Chapter 4

Four

H enry

Why in the world would I give a job to a woman I’m attracted to?

I ponder this question as I sip my coffee on the front porch. Mist rises over the corn maze I created. Beyond the corn maze is the pumpkin patch, Big Daddy visible all the way from here.

“Because I’m a good guy and Jane needs a job. No way was I going to let her work for that schmuck at the supermarket,” I say to no one.

And because she’s cute, and your first instinct was to keep her as close to you as possible, which means seeing her every day. And the only way to see her every day is to work with her.

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” I tell myself.

Yeah, I talk out loud to myself a lot. I take another sip of coffee, hoping it wakes me up enough that I start to believe the words I say out loud. “You can hire her or date her, but you can’t do both.”

“That’s a relief. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

I turn toward the woman’s voice, almost spilling my coffee.

Oh, shit.

Of course, it’s Jane. Her fitted flannel shirt is tied in a knot at the hem. Jeans hug every curve. Her long hair is tied up into two space buns, and she’s wearing no makeup except a little shine on her lips, looking as pretty as a flower. What impresses me most is Jane wore real shitkickers, which tells me she’s not afraid of hard work.

I have to fire her on the spot. I’m so into staring at this beauty, I’m going to get no work done today.

“I was just talking to myself,” I say dumbly.

“I know,” she says with a wide smile.

“Because you’re my employee and that would be wrong. To ask you on a date,” I add.

“I don’t date much anyway,” she says with a shrug. Her hands are tucked into her back pockets so her elbows stick out. With the sunlight shining from behind her, it looks like she’s got angel wings if I squint real hard. “It’s too hard making arrangements for sitters in a town where I know nobody.”

“So, where’s Sarah today?”

Jane explains that her friend Rocket is babysitting until she’s able to find childcare. “Rocket and I go way back. When I needed a change of scenery, she dropped everything and came to pick me up and brought me here. So…here I am.”

“It’s almost like destiny that we have mutual friends,” I say.

She stares at me.

“I just mean, you were destined to find a job with me.”

“Oh,” she breathes. “Right. And I need one. I sold almost everything so I could have enough money to start over. I sold my Audi to pay off my apartment lease so I wouldn’t get sued for breach of contract, and bought that bucket of bolts,” she rambles, gesturing to her car in the driveway, which is so old I’m shocked I didn’t hear her pull up to the house.

I lean my arm on the porch railing and try to sound casual, though my heart aches at the thought of Jane being in some kind of trouble. “That’s a bummer. Sounds like you had to leave in a hurry.”

She nods. “Rocket was so worried she flew across the country just so I wouldn’t have to travel alone with a toddler. She’s good people.”

Not that I get a vote in the matter of who my best friend Jet settles down with, but this story makes me feel ten times better about his whirlwind romance with Rocket.

“Rocket insists on watching Sarah for me during the day before she goes off to her job at night, and I wouldn’t ask her to babysit on her only nights off. Most guys have no interest in a toddler for a third wheel. So, that’s why I don’t date much.”

Good , I think to myself. Because you’re mine. Right or wrong, you’re the one for me.

I know a good person when I see one, and Jane is a pure and sweet and an amazing mom. I like everything about her.

“Their loss,” I say. We hold each other’s gaze for a few beats before she looks away self-consciously.

“Oh,” she says brightly, and I sense a subject change. “I hope this is OK.” She gestures up and down at her ensemble.

I smile and try not to lick my lips like a total perv. “It’s perfect for you. I mean…”

I don’t finish because she interrupts. “I mean for work. It’s good for the work we’re doing today, right? The guy at the farm store said I needed these boots. If not, I can change out of these clothes.”

“Yes, perfect. You’re perfect with or without those clothes.”

She laughs. “Excuse me?”

Why am I such a creep around this lady? “I mean, yes, that’s a good outfit for what we have to do today. Ignore everything else I said.”

To my relief, she laughs again. Not at me, but with me. I could not possibly like her more. My reckless feelings compel me to memorize the way she nervously fills the silence with her words, and tries to change the subject when everything she says and everything I say has a double meaning. I could talk to her and watch her all day.

“Would you like some coffee before we start?” I offer. “I just brewed a fresh pot.”

She wrinkles up her cute little button nose. “I’m more of a Diet-Coke-in-the-morning person. I know, bad habits.”

I look around. “Sorry, I don’t have any of that.”

Jane turns on a professional expression and says, “Actually, I’m fine. I’m caffed up already. It’s probably best if we keep the socializing to a minimum. For both our sakes. I’d love to go ahead and get started.”

I nod, even though my chest is having that weird ache again. I like an employee who wants to get right to work. I like eager people, even if she’s not eager to be here to get to know me.

“This way to the hay wagon,” I say, heading off to the old restored tractor, to which I’ve hitched up a wagon that’s loaded down with supplies. I offer a hand to help her step up. When she takes it, the touch of her hand does something to me. I feel her, not just across my skin but under it. I squeeze her hand gently before she lets go and finds a spot to sit inside the wagon, both of us pretending we didn’t feel anything at all in that little moment.

It comes as no surprise, but Jane is a hard worker and doesn’t complain once. She’s small but strong.

By the time I’ve decided to break for lunch, the entire footpath through the corn maze has been cleared of debris and silage. I follow the trail around the entire maze—I think—but I can’t seem to find her. I’m worried the lunch I had delivered out here from the diner is going to get cold.

This would be a good reason to have bought walkie-talkies. I add them to the mental list of things to shop for tonight in preparation for opening day. I hadn’t planned on hiring anyone to work this place with me, but if I had, then I would have been prepared. I swiftly climb to the top of the deer blind that I fashioned into a lookout tower, and gaze over the maze. I finally see her. She looks lost.

“Jane, look up!” I wave both arms over my head.

When Jane looks up and sees me, her face breaks open into that heartbreakingly perfect wide smile of hers. She waves back. Every part of me feels relief, right down to my toes. Oddly, my chest stops hurting. I cup my hands over the sides of my mouth to amplify my voice while I help her find her way out. “Go straight ahead! Then turn left, and left again! Good, now right! Right, and go straight until you get to the second left. Now look to your right and you’ll see the exit!”

I bound down the stairs of the lookout tower, water in hand. Jane waltzes out of the exit to the maze, soaked in sweat but smiling. I’m not buying it. “Here,” I say, handing her a bottle of water. “I forgot how hot it can get in there. Drink this.”

“Sorry for getting lost,” she says, gulping down her water.

I scoff. “I’m the idiot who forgot to give you a map.”

She shakes her head while taking another sip. The tiny droplet of sweat dripping down her neck dares me to watch where it goes as it travels over the cords in her neck, pooling for a moment in the dip at the base of her neck between her collarbones.

In my mind, I see myself wrapping my fist around that knot of material at her bellybutton to tug her closer and then covering that tiny pool of sweat with my mouth, tasting it with my tongue, lapping it up, and swallowing.

“No,” she says. “You did give me a map and I lost it. Must have fallen out of my pocket while I was working.”

Only half kidding, I say, “I’ll have it tattooed on you so you don’t lose it again.”

She laughs. “But then what will I do next year when you cut a whole different pattern into the cornfield?”

Before I can stop myself, I reply, “I’ll keep it the same if it means you’ll come back.”

She looks at me incredulously. “I mean, of course, I’m coming back. I love this job already. It’s a great workout.”

Want to hug her. Want to kiss all the sweat off her forehead. Pull her into the shower so we can lather up together, rinse off while we kiss, grope and playfully grapple, then toss her onto my bed and get all kinds of dirty in other ways.

I’m wandering into dangerous territory. My dirty, selfish thoughts are starting to drown out the ethical, logical thoughts.

And I don’t care.