“How’s she working out?” He asks before biting into his Reuben sandwich.
“Good.”
“She told us she made a bet with you about your milk sales last weekend.”
I almost miss my mouth with the next forkful of potatoes. “Yeah?”
Ethan looks smug. “She wouldn’t tell us what you wagered, though.”
My face goes beet-red, and my brother laughs.
CHAPTER18
MOLLY
Wednesday morning,I get a text from an unknown number.
Come up to the house for lunch.
Alex wants us all together.
Also, this is Kit.
Molly
Did you get my number from Alex because you’re too lazy to come down?
Kit
Maybe…
At one, I trudge up the hill to the big house. I’m the last to come in, and the guys make room for me at the table across from Alex.
I haven’t seen him since Sunday night, and we exchange tentative smiles. Kissing him was stupid. I won fair and square, and instead of letting myself off the hook for my impulsive bet, I doubled down. Several times I’ve caught myself fantasizing about the soft brush of his beard against my chin and have to smack myself for thinking about my boss like that.
Being around the rest of Alex’s staff, though, prevents me from blurting out any idiotic questions.
Lunch is some sort of shredded, aromatic pork with stewed beans, rice, and veggies. One of these days, I’m going to have to meet Anna and give her a big ‘ole hug.
Kit’s telling a story about one of his friends back in Here that has everyone laughing. Alex asks about Luis, Jesús’s son, who’s graduating high school next month. It’s very familiar and warm.
After we eat, though, Alex stacks our empty plates and rests his forearms on the table. “I wanted to ask if anyone has any improvements or suggestions they’d like to make around here.”
The table’s quiet as the men all exchange glances.
“You can think about it, of course, but I’m game for anything. If there’s something you think would be good for the farm, whether that’s you or our animals, I want to hear it.”
Jesús and Perry offer a few ideas about things I don’t frankly understand: homogenizers, cow collars, and corn silage.
Alex takes notes.
“The farm shop could use a little…” I waggle my head, trying to think of a polite way to phrase it.
“Sprucing up?” Alex suggests.
“Gutting and rebuilding?” Kit one-ups.
“Somewhere in between,” I say. “It’s cute, but it’s clothes-heavy. I think some smaller things like stickers or coffee mugs might do better. And, sorry, but the wire racks should go.”
