Page 37

SAWYER

“Moved them?”

Anton repeats my words, like I didn’t already just say it twice. I hold my ground, ready to say it a third time if I need to. But something tells me it’s starting to sink in.

“You fucking moved them?”

Or, maybe not.

“Do I need to say it again?” I don’t bother to hold back any kind of attitude. If he’s going to come at me like a raging bull, then I will not hesitate to play matador. “Or have you comprehended the meaning of the words?”

Anton’s face turns hard, eyes going dark, but not in the same way they did last night. No, this is different. Where last night they were filled with desire and fun and adoration, this is the opposite. This is cold, harsh, and unfeeling.

“No, I got that part. What I don’t got is what the fuck you were thinking!”

What the fuck I was thinking? Excuse me?

Indignation rises in me like the waves at high tide, and it takes everything I have not to scream right back at him. One of us has to remain calm though. Or should at least try. And it appears that one is going to be me.

“It was required for the tests I needed to run,” I explain.

“The fuck it was!”

He steps in closer, skirting around the small table where the dominos sit, stopping right in front of me.

The lab table between us isn’t more than a couple of feet wide, but right now, it feels like the Grand Canyon.

Then again, given our heightened emotions, the safety barrier is probably a good idea.

“And how would you know? Were you here? No, you weren’t,” I counter. “So you don’t know what I was looking at, what my hypothesis was, and why I made the choice that I did. So that I could run the tests that I need, to then hopefully prove it all out.”

“Doesn’t matter if I was here or not.” He sighs heavily, voice strained, yet perfectly even. “ You dug up trees .”

“So what?”

“So what? So…what?” A vein appears on the side of his neck, clear even through the second-day scruff he hasn’t had a chance to take care of.

Scruff that under another circumstance, I’d be starting to wonder how it would feel against my cheek.

“Trees aren’t meant to be disturbed. Something you should know, as a soil expert. ”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that once or twice,” I sass, unable to help myself. I take a step back, needing to move, to put a little more space between us. “But I also know it’s not impossible. And I needed to test a theory.”

“So you just went ahead and risked killing an entire section of my grove?”

I balk, his accusation stinging deep. The fact that he would think that I would recklessly do such a thing. At this point, he should know me better than that. He should also remember his own directives .

“You told me that I had free rein to do as I needed.”

“Not that free!”

Not that free. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Free rein means free rein . Unless somehow Hayes has a different definition of it.”

Anton scoffs. “The Hayes definition doesn’t include putting crops at risk!”

“I didn’t put them at risk!” I exclaim, throwing my arms out wide. “I followed protocol, moved them, and got initial samples I needed. And planned on getting more this afternoon.”

“All behind my back.”

Seriously? What the fuck. He has to be joking. None of this was done behind his back. None of it.

“Behind your back? Anton, you told me I had free rein! Not to mention, I tried to tell you last night. Remember when I said, ‘ I did a thing ’? Oh wait, maybe you don’t because while you told me you couldn’t wait to hear about it, you never did ask.

Maybe because you were too busy fighting with your sister over a damn seating chart. ”

“You didn’t exactly bring it up again either,” he says. “And I didn’t hear you complaining about how last night went.”

Flashes of red cloud my vision, my fists balling by my side as my anger rises.

Anton looks perfectly calm, other than the vein still pulsing on his neck.

Maybe it’s somehow related to his love of pushing other people’s buttons that he’s learned to remain even-keeled himself, but I have to admit, it’s unnerving. Especially given how cold his eyes are.

“That’s low.”

“Not as low as you messing with our trees.”

“I didn’t mess with your trees! For the last fucking time!” I stomp my foot down hard, like a horse getting ready to rear backward. “And what did you expect me to do when you said I had free rein? Just sit here? ”

“You should have stayed in the lab, Sawyer,” Anton accuses. The jab pierces straight through me, like a dagger to my heart. I steel myself, not letting it show how much it hurt. That it might be the deepest anyone has ever cut me. Until he continues. “You think you know better than everyone.”

“Because I do.”

“But you don’t! You know lab tests and bar charts and numbers. You don’t actually know the real part of any of this. Just the theoretical. And because of that, I’ve lost two years’ worth of growth. All for your inconclusive tests.”

I reel back, tears stinging my eyes. I want to reply—to bite back something equally as harsh and hurtful.

Something that will cut him to the point of wanting to double over in pain.

But I can’t. Mostly because I can’t form the words, my throat so dry it feels like someone shoved a wad of cotton down it.

“Inconclusive?” Cary’s voice cuts through the air, pulling both my and Anton’s attention toward the lab door. “I thought you needed to go back out today before you could fully compare.”

“So you did know,” Anton says, turning on his best friend.

“Is this the it you were asking about?” Cary asks, hitching a thumb over his shoulder toward the greenhouse.

“Then yeah, I knew. Sawyer called from the sapling grove and I walked her through how to do what she needed to with as little damage as possible. Told her to make sure Calvin and Jorge were with her, since they were the ones who could operate the machinery and would know where in the auxiliary greenhouse to put the saplings.”

I put my hands on my hips, glaring at Anton, holding in my “told you so.” Which isn’t easy right now. Because I know more than he thinks I do. I also wouldn’t dare risk hurting the crops, Hayes, or him. Especially him .

“It was just the one section of the front corner there,” Cary continues. “That was the safest space to disturb without disrupting the majority of the trees. It looks worse than it is.”

Cary’s assessment doesn’t seem to assuage Anton’s ire. My eyes flick back and forth between the two, the swapping of roles between them more than a little off-putting. Watching Cary being the more laid-back one while Anton is uptight and up in arms is…well…not good. Alarming even.

Even if it is proving that I’m not the one in the wrong here.

“See, I know more than you think,” I jab back. It lacks conviction and the same poison that Anton lobbed at me, but it’s something.

Cary looks between us, the tension so thick you’d need a jackhammer to break it, and nods as he slowly backs out of the lab.

“I’ll leave y’all to it.”

Neither of us moves, letting the silence hang heavy in the air, the metal of the door clanging against the jamb as it closes behind Cary.

I’m too afraid to move, to say something, not having any idea where we stand.

What any of this means. A part of me wants to rage and scream at Anton for thinking any of this, for coming in here and accusing me.

While another part wants to run into his arms and cry, stay there until everything is okay.

It’s the second part that worries me the most.

“Told you I didn’t put them at risk,” I finally say, breaking the silence.

“Doesn’t change anything,” he replies, teeth gritted.

What? I blink hard, trying to figure out what on earth he means by that. How he could still be convinced otherwise.

“What are you saying?”

“Just that it makes me wonder if I made a mistake in trusting you. In letting you into Hayes and messing with our product. ”

The pain in his voice is crystal clear. The anguish that only comes with deep-rooted distress over something you love. Love more than anything else.

Because Anton loves those trees more than anything else.

More than he could ever love anything else. They’re his life. He outright told me that. It’s why he doesn’t date—because he will never love a woman the way he loves the three Ps.

That’s when it hits me. This isn’t about the trees. At least, not just about the trees. It’s about the fact that I messed with his world. With what he loves the most.

My stomach lurches, that realization sinking in deeper.

Everything between us these last few weeks was a lie.

No, not a lie. But still not real. All his charm, and charisma, and all those “you’re my girls”—they were nothing more than Mr. Too good-looking for his own good fruit-stand guy putting the moves on another girl.

Because that’s all I was—this year’s summer fling. A distraction from the worst peach season since 1954.

Until I went a step too far and believed him. Believed that what we had was real. That it went beyond that agreement we made and could maybe even have a future. That was my fault. I got too wrapped up in it. Let my walls down.

Well, it’s time to build them back up.

“No, I think it was me who made the mistake in trusting you .”

To my surprise, my voice doesn’t waver. It’s as strong and steady as it’s ever been. Thank goodness.

Slamming my laptop shut, I grab my bag and shove it inside, giving the counter a quick once-over to make sure there isn’t anything else I need to take with me. There isn’t. I’ve kept this workspace pretty minimal, not wanting to overstep my boundaries. Small mercies.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, hardening myself as much as possible.

I can break later. I will break later. When I’m on the phone with Eliza, pouring out all the things that I can’t say out loud right now.

Like how I had fallen for this man harder than I thought.

How he’s made me believe that my future could look different than I expected and made me start to rethink everything I thought I wanted.

And how now I don’t know that I will ever recover from this.

“I’ll make sure that Cary gets a copy of my final report and all the results from the tests I ran this summer,” I say, making my way toward the door. “And if you need someone to interpret them, don’t call me.”

Anton remains silent, letting me walk out of the lab. A move that tells me everything I need to know. Gone is the happy-go-lucky, golden retriever of a man I met a few weeks ago when I first walked in here. He’s been replaced with someone I don’t recognize. Someone I don’t want to know.

Someone who broke my heart.

None of that matters now though. I need to focus on my future. Which doesn’t include Hayes or Hickory Hills. I need to pack my shit and get back to Atlanta. Back to what really matters. Now I simply have a new goal to add to my list.

Forget Anton Hayes.