Mason delivers on lunch. The bacon tomato melt is exactly what I need. The peach pie Silas and I split is the icing on the cake, so to speak. I am completely satisfied and full by the time Silas takes care of the check.

“You pay at your own restaurant?” I ask as he stands and holds his hand out for me. Surprisingly I take it without hesitating. I try to ignore how easy accepting his touch has become in just a few short hours.

“Uh yeah? Don’t you usually pay when you dine out?” he asks. We say goodbye to Shelby before we walk back out into the heat. We climb into the truck and Silas is suddenly quiet. He talked all through lunch, so I’m taken aback by his sudden silence as soon as he’s behind the wheel. And then I remember, this is just for pretend.

“I’ll give you the driving tour and then I gotta drop you off. I have some shit to take care of.”

“You don’t have to give me a tour.”

“Yes, I do. This isn’t for you. It’s for my guys. If Shelby knows, the whole farm knows. It’s better if I bring you around and introduce you to everyone now. It’ll make it easier on the both of us and we can go back to our regular jobs.”

“Jesus,” I say under my breath. Even though I appreciate the help, the theatrics…

“Hey—”

“I know!” I shout at him. “This wasn’t your idea. Just fucking drive.” I clam up and turn toward the window. Silas backs out, then points the truck toward the entrance, in the opposite direction of his house. He drives out to the main road and takes a right a little faster than I appreciate. Then he makes a dramatic show of making a u-turn right in the middle of the road. He pulls over on the side, then I feel him jam the truck into park. I stare at the white fences, ignoring the feeling of his staring at the back of my head. “What?” I mutter after a long minute.

“Welcome to McInroy’s Farm!” he announces in a sing-songy way. I think about smacking him, but I restrain myself. Finally, I turn to him. I can feel my right eye starting to twitch. “Here’s the deal.”

“Oh, there’s a deal?” I say.

“I—”

“No. For real. Shut the fuck up for one minute.”

He sags back in his seat and I get a glimpse of Scott. He does the same thing when meetings run long. “Fine. Sorry, go ahead.”

“We don’t have to be friends. We barely know each other. All of this is weird, but you’re gonna be fucking nice to me, okay?” I say, tacking on a silent reminder that this is not the time for me to start crying. “I just watched you be sweet as hell to everyone in that cafe. You were even sweet as hell to me. I don’t know what kind of sociopath you are that you can turn it on and off, with such intense extremes, but it’s really fucking strange and I’m not feeling it.

“I’m guessing that you’re nice to your employees and guests all the time and not just when you feel like it. So. How about you just add me to the list of people that you are consistently cordial to. If that’s too much to ask, just let me know. I don’t know if I can catch a Lyft out here, but I’m sure I can convince Mason or someone to get me to the nearest bus station. I don’t need this shit from you. Not now.”

He lets out a deep breath and something tells me he’s not done giving me shit. He knows I’m not playing with him, but this is Scott’s twin. Even though I love Scott, I know he loves pushing my buttons when he doesn’t understand the weight of a situation. This is clearly something they have in common. I get it. Brook and I have similarities that drives our friends up the wall, but we have enough home training to know when to chill the fuck out.

I swallow, hating the way shit is starting to stir up in my chest again and then I feel my eyes burning. I’m not fast enough to catch the first tear, but I keep a straight face as I wipe it away. I scrub my eyes, making sure no other tears leak out.

Silas lets out another breath. “You’re right.” He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. “All this time and he still gets under my skin.”

“I’m not your brother.”

“I know. I know you’re not. Listen. I—” A horn blares and we both look up. He’s not blocking the road. Silas laughs again. This time it feels real. He rolls down his window and waves up a shiny black pick-up. It pulls up beside us. I tilt my head and see an elderly black couple sitting in the cab.

“Reverend. Lucy,” Silas says. His back is to me and I can hear the smile in his voice. A real smile.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t broken down,” the woman, Lucy, says.

“No, no. I was just giving my girl here a proper tour. This is my girlfriend, Ebie.”

I wave and offer a warm hello. I hope my eyes aren’t red.

“Told you, James. Pay up.”

“My love life has you two gambling now?” Silas asks.

“It was that bad, huh?” I manage to say with my own smile even though my eyes are still burning.

“Honey, don’t let this scare you away. He’s just long overdue.”

“I’ve heard,” I reply.

“We’ll see you in there?” Lucy asks.

“I’m gonna drop her off when we’re finished, but I’ll see you two later.” Silas replies.

“Will do. Nice to meet you, Ebie,” Lucy says. Her husband offers me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and then he pulls into the farm.

“Fuck,” Silas groans once they are a distance down the road.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He sighs, then turns back to me. “Where were we?”

“You were going to tell me my emotions aren’t your problem and I should be grateful for a free lunch and a place to sleep.” I shove my hair behind my ear and look out the window at the thick forest lining the side of the road just beyond another white fence. “We can pretend, but I am too fucking tired to do this on and off.”

“I was going to say that you’re right. I am being a dick.” My tears ducts have managed to pull it together so I turn around and give him my full attention. “I hate my brother. We’re not just ‘beefing’,” he says with air quotes. “It took me years to reach this point with him. We have an understanding and last night he violated that by contacting me. I’m on two hours of sleep and I’m pissed at Scott. There’s no reason I should take that out on you. You sleep like a maniac, but you actually seem pretty cool and you deserve respect and civility, not my shitty attitude. Can we start over?” He holds out his hand to shake mine. I look at it for a long moment, twisting the corner of my lip, considering if I’m willing to let him off the hook.

“Seriously, snap at me one more time and I’m leaving, right after I smack the shit out of you. I’ll figure this shit out on my own,” I say and then I shake his hand.

“Deal. What do you want to do right now? We don’t have to do a tour. You can remain mysterious until you run into my guys or not. However you want to play it.”

“I actually would like a tour. Scott never mentioned this place and I’ve never been to an apple—sorry, a farm that offers a wide variety of produce before. I would like to see it. Plus I’m avoiding work emails for as long as I can.”

“Well by all means, allow me to waste your time.”

* * *

It’s way too hot to walk the whole grounds. Well, way too hot for me. There are tons of families and groups out and about, picking peaches, visiting the animals and heading in and out of the cafe, and they are clearly planning to make a sticky, sweaty day of it. When Silas offers to spare me the heat and humidity as we drive around the grounds, I do not object.

He points out the McInroy’s Mercantile and the cannery. We drive by the petting zoo and the barns, and then veer off on a small dirt road and drive by this large pond that is visible from the public area, but closed off to customers. Silas tells me it’s for aesthetics only. When I ask him if he’s ever gone swimming in the pond he just glances over at me before looking back at the road. His expression is blank. Still, doesn’t stop my brain from going right to the image of a naked Silas sprinting for the water’s edge.

Then we drive out to the peach orchard. We pull up to a white truck loaded down with trailers hitched to trailers, hitched to trailers, hauling dozens of large white crates each. Half are filled with hundreds of peaches. Each member of the crew has the blue cloth bucket things strapped to their chests and they are cruising pretty damn quick from tree to tree, filling each bucket.

He tells me I have to give up the air conditioning for five minutes, so I get out and he introduces me to the small crew he has working on the peach harvest. I watch as an older Black woman, who Silas later introduces to me as Tina, walks over and bumps a pile of peaches into one of the half full crates. The picking crew is too hot and busy to say anything beyond hello, but the head of the crew, Reggie, does insist on catching up with me later. He looks Silas dead in the eye and tells him he has questions, before they both start laughing. Then Silas turns to me and takes my hand.

True to his word, Silas manages to keep the stick out of his ass while we drive around the property, but now that we are in earshot of his staff and friends again, he is laying it on pretty thick. I play along and smile up at him as he leans down and kisses the side of my forehead.

“You want to learn how to pick a peach?”

“Yeah. Show me.”

We walk a few yards ahead of the crew, toward one of the untouched trees. “Here.” I let Silas take my hand and guide it up to a large, bright orange peach bunched up with a twin on the thin branch. “You wanna make sure you’re getting enough of the stem, but not damaging the tree. We have certain areas reserved for U-pick, for that very reason. Fucking up the branch is no good.”

“I always thought peach trees would be taller for some reason.” I’m eye level with a lot of the fruit.

“No. It works well though. You need a ladder for fruits like apples and oranges. You can pick these while standing. Now grab it here and give it a little twist,” he says like he isn’t guiding my fingers. It takes a little more pressure than I expected, but the peach pops off the branch and into my palm. Silas lets go and lets me hold the piece of fruit. I test its weight. It’s a big ass peach. I look up at him.

“Hmm,” I say, making a little sound to let him know I’m impressed.

“Hmm,” he replies.

“This is a very impressive piece of fruit. You’ve done well for yourself.”

“And you’ve picked your first peach. How does it feel?”

“Good. Like I’ve really contributed. I’m sure Reggie would love to have me on his crew.”

“I would!” Reggie yells from a few trees down. “But only on the house. You’ll have to talk to your man about pay.”

“She’s on vacation, man. Don’t think she’ll want to be my girlfriend much longer if I put her to work.”

“You mean all I had to do to get out of work was date you?” one of the guys yells.

“You’re not my type, Brack!” Silas calls back, before he turns to me and holds out his hand. It takes me a second to realize he wants the peach.

“Oh, here.”

“I’d let you taste this one, but it’s not fully ripe. Maya and Ginny have tons of fresh ones back at the cannery. You can try one when we get back.” I follow Silas back to the crates where he drops the peach into the pile. We say goodbye to Reggie and his crew and return to the sweet air conditioned relief of Silas’s truck. We drive back to the cannery and sure enough there is Honeycrisp running around under the shade of a tree with Hank. Silas parks and turns to me.

“So as you’ve seen, everyone else will be interested in your surface details, like the fact that you exist. Maya and Ginny will tell you they are my best friends, so they’ll have questions.”

“They run the cannery?” He hasn’t told me what the cannery is yet.

“Yeah. Maya and Ginny make all of our jams and honeys and sauces. We sell them here at the store and online. They have a whole tasting bar inside. Don’t worry.”

“That’s the information I was looking for. So they’re nosey. Got it. I’ve heard that staying as close to the truth as possible is best. Less slip ups. Either of them versed in the law? Have any follow up questions?”

“No. They are firmly farm folk.”

“I’ll just tell them the truth and leave out bits like my real name and the name of my firm, but—shit.”

“What?”

“They are totally going to look me up.”

“What?”

“They are going to look me up on the internet.”

“Why?”

“Jesus, you really don’t get out much. Stalking someone on the internet is like the A-number one thing most people do, especially since you kept me a secret. They are going to go digging.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. You and He Who Shall Not Be Named should have thought this through a little more.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind the next time a murderer breaks into my place,” I snap back. “Couldn’t even make it a whole hour, could you?”

Silas’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds before he licks his lips and hopefully rethinks his take on this whole situation for the fifth time. “I’m sorry. Seriously. I’m trying. How about this, tell them that I told you to stay mum about your personal life, then just ask them a hundred questions about fresh produce and making jam. Maya is nosy, but Ginny cares more about jam and ‘flavor infusions’ than anything.”

“I can definitely do that. I know fuck all about jam so at least my curiosity will come off as sincere. God, that sounded horrible.”

“No, it sounded smart. Let’s go.”

I open my door and again, before I can even get all the way out of the truck, Silas is rushing around to my side and helping me out. I thank him and take his hand as he leads me toward another building decorated with hay bales wrapped in plaid fabric. As soon as Honeycrisp spots me she runs over and licks my hand. Hank is right behind her. He seems more interested in Silas, who bends over and gives him a rough pat as we walk.

“Hey girl. Is that the McInroy tartan?” I ask Silas.

“It is. My dad wanted to name this McInroy’s Apple Manor, but my mom wouldn’t let him.”

“Smart woman.”

We make it a few more feet before my phone starts ringing. The ringtone I have set for the office. “Hold on.” I stop walking and pull it out of my bag. I barely get out a hello before Caroline replies in a panic.

“Hi Miss Lewis, I know you’re out of the office, but Mr. Murrell really wants an update of the Fullerton case.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as this tight feeling settles over my body. I know that feeling well, and it feels so much more distinct today. Heavier. It’s work mode. My brain immediately starts shuffling through emails and documents. I know it wouldn’t take me long to get the information that Murrell wants, and I know that will effectively end my apple farm adventure for the day.

“I’m just out getting lunch. Let him know I’ll be back at my computer in ten minutes.”

“Okay. Thank you. He’s on a bit of a tear today. I’ll wait a few minutes before I tell him you’ll be back at your desk in five minutes,” she says.

“Good idea. Thanks Caroline.” I end the call. We’ve been standing in the sun for less than a minute and sweat is already gathering under my bangs. “I have to go back. I have to work. Will your friends be mad if I meet them later?”

“Yeah, but I don’t care. I’d love to make them wait. I’ll drop you at the house.”

We head back to the truck. Honeycrisp and Hank are having too much fun to join us this time. When we get back to the farm house, Silas shows me where I can set up shop at the kitchen table. He also shows me the switch to the ceiling fan and opens the back door so I’ll get a nice cross breeze. He seems confused for a moment when I tell him he should really lock his wifi and then he leaves me to my work with the promise that he’ll reappear at some point with dinner.

I settle in and answer all of Murrell’s fucking questions and return all the calls I’ve missed so far today. I keep working. Silas comes back a little after dark with a burger, salad and fries. I destroy the burger and pick at the salad and the fries. He says something about sleep deprivation and then disappears. I finally glance at the clock at nine forty-five and realize my legs are stiff and I really need to pee. I have a few more emails to send, but I’ve earned a pee break.

I make my way to Silas’s room. Joe Namath is asleep on the floor by the door. Inside, Silas is dead asleep on top of the sheets. The AC’s blowing and the lights are still on. I use the bathroom and my body starts to move on autopilot back to the kitchen when I catch a glimpse of Silas’s sleeping form. Honeycrisp is sitting back on her haunches in the doorway looking at me.

“You waiting for me to come to bed?” I say to her quietly. She cocks her head at me as if to say “Well duh.”

I go back to the kitchen. I close the back door and grab my laptop. I turn off the light, but leave the fan on. This place needs to air out. When I get back to Silas’s bedroom, I perform the bare minimum to get ready for bed. After I wrap my hair, I cut the light and climb on the bed. Honeycrisp makes her move and settles on top of the covers near my feet. It’s so quiet. All I can hear is the air conditioning and the light sound of Silas breathing, but the quiet isn’t enough to distract me. I’m out as soon as I close my eyes.

* * *

I’m having a dream. Silas is fucking me from behind. It feels so good. I’m so wet and aching, but something’s off. I can feel him all around me, not in me. It’s not enough. I keep trying to get him to fuck me harder, I keep squirming back, and nothing seems to be working. Suddenly there’s a weird pain around my middle. It’s my ribs. My ribs are killing me. The sharp pain yanks me awake. My body knows to wiggle enough up the bed to loosen the grip, but it’s still a few more seconds before my brain processes that Silas’s arm is wrapped around my stomach. Silas’s mouth against the side of my neck.

I hold still, try to catch my breath. Later I think about how hard I’m breathing and why, but for now I ignore that the pain in my ribs is joined by the sensation of my body trying to chase a serious orgasm. My pussy is still clenching on itself and Silas’s cock is rubbing back and forth along the side of my ass, onto my hip. I freeze, but he’s still going, rutting his crotch against me. Even though I was able to release the pressure on my ribs, he still has a pretty firm grip on my tit with his other hand. I don’t know what to do.

“Silas,” I say. He doesn’t answer me. I don’t think he hears me. I say his name again, but he doesn’t stop. I realize why when he presses his face against my shoulder. He’s close. He’s about to come. At some point in the night I got under the sheet, but he’s still on top and his cock has slipped through the slit in his boxers. That doesn’t stop the heat of him from reaching my skin through the sheet and my shorts. I don’t know what I’m thinking when I reach down and slide my hand over him. I can feel how long and thick he is even if I can’t see that well in the dark. The size of his cock matches the size of the man.

I run fingers over the veins in his smooth skin and almost let out a whimper of my own as he groans against my skin. I hold still and let him keep on with what he’s doing as I use my hand to tease the head of his cock and the shaft as it slips back and forth between my hand and the sheet. He makes another desperate noise, gripping me tight again and then I feel his erection twitch as he shoots all over my cotton covered hip. Neither of us say anything after he comes. I know my brain isn’t working. I’m still wet, still so fucking turned on and he’s still wrapped around me, his heart thudding against my back.

I think about the way he kissed me earlier and how a part of me was waiting the rest of the day for him to do it again. We’re past that point. Of course we are. It’s fucked up for sure, but I realize then, with all this shit going on, this bad, bad shit, I want to feel something good. I roll over and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I press my lips against his. He doesn’t respond at first, but I take advantage of the fact that his lips are slightly parted and slide my tongue against his. I savor the taste of his mouth for a half a second before Silas jerks to the side.

On the swing back, his forehead smacks against mine. It happens fast, so fast it’s a miracle that neither of us takes a chunk out of my tongue. We both fall back on the bed, a string of loud swears coming from each of us. My hand goes to my forehead and I’m shocked that it doesn’t come away covered in blood, it’s pounding so hard.

“Jesus fuck,” Silas groans. I feel him moving on the bed, but I don’t open my eyes yet. The Earth is still spinning off kilter. When I finally do, I see he’s moved over to the edge of the mattress, his feet planted on the floor. He’s holding his head in his hands.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a few more curses slip out.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What the fuck just happened? Were you kissing me?”

I stare at him for a second, the cut of his rejection just as bad as the pain in my ribs and my head. “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, okay? You seemed pretty into that idea at the time.”

I see him turn toward me in the near dark. I can’t see his face in the shadows, but I can hear the confusion in his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how I woke up to you humping the shit out of me. I—Sorry I went along with it.”

“I—what?” he says before he turns back and looks down at his crotch. I’m pretty sure his dick is still out of his boxers. “What the fuck?” he whispers, more to himself. “I—uh, I wasn’t awake. I was dreaming. Where did I…” He reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp. I’m thankful it’s not too bright, but bright enough for him to get a look at the puddle of jizz on the sheet still draped over my body. He reaches over and touches the biggest of the wet spots. “Jesus.”

“You were asleep?” I ask him. “That whole time?”

He swallows before he looks me in the eye. “Yes.” He stands suddenly and starts tucking himself back into his shorts. I look away and scramble off the other side of the bed.

“Where do you keep your clean sheets?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he yanks the sheet off the bed and storms out of the room, leaving me standing there. The heat is rising up my face to meet my still throbbing forehead. I look over at Honeycrisp who must have fled over to her usual seat in the leather chair sometime during our nocturnal mating session. She glances up at me before she closes her eyes. She doesn’t give a shit about our petty problems.

Silas comes back a few minutes later with a clean sheet. He flings it out over the mattress and tucks it around the foot of bed. “There,” he says, not looking at me. I don’t bother trying to get another word out of him. I put myself out of my misery and climb under the fresh sheet. I roll on my side and face the dresser. I feel the mattress dip under his weight. The light cuts off and then the sheet moves a little. He’s under there with me, but I feel how far away he is.

We’re both quiet. My chest is killing me. I swallow and swallow again. I try not to breathe. I reach up and wipe a few tears out of the corners of my eyes. I swallow again and the tears stop. I hear Silas sigh. I hear and feel him shuffle. I try not to flinch when his hand comes down on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says for the fiftieth time. I don’t respond. I can’t. I don’t trust the sounds of my voice and I can’t stand the lies I’ll be forcing myself to tell. I pull the sheet up to my face and swallow again and let the cotton soak up my tears. He pulls his hand away. He’s snoring by the time my tears stop. I pray he’ll be gone in the morning before I wake up.