where I know he’s sitting.
He emerges from the shadows, puts his hands on the railing, and looks up at me. I feel our gazes lock together across the distance, connecting us.
I will him to come over, to make the walk from his house to mine.
I’ll gladly open the door if he’ll take the step.
But instead, he blows me a kiss and goes inside.
And I’m alone.
Caden
The kitchen is full when I walk in through the backdoor the following morning. As I stand on the threshold, everyone stops talking and looks at me. The usual people are here—Gwen and Jackson, Natalie, Wyatt, Cat, and Mrs. Potts—but the other people are unfamiliar.
A dark-haired, good-looking Italian guy is sitting next to an even better-looking, tall brunette with stunning features, an Amazon build, and piercing hazel eyes.
Across from Gwen sit two blond-haired beauties, one built like a California swimsuit model, the other like a 1940s pinup.
I smile. “Morning, all.”
The California blonde gives me a long once over before beaming at me, all cunning. “And who might you be?”
“Caden Landry.” Mrs. Potts hands me a cup of coffee, and I take it gratefully, draining half the cup with one gulp. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Caden is our new farm manager, the brilliant one we told you about last night.” Gwen waves in my direction. “Caden, this is my best friend, Jillian, and her husband, Leo.” She points at the two blondes. “And my monster sisters, Payton and Hope.”
The pinup gives me a contained smile. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m the Hope in that monster sandwich.”
“Pleasure, ma’am.”
“And I’m Payton.” The California blonde flashes me another blinding smile. “Aren’t you a tall drink of water?”
At her blatant flirting, I dart a glance to Cat, who’s paying elaborate attention to something Natalie is doing. I kick back, resting against the counter and hooking one ankle over the other. “You’re not too bad yourself, sweetheart.”
Cat’s shoulders tighten. She’s a little jealous. Well, good. It will do her some good. Besides I’ll set her straight soon enough.
Payton chuckles, all throaty. “I might have a good time here after all.”
Gwen leans over and smacks her on the arm. “Behave yourself. God, you’re incorrigible.”
Payton rolls her eyes. “Please, who do you think I learned it from?” She turns and beams at Jackson, all white teeth and sass. “My big sister was a legend. She taught me everything I know about men.”
Jackson laughs, shaking his head before putting his hand on the nape of Gwen’s neck. “Oh really? Tell me more.”
Gwen presses her fingers to her temples. “She’s exaggerating.”
“Am not.” Payton shakes her head. “Aren’t you always telling us to go ruthlessly after what we want and not be shy about it?”
Jackson scrubs a hand over his jaw. “That does sound like you, darlin’.”
“Anyway,” Gwen says, all drawn out and exaggerated. “Let’s talk about the agenda for the day.”
“Oh goody,” Payton says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Hope glances down at her Apple watch. “I’ve got a conference call in fifteen minutes and will be tied up for about three or four hours, but then I’m all yours.”
Payton raises her knees and props her feet on the edge of the chair, giving me a view of her endless legs. “Can’t you take a break for, like, five minutes?”
Hope stares at her sister, wide eyed. “I’m only working four hours today.”
“What a slacker.” Payton sighs. “What do you got for us, Gwen?”
Gwen picks up a sheet of paper. “So, we are all getting drunk later.”
Payton claps her hands. “Finally, the perfect to-do list.”
Gwen laughs. “Cat, is everything for the mixologist taken care of? She’ll be here around one.”
I speak up. “I’m working with Cat to get that done.”
Cat gives me a little scowl, but she doesn’t fool me. I know she’s happy about it.
Gwen smiles. “Perfect. We’ll start drinking around four to sample everything. I figure it’s best to dine alfresco, so as not to distract from the drink concoctions. Then tomorrow we’ll do the menu run-through with the cocktail selections and see how everything works as a cohesive dining event.”
Gwen keeps going, rattling off a bunch of other items on her list and tasking them out to various people in the room with the practiced ease of a woman used to taking charge.
When there’s finally a break in the conversation, I address Cat, ready to get on with the day before Gwen assigns us any more work. “Catarina, are you ready to get started?”
Jackson raises a brow, but I ignore it, focused on the woman who’s