Page 32 of More Than Falling in Love

As soon as I finish my sentence, Mason opens his mouth, and I know what’s coming.

“Wanna come along?”

“Sure.I’m game.”Poppy stands near the passenger door and smiles at me when I yank it open.

This would be a good time to work her nickname into the conversation because my brain needs a reminder of the friend zone.

After climbing into the passenger seat, she taps on her phone screen.“I let Ava and Dad know that I’m helping out.”

“Fluttering away to do chores?”I glance into the back seat to make sure Mason has his straps buckled correctly.

She touches my arm.“Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“It’ll be fun.”

Maybe Parker will have some time to talk because when I use the nickname or refer to it, the response I get is more than friendly.And that’s the opposite of helpful.But she agreed that we’re no more than friends, so maybe I’m overthinking it.

Once I’m settled behind the wheel, Mason grins and looks at me in the rearview mirror.“Miss Ava said there were muffins.”

“Yep.And the big breakfast will be ready later.”

Poppy shakes her head.“I don’t know how Ava does it all.How does she have time to cook and make it to church?”

“According to Ava, she makes casseroles in her spare time—I’m not sure when she has that—and then on Sundays, she just slides them into the oven.”

“Just.She makes it sound easy.”

Even after seeing Poppy nearly every night, this feels like a treat.“How long will you be in town?”

“I leave tomorrow afternoon.This is a super short visit.”

“Bummer.”Mason crinkles his nose.“But you’ll come back, right?”

She nods.“As soon as I can.”

We stop at the mess hall, grab milk and muffins—and, of course, coffee—then head to the barn to load hay.

Mason is happily telling Poppy about the new calves as I park outside the barn.

When I shift into park, she sets her things on the center console, then claps her hands.“How can I help?”

She’s in a white short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans that hug her figure and tuck into her boots.That is not the outfit for loading hay.

“Finish your breakfast.It won’t take me long.The hay will make you itch.”

She slides out.“I still want to help.I’ll just be careful.”

I toss her a pair of gloves, then point to a stack of bales.“We’re loading that pile on the trailer attached to that tractor.”

Mason shoves the last of his muffin into his mouth, then runs over and hops onto the trailer.“Dad puts them up here, and I move them into place.”

He’s become a big help.And I love chores that we can do together.“Flutter, please don’t hurt yourself.”

Laughing, she puts her hands on her hips.“Think I can’t handle it, cowboy?”

“Not what I said.”I lift the first bale and set it on the trailer.The whole time I feel her staring.

While Mason is scooting the hay into place, I whisper, “Need to watch me do it again?”My question sounds a lot like flirting, which I didn’t catch until after the words were out of my mouth.

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