Page 24 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Sounds more like you want to avoid working,” she says with a smirk.
“One-hundred percent yes,” I say, not missing a beat.
She laughs. “Fine. But you can’t ignore this place forever. Promise me we’ll start Grandma Nora’s bedroom as soon as we get back?”
I heave a sigh. “You’re going to be pushy about this, aren’t you? You’re going to make me do hard things.”
“Only because of how much I love you.”
I grab my purse from where I left it by the door and pull out the keys to the luxury SUV the rental place gave me when they didn’t have the economy car I originally booked. Now that I have Mom’s Subaru, I’ll return the rental when I take Kristyn to the airport, but until then, we might as well drive around Silver Creek in style.
It’s a short drive over to the farm, but not so short that I don’t have time to worry about not calling ahead. Brody did say his mom would love to see me, but when we pull up the long, winding drive that cuts through the open pastures at the front of Stonebrook Farm’s expansive property, I’m still nervous.
Goats are grazing in the distance, the rolling hills divided by white picket fencing. Massive maple trees line either side of the drive, their deep green leaves shading the pavement. We round a bend and can see the pavilion where the Hawthornes held a graduation party for each of their kids. The year Brody and I graduated, they made sure everyone knew the party was for bothof us. The pavilion is bustling with activity, staff setting up for what looks like a wedding.
Kristyn gasps as she takes it all in. “Can people get married here? I thought it was just a farm.”
“It is a farm. But they do all kinds of events, too. Weddings, reunions, corporate retreats.” Another bend in the drive, and the farmhouse finally comes into view. Its white clapboard siding gleams in the sunlight, and the windows sparkle. Huge barrels overflowing with blooms line the front porch, and smaller versions adorn the steps. Half a dozen rocking chairs sit on either side of the enormous front door. At the end of the porch, a basset hound lazes against the sun-warm boards, angled so his body is entirely within the section of porch still touched by afternoon light.
“Wow,” Kristyn says as I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt. “This place is amazing.”
We climb out, pausing at the base of the porch steps. “The Hawthornes used to live here“—I point up at the farmhouse—”but when Brody was in middle school, they converted it into offices and event space and built a family house on the back end of the property.” I turn and point the opposite direction. “The strawberry fields are that way. And then over there, if we were to follow the road that cuts through those trees, we’d get to the barn and the livestock pens. Beyond that are the apple orchards and the main homestead.”
Kristyn follows my gaze, her hands on her hips as she takes it all in. “I can’t imagine getting to grow up at a place like this.”
“It was magical even for me, and I was only here after school and on weekends.” We slowly start climbing the steps, and I will my heart to slow down. “I was mostly with my dad when I wasn’t in school, but Brody talked about their summers like they were the stuff dreams are made of. They worked a lot, but they alsospent a lot of time sitting around the campfire, swimming in the creek, and playing with the baby goats.”
“Stop it,” Kristyn says. “Seriously. Every word you say brings me closer to leaving Jake and making a move on Brody just so I can call this place home.”
An uncomfortable pressure expands in my chest. “There areotherbrothers. None ofthemare married either.”
I sound defensive. Why am I defensive? I have nothing to be defensive about.
Kristyn stops and props her hands on her hips. “What’s this, huh? Are you worried your verymarried cousin was going to make an actual move on your man?”
I scoff. “He’s not my man.”
“No, andIwasn’t trying to get a rise out of you just then.”
I purse my lips. “You aren’t funny.”
She makes a show of studying me closely, and I roll my eyes. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d smack the smug expression right off her face. “It almost seems like youcareabout who Brody does or doesn’t date.”
I fold my arms. Two can play at this game, and she will not get me to cave. “I don’t care. Who Brody dates in real or hypothetical situations is not my concern.”
“Uh-huh,” she says dryly. “Which is exactly why you got weird when I mentioned it.”
“I didn’t get weird. You’re the one who said you would leave Jake like it was no big deal. You’re the weird one.”
She shakes her head and moves past me to the door, laughter still in her voice. “Whatever you say.”
Once we’re inside, a receptionist smiles warmly. She’s young and pretty, and I suddenly wonder if Brody thinks she’s pretty. He’s so close to his family, he’s probably on the farm all the time. Does he stop by when he’s here so he can flirt with the pretty receptionist?
Kristyn nudges me, and I glance up, meeting the woman’s expectant gaze. She said something, and I totally missed it.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“She said, ‘Welcome to Stonebrook Farm,” Kristyn says from just behind me.
