“Someone was in my house,” I whisper, and sink down onto the chaise lounge.
“Why didn’t you lock the front door?”
“I did! I told you, I’m sure I did. I know that I was preoccupied with this deadline, and the commotion out there had me all distracted, but with all the Jack shit happening, I’m sure I locked it. And I know I shut this office door.”
“Okay, I believe you.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You’re not stupid, and you’re not a liar, Lo.”
I nod, relieved to know that he believes me, because I’m not so sure I believe myself anymore. It all seems so silly.
“Maybe it was one of the construction guys who came through the house on his way out for the day.” I shrug, then rub my hands briskly over my face.
“So you had coffee with Jill?”
“Yeah. She came in to Sips and sat with me for a bit.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Stuff.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.
Ty’s eyes narrow. “What kind of stuff?”
“Girl stuff.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I laugh and kiss Ty’s cheek. “That’s okay.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” His eyebrows are raised high on his brow.
“Nope.”
He frowns, then smiles down at me. “Okay.”
“I got the work I wanted to finished, so I can frolic through the corn maze tonight with no worries.”
“Oh, great,” he replies sarcastically. “You’ll be frolicking without me.”
“Why?”
“Honey, I’m a guy. I don’t frolic.”
“You have a tattoo of a princess tiara on your arm, big guy.” I slap his shoulder and stalk past him to go change my clothes. “You’ll frolic.”
“I’ll run, not frolic.” His voice is right behind me on the stairs.
“You could romp through the corn,” I suggest with a laugh.
“Do you remember earlier when we were talking about spankings?” Ty asks with a smile in his voice.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“You’re about to remember, sweetness.”
Chapter Fourteen
TY
“I don’t want to take a dumb hayride,” Seth, Zack’s twelve-year-old son, murmurs as we all hop up onto the wagon, stacked with hay bales, being pulled by a big, green John Deere tractor. “Can Thor and I run alongside you, Dad?”
“That’s fine, but stay close,” Zack agrees, and sits next to his brother, Josh, who has Cara snuggled in his lap.
Jill climbs aboard and waits for us to sit, then sits on the other side of me, far from Zack. I glance over at him and notice his scowl before he schools his features and watches his son and the boy’s dog happily run alongside the wagon as we bounce over the field to the pumpkins and the corn maze.
“The haunted house is down tonight,” the driver calls back. “They’re fixing the wiring or something.”
“Well, crap,” Lo mutters beside me, disappointed. I wrap my arm around her and kiss her temple, breathing in the clean scent of her.
“Thank God,” Jillian exclaims at the same time, making the others laugh.
It’s close to seven in the evening, just approaching twilight, but the rows of pumpkins and the high stalks of corn are illuminated with tall stadium lights so bright it’s almost the same as being out here during the middle of the day.
“Why are we at the pumpkin patch again?” Zack asks.
“Because it’s tradition.” Cara elbows him and Jill smirks at him.
“What, are you afraid that you’ll get lost in the corn maze and you’ll need your twelve-year-old to help you find your way back out?” Jill taunts him.
“No, I’m afraid I’m going to have to find your ass in there when you lose your way.” He grins at her warmly. I glance down at Jill and see she’s grinning back.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
This farm opens to the public every year. Families and people of all ages come out to enjoy the maze, choose pumpkins, and buy fall produce offered here, but during one day of the season, all proceeds are given to an organization called Text No More, an organization that educates the community about the ramifications of texting while driving.
Mary and Eric Thomas own and run Wildfire Farms, and six years ago their four-year-old daughter was killed when struck by someone texting and driving.
Most of the community comes out to support this cause.
“Holy crap, Dad!” Seth points to the thousands of bright orange pumpkins on the ground ahead of us as we approach the patch. “That’s a ton of pumpkins!”
“Why do we need pumpkins?” Josh asks Cara. “No one is going to come trick-or-treating way out at our place.”
“Because they’re fun.” Cara grins at him. “Get in the spirit of it.”
Lo is quiet next to me, deep in thought.
“You okay?” I murmur into her ear, and smile to myself when she shivers.
“I’m fine,” she responds softly.
I tip her head back to look in her eyes. “You sure?”
She just nods and leans her head on my shoulder, and I shelve the issue, reminding myself to ask her about it later.
“Hey, y’all are coming to our place on Sunday for football, right?” Josh asks us all. “Seattle is playing San Francisco.”