HE REALLY SHOULDN’T LIKE TEASING Andy as much as he did. It was wrong to take pleasure from riling her up. It made him feel like a boy pulling a girl’s hair to get her attention. Not that he’d ever been that innocent, but he’d heard people talk about shit like that. Having the old lady fuss over him made messing with Andy even more fun, and he wasn’t going to complain about the attention. Or the chili and corn bread. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something cooked—not just reheated—by someone he knew. Millie’s food was phenomenal. But seeing the way Andy’s eyes flashed at him and feeling the heat underneath all that ice she was flinging at him, he couldn’t help himself. Even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. Messing with the sexy farmer was his new favorite thing.

Jake had gone back to his plowing. There really wasn’t room for Liam to ride with him. They’d barely made it back to the house in one piece the first time, and there was no reason for him to go back out there and stand in the field. He wasn’t ready to leave either. Knowing he was around, even at a distance, seemed to help his friend. That was more than enough reason to stay. Yanking Andy’s chain was an added perk.

He’d parked himself at the bottom of the stairs to wait for her. He figured he’d offer to help and he had a favor to ask her. It would probably be easier to get her to say yes if he made himself useful instead of just a pain in the ass. He had a feeling competency was a powerful currency with her.

He almost called out to her as she started down the steps, but she seemed so intent on whatever she was thinking about, he didn’t want to interrupt her. Either that or he liked looking at her when she wasn’t paying attention and he didn’t have to pretend to be doing something else. She might be petite, but the woman was strong, all lean, willowy muscle with exactly the right kind of curves. She wore her chestnut hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail and his palm practically itched to wrap it around his hand. To tug hard enough to exposed the slender column of her throat. He’d fought the urge the entire time he’d been behind her on the four-wheeler and it hadn’t dissipated yet.

She took the last two steps, still clearly lost in thought as if her body were on autopilot while her mind wandered. He’d never been that unaware of his surroundings. In his line of work, a person who did that ended up dead. Still waiting for her to notice him, he opened his mouth, intending to give her a heads-up before she ran right into him. Before he got a chance to say anything, she glanced up, her gaze met his, and she pulled back, losing her footing and tumbling forward.

He didn’t think; he didn’t need to. His reactions were made for situations like this. Instead of stepping out of the way and letting her fall, he moved into her, snagging her around the waist as she went past him. Her momentum threatened to pull him off-balance, but he was ready for it, using the force of her fall to swing her in a circle. For a fraction of a second, he cradled her against his chest, losing himself in the warmth of holding her in his arms. Then she squirmed, pinning him with a glare that threatened to strip the flesh from his face, and broke the spell.

“You okay?” he asked, setting her on the ground.

She moved away from him so fast he worried she’d trip again, but he kept his hands at his side, afraid to make things worse.

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth.

They stood for a moment: her glaring at him, him soaking up the view of her ready to blast him.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

There might be fire in her eyes, but she had ice in her voice. He half expected to see crystals form in front of her.

“Actually,” he said, laying on the closest thing he had to charm. “I was going to ask you that question.”

Her expression turned wary and he pushed his temporary advantage.

“I can’t help Jake with the tractor, but he asked me to stay until he got back. I thought maybe you had some work I could do for a couple of hours.”

He didn’t tell her he was staying either way. It was a given. He’d stay as long as Jake wanted him to. He’d just rather not be in the way if he could help it. And he was curious about the distracted woman with the bumper sticker-covered car who seemed to grow lettuce for a living. He couldn’t begin to figure out how to put all of that together.

He saw her working his request around in her head. The woman had no poker face. Every thought she had was written clear as day in her expression. That kind of lack of guile held its own danger but he doubted she’d appreciate him commenting on it or be willing to take his advice if he did. Truth be told, part of him liked the idea that there were still innocents in the world, even if it meant people like him had to do the heavy lifting. There was something sweet about the bubble she’d built for herself, but he sure as hell wasn’t telling her that. Just because he liked poking at her didn’t mean he wanted to see her claws come out for real.

“Have you ever planted anything?” she asked, her expression shifting to pained.

“Aside from flags and bugs? No, but I’m a quick learner.”

“Of course you are. Follow me.” Not waiting to see if he listened, she started across the lawn toward the long, half-round tunnel that looked like it was covered in clear plastic.

The first thing he noticed when they got inside was the difference in temperature. There weren’t any fans or heaters that he could see but the plastic tunnel was noticeably warmer than the outside air. It wasn’t as sealed off as a greenhouse and with nothing but a thin layer of plastic between the inside and out, he doubted it held its temperature overnight but it certainly seemed to capture the warmth from the springtime sun.

“What is this?” He could barely stand up and it looked like a good stiff wind would blow the structure away.

“It’s called a hoop house,” she said slowly, as if she were talking to a child. “It lets us extend the growing season a couple of weeks in both directions.”

“It’s not very sturdy.”

“It’s not supposed to be. It’s designed to be moved. A permanent structure wouldn’t do me any good. It would cook the greens before they had a chance to mature. This will only stay over this row until it’s a couple of degrees warmer outside. Then we’ll move it until we need it for shade in the middle of the summer. Come on. Grab a flat and I’ll show you what to do.”

She motioned to trays filled with tiny green plants sitting between two rows of rich, dark earth. The narrow path in between appeared to be the same soil, but it had been tamped down instead of raked smooth. He picked up a tray full of dark red leaves that were just starting the curl into something that looked a bit like a ruffle and followed Andy to the end of the row. The plastic felt like it was closing in on him and he had to keep reminding himself to stand up straight. He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but he didn’t want her to see him hunched over.

“You can start here.” She dropped to her knees at the end of the row and reached up to take the tray of plants from him.

He swallowed hard so she wouldn’t see what he was thinking, what he had no business thinking. But looking up at him with her eyes that shifted from green to golden brown, she was so beautiful he had to break eye contact to catch his breath. The idea of gripping her ponytail took on an entirely different meaning. One he had no fucking business thinking about.

Handing her the tray, he dropped to his knees beside her so fast he thudded against the packed earth hard enough that he knew he’d feel it later. It was okay. He needed the pain to jolt his thoughts back onto a civilized track and away from the Neanderthal he didn’t want her to see.

“Show me,” he said, deliberately turning away from her to face the empty row. Eyes on the job at hand. Piece of cake. It wasn’t like the plants were going to try to kill him or anything. “Do I need a shovel or something?”

“The soil is soft enough for you to do most of the work with your hands. You shouldn’t need a tool.”

He could hear the smile in her voice.

“We pick these before they get too big, so make a hole about every six inches.” She poked her finger into the soil and wiggled it to make the hole wider. “The seedlings are sturdier than you think, but you still need to be careful with them. Separate them out like this.”

Gently, she tore off a clump of the tiny plants, teasing them apart with her fingers until she’d managed to separate a small, two-leafed seedling with a clump of dirt-covered roots from the rest. She placed the plant into one of the holes she’d made and pressed the soil around it. He watched as she repeated the process with a handful of other seedlings, his trepidation growing with each tiny plant she tucked into the earth. He wasn’t exactly ham-fisted, but he didn’t know if he had the finesse to tease the plants free of the clump without tearing them to bits. He had a feeling whatever he did to her plants, Andy would be more than happy to do to him.

“Here, you try.”

She held the clump of dirt and leaves out to him as if she were handing him something precious, and he took them with the same reverence. If he screwed this up, it wouldn’t be because he didn’t try. Careful not to break the slender stems, he felt his way down to the base and gently nudged one of the tiny seedlings loose. In the end, he had to pull it free with a bit of tearing to the roots, but he didn’t think he did too badly. Andy didn’t groan or take a swipe at him so he couldn’t have gotten it too wrong.

He poked his finger into the earth, surprised at how easily it gave way. The soil was soft and warmer than he expected. He thought that might be the real advantage to the hoop thing. The air temperature might not hold but if it warmed the soil up even a couple of degrees, it probably gave the tiny plants a boost. He made a metal note to ask Andy later, but at the moment he had a tiny charge to tuck into the dirt. Keeping his touch firm but gentle, he set the plant into the hole and pressed the soil around it. On its own, it looked minuscule and unsteady, barely holding itself upright, but there was tenacity too. He could almost picture the plant it would become. If it didn’t die. He really didn’t want it to die.

When he glanced over at Andy to see what she thought of the job he’d done, he found her watching him with the closest thing he’d seen to warmth since he arrived. When she wasn’t trying to shoot him full of daggers, she looked friendly—softer even—but not in a way that diminished her. She reminded him a little bit of her plants. Somehow fragile and strong at the same time.

He’d obviously slipped off his rails, as evidenced by his mental journey into the land of daytime talk shows and Hallmark cards.

“Am I good to go?” Maybe if he put some distance between them he could find his perspective again.

She tipped her head to the side, clearly catching his dismissal and looking confused by it. He stabbed his finger into the dirt to resist the urge to pull back his words. To ask her to stay and help him.

“Finish this row,” she said, standing and wiping her hands on her jeans.

He deliberately avoided the path they took over the gentle swell of her hips.

“I’ll be in the summer kitchen behind the house. Find me when you’re finished and we’ll see where Jake is and what happens next.”

He nodded, following her with his gaze as she made her way back down the row in the direction they’d come from. She paused halfway to look back over her shoulder at him.

“It’s good you’re here. For Jake,” she added, as if he’d misunderstand her intent. “I’ve been worried. I’m glad he has someone to look out for him.”

He nodded. Her concern for his friend tightened something in his chest. She didn’t have any reason to care about Jake beyond normal human decency. He’d seen enough of people in the past couple of years to convince him decency was a precious commodity. Despite his inclination to assume she was naïve, he had to admit she’d built something beautiful—a peaceable kingdom in the middle of a world with too much ugliness and chaos. He’d hate to see the outside world touch it.

––––––––

ANDY DIDN’T WANT to like him, especially after his smug cracks and weird judgmental vibe. Feeling anything close to affection for Liam was at odds with the get the Viking out of her space plan she’d been building for herself. But she’d watched the care he’d taken planting the lettuce and something inside her shifted. Most guys, especially ones as big as him—not that she’d come across any as big as him but the basic principle applied—didn’t have the finesse to plant the tiny seedlings without destroying as many as they saved. Instead of using brute force to do the job, he coaxed the seedlings apart with a finesse she hadn’t expected.

He’d spent the rest of the afternoon moving fencing with Jake and by the time they made it back to the house for dinner, she could see a noticeable change in the younger man. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that one afternoon with a combat buddy was enough to fix the things Jake was wrestling with, but it was the first forward movement she’d seen in him. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling hopeful. And as a result, softening her opinion of the overbearing man who’d invaded her farm and threatened her peace.

To top it all off, he’d been freakishly charming at dinner. When the guys got together and told war stories, she’d always felt a bit like they spoke a language she didn’t understand. It didn’t bother her. The shared experience was part of why the farm worked. They might not be in the service anymore, but they lived and worked side by side, albeit it at far less dangerous jobs. And they didn’t have to explain things to each other. They could count on the person sitting next to them to at least have some understanding of their experience, the lens with which they viewed the world. If it helped ease them back into the world their friends and family lived in, then it was working exactly the way it was supposed to.

On the occasions that dinner conversation turned to experiences she couldn’t imagine, Andy had gotten used to sitting back with her coffee, providing a silent witness to their struggle. She had no illusions about her role. She wasn’t a therapist—not even close—but she could listen without judging. Lord knew she had enough in her past to ensure she never threw stones.

It had been different with Liam at the table. He’d deliberately drawn her into the conversation, not to show how much she didn’t know, more like giving her clues about the language they spoke. Providing markers for her to find her way. It was unexpected and kind of endearing.

“The goats are already starting to wear out the bottom pasture,” said Travis. “You’re right. We need to think about rotating them through the upper field.”

Between dealing with Liam and packaging the latest soap order, she hadn’t given the idea of getting a dog any more thought. It didn’t sound like she could afford to put it off. If the goats cut the new growth too close, it would take much longer for the pasture to rebound. Let it go too long and it might be a whole season before it recovered fully. Maybe they could get a llama. Llamas were supposed to be almost as protective as sheep dogs.

“Do you remember the goats that time outside Kandahar?” Jake’s quiet voice cut through the noise around the table.

The group was so unaccustomed to him joining in the conversation. His words brought everything else to a stop as they held their collective breath, waiting to see what came next.

“The time Jefferson fell asleep and almost got himself eaten?” said Liam, the laugh lines deepening around his chiseled lips. “How could I forget?”

“By what? Not goats, surely?” she asked after a few moments, holding her breath and hoping since he brought it up, Jake would tell the story.

He shot Liam a pleading look, almost as if he were trapped and couldn’t figure out how to free himself, which probably wasn’t that far from the truth. Something passed wordlessly between them and then Liam turned his attention back to the handful of people gathered around the table.

“We were doing recon outside Kandahar. There had been reports of insurgents in the area but command didn’t know for sure and no one on the ground was talking.” His smile turned to a smirk and she watched him slip into his memories. “It was supposed to be easy.”

Mike snorted and beside her, Travis huffed out his breath on a choked laugh. “They’re all easy, right?”

Liam tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Yeah, except this one actually should have been. In, take a quick look around, and back out again. Couple of hours. No big deal.” His smirk deepened, etching lines on either side of his mouth, and she wondered what it would feel like to smooth them with her thumb.

Pushing the thought away as if it might bite her because absolutely no good could come of that kind of thinking, she took a sip of coffee. She sat back in her chair, putting as much distance between them as she could.

“We ditched the Humvee just outside the village. Jefferson had one job: stay with the vehicle and be ready when we got back. Jake, Smithfield, the translator, and I took off for the village to try to get the info we needed.”

“You ran into trouble in the village? Ambush?” asked Mike, setting his mug on the table and looking interested.

“Hell no. That was the easy part. The villagers were great. They didn’t want any trouble. They were as eager to roust the insurgents as we were.”

There was nodding around the table and Andy wondered for about the hundredth time what it was like to see what they’d seen on the other side of the planet. Before the farm, she thought she’d lived a pretty diverse cosmopolitan life. Nothing about her past had been sheltered or small. But while she was off feeling like she owned the world, she’d had no idea what guys like Jake were going through.

“We were back in half the time I thought it would take us,” said Liam, his expression softening at the memory. “When we got back to the Humvee, Jefferson was asleep in the driver’s seat and there was a herd of goats deconstructing the vehicle.”

“Why?” asked Travis after the laughter died down around the table.

Even Jake broke a smile. That alone was enough to make her cut Liam a lot of slack.

“We’d been humping it for three straight days. Jefferson was beat like the rest of us. I guess he figured it was a safe enough place to catch some sleep. He used brush to camouflage the Humvee and did such a good job, he attracted a herd of grazing goats. They started on the brush and kept going. By the time we got there, they’d pretty much destroyed the canvas cover and the seals around the door armor. I had a bitch of a time explaining the damage to HQ,” said Liam.

He laughed, a deep, rich sound at odds with the arrogant badass she’d gotten used to. He kept surprising her; she wasn’t sure she liked it.

“That wasn’t the best part,” said Jake, his quiet voice cutting through the laughter.

Andy waited for him to elaborate but instead of speaking, he pinned his gaze on Liam as if the other man held the key to something he wanted. Which might be the case.

“No, it wasn’t,” said Liam, his smile turning the blue of his eyes from ice to something much warmer. “The best part was the village woman who chewed Jefferson a new one for messing with her goats.”

“Seriously?” asked Mike.

“Jefferson slept through the fucking goats—sorry,” he said, catching himself and shooting her a sheepish smile.

“No apology necessary. It’s Millie you have to worry about,” she said, enjoying the way he seemed to squirm at the mention of the older woman’s name. She had a feeling Liam rarely lost control or said anything he didn’t mean to say.

“I’ve heard that word before,” said Millie, setting a beautiful golden-yellow Bundt cake on the center of the table.

Travis jumped to his feet, hurrying to grab bowls of lemon curd and cream from the counter. His forehead creased as he glanced at the older woman. She might have heard the curse word before, but the few times the guys lost their place and slipped in front of her, she’d read them the riot act. Andy had no idea why but Millie had a weird kind of soft spot where Liam was concerned. At least she wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

“That doesn’t make it okay for me to say it in front of you. I apologize.” Liam looked solemn and surprisingly repentant.

Andy wasn’t ready to assume he was genuinely sorry, but from the expression on Millie’s face, she was willing to forgive the man anything. Honestly.

“Finish your story,” said Millie, cutting thick slices of cake.

Andy caught a whiff of the buttery lemon goodness and lost track for a moment of anything but the promise of cake.

“Jefferson slept through the goats trying to eat the vehicle,” said Liam, cleaning up his language from before. “But he woke up when he heard us approach. By that point we weren’t really trying to be quiet.”

“Smithfield was laughing like a hyena,” said Jake.

“He wasn’t going to be the one who had to explain the damage,” said Liam, hitting the younger man with a smile.

“Truth,” said Jake, stabbing a bite of cake and mock saluting Liam with his fork.

It felt so good to see him start to relax and engage. Andy took the downhill section of the emotional rollercoaster and thought good things about the Viking.

“So he wakes up, sees the goats and loses it. Shooing them away, poking at them with his gun. The goats couldn’t care less. They found food and they’re not about to stop until they’ve gotten what they want. Things escalate and pretty soon Jefferson is standing on the hood of the Humvee, trying to literally push the goats off.”

“The rest of you weren’t trying to help him, I don’t suppose,” she said.

Around the table, the guys paused between shoveling cake in their mouths to laugh like she’d said something hilarious.

“No,” said Liam, shaking his head, his smile making the corners of his eyes crease. “We weren’t predisposed to help.”

“Delegating is fundamental to successful missions,” said Travis, making a lame attempt to stifle a laugh.

“So the goats are eating the vehicle and Jefferson is trying—by himself—to get them to stop,” she said.

“And failing,” said Liam. “In all honesty, we probably would have helped him except this old woman—much older than you, Millie darling—came flying out of the tree line, brandishing some kind of shepherd’s crook and swearing up a blue streak in Pashto.”

She glanced over in time to see Millie soaking up the darling like a lovesick teenage girl. Good grief.

“It actually took a bit to figure out what she was saying. The woman started chasing Jefferson for messing with her goats and the translator was too busy laughing to clarify what she was screaming at him. It was pretty clear from the context, though.”

Andy felt the laughter bubble up inside her. It was too easy to see the picture Liam painted with his words and she knew goats well enough to understand how hard it was to deter them when they found something they wanted. Despite the reputation for eating trash, goats were actually pretty picky about what they ate, but when they picked a favorite, they were willing to use their heads and sharp horns to get to it. And they were tenacious as hell. Almost as tenacious as old women, she thought, glancing over to see Millie watching them over her cake.

“You got it sorted?” she asked, trying not to notice the way Liam’s face softened in pleasure as he polished off the last of his cake. Or the way his lips curved when he caught her looking.

“We did, with no harm to the natives—goats or people. Jefferson was a bit worse for wear,” he said and then shifted his attention so quickly she thought she’d missed something.

She looked around the table, but no one else seemed to have noticed. With the exception of Jake. His expression had shifted again, back to the one he wore when it seemed like he was somewhere else instead of in the present with the rest of them. She couldn’t tell why without asking and there was no way she’d do that. Maybe the memories caught up with him.

“Millie, the cake was exceptional,” said Travis. “So was the company, but I’ve got to be up to milk in the morning.” He stood, stopping long enough to press a kiss to the older woman’s cheek. “Liam, you’re staying, right?”

The question hung in the air and for every fraction of a second that passed, Andy felt her chest tighten to the point she’d soon have trouble breathing. She wanted him to leave. The man was a pain in the ass. She’d wanted him gone two minutes after he arrived. Didn’t she? She did, but what would that mean for Jake? Did it even matter? Liam hadn’t acted like he expected to stay past dinner. He also hadn’t acted like he was in a hurry to leave. Oh hell.

“I was hoping to talk to Andy about that after dinner, actually.”

Double hell.

“He can stay, can’t he?” asked Mike.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” Liam looked at her as if that were exactly what he meant to do.

The faces staring at her from around the table looked up at her as if she had the power to either crush Christmas or bring it early. All of them except Jake. And it was his lack of expression that held the most sway with her.

“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like,” said Millie, daring Andy to contradict her.

She wouldn’t. There were precious few things in the world worth going against Millie, but it was more than that. She wouldn’t contradict the older woman because whatever Andy felt about the situation, Liam was important to Jake. And she wouldn’t stand in the way of anything or anyone who could help the younger man find his way home.

“Of course you can,” she said, plastering a smile on her face she didn’t feel. Whatever else he might be, she was pretty sure Liam Rogers was trouble—at least for her.