Page 102 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Thirty-Two

Liv

My hand in Jerry’s, the earthy scent of lavender fills the air as we stroll from the fields into the large drying shed near the house. Jerry pries open the metal door and leans a nearby brick against it to keep it open. The midday sun pours in through the windows, dust floating in the air near rows of old drying racks. A series of timber workbenches sit against one wall, rusted hand tools piled in a heap at one end.

Jerry’s boots clod against the old flooring as he points to the tables and re-adjusts his hat. “I’ve done a bit of cleanin’ up, but there’s still a fair bit to do.” He motions his chin towards a stainless-steel box-shaped machine with an opening at the front. “The strippin’ machine has given up the ghost, so I’ll need to buy another. I should be able to manage by hand until then.”

“Sounds time intensive. I’m happy to help.” Something sharp presses against my ankle between my sock and the boot.

I walk over to the bench and reach for my foot. My basketball stomach reminds me how much harder it’s becoming to make simple movements.

“You alright?” Jerry asks, hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, just a rock or something.”

“Here.” He lifts me up and places me on the edge of the bench.

I shuffle back and smile down at him as he takes off my boot and shakes it, releasing a small piece of gravel. He puts my shoe back on and stands.

“Thanks.” Enjoying a moment off my feet, I lean back, resting my palms on the benchtop behind me. I breathe in deeply then blow it out through my mouth.

Jerry tilts his head. “Tired?”

I push a smile to my lips. “Yeah.”

Pirate barrels into the shed and heads straight for the corner, scratching between the tin wall and the ground.

Jerry’s attention turns to where his dog continues to scratch and whine. “Seeing as I have power there, I was thinkin’ that’s where I could put a stainless steel still in, you know, for making essential oils.”

“Come ’ere.” I hold out a hand.

He weaves his fingers between mine, so I pull him to stand between my open legs.

“I was readin’ up on it,” he says. “I’ll need to do a harvest early Spring, that way we might be lucky enough to get another bloom in late summer.”

I cup his face in my hands. “As much as I want to talk about this, Jerry, believe me, it’s great you’re getting a plan together, but when you said earlier that we needed to talk, I thought you meant about us.”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I did.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, once we got out here, my mind started racin’.”

He’s as nervous me. “Jerry?”

“Yeah.”

“I know staying here was a short-term thing, and I—”

“You wanna move out?” His eyes widen.

I smooth the pad of my thumb across the lines of his forehead. “The opposite. I want to stay if you’ll have me. This place truly feels like home.”

He blows out a breath, a sly smile sneaking across his lips. “You’re stayin’. For real?”

A flutter in my stomach causes me to freeze. It’s strange, like bubbles trapped inside, rolling around.

Jerry narrows his eyes. “Liv?”

The flutter returns, stronger this time. A laugh escapes me. “Oh, my God.” I sweep my hands over my stomach. “I felt the baby move.”

“Really?” Jerry bends down and kisses the fabric stretched across my bump. When he looks up with those dark pools, tears prick at my eyes. “Do you think I could feel it?”

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