his head. “You do realize that we’re going to be doing actual farm work today. We aren’t Robinson Ranch, this isn’t just some kind of vacation.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for. I need to learn about life on Findlay Farms firsthand.” I nod my head but Jameson doesn’t return my smile.

Instead, I feel his eyes running the length of my body again and it has the same effect as earlier. I swallow hard. “Is there a problem?”

“It ain’t clean work out here.” A sarcastic chuckle forces its way through his lips. “We’ve got animals to feed and seeds to sow, that sort of thing.” He cuts his eyes at me.

I fire back. “Thank you, I’m aware. The wordfarmin the title of your ranch gave it away. Besides, I always do my research before I take on an assignment.”

From the look on his face, I’d say that Jameson is not at all impressed. I cross my arms and tilt my chin up in his direction. So what if he’s the world's hottest rancher, I am not intimidated.

“But you’ve never been on a working farm before.” He comments almost under his breath, eyebrows raised.

Of course, I’ve never actually been on a farm before, but he doesn’t know that.

If I was writing a piece on my look, I’d call it a whimsical expression of simplicity and nature. My dress is cinched at the waist with a fantastic woven belt I found at a local thrift store. It accentuates my curves all while practically oozing relaxed charm.

My outfit isn’t an accident. Over preparing is a part of my coping strategy to combat anxiety. I curated it especially for this interview and is exactly the look I was going for down to the footwear.

Originally I was on the hunt for cowboy boots, but when I put them on with the dress it was a bit too on the nose for the first day. So I ended up with lace-up ankle boots in weathered brown leather. To top off the look, I added a dainty floral crown. This man has no idea what he’s talking about. My look is spot-on farm chic.

“So you did your research and here you are, dressed up like some kind of woodland fairy.”

“It’s cottage-core,” I blurt as I swipe the flower crown off my head. “But thank you,woodland fairyisn’t a terrible vibe. I could see how you’d get the two confused.”

He lets out a strangled chuckle. “It isn’t a compliment.”

“Yeah, I got that.” I cut my eyes at him. “But I’m choosing to take it as one anyway.”

Jameson might be hot, but I’m starting to think he might also be a real asshole. But somehow, on him, it’s an intoxicating combination. His gruff attitude and no-nonsense demeanor stir something within me. I like a challenge.

I take a step away from him and the heel of my boot knocks into a massive potted plant on the corner of the porch. The jolt sends me off balance and I stumble. I brace myself for the impact, but before I know what’s happening, Jameson’s massive hands are on my waist, holding me firmly in place.

My mouth falls open. More from shock than to thank him, but no words come out either way. I can’t think over the heat cracking through me from his touch. For a moment, Jameson seems frozen too.

Then he steps back with a shake of his head. But he can’t hide the ghost of a smile that plays on his lips. I collect myself, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He stares right back at me. Something tells me that Jameson might like a challenge too.

His stare on mine sets my heart racing and has my mind running wild. Something about Jameson Findlay draws me in. From the perfect symmetry of his facial features to the squareness of his jawline, the man is breathtaking. But it’s his eyes that really draw me in. They glimmer with a depth that has me desperate to learn more about him.

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