Page 68 of A Bittersweet Summer

“Walton, I don’t appreciate—”

“Save it,” he interrupts. “You don’t need to act like a good boss to me. You already are, Wesley Miller, and falling for a girl isn’t going to change that. Whether she works for you or not. I’ve hardly seen you date save for that last one, and I’d say it’s about time.”

I shift uncomfortably, sweat beading on the back of my neck as the sun beats down from overhead. June is beginning to shift into July, and I’m not ready for the overwhelmingly hot days ahead. “Thanks,” I mutter begrudgingly.

“In fact,” he says. “Why don’t you get out of here now?”

“Oh no, I can’t—”

His mouth flattens into a thin line. “I got a hold of things here,” he says. “Besides, the extra help has got us ahead of schedule. I don’t think there’s a downed fence post on this entire farm, which is surprising considering how Macy is. That horse can really destroy a barn. Go and have fun, and take that girl to the lake.”

I glance at my phone, checking the time. I have a couple of hours before I’m set to pick Cass up at the end of the drive.

It’s enough time to rinse off, stress about having the same swim trunks I’ve had for the past ten years, and pace the living room until I want to throw up.

Perfect.

I leave the farm in Walton’s care to do just that.

By the time two pm hits, I’m in my truck, rumbling down the gravel drive until I get to the end.

Cassidy stands in a loose, blue sundress. The end flirts with the tops of her toned thighs, rippling in the wind that blows through the trees.

I can see the green string at the base of her neck, making me question what kind of swimsuit she has beneath.

“Hey,” she says, hauling a bag over her shoulder. Her hair sticks out wildly from the bun at the back of her head, pieces framing her sun-kissed face.

I hop out of the truck, and she glances down at the boots, her gaze rising higher to take in the jeans and my gray t-shirt. Her nose scrunches.

“I thought we were swimming at the lake?” she questions.

“We are,” I say, stepping closer. My hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer as I press a kiss to her temple before pulling away. “I’ll change when I get there. Felt weird in the swim trunks.”

She laughs nervously. “Well, now I feel weird in this bikini and cover-up.”

I scan her, noting the soft curve mixed with strong muscle. My blood heats at the sight of her. I promised myself I would do this right—no more dry humping on tractors, and certainly no more instances of me coming without knowing she’s been taken care of.

I promised myself I would take this woman out on a proper date, but I’ll be damned if I make it to the lake before caving.

“Don’t,” I say, noting the pink flush across her cheeks.

“Alright.”

I round the truck, opening her door until she’s safely nestled in the freshly cleaned cab.

In the driver’s seat, I shift out of park and start down the road. We pass rolling hay fields broken by tall trees and old farmhouses.

Without my hat, I feel bare, running a hand over my hair, hoping it doesn’t look like I tried too hard to style it. Not that it’ll matter if we get into the water.

“So, where is this lake?” she asks.

I place my hand on the back of her seat, opting to drive with one. When my fingers touch the green strings of her bikini, I play with them on instinct, relishing in the soft smile she gives me.

“It’s only a couple of miles from here. Right before you get into town. There’s a whole section for swimming.” My fingers roll the end of one of the strings. “We used to go when we were kids, and I haven’t been in a long while, but I thought it might be fun.”

Cass fills the silence the whole way to the lake, and I bask in the warmth her words bring. She tells me about the blanketshe started crocheting for her brother, her plans to go dress shopping with Ellis next month, and tries to convince me to use hiring a new employee as a guise to find Grady a girlfriend.

“I think it would be good for the kid,” she’d said.