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And here is the part of the tour that I don’t want to give. I knew she would ask. That's why I brought her here, so I could explain where I came from and how I’m working to change. I want her to know her brother is safe working for me because we don’t do anything illegal. Even if the only reason I know how to do it is because my father has run a cannabis empire for the past twenty years. Underground, just like my farm is.

Could she accept this part of me? We’ve all but avoided talking about it for the last few weeks. Wanting to build our relationship on something other than the fact that I’m her brother's boss and that I used to be a very bad man. Maybe I still am. If I weren’t, I would have had this conversation earlier, or better yet, I would have let her go. But as usual, my selfishness has prevailed.

“My father’s business, I can’t go into too much detail about it. But I learned about growing plants underground there,” I eventually say, wandering down each aisle andinspecting the plants so I can avoid looking her in the eye.

“I had guessed that, but why move to edible plants? You’re basically a farmer, which is...surprising.”

“Why?”

She laughs, and it's nice to hear something so sweet in a place that's been built off the back of something so terrible.

“I just picture a farmer in dungarees and a straw hat, not a black suit, black shirt, and a master at giving orgasms with his tongue,” she whispers.

“Olivia Daniels. You forgot about my cock,” I tease, grabbing her hip and squeezing until she hums her approval.

“Hmm.” She taps her finger against her lip. “Maybe I need a reminder.”

I huff out a small laugh, adjusting my pants. “Going back to your question.” I take a step back to ease the growing tension between us. “I’m a farmer. The practice is called vertical farming. It’s basically eradicated the need for huge amounts of space, soil, and pesticides. It’s organic, really healthy, and tastes incredible.”

“So, I know why you left your father’s business”—she places her hand in mine and gives me a reassuring squeeze—“but why did you get into farming?”

Good question.

I think back to two years ago when I left The Organization. My father was furious, of course, and wouldn’t get off my back about getting back to work, throwing easy jobs my way. I’d been talking to Dr. Alfie, but after meeting Olivia for the first time and then subsequently learning her schedule, she’d been a regular reminder of how much I wanted my life to change.

Sitting with Alfie in his office, discussing what I was going to do, we’d talked about the sense of urgency I constantly felt. To complete a job for my father, to get answers out of someone, to get money out of someone, it was all urgent, urgent, urgent—all the time.

And when he asked how I felt each time I sat in Squeezethe Day, I told him I felt calm and peaceful. I’d sit and drink the awful coffee, and I’d subtly watch Olivia read her book for an hour. She rarely did anything else; she never spent time on her phone. It was almost like decompression time for her, a time to escape reality into whatever she was reading. She’d always looked so at ease.

It’s odd that now that I know her better, I realize she has been struggling so much. Looking after her brother, building her business. Yet, she has better coping mechanisms than me, a fully grown man.

“I wanted to watch something grow,” I finally say.

Her smile stretches ear to ear, but she dips her head to hide it. I can’t work out why, and then she whispers something equally confusing.

“You’re a good man, Austin Black.” Her palm cradles my cheek, and she drops the lightest of kisses against my lips.

My eyes prick, and is it hot in here? Something must be off with the temperature control.

“I...” My brow furrows. My shirt suddenly clings tightly around my neck, and I swallow down words of dismissal or self-deprecation. “Thank you.”

She smiles again, but this time, she doesn’t hide it. Taking my hand, we walk along a new aisle.

“So, you can grow everything year round?”

“Yes, everything is temperature controlled, so there’s no seasons to worry about. We even started experimenting with fruit.”

“Really? Like what?”

“We've been growing strawberries for the last six months. They’ve done surprisingly well, although they take significantly longer to grow than the leafy greens. I’m not sure they’ll be profitable until we grow them on a larger scale. But that means more space, and we can’t get that until they start selling, so it’s a catch-22.”

She nods, but before we can discuss further, Luca’s ringtone interrupts us.

“Luca,” I say, picking off a strawberry that’s ready to eat and feeding it to Olivia. Her lips wrap around the sweet red berry as the juice squeezes out. My dick throbs watching her pointed tongue lick a stray drop from her lip.

“Boss, we’re headed back now. We’re around thirty minutes away.”

“Hey, boss,” I hear Danny’s voice in the background.