Page 22 of The Back Forty (Whitewood Creek Farm #5)

“Final round of interviews,” my solo friend Lydia says with a grin, nudging me lightly as she settles into the chair beside mine in the office space that we’re borrowing from Colt within the Whitewood Creek Distillery offices.

I nod, shifting the final two resumes in my lap.

We’ve been through dozens, but these are the ones me and the girls managed to narrow down during our speed-round interviews last week before I flew off to Texas.

Two strong contenders remain to take over my old role, Luca and Edgar, and today there's just Lydia here with me to make it official.

Luca's a recent grad from a nearby community college. Eager, fresh-faced, and hungry to build a life in Whitewood Creek. He practically buzzed with energy last time we spoke as he shared about small town living and his dreams of getting some animals and a hobby farm someday to raise a family.

Edgar, on the other hand, is already established, two years into his marketing career, based in the city of Charlotte.

He’s polished and professional, but he made it clear: he’s not interested in moving.

He’d commute, if necessary, which is tempting, sure, but I know Lawson.

I know how much he values presence, connection, the whole small-town heartbeat and living in the place where their businesses are located.

And something tells me a long-distance employee, even if they’re a great one, wouldn’t sit well with him.

Which is probably why, in my gut, I’ve already picked Luca for the job however, we’ve still got to finish the process.

Edgar’s follow-up interview is first. Since he’s not local, we’re doing it virtually versus asking him to make the two hour commute into town again.

Lydia powers up the TV in the corner of Colt’s office and within seconds, his face fills the screen.

“Hi there,” Edgar says, all charm, as he adjusts his camera and gives us a corporate smile.

We go through the motions. Small talk, resume clarifications, a few tailored questions about his thoughts on marketing not just eggs and brews, but weddings—Regan’s growing side of the business that launched at the Mayberry Manor property she owns last year.

He answers well. Polished. Rehearsed. I double-check his willingness to travel occasionally and remind him we’ll be making a decision by end of day.

When the call ends, Lydia turns toward me with a look that’s half amusement, half relief. “He’s nice,” she says, “but I think Luca's a better fit. Plus, he’s way more attractive.”

I snort. “Since when do you care about that?”

She shrugs, trying to hide her grin. “Since me and Michael broke up.”

That stops me for a beat. Lydia’s always been the most private one in our friend group.

I didn’t even know she was dating until I saw her at the coffee shop a few months ago with a tall guy with bright red hair, and even then, she barely offered more than a shrug and a name.

Apparently, that guy had been her sort of, casual boyfriend of the past six months.

“Well, you should ask Luca if he’s single,” I tease. “Just maybe not during the interview.”

She smirks and leans back in her chair just as a knock sounds at the door.

“Come in!” I call out.

The door swings open and in walks Luca, looking sharp in a tailored navy suit with a matching tie.

His dark blonde hair is freshly cut and styled, and I can tell he's taking this as seriously as I’d hoped.

There’s a spark in his green eyes and a hint of nerves in the way he adjusts his grip on the leather portfolio in his hand.

“Great to see you again, Dani,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand. His grip is firm, warm, and confident in that eager-to-please way that makes you want to root for him. I remember how I felt fresh out of school, interviewing for my first big job in sales. It can be overwhelming.

He turns to Lydia and shakes hers too, remembering her name. “Nice to see you again as well, Lydia.”

I gesture to the seat across from Colt’s desk. “Make yourself comfortable and we'll jump right in.”

He settles in, visibly trying to calm his nerves, and I appreciate the effort. There’s something earnest about him. No polished performance, no buzzword bingo. Just a guy who wants a shot.

Lawson will appreciate that attitude, too.

“So,” I begin, resting his resume gently on the desk, “we covered your education and background last time, but I want to reconfirm a few things. To start, your willingness to relocate to Whitewood Creek permanently, your flexibility with travel, and how soon you’d be able to start if offered the role. ”

He straightens a little, nodding. “Absolutely. I’ve already started looking into apartments in town, and I can be ready to go within two weeks. Sooner if needed.”

I glance at Lydia, who arches a brow and offers the smallest, most unhelpful smirk. She likes him and my gut has already decided.

“That’s great to hear,” I say, making a note beside his name.

“And what about travel? Most of our pitches are out of town and occasionally, you may need to tag along to support Lawson and me.

I can't say what the percentage of time would be since Lawson's made it clear that he'll continue to handle that for now, but I want to be sure you're willing and able to step in if needed.”

“That's not a problem,” Luca says quickly. “Honestly, that’s one of the things that excited me most about the job. I like being out in the field, talking to people. I think that’s where the best marketing happens, on the ground, not behind a screen.”

Lydia lets out a quiet hmm beside me, which I know means she’s impressed but trying not to show it too much.

I lean forward a little, resting my forearms on the desk. “Alright. Last thing. Why Whitewood Creek? You said you were open to relocating, but I’m curious. What’s the draw for you?”

He nods. “I grew up in a small town. I temporarily enrolled in school in a city and ended up transferring to a smaller school nearby because I missed the home feeling I get when the city isn’t so crowded.

When I came out here for our first interview, I walked down Main Street and it just…

clicked. I could see myself living here.

Building something. Knowing my neighbors.

I don’t know, it just felt right. I can't explain it, but it feels like I'm meant to live here.” He shrugs like maybe that was too much, but I get it.

I had the same exact feeling when I first moved here after leaving California.

Something about the town pulls you in and speaks of new beginnings.

I glance at Lydia, who gives a tiny nod, like we’re in some unspoken agreement.

“Well,” I say, standing and smoothing down the front of my skirt, “I think that’s everything I needed to hear.”

Luca stands too, just slightly awkward in a way that reminds me he’s still new at this but will do his best.

“I’d like to offer you the position,” I say, extending my hand again. “You'll be my sales and marketing assistant for the egg division, distillery and wedding partnership. We’d love to have you join the team.”

His eyes widen, then crinkle with a smile as he shakes my hand. “Seriously? Thank you! Wow. I'm so excited to get started. I won't let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” I say, meaning it.

Lydia stands as well, offering her own congratulations as I glance at the clock on the wall.

“I’ve got a few more things to wrap up this afternoon, but how about we meet up tonight to go over onboarding details, next steps, and first day plans?”

He smiles. “That sounds great.”

“Say… six-thirty? At the Whitewood Creek Brewery? I'll grab us a table.”

“Perfect,” he says, smile still stretching wide across his face. “Thanks again, Dani.”

As he heads out the door, Lydia turns to me with a little sideways grin. “You’re glowing.”

“I am not.”

“You are . And for the record,” she says, already pulling out her phone and scrolling through text messages, “if you’re not gonna ask him out, I might.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t argue. Because it’s ridiculous.

Luca wasn’t flirting with me. Okay, maybe he smiled a little too long, but it’s because he was excited about the job.

And even if he was flirting a little, it doesn’t matter.

I’m five years older than him with much more life and experience.

I'm not interested in dating younger. I need mature.

And besides, sadly for my poor, traitorous heart, there’s only one small-town guy I’m interested in. The one who’s permanently ruined me for every other man.

My boss.

Ugh.

The one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all day.

The one who was as steady as they come while I spiraled in front of him.

Who held me when I was barely holding onto my sanity.

Who saw me in a moment so raw, so terrifying, most people would freak out and dial 9-1-1 so that they didn’t have to do it alone.

My first panic attack in over a year, and he was there—steady, solid, and silent in all the right ways.

I’m glad he hasn’t brought it up, hasn’t pushed or pried. But still, the shame clings to me like smoke. What if he sees me differently now? As fragile. Unreliable. Someone who could spiral at any moment and jeopardize everything he’s built. Embarrass him at one of the most crucial moments.

I shake the thought off and gather the paperwork, organizing Luca's files to send over to Regan so she can start processing him in the family’s HR system. My fingers are still on the keyboard when the door creaks open again and in enters the man I was just thinking about.

Heat, regret, and a heartbeat that skips when it shouldn’t fill my soul.

Lawson steps inside, easy and quiet like always, but my skin reacts instantly.

Flushed and hot. Like it’s too tight for my body.

I don’t dare look at him too long. Not with Lydia sitting right beside me.

Unfortunately, Lydia is the opposite of subtle.

“Oh, hey Lawson! Did you see the new guy Dani just hired? Super - hot, right?”

His gaze doesn’t even flick toward her. It stays locked on me.

Or through me, maybe. I can’t tell. But I stand anyway and force a smile, because this doesn’t have to be weird us seeing each other again.

I mean, we sat next to each other on the flight home for hours and did crosswords like he hadn't seen me naked in a tub.

This is fine. Luca's qualified. He’s capable. He’ll be a great fit, and that’s all this is about. It was a work decision and a damn smart one if he asks me.

“Yeah,” Lawson says. “I passed him on my way in here.”

“He’s the best fit for the job,” I say quickly like I have something to explain. Which I don’t. I’ve never felt like I needed to justify my decisions to him before, so why do I feel it now?

He nods once slowly. “I don’t doubt that.” Then softer, more intimate, “I trust you, Dani.”

And just like that, I’m undone. Because the way he says it, it doesn’t feel like he’s just talking about hiring decisions.

It feels like a promise. Like his trust is something rare and precious, not handed out lightly, and here he is, giving it to me easily.

It feels like an honor to receive it from him.

“You have dinner plans?” he asks, gaze still steady on me, not wavering for even a second.

“Um, yeah. Meeting up with Luca at the brewery.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and try to sound breezy. “Just to go over onboarding stuff and what I’d like him to start working on when he begins working next week.”

His jaw tightens. Barely. But I see it. I always notice it.

It’s the kind of micro-expression that you wouldn't catch unless you’ve been watching someone for a long time.

And I have. For a year. I've learned all his little ticks.

His tells. And I hate that I've stored them all in my heart like treasure.

“Are you going too?” he asks Lydia, finally turning to acknowledge her.

She waves a hand. “Nah, I think I’ll sit this one out. But hey, what’s your policy for dating employees?” She laughs like it’s nothing, like she didn’t just light a match and toss it directly into the tension-filled room.

Lawson doesn’t hesitate. “It’s not allowed.” His voice is sharp and final and there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before.

Lydia blinks, taken aback. “Oh. Uh, too bad, Dani. But if you’re feeling generous later, maybe drop my name and number to him?” She slips out before I can respond, clearly not reading the room, or maybe she's choosing not to.

Now it’s just me and Lawson and the air feels awkward.

“Did he hit on you?” he asks quietly, eyes still on me like he can’t look away.

I shake my head. “No, of course not.”

He nods, runs a hand along the edge of his jaw like he’s thinking hard. Debating something. For a moment, I consider offering to show him Luca's resume to reassure him, but I stop myself. Because he said he trusts me. And I want to believe that means something.

“Alright then,” Lawson says after a beat. “You two have fun. Let me know if you need anything from me.”

Then he turns and walks out, his boots quiet against the old wood floor, not offering me another glance.

And somehow, the confusing tension between us feels even worse.