More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Note to self—the next time you have a one-night stand, don’t do it in the midst of your entire family.
And the Academy Award goes to…Audrey Kidder, for her performance in The Morning After.
I’d never been able to take a compliment, probably because I never got very many. I grew up in a compliment-free environment.
“I’m sorry. When my phone rings it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong again.” Mrs. Shipley smiled at me. “That can’t always be the case.”
“I’ve been recalled to Boston to work in one of BPG’s most chic kitchens, starting tonight.
Ruth Shipley said. She set down her coffee cup. “Now, we have to talk about last night.” Across the room, Griff choked on a bite of omelet while I simultaneously broke out in a sweat.
It took me a moment, but after I replayed those words in my brain a few times, I was pretty sure “sell some cows” was not a sexual innuendo,
“Oh, it’s Wilson. He’s got the tire you need.” Griff’s gaze lifted quickly to mine, as if he’d forgotten I was here. He looked a little sad for some weird reason.
The word “bunkhouse” was probably going to make me all hot and bothered for the rest of my life.
Even now I felt the urge to drop my face onto his pillow one more time and take a final breath of Griff. Was that creepy? Probably.
What is the post-hook-up-I’ll-be-in-touch-about-the-cider protocol?
“It’s been…interesting.” “Aw.” He actually rolled his eyes. “Interesting? That’s the review I get? I’m pretty sure the earth moved.”
For five years I’d forgotten about him, and all the things that went wrong for me at BU. But now I’d be thinking about Griff for quite some time. The man left an impression.
“You okay?” His brown eyes searched my expression. “Of course,” I bit out. Then his mouth was on mine, his lips full and warm.
When he pulled back, I wasn’t ready. “That’s just a little something to remember me by,” he whispered. As if I could forget.
“You stopped banging the hottest woman in the county because you felt guilty?”
My traitorous brain went immediately to Audrey Kidder, as it so often did these days. Every time I got in bed, I imagined her there beside me.
“You’re not first in line there, Kyle.” “Why? I don’t see a ring.” “She and Griffin…”
my daily fantasy snapped into place. “No way.” Lo and behold, Audrey Kidder sat on a barstool talking to Zara.
And what the hell was I even going to say to the girl? Hey, since you left I’ve been playing our night together over and over in my mind obsessively. Have a beer with me and my nosy family?
Of course I’d expected to see Griff Shipley again in Vermont. It’s just that I thought it might take longer than an hour to run into him.
“Evening, Grumpy Griff.” The corners of Zara’s mouth turned up.
“What did you ever do to her?” I asked, taking sides with a woman I’d known for about three minutes.
“Boys, say hi to our friend Audrey.” “Hi-to-our-friend-Audrey,”
I’d probably come here every night like a loser if it meant sitting hip to hip to Griff Shipley. Pathetic much?
I didn’t mean to advertise the fact that I’d thought about the Shipley farm every day since I’d left it.
The last two weeks he spent grabbing my ass and calling me ‘Tawdry.’ That was his funny little joke.” Griffin made the grouchiest face I have ever seen on him. And that’s saying something.
“That pie gives me a foodgasm. It’s pretty much the reason I work the orchard in the first place.” “Naw,” Griff scoffed. “It’s because of my winning personality.”
as his hand retreated back to its own territory, it took mine with it.
I wanted to throw myself at him again. But I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t. Really.
Who knew that the wrist was an erogenous zone? I’d begun to prickle with awareness everywhere. And he was only holding my hand.
Unbidden, my leg drifted ever so slightly closer to him beneath the table. Griff chuckled quietly, then skimmed his palm over my bare knee again. I stopped breathing.
His big hands landed at my waist, where they nearly encircled me. I wanted to stay there, pinned by Griff Shipley, forever. I’d always been a practical girl. Not.
“Is this what we do?” I asked with a wheeze. “We attack each other at every outdoor opportunity?” “Apparently,”
“You asked me for help with business. I’m not gonna be like that asshole chef who’s grabbing your ass when you’re just trying to get a job done.”
Don’t fall for him, I ordered myself. Don’t you dare.
“The, uh, motor lodge,” I confessed. Until that moment I hadn’t realized that I’d chosen the option closer to the Shipley Farm. Thanks, subconscious.
Where is your car, princess?” God, I hated that nickname.
“It’s two miles down the road, Griff. Even a fuck-up like me can find it.” Kyle laughed, but Griffin looked like he’d tasted something sour.
I noticed that Griff waited until I’d left the parking lot and turned in the proper direction before he drove away into the night. He really did think I was supremely incompetent. Just like everyone else did.
Tonight I’d added yet another item to the list of things I wanted. And this one was as dangerous to my sanity as any other dream. Saying goodnight to Audrey had caused me physical pain—even
There was no reason why that girl should make me so crazy.
Audrey came out in another one of her tiny denim skirts that killed me, her long legs gleaming in the morning sunlight as she hurried toward the truck. She tossed her hair out of the way, exposing smooth, bare shoulders. It was gonna be a long day.
Audrey smelled like fruity shampoo and lemon scones. That, and her teasing smile made me hungry for about a hundred different things, only a few of which were food.
“What are you thinking about? Because you didn’t even hear what I said, did you?” “I could hazard a guess,” Jude muttered
All the teasing fell out of her voice, which became soft. “Would you like a scone, Grouchy Griff?” “Yes please, princess.”
I stood there like a dolt, watching her wrap the old farmer around her finger.
But really—her enthusiasm for ingredients was obvious. Who wouldn’t want to sell produce to a girl who practically orgasmed over the balance of sugars and acids in a purple heirloom tomato?
“Crap. I was worried about that for you.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Careful, Griff, you almost sound helpful right now.” Damn it, I did.
The apples on the scale didn’t quite weigh out to the five bucks on the voucher. “You’ve got more coming. Hang on.” One more apple would have done it, but I grabbed four and bagged them all up together.