Page 42

SAWYER

“That is not a pancake!”

I bite back a laugh—or at least I try—because right now, laughing would be the worst thing I could do. If only it were that easy.

Because Anton’s right. That’s not a pancake. Or at least not any pancake. That is Captain America’s shield in pancake form.

“Sure it is,” Dolly says sweetly. “Syrup?”

She holds up the small syrup carafe, showing off her sparkly engagement ring, an impish grin tugging at the corner of her lips. I think she might be having as much fun with this as Hux is.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Anton mutters. “I’m gonna be here all night.”

“That’s the idea,” Hux says. “And don’t worry, you’ll get the utilities bill for the day too.”

Anton mumbles something else under his breath—something I’m sure includes a few choice words—and I kick him gently under the table, giving him a stop it look. Sighing, he does as I silently ask, picking up his fork and digging in .

“Eat up!” Dolly cheers, before disappearing back into the diner’s kitchen.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“To be fair, you didn’t really have much choice,” I say, sipping my coffee.

My tummy grumbles and I consider sneaking a piece of the ginormous pancake, but opt to wait until Anton has made a bigger dent in it.

Don’t want Hux to accuse him of cheating.

“But, I do think this was pretty clever on Hux’s part. ”

Of all the brothers, we knew that Hux would take collecting his winnings the most serious. After all, he’d kept a running list of ideas all summer just in case. When we walked into the wedding, there was no hiding the conflicted look on his face.

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you,” Hux had said while giving me a hug that night. “I am. I like having you as part of this family. I just also…”

“Really wanted to win this and rub it in Anton’s face?” I finished for him.

“You have no idea.”

For a split second I felt bad about bursting his bubble. At least until the rest of the Hayes family showed up and the brotherly dynamic took another turn when they all took Hux’s side, saying that I hadn’t arrived by the agreed-upon point of no return. A point I was unaware had existed.

It required a judge’s ruling to settle the debate that had lasted all through Sunday dinner and well into Munch the next day.

Ever the dad, Auggie ruled in favor of the many, I think in no small part as penance for how Anton reacted to the trees being moved. Anton took it in stride, accepting defeat, ready for whatever they threw at him. Well, almost ready.

“If every pancake is this size…” Anton says, taking another bite .

“Is Dolly really going to keep this place open for twenty-four hours, just so you can sit here?” I ask.

I’m just as skeptical now as I was when Hux laid out the requirement—spend twenty-four hours in an all-night diner, but he could shave off an hour for every pancake he eats.

The additional condition was added that he could do this at Dolly’s, instead of a random all-night establishment, if he was willing to pay for any extra hours she had to be open, on top of whatever he was eating.

Anton jumped at the chance to do it at Dolly’s, rather than drive to one of the places in Tifton.

But something told me then that these two had a trick up their sleeves.

Looking at the size of that pancake, I’m starting to think Waffle House might have been the better option.

“I think she’s going to take great pleasure in it.”

“Well, then this is where we’ll spend our Saturday.”

Anton looks at me, his ice-blue eyes making me melt as they hold on to mine, that damn smirk of his taking root at the same time.

It’s been a month since the wedding, and he’s still too damn good-looking for his own good.

That probably won’t ever change, but if there is one thing I’ve figured out, it’s that somehow, Anton Hayes makes everything right with my world. Even when he’s turning it upside down.

And turn it upside down is exactly what he’s done.

To be fair, not all on his own. The selection committee throwing us all a curve ball and opting to hire someone from outside the organization certainly contributed.

No one in my department—or any of the others—saw that one coming.

That decision did leave me feeling slightly better that at least I didn’t lose out to Will Nedens.

It also made it a lot easier to walk away when Auggie and Gus approached me with a contract to come work for Hayes. For reasons other than just Anton.

“Besides,” I continue. “When you’re done with this, you’ll be halfway done. Just a weekend of dish duty at Pour Decisions for Milo and then furniture shopping in a Speedo for Jace.”

“You forgot the whipped-cream bikini.” I spin around, looking up at Gus, his own trademark Hayes smirk shining back at us. “That’s quite the pancake there.”

“It’s delicious; thank you for asking!” Anton sasses.

“Whipped-cream bikini?” I repeat, still stuck on that key piece of information I missed.

“Hey y’all,” Margeaux greets. “Holy pancake…”

Anton makes a face, clearly already over everyone commenting on the size of the carbohydrate delight in front of him. I bite down on my lip, trying not to laugh. Seriously, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

“Yup,” Gus confirms, sliding into the booth next to his brother. I scoot in so Margeaux can join me, waiting on the rest of this story. “That’s my collection. Anton has to recreate the whipped-cream bikini from Varsity Blues for the next Hayes state of the business meeting.”

“Oh my God,” I exclaim, clasping my hands over my mouth.

“I had no idea what he was talking about, so Gus made me watch the movie,” Margeaux says, leaning in so that she doesn’t have to admit that too loudly. “I’m not entirely sure how they’re going to pull it off, but…”

She grits her teeth, giving me a look that says exactly what I’m thinking—that this has the potential to go very, very wrong. But also to be absolutely hilarious. Poor Anton.

“I was going to make him do it at Rhythm and Brews, but then Ewan stole that with his.”

“Which, oh my gosh, did I send you the photo I got?” Margeaux ask.

“No!”

Pulling out her phone, Margeaux starts to laugh, and I look over at Anton.

He simply shakes his head, turning his focus back to his breakfast, owning his own embarrassment.

I can’t help but fall for him a little more, taking this all in stride as his brothers set out to do whatever they can to get back at him for years of poking at them.

“Here.”

She hands me her phone, and I gasp. Perfectly framed, the bright blue sky behind him, is Anton, smiling as proud as a peacock, collection can in hand, wearing a homemade sandwich sign reading “saving for a penis enlargement.” Laughter bubbles up inside me, and this time I know there is no holding it back.

Because if ever there was a picture that screamed Anton, it’s this one.

Every single inch of the silly, instigating, sweet, caring, agriculture nerd I’ve fallen head over heels for.

“I made damn good money, thank you,” Anton adds, his mouth full of food. “Hayes Cares got quite the donation thanks to that.”

Because yes, Anton refused to keep the money. Even though there wasn’t a stipulation about what needed to be done with whatever was put into his collection can, my man opted to give it all to the charitable arm of the company.

“It’s perfect,” I tell her through my laughter. “Can we get it printed? I want to frame it.”

“Absolutely! Hell, I’ll put it on the Christmas card.”

“We’re not putting it on the Christmas card,” Gus says, his face as serious as they come. “I’m still impressed Ewan came up with that though.”

“Psssh, that stunt had Emily Barrowcliff written all over it,” Anton tells him.

“She’s the sweet, strawberry blonde that he was with at the wedding, right?” I ask, making sure I have all the players correct.

Margeaux nods. “Yup, she’s actually Dolly’s cousin. She and Ewan have been…“hanging out” since the wedding.” She overemphasizes her air quotes, waggling her eyebrows to get her message across.

“Ewan and Emily Barrowcliff?” Gus chokes out, as if this is the first he’s hearing of it. To be fair, it’s the first I’m hearing of it too, but it means far less to me.

“Well, that’s a pair…” Anton mutters. “No one tell Maisey…”

“Who’s Maisey?” I ask.

“Hey!” Dolly says, sidling back up to us, my unanswered question disappearing into the air. “Y’all eating? Anton, ready for another?”

“Bring it on, Doll!” he tells her.

“No, we just stopped by to witness this .” Gus jerks a thumb toward his brother.

Five minutes later, we’re by ourselves again—Gus and Margeaux having headed out to the farmers’ market—the next round of Captain America’s shield-sized pancakes delivered, overhanging the plate it rests on, taunting Anton.

“So, I was thinking,” Anton says casually, as if he was picking the conversation back up where we left off. Except, I don’t remember what we were talking about before his brother showed up.

“About?”

“Next weekend.”

Next weekend. Also known as moving day. Accepting the job with Hayes was a no-brainer, but it did require a move to Hickory Hills.

Also a decision that required little to no thought from me, other than the logistics behind it all.

Breaking my lease, packing up my apartment, and then figuring out where exactly I was going to live in Hickory Hills took some doing, but nothing I couldn’t juggle.

Especially since I had time on my hands after giving my notice to the ag department .

“Should be relatively straightforward. Pretty much everything is boxed up and ready to go, other than the few things I’ve needed for daily use. I’ve got it all sorted with what is going into storage, which is pretty much everything, and then the few things that will come with me to your parents’.”

“Yeah, about that…”

My stomach lurches, trepidation instantly taking over.

About what? Miss Belle didn’t skip a beat in insisting that I move back in with them when I signed on with Hayes, telling me that she wouldn’t dream of me staying anywhere else until either there was an open spot for me at Hayes House once the seasonal workers vacated in a few weeks or there was something else in town.

Maybe that was it. Maybe there was an open apartment for me at Hayes House.

Margeaux had lived there when she first moved to town, so it’s possible whichever unit she was in is available again, which would be nice.

That would mean that I was still on the Hayes estate—so close enough to Anton and work—but not at his parents’ house.

There is only so much privacy to be had in that house.

“Anton, whatever it is, just say it.”

“What if you didn’t move into Magnolia Manor?”

Errrr….what?!

I blink, slowly, trying to process his question. Because it leaves me with a whole bunch more.

“Then where would I go? Or are you saying I should unpack my things?”

“Anton House.”

Anton House. As in the small, historic farmhouse he lives in.

My heart stops. Partially out of shock, partially, I think, out of kindness, in giving my brain a chance to catch up. Because I think Anton is asking me to move in with him.

I think .

“As in the house you live in?” I choke out, realizing just how stupid that sounds as I say it.

Anton chuckles. “I know it’s fast. But I made the mistake before of not being open and communicating what I want.

So this is me telling you what I want. And that is you moving into my place, with me.

Because as much fun as sneaky, childhood-bedroom sex is, repeated walks of shame in front of my mama negate that real quick. ”

I stare back at him, stunned. More than that, overwhelmed by all the emotions taking over—fear, happiness, but most of all love. As in, I’m so head over heels in love with him it’s not funny.

So I sputter out the only word I can manage.

“Yes.”

“Please don’t think it’s just about sex; it’s not. Well, not just about that. You’ll be surrounded by the peanut fields to play in. And I want our life together to start now—adventures in the kitchen, and watching movies, and waking up next to you every morning and ow!”

I pull back my leg from kicking his shin, the same stop it look returning to my face. “Stop talking. I already said yes.”

“I like it when you get all bossy.”

He smirks again, shoving food into his mouth. I laugh, my heart feeling like it could explode.

“Good, then eat faster, because now I want to do things to you that I’m pretty sure would get Dolly shut down by the health department.”

Anton waggles his eyebrows, fire flashing in his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” He winks. “Dolly, I’m gonna need more pancakes!”