Page 43 of A Bittersweet Summer

Hopping out of my truck, I was given a completely different picture of Cassidy Summers. She stood on the porch with sunglasses perched atop her head, high-waisted jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places, and a teasing white t-shirt, cropped perfectly to give a small flash of skin.

I don’t think even my teenage self could have concocted a more perfect fantasy.

Needless to say, the plan was adjusted, and I haven’t minded skating along with whatever happens since then. So long as I’m still basking in her presence, there’s no place I’d rather be.

That realization startles me—the thought that we get along so well apart from the farm.

I’m not quite sure what to do with the information.

Noah appears behind Lennon as she nods along with whatever her guest is saying. He taps her shoulder, points to us, and whispers something in her ear.

As Lennon’s gaze hops from us to our intertwined fingers, I feel Cass’s grip loosen.

Reluctantly, I let her go. There’s no sense in fighting it.

“Excuse me,” Lennon says, rounding the island and weaving through the crowd to find us. “I thought we lost you, there,” she says. “I can’t believe how many people showed up for this thing.” There’s true excitement in her tone and more joy than I’ve seen the girl exude since I met her.

If Cassidy is the sun, Lennon is an ominous black hole floating in space. Somehow, Noah found himself sucked into her gravity. For myself, personally, I prefer Earth. Space is scary.

So is Lennon.

With a pointed look at Cassidy, Lennon folds her arms across her chest. “What I want to know, actually, is when—”

“There you are!” Ellis practically tackles Lennon by running into her, heedless of the two of us and the conversation we were about to have.

I take the opportunity to look at Cassidy. The crease between her brows has disappeared, her smooth skin still tinged pink around her cheeks and nose—probably from being out in the sun all day.

When she catches me looking, I don’t look away. Instead, I meet her smile with my own. As if pulled by Cass’s own gravity, my hand moves a few inches until it brushes her pinky again. I yearn for whatever contact I can get, postponing my guilt and role as director of HR at Miller Run Farms for just tonight.

“Oh my god, Cass!” Ellis says, looking equal parts relieved to see her friend still in one piece, and worried that something horrible has happened. She spent the last few moments rehashing theChandlerissue without realizing we stood right here. “I’ve been looking for Lennon, but we can get him out if we just—”

“It’s fine.” Cass cuts her off, waving her hand as if there was no problem to begin with. She adjusts the sunglasses on her head to pull back her golden strands of hair. Everything about her reminds me so much of what summers looked like in childhood. There was something more potent—happier—back then. Cassidy reminds me of that.

“Wes and I have it handled,” she adds. “For reference, we are engaged but will be having a prompt breakup in the morning, but for now, I’m the future Mrs. Miller.”

I swallow, the words sending a little thrill through my blood that I choose to ignore.

There’s a slight pause before all three of them break out in laughter. Cass’s laughter rises above the others. It’s like she has the laugh she gives to those she wants to feel comfortable. It’s the one she does around the clients to help them feel relaxed—the laugh that tells them she’s not threatening. This one is different—it rings out unbidden—a true indicator of joy.

I want to bottle it up and drink it down.

“I pretended to be married once,” Griffin adds as he appears behind Ellis. I nod in greeting.

I’d talked with Griffin earlier after the charcuterie project in the kitchen, finding out he works in music and wondering if I could gather more information for Rosemary.

She’s been trying her hardest to break onto the scene in Nashville, and she certainly has the talent. What she doesn’t have is parents supporting that kind of dream. That was apparent during the conversation I had with her earlier.

I wish I’d said more—done more to tell my mom that Rosemary doesn’t need that kind of intervention. She’s capable, and we all know that she’s not happy here.

Instead, I went for the easy way out—working behind the scenes to find something—anything—that could help her accomplish what she set out to do.

I eye Griffin. “What’s the story behind that?” I ask, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep myself from reaching for Cassidy again.

He chuckles. “Well, now I’m about to marry her.”

Cass blanches. “We didn’t really think the whole thing through.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “No marriage here, though. Norealmarriage that is! There’s just a whole lot of pretending between a girl and her employer for the night. The real marriage is just for you guys!”

Cassidy gestures to the two of them, and her incessant talking forces me to suppress the silly grin I keep releasing in her presence. If Roe were around, there’s no way she’d let my expressions slide. Nor would she fail to notice the way my gaze slides in Cass’s direction, tracking the flush creeping down herneck, the pink tinge to her cheeks as she describes thenothing but a boss and his employeedynamic we are failing to maintain.