A Family After All. Kathy Altman

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СКАЧАТЬ is Wade, anyway?”

      “Home with his wife,” she called after him, her gaze lingering on a very fine rear view. She exhaled, pictured his handsome face and sucked in her bottom lip. What had put that furrow between his brows?

      No matter what was troubling him, she’d only make it worse by letting him do all the work. She pulled her gloves from the back pocket of her jeans. As she stuffed her hands into the scarred leather, a gust of autumn air skated past the pickup, carrying the comforting scents of meadow grass and manure, lifting her bangs off her forehead. Pride surged. She scanned the fields of her Pennsylvania farm, waves of vibrant green lolling under a thin, hazy streak of Lake Erie blue.

      Seth emerged from the barn, one eyebrow lifted. With a squeak Ivy lunged forward and started shoving.

      He leaned an arm on the nearest bale and she noticed his faded navy Henley was ripped at the elbow. “Becky still recovering from her accident?”

      She stopped pushing, flipped her braid back over her shoulder and nodded. “He’s working fewer hours until he’s confident he can leave her on her own.” It was proving to be rough handling Wade’s chores on top of hers, but at this particular moment she was grateful for her farm manager’s absence. It was nice having Seth all to herself.

      Even if they had strayed from their routine. Usually they took their time, engaging in nonstop innuendos and dirty jokes. It was why he always saved her stop for last. They’d end the visit with his asking her out and her asking him to bed. Both knew nothing would come of it. Seth didn’t do casual, so Ivy didn’t do Seth. Because she was all about casual.

      But as much as their sexual standoff frustrated her—and drove her to ride her own fingers almost every night—she looked forward to their time together. He respected her. Challenged her. Cheered her.

      At least he had until today. He was probably just tired. The man worked harder than she did. And he was a single father of two.

      “I’m sorry she’s not doing well.” Seth gripped the twine binding the nearest bale and tugged it toward him. “I’d heard the accident wasn’t serious. Just the one car involved, right?”

      “She broke her collarbone.”

      Ivy must not have managed to keep the cynicism out of her voice, because Seth cocked his head. “And?”

      “And...it’s a collarbone. Collarbones heal.” She wondered at the relief that skated across Seth’s face. Sweet of him to worry about a woman he didn’t even know. “But I think Becky’s gotten used to having Wade around the house. And I think he likes feeling needed.”

      “So a husband misses his wife. What’s wrong with that?”

      “I need him, too,” she said, and cringed at the petulance in her tone.

      Seth dipped his head and looked up through his lashes. Good God, the man had gorgeous eyes. “You’re not thinking about breaking your own collarbone, are you?”

      She rolled her eyes, watched as he hoisted the bale and blurted, “Do you?”

      “Do I what?”

      “Miss your wife?”

      He stopped, adjusted his grip and headed for the barn. “Ex-wife,” she heard him mutter.

      Guess that meant she wouldn’t get an answer. She was still trying to decide whether to press the issue when Seth reappeared. Quickly, she leaned over again and braced her hands on another bale, feeling like a football player performing preseason drills. She slid the bundle over to Seth but didn’t straighten, liking that his face, with its stubbled jaw and concerned expression, was so close to her own.

      “Hey, what’s with the sign?” he asked.

      She knew what he meant. The big fancy Millbrook Dairy Farm sign at the end of the driveway had become the pet project of some smart-ass with artistic skills. He—or she—liked to monkey with the middle word. Currently the sign read Millbrook Funny Farm. The moniker probably had Ivy’s father rolling over in his grave, but it was fairly accurate.

      “I’ve decided to stop wasting energy trying to fix it,” she said. “At least it’s always G-rated. Though I have to admit, I didn’t much like the Fat Farm edition.”

      Seth grunted, took off one glove and freed a hunk of hay. “You got someone seeing to Wade’s work while he’s gone?”

      In her dreams. “Yes.”

      His gaze narrowed. “So you don’t need help picking up the slack?”

      “You offering to stop by more often? Give me a hand when I need it? Or—” she propped her chin in her palm, arched her back and gently swayed her hips, enjoying the stretch of the muscles at the backs of her thighs “—maybe there’s another body part you’d be willing to contribute to the cause.”

      Seth slapped a palm down on the hay bale. “Need to get this inside,” he said.

      His voice carried an edge. She peered at him, watched his gaze flick from her face to the front of the truck, saw the color streak his cheekbones and glanced behind her. Oh. Oh. It wasn’t the front of the truck that had snagged his attention but her reflection in the sliding window. With her chest nearly touching the hay bale and her ass in the air, her position seemed somewhat...suggestive.

      It was affecting him.

      And now it was affecting her.

      She straightened slowly and treated herself to an unhurried inspection of some serious muscles. “You’re looking flushed,” she managed. “Too much sun, I expect. How about a beer?”

      “Love one.” He swallowed and with a tilt of his chin indicated his pickup. “But this thing won’t drive itself.”

      “So stay.”

      “You know that’s not going to happen.”

      Yeah. She did. She shrugged. “Why’re you driving Joe’s truck?”

      “My brakes are shot.”

      “On your pickup?” A curt nod. “You couldn’t use your box truck?”

      “Didn’t have that many deliveries to make. Anyway, the box truck uses too much gas for everyday use.”

      She frowned. “Business okay?”

      “No.”

      Her stomach dropped, but his next words made it clear his “No” had nothing to do with her question.

      He removed his ball cap again. The brown hair plastered to his skull looked black. “We’re not going to just step over this and keep on walking. Not again. We’ve been circling each other for a year. But we both know it’s not going to happen. We want different things. And neither one of us will get it unless we back away from each other.”

      “How do you know I’m not getting it?” she asked archly.

      Her face heated under his steady gaze. “Point is,” he continued, “while we’re doing whatever this СКАЧАТЬ