CHAPTER SEVEN

PEPPER

I really, really didn’t want to admit how hard and efficient of a worker Reagan was. But he was one of the best farmhands I’d ever seen. Even when my dad was running things and he hired people who’d been doing farm work since they were kids. 

The delivery trucks for Leonard’s and Dahlia’s arrived early, so I started scrambling to get those orders out. While I precariously wheeled a hand truck stacked too high with crates, Reagan squatted and lifted a stack of equal size with his bare hand while barely breaking a sweat. 

He learned quickly and was soon harvesting ripe heirloom tomatoes faster than I’d seen anyone do it. I was probably slower than normal because I kept watching him, but he was laser-focused on what he was doing. It didn’t matter if he was lifting, picking, or carrying, he gave his all to everything he did. 

At some point, I wondered if that was the reason he became so successful. 

Nah, he’s just trying to kiss ass for whatever ulterior motive he has, I told myself.

I wondered how long it would take for him to start complaining about the heat and the dirt like the preppy rich boy I expected him to be. But he never did. 

His jeans and shoes got just as dusty as mine, if not more. Anything that was remotely heavy for me to lift, he took from me to carry himself. He guzzled down water on our breaks and wiped the sweat from his brow but never complained once.

Around the hottest part of the day, he paused during tilling fresh compost into the soil and started unbuttoning his shirt. 

Please don’t, I begged silently. Please don’t do it…

He did it. 

He took his shirt off and draped it casually over the fence post while I jerked my eyes away, my core pulsing vigorously and my whole body heating up even more under the baking sun. 

But I couldn’t not look at him. That would make it too obvious.    

But it was too late. I already saw. 

And he knew it. 

“You’re gonna get burned,” I warned him, trying to stay focused on my own tilling.

“I’ll be alright.” I could hear the smirk in his voice as he picked up his hoe again and got back to it. 

He wasn’t just ripped hunks of muscles, his body was beautiful. Bronzed from being kissed by sunlight and artfully sculpted from hours of hard work. Faded tattoos lined his bulging shoulders but I didn’t dare look closer to see what they were. Scar tissue, several shades lighter than his tan, dotted along his ribs. 

It appeared my perception of Reagan Sells was slightly off. He didn’t grow up in an untouchable, gold-plated bubble like I originally thought. Something touched him, scarred and scratched him.

We finished not only early, but ahead of schedule. I couldn’t remember the last time I had such an efficient work day. This would probably be the biggest yield we had in years because nothing would be left to over ripen and rot. 

“Thanks for your help,” I said, awkwardly looking away as Reagan put his shirt back on. “I guess I should pay you for your efforts.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he replied, clasping the last button just under his collarbone. “Consider it a favor.” 

I narrowed my eyes. 

“I don’t like that. That means I’ll owe you something.” 

“Yeah, so?” he pressed teasingly. 

“So?” I repeated. “I don’t like being in debt to people. I’d rather just give you cash up front.” 

“I don’t need cash, Pepper.”

I crossed my arms, my original anger at him returning. 

“Right. I know what you need.”

"Oh, do you?" 

His lips pulled into a playful smirk that quickly turned into a bite of his lower lip. 

Goddamnit. I walked right into that innuendo but I couldn’t back down now. I hardened my expression, trying to ignore that my body felt aflame once again with heat and sensitivity. 

“I really appreciate you putting in work today,” I said bitingly. “But you’re not getting my land. I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish by doing this, but I’ll tell you right now-- it ain’t gonna work.” 

“I know,” he said with more than a bit of exasperation. “You’ve made that perfectly clear, Pepper.”

I blinked, stunned. 

“So what do you want?” 

“I’m building a Cloverville development regardless of where exactly the plot of land is,” he said. “We’re likely to run into each other a lot and I truly just want us to be friendly, like I told you this morning.” His eyes focused sharply on mine. “There’s no other angle here. I’m not trying to pull a fast one on you. But in the event I need help from a neighbor, can I count on you?”

I stared at him for what seemed like an impossibly long time. I just could not figure this guy out. Was that really all there was to it?

“Depends on what kind of help you need,” I said cautiously. 

“I’d never ask anything immoral of you,” he replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Or anything you couldn’t handle. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

I was still highly suspicious. But if he wouldn’t try to buy my land anymore, that was what I wanted right?

I nodded my head slowly. 

“Okay, then.” 

“Great!” he grinned. “Same time tomorrow?” 

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered, taken aback. “If you’re up for it. I should have Maddy and a few other people here tomorrow.”

“Alright, see you then.” He turned toward the driveway and gave Bonny one final scratch behind her ears. “Have a good night, Pepper.” 

And just like that, he left. With seemingly wanting nothing from me, which I just could not bring myself to believe. 

I decided against having an edible after that. I was already far more confused than how I woke up that morning.