“I’ll be right back.”

She headed out the door and walked back toward the gardens, trying to recall where she’d seen the tomatoes. She finally remembered, and when she found them, bent over to survey the tomatoes, wanting to make sure she picked only the ripest ones.

When a set of arms went around her waist, she nearly shrieked.

“You’re going to fall face-first into the tomato vines.” Grant flipped her around, and before she could say anything, his mouth came down on hers in a kiss hotter than the steamy weather outside.

They hadn’t had a second alone since they’d left his house, and she had to admit, she’d missed feeling his arms around her, and his lips on hers. She leaned into him and tangled her fingers into his hair, enjoying the heat of his body and the taste of his tongue licking against hers. The feel of his hand sliding down her back to cup her butt only intensified her need for him.

Until someone cleared their throat. “Aren’t you a little old to be making out behind the tomato patch, Grant?”

Grant broke the kiss and shot a glare at Tucker. “Aren’t you a little old to be spying on your big brother, Tucker?”

Tucker just shrugged. “I’m on my way to get the steaks. Not my fault that on my way happens to be past Mom’s garden. You two should get a room.” He winked at Katrina and moved on.

Grant laid his forehead against Katrina’s. “Sorry. The drawback of a big family—even on a ranch this size—is very little privacy.”

“Your mom is putting us up—and by us, I mean just you and me—at one of the other houses.”

He grinned. “Alone?”

“Apparently.”

“Remind me to give her a big hug and a kiss for that.”

“I need to pick some tomatoes and bring them into the house before she thinks I got lost.”

“Okay.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Later.”

She picked several ripe and juicy ones and brought them inside. She was certain her hair was mussed up and her lips were kiss swollen, but Lydia never said a word. They finished up the salads, then went into the immense dining room to set the table.

The table was rectangular, dark and distressed, and looked handmade. “Who made this table?” she asked as they were setting the utensils.

“Easton and the boys.” Lydia ran her hand lovingly over the surface. “It’s reclaimed maple, and one of my treasured possessions. It’s held up well over the years, and can seat at least twenty people. He even built extra leaves so we can expand it for larger parties.”

Katrina nodded. “It’s massive. And so impressive.”

“Easton worked night and day on it for six months. The boys all pitched in and helped. Every gouge and nick has part of them on it. I love it so much.”

Her heart clenched at Lydia’s words. “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”

“Now, it’s time for all of us ladies to have cocktails. Except for Anya, of course, who’s going to have the virgin variety of whatever we have.”

“Curses,” Anya said, then smiled.

Katrina laughed, and they followed Lydia into the kitchen where she mixed up a very tempting concoction containing watermelon, agave nectar, lime juice, orange juice, and tequila. After shaking up the mix, she filled each glass with ice and decorated it with a wedge of watermelon.

“Melon margaritas for everyone,” she said, though she’d fixed a special pitcher for Anya without the tequila, much to Anya’s irritation.

“Someday I’ll have tequila. Lots of tequila,” Anya said as they made their way out to the front porch and grabbed seats.

“And someday I’ll explain the tequila hangover to you,” Mia said. “Everything in moderation is not just something adults say to be mean to you. Trust me on this.”

Lydia laughed.

Katrina sipped the drink. It was cool and refreshing with just enough of a tequila kick. “This is so good, Lydia.”

“Thank you. I like to experiment with icy cold drinks in the summer. And I do like watermelon.”

“You also like margaritas, Mom,” Mia said.

Lydia swirled the liquid around in her glass, then took a sip. “This is true. More than half the drinks I make have ‘margarita’ in their name.”

Katrina laughed. What a lifestyle the Cassidys led. It seemed relaxed, yet busy at the same time. It didn’t appear as if Lydia was sitting around bored. She had a garden and they’d remodeled two homes. She’d raised four boys and a girl. She must have been going nonstop for years.




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