bubbling in her throat, like my presence is throwing her off. I know the feeling. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me,” she teases.
“I was here first,” I say. “You must be the one stalking me.”
Colin snorts.
“What?” we both ask.
He sets his beer down, and it clunks on the cracked and dented table. “I’ve seen two bullfrogs flirt better than that.”
“We weren’t flirting,” Alyson blurts out. “I’m just here to get my order.”
“Looks like it’s ready.” I nod to the brown paper bag on the counter, and she trots off in her ridiculous shoes.
“She’s fucking hot.” Colin angles his head for another look. “Isn’t that Jack’s shirt?”
The main door opens again, and in walks none other than Charlie Miller. He grunts something at us—we are not friends—and plops down at the neighboring table. Steven Banks, another local farmer and father to the girl Tyler is hanging with tonight, takes a seat across from Charlie. Ignoring them, I focus on Colin and toy with the label on my beer.
“Airline lost her clothes.” I shake my head as she pays for her order and hurries out, only to come rushing back in again and get a straw. The few people in the room, men and women alike, watch her. Because everyone who lives here in farm country knows she doesn’t have what it takes to survive here.
“City girl, huh?” Colin says.
“Yeah, and she has no clue what she’s doing. She said she might not even make it through the night, and I give her one month at the most,” I say, thinking about how long Juanita lasted. “She’ll be running back to New York.”
“I don’t doubt that, my friend,” Colin says. He tips his bottle in salute and takes a drink. “I’d bet the farm on it.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I say. “I’d bet my entire farm that she’ll be packing before the month is over.”
“Is that right?” Charlie Miller asks from two chairs over.
My gaze slides to his. “What?” I ask.
“You want to place a bet?”
“Not with you,” I say, anger burning in my stomach.
“Chicken?”
“Fuck off,” I say.
Charlie pushes from his chair, seats himself down next to me, and in a voice meant for my and Colin’s ears only, he says, “You want a chance to win your parcel of land back, boy?” he asks.
My head lifts, taking the bait. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re betting the farm that little missus will leave in a month, I’m betting she doesn’t.”
My entire body tenses. “What do you know about her?”
He gives a casual shrug. “Nothing, just dropped by to say hello. Neighborly thing to do. Even mentioned Bryce was looking to buy the place.”
“If you don’t think she’s staying, either, why would you make this bet?”
“Maybe I feel bad that I took your father’s land all those years ago. I guess you were just a young’un doing what young’uns do. Maybe I overreacted.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Call it what you will, but this is a chance to get your daddy’s land back.”
At my mention of my father, my heart thumps. I’m the goddamn reason he’s dead, the goddamn reason he lost the land. If only I hadn’t been a reckless teenager and instead helped at the farm. Maybe then he wouldn’t have had a heart attack from overworking. I can’t bring him back, but I’d just finished telling myself I’d do anything to get the land back.
Colin grabs me and pulls me to him. “Take the bet, Jay. You said so yourself, she was leaving. She said she’d be lucky to make it through the night. You’ve got nothing to lose. This is a sure thing. Maybe old Charlie is feeling remorse, and without making himself look weak, this is his way to get the land back into your hands. I mean, Christ, he never developed it. You’d be a fool not to bet on a sure thing.”
I shake my head. Even drunk, Colin makes sense.
“Well, what will it be, boy?” Charlie asks.
Chapter Five
Alyson
“What the ever-loving hell is going on?”
I jackknife up and glance around the still-dark room, trying to orient myself in this strange new environment. The faint smell of cigar smoke combined with a deep woodsy cologne stirs my senses as the single mattress beneath me squeaks. I turn, take in my surroundings, and the tumblers fall into place as the stupid rooster next door squawks again.
Old MacDonald had a farm.
For some reason, that thought makes me laugh, almost uncontrollably. As my heart pounds—it’s been racing since I stepped foot