Here With You Read online

  According to Bill Peterson, his pig sales had doubled since Ben came to town. Brady could say the same about the blueberry farm. Not that his family had doubled its income, but they were in the black for the first time in nearly five years.

  “Just don’t do anything dumb. I don’t feel like bailing out your ass tonight.” Brady followed his brother outside and locked up the barn behind them.

  Carter tossed his apple core in the compost pile. “Kinda hard to stir up trouble in our sleepy little town, big bro. But don’t you worry your pretty little face. I’ll be home before my Harley turns into a pumpkin.”

  “Whatever.” Brady held the door to the kitchen open for his brother. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” Apple season was nearing its end, making way for pumpkins and snow. Not necessarily in that order.

  Fishing season never ended, but the farmers had a short window, needing to get the biggest bang for their buck. Once his bushes and trees were prepped for winter and snow fell, Brady would put the plow on the truck and spend his winters plowing the roads of Crystal Cove. That too was a twenty-four hour job. Especially the past few winters.

  “Something smells good.” Brady picked up the lid to the crockpot and was rewarded with a smack to the back of his hand.

  “How many times have I told you to never lift a lid without knowing what’s inside.”

  He winked before kissing his mother’s cheek. “Sorry, Ma.”

  “It’s a good thing it’s done cooking. Don’t forget to bring the pulled pork with you to Ben’s party.”

  “Aw. Ain’t you going to be adorable skipping down Ty’s driveway with a crockpot in hand?” Carter snickered from the other side of the counter where he guzzled down a bottle of water.

  “And I have a tray of brownies for you to bring,” their mother added.

  Carter’s laughter came to a screeching halt, his hand frozen in midair.

  “Want to borrow Mom’s apron?” Brady snagged the bottle from his brother’s hand and finished it off. “I’m taking the first shower. I can’t guarantee there’ll be any hot water left.”

  Their farmhouse hadn’t been updated since his father inherited it from his father some forty years ago. The floor in the kitchen slanted toward the back door. The sink in the downstairs powder room had rust stains around the drain, and the upstairs toilet ran. Ben swore he fixed the damn thing at least once a month.

  The upstairs wasn’t much better. The ceilings in the hundred-fifty year old farmhouse were low. So low Brady had to duck when entering his bedroom and the bathroom.

  He stripped down in the small bath, ignoring the faded floral wallpaper—which he and his brother had complained about since they were boys—and turned on the water, not bothering to wait for it to heat before stepping in.

  He had to crouch to rinse his hair. Since the faucet only reached his neck, he didn’t spend much time in the bathroom. One of these days, when he wasn’t working seven days a week, and his mother would allow him to spend money on her and the house, he was going to remodel the place.

  Maybe he’d talk to Ty about it tonight. While Brady was handy with a tractor and shovel, anything that needed fixing often got put on to Carter, who wasn’t much handier than Brady.

  Their mother never complained. She was the type of woman who would have loved growing up in the eighteen hundreds. Farm life was good for her, which was why she was never leaving Marshall Farm.

  That and because it was the only piece of their father she had left. Brady admired the love his parents had for each other. He was too young to appreciate it when his father was still alive, but looking back at the photos and listening to the stories his mother shared, he wished someday he’d find a sweet farm girl who loved the land as much as his mother had.

  Turning off the water, he made quick work toweling off and running a razor through his thick layer of shaving cream. Shaving was another one of those time-sucks he didn’t care for. In the winter he let his facial hair grow out a bit. Not too long. He wasn’t the bearded type, but typically only shaved a few times a month. The little extra layer of hair was just enough protection to keep the biting wind off his skin.

  Opening the bathroom door, he called down to his brother to let him know he was done, jiggled the toilet handle one more time, and padded to his bedroom down the hall. The same bedroom he’d had for the past thirty-six years.

  When he’d turned thirty he’d stripped the blue striped wallpaper and slapped on a coat of white paint. Other than that, nothing much had changed. He opened the top drawer to his heavy oak dresser and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs, then opened the second drawer for a clean shirt.

  He wasn’t one for name brands or fancy sayings on his clothes. Simple and functional was all he required. He chose a plain black t-shirt and opened the next drawer that housed his jeans. Seven pair of work jeans and one pair of not-work jeans. He saved those for the few times he went out, which wasn’t often.

  Carter liked to remind him on a weekly basis how much of a hermit he’d become. There was no major reason. Brady simply liked to work. He enjoyed being outside. Sure, he liked socializing, that was a big part of running a farm.

  In the early summer, they’d have people come from all over to pick strawberries. Toward the end of July and straight through to Labor day the blueberry pickers would come. That was definitely his favorite season of all.

  His mother would run the store, frying up blueberry donuts, popping the kettle corn, and weighing the hundreds and hundreds of pounds of blueberries people picked every day.

  Brady and Carter had built a trellis a few years back and brought in picnic tables for families to enjoy their snacks. Ben had talked them into offering weekend entertainment. Local musicians to play country music on a guitar. This year they featured a family day, hiring a children’s musician, a balloon artist, and offered face painting.

  Students from the high school volunteered to help out with the kids. It was the farm’s most successful weekend to date.

  This year for apple picking season he did more of the same, but with hay mazes, hayrides, and pumpkin picking. His mother had been busy in the kitchen making pumpkin whoopee pies and apple pies to sell, while Carter ran the cider press and answered questions about which types of apples to pick for different eating and recipes.

  Brady liked driving the tractor that pulled the hayride. It was a short, slow ride, but the kids loved it. He enjoyed interacting with the families and answering questions about farming as well.

  This was the life. It was so much better than being cooped up in an office all day or sitting behind a computer screen. This was why he’d connected with Ben and Alexis so well. They valued the land and all it had to offer.

  Ty was a good guy as well. They went to the same high school back in the day. Ty was a hotshot soccer player while Brady skipped the sports, needing to rush home after school to work on the farm.

  They were friendly as most townsfolk were, but it would be the first time Brady had been to his house. The only other social events he’d attended were the town dances and events at Coastal Vines, which were still fairly new.

  Marshall Farm and Coastal Vines had formed a new partnership since Ben moved to town and married Alexis. It was great for cross-promotion. Not normally much of a wine drinker, he appreciated it more now after having a tour of the vineyards and tasting his own fruit in some of the wine blends.

  Which was why Brady found himself tugging on his “going out” jeans. It would mean a late night and an earlier morning, but he owed it to Ben for doing so much for their community.

  “’Bout damn time.” Carter stuck his head in Brady’s room. “Wow. Really spiffing it up tonight. Those your ‘I need to get laid’ jeans?”

  “You talk about it so much, I’m beginning to think your sex life is duller than mine. Trying to live vicariously through me, little bro?”

  “God help me if I ever go through a dry spell as long as you. When was your last time? Prom night with Anna Levers? She
was a hottie back in the day. I hear she’s down in Florida dancing around poles and shit.”

  Yeah, Brady had heard the same thing. Too bad. He hadn’t seen that coming. Anna was a nice girl in high school. Top of her class. Went to school down in Tennessee to study agriculture and never came back. Never earned her degree either.

  “Sounds like the kind of establishment you like to visit.”

  “If only we had something like that around here. I’d be there every night.” Carter liked to make himself sound more irresponsible than he really was. He worked hard and played harder. Brady just stuck with working.

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got the fall festival in a few weeks. Once the crops are bunkered down for the winter you can visit all the strip clubs you want.”

  Brady knew even if there were some in the area Carter wouldn’t have time to go. While he took up plowing in the winter, Carter spent his time behind his laptop. He’d taken some graphic design courses and had a real knack for it. Every now and then he’d get a job that would take him off the field, but he’d been pretty good about scheduling them around their busy season.

  “Like I’d forget. That’s the best time to pick up women.” Carter saluted him and left. A moment later Brady heard the groaning of the pipes in the wall.

  As if he’d be picking up women. Most of the women who came by were with their families or boyfriends. Still, Carter was always on the prowl. Brady had begun to think about his future a little more lately. Especially since Ben and Alexis married.

  Not that he’d ever had his eye set on Alexis, she’d been a friend only—a friend his mother had always hoped would turn into something more—but she was the last person on earth he’d ever expect to settle down. Maybe he should work on getting out more. Or at least talk to people about something other than agriculture.

  Yeah. Not likely.

  Brady would make an appearance, chat a little with some of the other business owners he hadn’t seen in a while, then come back home and send some emails. Snow would be on the ground before anyone was ready, and he needed to check in with his customers to make sure they still wanted him to plow.

  And if time, he’d watch some YouTube videos on how to fix a dang toilet.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THIS WAS NICE, BEING part of something. Having friends. Lily had outdone herself decorating the back of Ty’s yard. Granted, now that Lily had moved in with Ty it was her yard as well.

  Twinkling lights wrapped around the railing of the deck and outlined the shed over by the fire pit. Three long tables covered in red and blue plastic tablecloths and more food than the entire town could eat made the gathering seem like it was for a fourth of July celebration instead of a thirty-fifth birthday party.

  The host and hostess were adorable with their matching smiles. There were those who were personally invited, but Grace heard talk from many others who planned on showing up out of gratitude of Ben’s business savvy, and because of the free food.

  Not one to cook, Grace brought a veggie tray and placed it on the table.

  “Thanks so much, Grace. I’m glad you’re here.” Lily hugged her. These hugs. They were kind of nice as well. The hugs she’d given and received from her friends while traveling and working in Europe were superficial. Quick hugs and air kisses so not to rumple any clothing or smudge makeup.

  The hug Lily gave her was tight and warm as if she really was glad to see Grace.

  “Everything looks great.” She hitched a thumb toward the group of men playing beer pong. “And I see my brother-in-law is ignoring the big three and five balloon and pretending he’s twenty-two.”

  “Ty’s no better.” A loud cheer and some friendly swearing erupted from behind. “And it sounds like they’re having a blast. It’s nice to see the guys being... guys.”

  Grace understood. While she’d only been back in town for less than a year, she knew about Ty. How private and reserved he was before he fell in love with Lily. Heck, Lily was the same way. Granted, now Grace and a few others knew why.

  Ben, on the other hand, had a big personality. It was easy to see how he drew Alexis out of her shell.

  “Thanks for coming,” her sister said, sidling up next to her.

  “Of course I’d come.”

  “Backyard barbecues aren’t exactly your thing.” Alexis probably didn’t mean to sound snotty, that wasn’t her way. It was fact. Yeah, these ho-down things weren’t something Grace looked forward to. Ever.

  The few nights out Mia had organized in Rockland were more Grace’s style. Those were fun nights.

  “This is nice.”

  “You’re not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Alexis pointed out, as she liked to do.

  “I think you look fabulous,” Lily interjected, seeming to pick up on the hostility in the air.

  Grace looked down at her coral peep-toe wedges. She’d known better than to wear heels unless she wanted to aggravate the lawn. Or aerate. Whatever it was called. She worked damn hard to take the country girl out of her. City style was more her pace.

  “White pants? A thin blouse. Really?” In her sweatshirt and jeans, Alexis fit in better with the crowd than Grace did.

  “They’re capris. I have a sweater in the car figuring it would cool down once the sun set.”

  “You’re staying that long? Sorry.” Alexis punched her knuckles into her palm. “I didn’t mean to sound so—”

  “Bitchy?”

  “Yeah. I know you’re trying. I appreciate that especially since this isn’t your scene. I’m sure it means a lot to Ben that you’re here. For some reason, he really likes you.” Her words weren’t as sharp this time.

  “And for some reason he really likes you too.”

  “He loves me.” Alexis beamed. Really beamed. Grace had never seen her like this before. Her sister was a happy kid in high school playing sports, hanging with the guys. She never had girlfriends, just lots of guy friends. Where Grace had a different boyfriend every week and a variety of girlfriends at her beck and call. Had being the operative word.

  Funny how irony worked. Now, Grace found herself with no friends of her own and borrowing her sister’s. And boyfriends? Marcus Dubois, the ass wipe who spent more time in front of the mirror than Grace?

  He’d used Grace to get in with her connections, then dumped her for George. Apparently, she didn’t have the right parts to keep him entertained for more than a few months. And then there was Robert Powers.

  Her cheek warmed with embarrassment and shame. No, better not to think about that mistake.

  “Ladies! Care to take on the losers?” Ben strolled over and snaked his arm around Alexis’ shoulders. “They’re having a pity party over there because we keep kicking their asses. Seems like they could use some more practice.”

  Grace hadn’t paid attention to his opponents but didn’t think they’d have much of a challenge playing her. Beer pong wasn’t something she worked on in France.

  “Since I’m on responsible parent duty tonight, I’m out. Lily and Grace, you should play.”

  “Now this I’d like to see.” Ty gently gripped their shoulders and turned them around, steering them toward the beer pong table.

  “I’ve never played before. Have you?” Lily asked.

  “Not once.”

  “It’s easy.” Ty dropped his hands and picked up a ping pong ball from the grass. “You toss the ball in your opponents’ cups. Like this.” He flicked his wrist and the ball went into the first cup.

  “And then what?” Grace counted the ten red cups at the vacant side of the table.

  “Then they take the cup away. You win when all their cups are gone.”

  “What happens if we lose?”

  Ty chuckled. “You look like those two.”

  Grace followed the direction of his laughter and almost threw up.

  Brady and Carter Marshall emerged from the house. Carter laughing—as always—and Brady wearing an annoyed look on his face.

  “They’re the Marshall brothers, right?
I know you introduced me to them when they got here, but there are so many new faces and names,” Lily said.

  “Yeah. Their farm is across from Coastal Vines. I’ll take you apple picking tomorrow.” Ty rubbed his hand down Lily’s back, and she leaned into him. They were sweet, those two.

  “You must know them if they live across from your family’s vineyard.”

  “Yup. Grew up with Carter. Brady’s a few years older than me.”

  The last time she’d seen the older, brooding brother she’d been stark naked in the middle of his blueberry bushes. Mortified wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe that encounter.

  Brady had looked her up and down with disgust instead of interest, then he’d grabbed the collar of his shirt behind his neck and tugged it over his head. He’d tossed her his shirt with a gruff, “Hell. Put this on.” After she was semi-dressed he’d asked her if she was okay or if she needed a lift. She’d told him she was fine and ran all the way home. The half-mile had seemed like ten, but she’d made it home and up to her room before her parents had come up to wake her for the day.

  Grace had been proud of her body back in high school. Most of the guys had drooled over her, and she’d loved showing off her flat stomach and long legs. The shorter the shorts and tighter the top the better.

  She’d filled out some since high school. While she wasn’t anywhere close to being overweight, she didn’t have the muscle definition as in her youth. Too many nights drinking wine and too many days dining on coffee and croissants, and not enough time taking care of her body.

  Although, she felt better about her self-image in Maine than she did in Paris. There, in the fashion industry, if you weren’t five-ten and less than one hundred ten pounds you were overweight.

  She was three inches too short and twenty-five pounds heavier than her colleagues, which was why working behind the counter instead of in front of it had worked out so well for her.