I’m at the stove scrambling eggs for Luke when Kent comes home. I hear tires on the gravel and crane my neck to look out the kitchen window just as the truck pulls to a stop in front of the porch. I can see him through the windshield, that black cowboy hat pulled down low over his eyes, a scowl already in place on his lips. When he gets out of the truck and slams the door shut behind him, I forget how to breathe.
From here he’s everything I want him to be, shirtless and tan, his face closed, his jeans tight across his ass. I can’t believe I thought of cheating on him, I can’t believe I let myself get carried away yesterday—what the hell was I thinking? The women who visit our produce stand would for what I have, that man out in the yard, Kent, and I was all too ready to just throw him a
