Page 17 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"He'll be here in a minute."

"Thank you."

"If you'll excuse me, I have customers, Your Highness."

My mouth falls open. He turns away. Your Highness? Oh, I definitely do not like this man.

A few minutes later, Jack Sullivan approaches.

"Madison."

"Jack."

He offers his hand. "It's good to see you. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

"Thank you."

His expression softens. "Lily was a good friend to the farm."

"I know she cared about it."

"She did."

I gesture toward the produce.

"I'm glad you came because I wanted to talk to you about this. These vegetables are phenomenal. I work with specialty suppliers in New York, and this quality is easily comparable. Better, in some cases. If you have the volume, I know restaurants that would pay very good money for produce like this."

Jack looks at me. Then toward the man behind the stand. Then back at me.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I think there's been a misunderstanding."

I frown.

"I'm not the grower."

"You're not?"

"Goodness, no." He laughs. "I couldn't grow basil, and I tried."

My stomach sinks. Jack points toward the stand.

"Everything here is Javier Martinez's. He's the guy you need to speak with."

I turn back to him. He’s watching me. Of course he is.

"So you're Martinez."

He raises an eyebrow. "Javier Martinez. That's me." His gaze stays on mine. "And you're Madison."

"Apparently everyone knows that."

"Not everyone."

Jack looks between us, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "Well, I'll let you two work out the distribution details."