Trevon stilled, feeling the familiar body behind him. The truth was, he could smell her sweet perfume. It was a beautiful mix of vanilla and bergamot.
“I’m going to put you to work if you don’t at least come and kiss my cheek,” he grinned. He hoped he wouldn’t scare her, but when he felt her small hand at his shoulder, he turned to see her smiling, kneeling beside him as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“That was the sweetest kiss I believe I’ve ever had,” he smiled.
“You’re lying,” she giggled.
“I’m not. It was perfect. Innocent and sweet and trusting. That means everything to me.”
“I do trust you, Trevon. I hope you know that. I was timid at first just because you were a stranger, but I thought you were handsome and sweet right away. Agent Fowler warned me not to get too close to anyone just in case Jay found out and came after me.”
“I’m not worried about Jay, Millicent. I’m worried about you. As long as you’re safe, healthy, and happy, then my life is complete.”
She gripped his forearm and leaned forward again, this time touching his lips and just lingering there for a moment. Trevon was afraid to move, afraid he’d scare her, and she’d run off.
“Will you help me pick the vegetables for tonight’s meal?” she smiled.
“You kiss me like that again and I’ll pick the vegetables for the next ten years,” he smiled.
He lifted one of the baskets and followed her up and down the rows, chatting as they walked.
“Were you a happy child?” she asked.
“I was,” he smiled. “I had wonderful parents and a wonderful grandmother who raised me for the most part. My folks worked a lot of hours, and as you know, farming is hard.”
“It is, but it’s so satisfying,” she smiled.
“That’s the way I feel about it, too. My granny, she was something else. Miss Ruby kind of reminds me of her.”
“Wasn’t Miss Ruby a prostitute?” frowned Millicent. Trevon laughed, nodding his head.
“She was, but she did it to support her six children. I can’t fault a woman for that. She provided for her children in an age when many black women would have been sent to a poor house and her children taken from her. She made quite a business empire. Now, I’m not in favor of women needing to do that, but I admire her, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” she nodded. “I like her as well. She’s been very kind to me. So, what did your granny do?”
“Oh, she took in sewing from the neighbors. She was a great seamstress. Granny could look at a lady, know her measurements right away, and take any fabric and make her something beautiful. She’d made work dresses, day dresses, even wedding dresses. She was so talented.”
“You loved her a lot,” smiled Millicent as he put the basket in the ATV and grabbed another empty one.
“I did. She taught me to be a gentleman. To use my size and strength to help people, not hurt them.” Millicent nodded, frowning.
“Like Jay and my father.”
“And your brother, Tick,” said Trevon softly.
“I know you’re right. It’s just that Tick never seemed so angry, so mean. He was always the one trying to make me laugh or assuring me that everything would be okay. Sometimes, I wonder if it was Jay who killed Tick, not the FBI.”
“It’s possible,” said Trevon. “Anyway, when I finished high school, I went off to college to play football. When that was done, I still wanted to play. I wanted to make enough money so that my folks wouldn’t have to work again. It was all a dream. I went with a league that was cheating its players. If it weren’t for Nine and Gaspar and all the men here, I’d still be breaking my back with that team.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said, picking the cucumbers. “Do you think genetics are strong enough that they would make you like your parents even if you know it’s wrong?”
“No. I think God gave us free will for a reason. We can choose. We can be kind or mean. We can be forgiving or seek vengeance. We all have a choice, Millicent.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t ever want to be a mean person.”
“I don’t see an ounce of mean inside of you,” he smiled. She laughed, shaking her head.
“I was mean once to Jay. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s still holding that grudge. There was this group of men who came to the house once looking for him. I was about twelve, I think. Anyway, I knew what they wanted, and I thought if I told them he didn’t live there any longer, they’d just go away.”
