Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
John Elliott is a busy man. He runs his farm and his business, keeping to himself, with no time for anything else in his life.
Quinn Harper is a single mother, looking for a fresh start.
The small town she picked seemed perfect—until her first run-in with John.
They strike sparks of the wrong kind and insist that keeping their distance is for the best.
Yet, despite his growly nature and curt tone, he is sweet to her daughter.
And he finds himself looking for reasons to be in Quinn’s company.
Do things that make them both smile. Make him feel happy.
Sparks sizzle into a low, banked fire.
And then an inferno erupts.
Neither wanted it.
But now, they can’t live without it.
Author's Get ready to swoon over a rugged farmer with a hidden heart of gold, falling for a fearless single mom and her charming little girl.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
JOHN
Iheard Laura’s truck pull up outside, the sound of her squealing brakes announcing her arrival. I rolled my eyes as I reached for another coffee mug. I needed to look at her brakes. Maybe her husband, Bob, and I could work on them this weekend. Now that the planting was done and the crops in, I had a little more time on my hands.
I snorted with amusement as I added cream to Laura’s coffee. More time.
I wish.
The screen door banged open, and my nephew Cody rushed in. “Uncle J!”
“Hey, big man, careful with that door. It’s old.”
He laughed, not caring. “Can I get the eggs?”
I nodded. “You know where the basket is. And the deal. Every one you get and clean, you can sell and keep the money.”
He grinned. “I know. But I have to save you six.”
“Yep. Breakfast.”
“Got it!”
He rushed past his mother, who was walking in, juggling her purse, a laptop bag, and a sack of groceries. I hurried forward, grabbing the sack and the laptop bag about to slip off her shoulder. “Stop being so stubborn and ask for help,” I demanded, leaning down to buss her cheek. “And stop buying me groceries. I’m a grown man and can look after myself.”
She chuckled and set down her purse, taking the bag from me. “I’m aware you can, but you don’t. I saw the empty fridge when I was here on the weekend.”
“I’ve been busy in the fields. Restocking is on the list.”
“Well, I bought you a few days. And stop spoiling Cody. You don’t have to pay him for chores.”
“He’s working toward a goal. I’m not going to miss some egg income,” I chuckled dryly. “It teaches him.”
She sighed. “You have always spoiled him.”
“He’s a good kid. He deserves it.”
I watched affectionately as Laura unpacked and filled the fridge with the basics. My freezer was full, but during planting time, I did tend to forget to keep up with incidentals. I had lots of food, but most of it was frozen. It was a good thing the microwave and I were fast friends. In the winter months, I stocked up on premade meals so when I came in from the fields, tired, hot, and sweaty, I could pop in a bowl of stew or chili and let it heat as I showered.
But I had to admit, I appreciated the lunch meat, bread, cheese, and assortment of fruit and vegetables she placed on the shelves. I didn’t need eggs or milk since my chickens and dairy cows supplied me with both. I bought my meat from local farmers, often trading my goods for theirs. During harvest, we all worked together in the community. Everything, down to the cheese I bought, was local and handmade.
I sat down as she finished, tucking her burlap sack into her laptop bag and pulling out her computer. “Down to business.”
“Not a social call, then?” I asked dryly.
“I finished the tax files and the year-end.” She slid a file my way. “Look them over, sign, and I’ll submit.”
“Got it.”
“And I got an inquiry on 221. They’re sending the application today.”
“Oh, great. No viewing?”
“A friend of theirs—Cathy Rawlings from Mitchell—came and saw it. Said it would work well. I told her if they wanted to see it, they could tomorrow.”
I scratched my chin. “The name is familiar.”
“Used to be Cathy Jones. She married Bart and moved to Mitchell. The applicant is a friend of hers.”
“Ah, explains it. So we have a reference.”
She nodded. “They want fast possession.”
“Great. It’s empty, so that works.”
She flipped through some papers as she sipped her coffee. “I renewed the leases on the other three properties. The house on Renfrew has another two years on their lease.”
“Awesome. Satisfied customers.”
She laughed. “Great little houses, well-kept, and decent rent. Why would they want to move?”
“That’s my goal. I’m thinking of bidding on the old schoolhouse. Turning it into two apartments.”