out, and his feet touch mine under the table. “What did you actually do before you came here?”
I look down, heat on my face. “My parents pay my rent, and I worked odd jobs for incidentals. I volunteered with my mother, but other than that, not a whole lot of anything, even though I tried everything. I get bored with things easily, and maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t give everything my all because I am afraid of failure. I come from a lifestyle that allows me to do that.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I realize how pampered I sound.
“Meaning?”
“There were no real consequences to quitting. I won’t starve, and I’ll have a roof over my head. I’m a trust-fund baby.” I put my hand on my face and cringe. “That must sound so horrible to a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
“You know, a farmer, a guy who works outside with his hands, gets them dirty.”
“Is ‘redneck’ the term you’re looking for?”
“No, Jay. That’s not what I mean.” Before I add to that and tell him how much respect I have for what he does, Capone squawks, “Mr. Honey Buns,” and the mood around the table shifts. Jay relaxes, his shoulders falling.
I steal a glance at Capone, who’s settling himself again. “So you got left with the ring and the bird, huh?”
“What was that you said about Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Capone, cover your ears,” I yell and Jay laughs. I stifle a yawn, my body tired from the long day and a night of dancing. “Bed?”
“Bed,” he says and pushes up from his chair.
“Your dad would be really proud of the man you are, Jay.” He toys with the watch on his wrist, the one he always wears. “Did he give you that?”
“Yeah, it was his. He gave it to me before he died. It means a lot to me.”
“It’s nice that you have something of his with you all the time. Like I said, he’d be so proud of you.”
He tugs me to my feet. “For what it’s worth, your people would be proud of you, too, Alyson. You know, there’s always going to be people who don’t see your worth; just make sure you’re not one of those people.”
I gawk at him.
“What?” he asks.
“I kind of recently said those exact words to myself.”
“I guess on some level we believe in the same things.”
My heart flutters. “I’d be so lucky to have your morals, Jay.”
His eyes darken, and he frowns. “No, I’m sure it’s the other way around. Come on, let’s get some sleep.”
I smile, loving the confidence this man has in me and the way he believes in me and helps me believe in myself. I slide my arm around him, and we head upstairs. Once between the sheets, I snuggle in close, loving the warmth of his body next to mine. I’m going to miss this when I move back into my farmhouse. Even more so when I leave here. My heart tumbles.
Maybe I don’t want to leave here. Maybe I could keep farming and at night, write my book about all the crazy experiences I’ve been having since putting a foot down at the Peggy’s Cove lighthouse. I close my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. Wait, what is going on with me? Do I have a plan, a purpose?
Will Jay catch me if I fall?
Jay tugs me in tighter, and the next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes before dawn, eager to get to work before Cluck has a chance to startle me awake. I have never been more motivated to work in my life. Is this what happens to a person when they know what they want to do? When they have direction?
With a new kind of energy zinging through my veins, I turn to gaze at the sleeping man beside me, and my heart does a flip. I am trying so goddamn hard not to fall for him, yet failing a little bit more with each passing day.
I resist the urge to kiss him and slide from the bed. He looks so peaceful and adorable sleeping there, I don’t want to wake him. I hurry into my work clothes, sneak downstairs, and get started on my chores.
First up is milking Sidney and getting her into her pasture. Like a pro, I prepare the buckets, drain her milk, and lead her out of the barn. The sun is a bit higher on the horizon, casting streaks of orange across the