Page 2 of Pumpkins for Parker
“Do you always introduce yourself like that when you’re trespassing?”
I grin and shrug. “Only on Thursdays.”
His face doesn’t so much as twitch. Ouch. Tough crowd.
“I’m staying nearby. At The Maple Lodge B&B. I assumed this part of the orchard was public.”
“You assumed? You can’t read or something? There’s a big sign by that fence you slipped through stating that this is private property.”
Shit. Was there really a sign? I guess I was too excited about taking pictures to notice it.
“I thought the orchard was open to the public?” I repeat, instantly regretting the words.
Why can’t I just apologize? Why am I trying to defend myself like I’ve got a leg to stand on? He’s right. I did trespass.
I should say I’m sorry, get back in my car, and hope I never see this scowling man—or his stupidly perfect jaw—ever again.
But before I can open my mouth, he says: “I won’t press charges, but you owe me. You better help out with the harvest tomorrow.”
Wait. What? “Seriously?”
He stares at me and gives me a slow nod.
I blink. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”
I really can. It’s not like I have lots of other plans. Or pride.
I clear my throat. “And maybe… while I’m helping… I could take a few photos?”
He slowly lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t answer me. Wow.Reallytough crowd.
“I mean, since I’ll already be here,” I add. I should stop talking. But I don’t. “I don’t want to beg, but I need this. It’s a one-shot kind of thing. You see, my career is sort of… failing. Spectacularly. Thanks to, well, I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say there was betrayal, and theft, and a really bad engagement ring involved,” I ramble.
His expression still doesn’t change.
“Please. I’m desperate. I’m begging you,” I add before I can stop myself.
Well, there goes my last shred of dignity.
He studies me for a second longer before finally speaking. “Am I going to be in those pictures?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, unless you want to. Then gladly. Yeah, I could totally use a shot of a real mountain man working his pumpkin patch. Have you ever thought of modelling?”
He frowns. “I can’t think of anything worse than posing for pictures.”
Fine, I was wrong. This is where my dignity finally dies.
He turns, clearly done with our conversation, and walks away.
“Be here tomorrow at eight,” he calls over his shoulder. “But use the front door this time.”
Chapter Two
Parker
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the curvy brunette I caught sneaking around Jackson’s Orchard last night. The way her cheeks pinked up when I confronted her about trespassing, and how she tried to rope me into posing for pictures. I shudder. Getting photographed sounds like a nightmare, but standing in front of her lens might not be that bad.
I remember her rambling something about an engagement ring and betrayal. I’m not sure what that was all about, though.
