Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
“Uh, I’m here to see Asher Wild.”
I lean against the open door. “That’s me.”
She grits her teeth. “Right, well, I’m Madelyn Weston. I’m here for the farm labor position.”
As an afterthought, she holds her hand out for me to shake. I shouldn’t do it, I know I shouldn’t, but I reach out and wrap my big hand around her smaller one. The feel of her smooth fingers against my rougher ones has me holding her hand a little tighter.
Before I can make a fool of myself, I release her hand, and she holds it against her chest, over her heart. I told myself I wouldn’t, but I look her up and down again. I take in her expensive jeans, boots, manicured hands, and flawless skin. I step out onto the porch, and she backs away the closer I get. After glancing into the driveway and seeing the high-dollar Bentley, I know she’s in the wrong place, even though she doesn’t know it yet. I cross my arms over my chest. “There’s been a mistake.”
She puts a hand on her shapely hip. “What do you mean?”
Instead of irritating me with her sass, it makes me enamored with her even more. “I mean, I hired a farmer. You don’t look like any farmer I’ve seen before.”
“I have a master’s degree in agriculture management. I’ve spent years learning about everything that happens on a fruit farm. I’ve either volunteered or worked at farms since I graduated high school.”
I run my hand across my chin, “That couldn’t have been that long ago.”
She bristles, causing her cheeks to turn a bright pink. “I’m twenty-eight, but thank you for the compliment.”
I slap a hand on my thigh. “Look, you’re obviously qualified because Chief Taylor wouldn’t have recommended you if you weren’t. But the position has been filled.”
Her mouth drops. “Filled?”
Before I can admit to her I’m lying, I bite my lip and say nothing.
She blows out a breath, “Look, I came a really long way to get here. Can I come inside so we can at least talk?” She pauses and must realize that I’m about to tell her no because she blinks her long lashes at me and pleads, “Please.”
Fuck, there’s no way I can say no to that. I walk back to the door, push it open, and hold it open for her. “Come on in.”
She walks in, and I follow behind her. I avert my eyes from what I know is going to be a shapely ass in tight blue jeans and walk past her. “We can talk here in the office.”
I stop on the other side of my desk and then gesture to the seat across from me, making sure to put the big wood desk and some distance between us. She’s looking around the office, and I take the opportunity to look at her. My first assessment still rings true. Madelyn Weston doesn’t belong here.
I gesture to the chair closest to her. “Have a seat.”
Once she sits down, I do the same.
She’s sitting on the edge of her seat. “Mr. Wild.”
“Asher,” I correct her.
“Asher,” she says, and the sound of my name rolling off her tongue sends a vibration through my body. I do my best to ignore it. “Chief Taylor assured me that I had the position. Did he lie to me?”
I take a deep breath. It’s tempting to say yes, just so she’ll leave and take it up with him, but I can’t do that. “No, he was told that you had a job here.”
She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “I’m a hard worker. I have impeccable references. I can make a difference here, I know I can.”
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my seat. “Do you know what this job consists of? Do you know you’ll get dirty? Heck, you might even ruin your pretty clothes.”
She pulls at the collar of her shirt. “I was trying to make a good first impression, but I understand now that you might have been more impressed if I came in here with dirt under my nails and on my face.” She huffs her breath and shakes her head. “Look, Asher, I’m not sure what I did to rub you the wrong way this morning, but I have work clothes, and I’m not afraid to get dirty. Actually, I prefer it.”
My hands tighten into fists. The very last thing I need to be thinking about right now is Madelyn “dirty” or rubbing me any kind of way.
She stands up, crosses her arms over her chest, and pushes her breasts up in the process. “Look, I’m good at what I do.”
I’m saved from answering when the screen door slams, and I hear Beau hollering through the house, “Ash, whose Bentley is that in the driveway?”
He comes to a halt as he passes the office door and stares at Madelyn before coming into the office. I jump out of my chair and come around the desk, cutting him off. Stunned, he almost plows into me and says, “Well, hello—”