Page 53 of At First Dance
Of my own damn brother.
I hate it instantly. Hate that Crew’s always been the easy one—easy laugh, easy charm—and that for the first time in my life, I want what’s in his orbit. My jaw locks so hard it pops. I fix my stare on a stack of seed bags like I can grind them down to dust by will alone. Like if I don’t look away, I won’t look over and watch her choose him with a touch that should never matter to me.
“No official word on the rekindling of the couple’s romance, but sources say the chemistry was undeniable…”
Goddammit.
I yank the formula off the shelf, grip it tighter than necessary, and stalk back to the register.
Ted glances up at the screen. “Can’t believe that gal was at Lila’s wedding. Whole town’s been talkin’.”
I grunt and drop the tub on the counter. “How much?”
“Still, she seemed real sweet. My niece swears she signed her gas station receipt. Said she smelled like heaven.”
I don’t answer. Ted gives me a look, then mutters the total. I slap down some bills and leave without waiting for change.
The door slaps shut behind me, and the heat smacks me in the face. But it doesn’t burn half as bad as the image stuck behind my eyes—her, with him.
Crew, grinning like none of it meant anything. Like he hadn’t left her behind without a backward glance.
By the time I pull into the drive at Otter Creek Farm, bypassing my house completely, the sun’s just past its peak, and sweat clings to the back of my shirt like a second skin. I toss the formula into the barn fridge and grab a shovel without thinking—no real plan, just needing to dosomething.
Keep moving. Keep working. Keep her out of your damn head.
The words loop in my skull like a broken prayer.
I’m elbow-deep in clearing a feed stall when I hear laughter. High-pitched. Familiar.
“Rowan!” Hadley’s voice rings out like a bell through the heat and dust. “You’re gonna scare the kids with that scowl.”
I don’t look up. “Didn’t know we were hosting a school field trip.”
“It’s not a school field trip,” she fires back. “It’s Bailey’s weekly reading group. Storytime picnic in the orchard.”
That gets my attention.
Bailey.Of course.
Sure enough, Bailey stands at the edge of the orchard in a wide-brimmed hat with a canvas tote bag slung over her shoulder. Her dress is lemon yellow, scattered with tiny blue flowers. She looks like something out of a magazine—sun-drenched and smug.
I wipe my hands on a rag and head over, jaw tight.
“Would’ve been nice to get a heads-up,” I say when I reach her.
Bailey glances up, completely unfazed. “Told Lila last week. Figured she passed it along.”
“She didn’t.”
“Shocking.” She arches a brow. “The kids love the goats. Thought it’d be nice to let them see the baby ones.”
“And the pecans?”
She gives me a too-sweet smile. “No one’s touching anything.”
I grunt. Apparently not enough to scare her off. Hadley appears at my side like a damn sprite. “Why don’t you go inside and cool off? You look like you’re about to spontaneously combust.”
“I’m fine.”
