Read Chapter 1 of Pick Me, Handsome

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Chapter One
Shane

One Year Ago

I pulled on my boots, tying one and then the other. It was going to be a nice day, but the early mornings were always a little chilly. I pulled on the old plaid shirt that was torn in one corner, and the sleeve on my left had a snag that was just ready to rip wide open. I grabbed my favorite ballcap that advertised the orchard and stepped outside. 

My little cabin was nestled behind some trees that were planted in a straight little row to act as a windbreak for the apple trees nestled inside the cocoon created by the towering trees on three sides. The trees also helped hold in the heat on a cold fall night when an unexpected frost hit. 

I inhaled the crisp morning air, something I didn’t think I would ever get tired of. Even when I was away at school, I missed home. Not home but the small town in northwest Maryland where I grew up. Home wasn’t exactly the word that triggered warm and fuzzy memories. But the land did. 

It was still dark out, but that didn’t stop me from getting to work. I didn’t hear the alarms go off in the orchard last night, which meant we didn’t get a freeze. A little cold weather was good for the apples, made them all the sweeter, but a freeze could devastate a crop. 

I exhaled, watching my breath blow out in a steady white cloud as I cut through the tree line and into the orchard. I heard the rumbling of an old diesel coming down the dirt road at the back of the property. I wasn’t expecting to see Maurice so early. I was usually the first one up. The pickers didn’t usually show up for another hour. It was my favorite time of the morning. It was just me and the apples. 

I walked down a row, casually inspecting the trees as I moved. I waited for Maurice to cut the loud engine before hopping out of the truck. Even if I did decide to sleep in, his loud truck would have woken me up. 

“What are you doing here so early?” I asked him. 

He pulled on his own flannel shirt, a haggard brown and red one. “I snuck out before any of them kids woke up and wanted something.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “What a good dad.”

“Dammit, Shane, they had me up until midnight last night. Five kids is like herding cats. One goes down, another gets up for some stupid reason. Get that one down and another one has to pee and tell you about Minecraft or some shit. I love ‘em, but holy shit, they drive me crazy sometimes.”

“So you leave poor, sweet Millie home all by herself to deal with them?”

“All she’s gotta do is get them out the door.”

“I’m sure that’s easy,” I said sarcastically. 

“She lives for that kind of thing. Hell, she’d have twenty kids if God allowed it.”

“You would die.”

“Damn straight, I would.”

“You know, there are ways to keep that sort of thing from happening.”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Shane, do you know how babies are made?”

“Um, yeah, I think I got that covered.”

“Well, I’m not about to give up that,” he said with total seriousness. 

I chuckled, shaking my head again. “Then you better figure out how to keep from knocking up your wife. It’s been like four years since the youngest was born, right?”

“Yep. We’re on a roll. Don’t jinx me.”

I was not going to get into the subject of birth control with the man. “Fine. We’ve got the local kindergarten class coming out today. We need to make sure there are no ladders out for them to climb on. You remember what happened last year.”

He grinned. “That boy will be the talk of the town for the next ten years.”

“That boy damn near cost me the business.”

“Shoot, both of my boys have broken both their arms. One little broken arm never killed anyone. Parents are raising a bunch of sissies these days.”

“He broke his arm in two places,” I reminded him. 

He shrugged, unfazed by the facts. Maurice was old school. He was raised on the old-school ways. You wanted to teach a kid to swim, you tossed them in the deep end. Or off the dock. Whatever was available. He worked for my father for ten years before I took over the family business. He was a fixture just as much as one of the heirloom apple trees. 

“When are the little rugrats getting here?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Good. We need to check that back area. Something’s getting in there.”

“Something?” I asked, following him down the row. 

“Bugs. Not aphids. I don’t know. Damn these trees. All this organic bullshit is hell on yields. If you wanted to cheat just a little, I wouldn’t tell.”

“We’re not cheating. They are organic.”

“They are organic all right because they are a load of crap.”

I said nothing more. The organic thing was my idea. My dad had resisted, but when he saw the profits, he got on board. Slowly, the company brand became known for organic apples. I liked that we were doing something a little good. Yield was down a bit but that was to be expected. We were figuring it out. 

“We better get up front. We don’t want those kids running amuck.”

“Stun gun,” he said. “That’s what I use at home.”

I laughed, knowing he was full of shit. We strolled through the orchard, going up to the little building we used to sell direct as well as give customers a place to browse. My long legs ate up the distance. I had to remind myself to slow down for Maurice, who was a few inches shorter than me. 

“Good morning, Mr. Corden,” one of the young women who manned the front desk said with a smile. 

“Please, call me Shane. Mr. Corden was my dad. I’m just Shane.”

“Yes, Shane.”

“We have the group coming in,” I said. 

She nodded. “Yep. We have all their little goodie bags ready for when the tour is over. Are you going to give the tour?”

“Yes, even though Joan usually does the tour. I’m normally just the guy who makes sure the kids don’t climb ladders or trees or anything else.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “I believe they are bringing chaperones.”

“They need to bring prison guards,” Maurice said. “I’ve got a kid this age. They’re criminals and sneaky. They could escape Alcatraz.”

“I used to work in a daycare, so I believe you,” she said with a laugh. 

My experience with kids was next to nothing. I couldn’t imagine a little human less than half my size could possibly be that big of a problem. “Showtime,” I said when I saw the bus pulling to a stop out front. 

Maurice groaned as he followed me out the door. We stood in front of the building, waiting for the kids to get off the bus. The door slid open and an older woman got out, smiling as she looked at us. 

“Are you ready for this?” she asked at the same time a series of squeals and laughter erupted from behind her. 

“We’re ready,” I told her. 

A steady stream of pint-sized humans hopped off the bottom step. Three adults brought up the rear. My eyes were immediately drawn to the woman with long, auburn hair. She was wearing dark sunglasses and a pretty pink blouse with long sleeves and gaping shoulder cutouts. The cropped skinny jeans she had on showed off her shapely legs and dainty ankles.

She pushed up her sunglasses and looked directly at me. Apple green. That was the color of her eyes. They were beautiful, as was she. She smiled at me and it was one of those gut-punch kind of things. The kind that reached right down and squeezed my balls, sending delicious shivers of desire up and down my spine. 

“Hi,” she said in a voice that was just a touch raspy. It was sexy as hell. 

“Hi,” I said and stepped forward. “Are you the teacher?”

“I’m a teacher, but today, I’m a chaperone. Becca.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Shane and this is Maurice. We’ll be your tour guides.”

“Great. The kids are thrilled to be here.”

Maurice took charge. He pretended he didn’t like kids, but I knew otherwise. He was a natural. A little gruff but he knew how to talk to them in their limited language. We started moving through the orchard. Maurice and I talked about the different kinds of apples, and Maurice, always prepared, busted out his knife much to the excitement of the little boys in the group. 

“Who wants to try a bite?” he asked. 

Several hands shot up. He wiped an apple on his shirt before expertly cutting it into slices. Nowhere else in the country would this kind of thing fly, but here in our small town, people were more laidback. 

“Eww,” one little boy said. “It’s icky.”

I laughed. “That’s an apple you bake. I bet your mama makes apple pies with that kind of apple.”

“I thought apples were sweet,” a cute little girl said. 

I looked at her, the woman I met earlier putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Some are sweet. Some are tart.”

I didn’t have to question the genetics. It was mother and daughter. Some dude was a very lucky man. “Your mom is right. These apples are not great for eating, but they are great for baking. We’re going to go over to another stand of trees with some delicious apples. They are sweet and perfect for eating. Should we check them out?”

There were plenty of shouts of excitement. Maurice and I led the way. “That was mean,” I whispered to him. 

He chuckled. “Nah, it was teaching them the difference.”

“You knew they wouldn’t like them.”

“Now you get to be the hero.”

Every child was given the go-ahead to pick a few apples. It was like an Easter egg hunt, but instead of the kids searching the ground, they were looking up. The pretty blonde was helping another student pick an apple while her daughter struggled to get one that was just out of her reach. I knew what it was like to see an apple you just knew was going to be perfect and you couldn’t quite get it. 

“Can I help you?” I asked her. 

“I want that one,” she said and pointed up. 

I reached out and touched the apple. “This one?”

“Yes. Can you get it for me please?”

She was too cute. “Absolutely.” I plucked it and handed it to her. 

Becca looked my way and smiled. She started to walk toward me. Before she could reach me, a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. 

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. 

Scarlet was charging at me like a bull seeing red. Her red hair was flying out behind her as she moved toward me. I instinctively stepped away from the kids, moving to head her off like she was a charging animal. 

“What the hell did you do?” she snarled. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You think this is going to work? No, this is mine! You don’t get to cut me out of everything!”

“Leave, Scarlet. You get nothing.”

“We’ll just see about that,” she hissed. 

I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the kids and chaperones watching us. I didn’t dare lay a hand on Scarlet, but damn if I was going to let her make a scene in front of everyone. I used my larger body to block her forward progress. “Get out of here before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Don’t pretend you give a damn what those little brats hear,” she spat. “I want my money!”

“You don’t have any money here. You already got all you are going to get. Leave.”

“By this time next month, I will own this place. I’m going to turn these trees into wood chips and build something worth having!”

I smirked. “Yeah, you do that. There was a reason he didn’t leave you shit, you dirty little gold digger. Now get the hell out of here before I make your life miserable.”

“I’ll be back,” she shot back. 

“Just like a bad rash, Scarlet.”

I escorted her all the way to the employee parking lot and watched her get into the red Porsche my father had bought for her. She got to keep that damn thing. She should be happy with that. I walked into the office/reception building to check on things. Scarlet was worse than a tornado. When she came in, she always caused a ruckus. 

“Everything okay?”

“Fine. I tried to stop her.”

“It’s fine. There’s no stopping a charging bull.”

I walked out in time to see the kids climbing back into the bus. I saw the back of the auburn’s head and that was that.