We pack a lunch and ourselves into Kase’s truck. My thoughts are still swimming with questions about what went down between my father and Edwin, but I allow my curiosity about Kase’s world to take up the foreground.

We don’t have to travel far to find the pasture, where dozens of cows roam. We hop out of the truck, and Kase ventures ahead, his stride confident. The silhouette of his body appears strong and at ease.

We near the fence, and he casts his gaze out ahead of us.

“This is the heart of it. The reason I’m up at the crack of dawn every day instead of sleeping in with you.”

He winks, and I smile because I’ve yet to wake up in his arms. As much as I cherish his sweet notes, nothing measures up to his presence. Unable to keep from touching him simply because I can, I thread our fingers together.

A few heifers with pretty markings linger a few feet away. They lift their heads from their feast of grass and turn their big brown eyes toward us. Not a care in the world. Lucky beasts.

I rest my head against Kase’s shoulder with a sigh and watch them.

“They’re cute. I’ve always thought so.”

He chuckles. “They’re all right. They don’t smell great, which is why I’m not bothering to show you the barn.”

In the distance, a calf prances near its mother. Dozens more adults huddle in groups across the field of green. “How many are there?”

“A hundred and fifteen. They get milked twice a day, every day. Even on holidays.”

“Wow.”

He’s silent a moment. “It’s hard work, and we’re at the mercy of the market for what we’re paid. Edwin’s been doing it his whole life, and there were three generations before that.”

I hesitate, not wanting to offend him with the question on my mind.

“Do you think it’s sustainable?”

He shrugs. “Sure, over time. Have to be able to survive when times are tough, and not get too cocky when things are good. It’s a matter of catching up now. When I left, Edwin had to hire more help to fill the void, and then prices tanked.”

I stare out at the undeniably beautiful landscape. The financial pressures facing the farm are real, but not for lack of hard work. I wish I had some wisdom to offer, but I’m afraid I’m useless to Kase when it comes to advice. All I know is the hotel business, which couldn’t be more different than their operation here.

“How are you going to make it work?”

I look up at him, wishing I saw more confidence in his posture.

He sighs. “Something has to change. But change is risky and expensive. If we take a chance on something new, it could fail and we’ll be worse off than we are right now.”

“Then why not sell? Why not give Edwin the retirement he’ll need one day? Give yourself a chance to start fresh on something you’ll really love.”

“Look at all this.” He gestures out to the pasture, the picturesque landscape of lush green rolling hills against a backdrop of cool blue mountains and sky. “This is the view I grew up with. Same as you. Except you take care of tourists and I take care of cows. It’s a means to getting to stay in this beautiful place. Keeping the farmhouse and all the memories in it. There’s no halfway with what your father wants. It’s all or nothing, and as many problems as it would solve, selling means saying goodbye to everything I’ve known here. Forever. It’s a big decision.”

I can’t argue with him, because I’ve seen the plans to transform the nine hundred acres of property, farmland, and buildings into something dramatically different. Rows of luxury townhomes and overflow vacation rentals that would supplement accommodations at the hotel. Nothing about that plan is compatible with the farm as it stands now.

As my heart begins to sink, Kase kisses the top of my head. “Come on. There’s a lot more to see,” he says, quiet understanding in his eyes.

With no more talk of the business of the farm, we get back in Kase’s truck and drive the perimeter of the property for a while. He points out the different fields where they grow and harvest alfalfa and various crops to feed the farm’s livestock. The property is as vast as the hotel’s. Where ours is manicured, his is functional, every part of it meant to support the dairy operation or supplement their income. Both have their hidden treasures, though.

He points out the apple orchard from a distance, which brings back some vivid memories, but he doesn’t stop until we reach the edge of a field tall with wheat. We park near an enormous red combine, and I follow Kase toward it.

“Am I about to get a lesson in harvesting?”

“I figure while you’re here, might as well give you a ride and get some work done too.” He bounces his keys in his hands, mischief in his eyes. Opening the door, he turns back to help me into the cab. “Hop up.”

Using his firm grip as leverage, I hoist myself up, but there’s only one seat. Before I can point this out, Kase settles me on his lap. I have no idea where to begin but trust that Kase knows what he’s doing.

“Are you sure about this?”

He turns his keys in the ignition. “Hell yeah.” After adjusting a few settings, we’re set in motion. Not fast, not slow. Just the right speed to cut the wheat with minimal waste, he assures me. His focus is trained on the settings and what’s ahead. Then he places my hands on the wheel, covering them with the soft, reassuring weight of his.

“What do I do?”

He points ahead. “Turn up here at the end of the field, and we’ll lap back.”

The combine is enormous compared to anything I’ve ever driven, but Kase is calm and steady, guiding my turns. We take a few more rounds up and down the field. The journey is almost calming once my nervousness settles, and I’m more comfortable with the wheel. Kase’s warmth at my back and encouragement in my ear is a constant reassurance.

“I think we might turn you into a farmer yet,” he says.

I smile. “This is actually pretty fun. I could see myself doing this.”

He laughs softly. “Probably my favorite part of the job. Of course, it’s a lot more fun with you in my lap.”

He skims his hands down the sides of my ribs, digging in just enough to make me squirm. I swat him away.

“Hey, hands on the wheel.” He nuzzles my hair. “This is serious business.”

“You’re just trying to cop a feel.”

He hums, settling his hands on my hips. “Last pass. Then it’s time for lunch. I know just the place.”

Anticipation lights up in my belly as we park the combine and return to the truck. I don’t have to ask where he’s taking us next, because a couple minutes later, he’s driving us over uneven landscape toward the orchard. We go over a bump, and it scoots me to the space right next to him.

He lets his foot off the gas and looks over at me. “You okay?”

I giggle and loop my arm into his. “I’m fine. It’s not even raining.”

He laughs and gives my thigh a squeeze. “Wouldn’t want that ruining our picnic, would we?”

I bite my lip, because I have a feeling he’s thinking about where we left off yesterday.

We park and go to the same spot. I lay out the blanket and kneel down to unpack our lunch. If I don’t occupy myself with that task, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep my hands off Kase. When he sits beside me, I half expect him to toss me onto my back and ravage me. But he surprises me by taking the sandwich I made and tearing into it with a hearty bite.

“Hungry much?”

He swallows and reaches for a water bottle in the basket. “You wore me out last night. I need protein.”

I shove at his arm. “You were the one on a mission.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Says the woman who nearly broke skin begging me to fuck her harder when I was three steps from the bedroom.”

My face heats. Embarrassment prickles under my skin. God, I really was a woman possessed last night. I’m not sure I could have stopped myself, but maybe it was too much.

“I’m sorry.”

He takes another bite, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Are you seriously apologizing?”

“Did I leave marks?”

He takes a swig of water, a smirk curling his lips. “Probably. Won’t be the last time, hopefully. I might leave a mark or two on you someday too. You going to forgive me?”

My cheeks flush even warmer. I think he knows the answer to that already, so I focus on the sandwich in my lap and begin to eat. A few empty minutes pass.

I finish my sandwich and pick up a container of strawberries I’d packed. The fresh fruit is soft and ripe on my tongue. I make a small sound of appreciation and offer one to Kase.

“Try these strawberries. I picked them up at the farm stand down the road the other day.”

He looks down and then into my eyes. “Feed it to me.”

I hesitate a second before bringing it to his mouth. Never breaking eye contact, he consumes the red berry. As I pull away, he grabs my hand and sucks the end of my fingertip as if he missed something. The sensuous lash of his tongue, the velvet texture along the pad of my finger, does something to my insides.

“Delicious. Give me another one,” he says, releasing me.

“You should grow some,” I say.

I wince, realizing the stupidity of what I’ve said. God, I’m so mixed up. One minute I’m expecting Edwin and my father to sign on the dotted line to make this damn sale happen. The next, I’m falling in love with Kase and his dreams.

“Maybe I will.” His calm reply draws my attention back to him.

Not wanting to let him on to my inner turmoil, I bring another berry to his mouth. He takes it between his teeth, and something about the look in his eyes compels me to let my fingertips linger on his lips. He chews, and the second his lips open, I push in, seeking more decadent swipes of his tongue. He takes my hand again, holding me there so he can suck and lick and nip for a long moment.

Everything about it reminds me of his mouth on other parts of me. I’m fixated, at the mercy of his every move, waiting for his next command…