Page 12 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

My intention was to take my time, but the butterflies (I see them as pink and purple and maybe even with some glitter thrown in there) are causing havoc in my stomach, keeping me on edge and rushing to finish.

My brain may tell me I want him to be gone, but the dopamine-laced butterflies racing around my insides know this is a lie.

I can’t get ready fast enough in hopes that I get to see him again.

The first thing I notice once I’ve toweled off and slipped into my robe is that it’s quiet.

The new friends in my stomach start to slowly float away since the silence most likely means he’s gone.

Bummed as I may be, I still keep replaying our interaction in the front window over and over, finding it hard not to smile at myself while doing my makeup.

I’m just about to turn on the blow dryer when I freeze. Hearing what sounds like the barking of a dog coming from the backyard.

Holy crap.

That sounded like Lou.

Was that Lou?

Is he still here?

No way!

I run out of the bathroom like a woman with my hair on fire so I can look out the kitchen window, and sure enough, there they are. Two of the most handsome bachelors of Eastlyn, Oregon.

Lou is up on his back legs going crazy over something up one of the giant pine trees in the backyard, doing what dogs do, but his daddy has just dropped a big bag of soil on the ground and is using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing his stomach.

Oh. My. Goodness.

The six-pack.

The V.

The way his jeans …

Oh, snap. I’ve been busted.

The arrogant smile gracing his lips says he knows I was looking, and not only was I looking but I clearly like what I see.

Shit!

Still behaving like a preteen, I run out of the room with my face on fire this time and slam the bathroom door behind me, hiding from the hot jock who caught me staring.

I am such an idiot.

This time, I actually do take my time blowing out my hair and getting dressed.

Heading back to the kitchen to feed my grumbling stomach, I force myself not to look out back.

But when I see the bottom shelf of the fridge lined with bottles of water, I can’t help but think how thirsty Miles must be out there in the summer heat.

Glancing out the window, it looks like he’s cleaning up, and I begin to panic, thinking he might be leaving when all I’ve done so far today is stare at him through a variety of windows.

I’m pathetic.

I grab two bottles of water and a bowl and take a deep breath before opening the door to the backyard.

“You guys thirsty?” I yell, holding the cold beverages up.

Lou bounds across the yard at full speed, his tail wagging and tongue dangling probably thinking I have a treat of some sort.

A few feet before the shepherd gets to me, Miles yells, “Lou, down!” and just like that, he stops in his tracks and lies down. He’s panting, tongue hanging out, but he’s doing exactly what his daddy told him to do.

I throw one of the ice-cold bottles at his dad, whose long strides have him heading across the grass toward me, and then I put the bowl in front of my new furry friend and fill it for him.

“Here you go, buddy. You’ve been working hard out here, haven’t you?” I say, scratching him behind the ears while he laps up his water.

“Oh, yeah. He’s been workin’ real hard at chasin critters, sniffing the fence line, and peeing everywhere. I swear he never runs out.”

Standing to acknowledge Miles, I make the mistake of turning around just as he lifts his T-shirt again. This time, I’m wise enough to look away the second I get my first glimpse of that V.

I certainly don’t want to be caught drooling again. Man, that was embarrassing. I’m waiting for him to bring it up because I know he will. It’s what he does. He’s just waiting for the right moment to mortify me.

“Thanks for the water.”

“Thanks for all the manual labor. Does Katie know what you’ve been up to?”

“I mentioned some stuff I thought needed to be done after I fixed the board on the porch, and she said she was cool with me working on things.”

“Well, aren’t you a Boy Scout?”

“Truth?” He whispers as though he has a secret the dog can’t hear.

“Uh, okay?”

“Lou wanted a reason to come see you. He thought if we hung around long enough, you’d finally come out and talk to us. Looks like it worked. Smart dog, eh?”

Oh, what this man does to me. I really wish he’d turn his baseball cap around because when he says things like that, and I have full view of his eyes, I don’t stand a chance.

“Lou came up with that all on his own?”

“He’s advanced. What can I say?”

Lou’s up and dripping water all over my feet, so I give him a scratch. “Are you advanced, sweetheart?” I swear the dog smiles back at me. “Of course you are.”

“So, what have you been up to since I saw you last?” he asks.

Surprising myself, I kinda want to show him my pictures from yesterday.

“Wanna see? ”

“Of course!”

His enthusiasm is infectious and has me skipping inside, but then I remember I haven’t invited him in, and when I reach the back door, I see him still standing in the yard with Lou.

“Well, you coming in or what?”

“Honey, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

I beat him in and pop open my laptop at the kitchen table, and before I’m logged in, they’ve joined me inside.

“So, yesterday I spent the first part of my day wandering around town and taking pictures. Pictures inspire me. I usually make a vision board and put it up in my office back home, so I have my inspiration in front of me while I work.”

“Very cool, let’s see what you got here.”

He scoots his chair closer, and I can smell the outdoors, a little bit of sweat, and something else that makes the combination of it all a bit heady.

As we scroll through the pictures, he gives me a brief history of each location and shares some personal stories from his childhood. Not surprisingly, he’s a great storyteller and has me in stitches in one moment and teary-eyed the next.

“I see you have lots of pictures of the Eastlyn Beer Company sign. Any special reason?”

“Well, you already know it’s my favorite beer and can be hard to come by at most places on the East Coast. So, it’s sort of like when you go to New York, you take a picture of the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building. In Philadelphia, you take a picture of the Liberty Bell so…”

“You’re saying Eastlyn Beer is your Liberty Bell?”

“No…well, yes. I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s a landmark that means something to me.

And for some reason, I love the logo. Something about those two empty chairs grabs at me.

I’ve always imagined sitting there with a special someone while we drink our beers.

I don’t know, there’s just something about it.

I kn ow, I know, it’s a beer logo, and it’s a silly thing to be drawn to. ”

He pushes a loose hair behind my ear, and quietly says, “It’s not silly at all. I think it’s kind of beautiful.”

The close proximity and the quiet in his voice are enough to send me into a screaming orgasm all on their own, but with the light touch of his fingers against the side of my face, I’m having to press my thighs together to try to calm the ache he’s causing with no effort at all.

“Mason, let me show you my Eastlyn. If you’re looking for inspiration, we need to get you off Main Street and show you how much more there is to the town.

I have to be in Portland this weekend, and I have meetings I can’t miss most days next week, but I’ll have time between if that works? And next weekend, I’m free.”

“Can I see the farm?”

“You know what, I can do better. How about watching the sun rise over the farm? Tomorrow morning? I can’t spend the whole day, but I’m good until after lunch.”

“Are you sure? If you’re too busy with your meetings, it can wait.”

“Tomorrow, things don’t get started until the afternoon. How about we hang at the farm for a bit, and then we’ll start our tour Monday after I get back?”

“That works for me.”

“I’ll pick you up at ten till five?”

“In the morning?”

“You good with black coffee?”

I nod my reply, wondering if I should rethink our morning excursion. I mean, who gets up that early?

“Good. It’s a date. See you bright and early.”

And just like that, he takes his dog and walks out of the house as though he didn’t just say we were going on a date.

Let the roller coaster ride begin.