5. Ethan

My grandmother isup to something. I don't know why she's meddling and sending Lia and me out for lunch, but I don't like it. I do know it's hard to concentrate on the road when I'm driving Lia Thorne in my pickup truck, engulfed in the floral scent of her shampoo.

My body forgets the years that have passed since I was allowed to drape my arm around her shoulders in the cab, and I have to keep my right hand securely on the gear shift, so I don't mess up and invade her space.

"I appreciate the ride." Lia keeps her eyes straight ahead, same as me. She's got her hands folded in her lap, thumbs tapping against one another like she's as nervous as me about this situation.

"No sense taking two vehicles. How's that for sustainable practices?"

A tinkling laugh slips out of Lia's mouth and I turn to face her, just for a moment, seeing a smile light up her face. "Ethan Bedd, did you just make a joke?"

My mouth cocks into a half grin. "Now, why on earth would I do something like that?" Dang it, I am flirting with this woman. I need to knock that off. I school my features and keep my eyes on the road, reminding myself that she betrayed our trust as a family.

Except, the more I think about it, the more I see she was doing her duty and protecting Grandad's privacy, even though she knew he was making bad decisions. Maybe I need to redirect my frustration at Grandad, but that doesn't do anyone any good. The man is dead. I clear my throat. "It's nice that your company sent you for this. You know, instead of a stranger."

"I asked them to come. It's kind of a promotion for me…a trial run to see how much of the loan I can recoup. I've been sort of stuck in the same role the past few years. I've been worried they see me as expendable." Lia bites her lip, as if she realizes she basically told me she's using our family crisis to get a leg up at work. I'm back to my sour mood just as fast as I slipped into pleasantries.

"Well. Anyway, I'd rather talk to you about it than a stiff suit who's never held a newborn lamb."

From the corner of my eye, I see Lia smile again, a broad, glowing expression that shifts the energy in the truck cab. "That was such a cool night. Best part-time job I ever had. How many teenagers get to miss school because they were up helping the vet deliver twin sheepies?"

I snort. "You still calling ‘em sheepies? Maybe you aren't the stiff in the suit after all." I turn into the gravel lot outside the diner, happy to see just a few cars there. I guess we'll beat the lunch rush and avoid too much gossip.

"I do wear a lot of power suits when I meet with clients." Lia has to shove her seatbelt buckle a few times to release the latch. I used to help her with that. It doesn't feel right to reach into her lap just now. She finally frees the buckle and hops out of the cab. I follow her up the steps to the diner, reaching past her to open the door for her.

I swallow a lump in my throat as she presses against me in order to fit through the door to the restaurant. I have no business thinking about how her ass feels through the fabric of my pants. Lia smiles her way through small talk with Latonya, who was a long-time employee here before I was even born.

Latonya sets us up in a booth near the back and I take the seat facing the door so that Lia is hidden by the back of the bench. I figure folks are less likely to approach me since they know I don't gab about weather or sports. They've all already said what there is to say about Grandad's passing.

I briefly wonder whether Lionel blabbed about the finances at all, but Latonya interrupts this train of thought by pouring me a cup of coffee before I can set my hand over the mug. "You're going to have me up all night, LT. You make it pretty strong."

"Well what good is weak coffee, Ethan Bedd?" She pats my shoulder. "I'll bring you the milk in a sec. You two know what you want?"

I open my mouth to tell her the usual—I always just get the special because I figure the cook thinks it's the best choice—but Lia says she needs a few minutes and Latonya walks off to wait on other patrons. "Hm." Lia was never one to fuss about her food before. But she's a city gal now. Woman. Lia is a city woman.

She frowns at the menu and sighs. "I'm not entirely sure there's anything here I can eat."

"What do you mean? Don't tell me you're doing one of those kayto fads, or whatever it's called." I sip at my coffee, forgetting I haven't added the milk yet. I nearly spit out the bitter, viscous brew but I control myself and swallow it, setting the mug down and accidentally brushing Lia's hand with my knuckle. I snap my hand back like I've been burned.

She worries her lower lip and sets the laminated menu on the table. "I have some health stuff, and I feel better when I avoid certain foods."

"Health stuff? Which foods?" This is all news to me, both that Lia has something wrong, and that food can be a cause. Maybe she has allergies. I remember toward the end of high school when she had an upset stomach pretty regularly. But the doctors all told her it was just nerves about graduating and going away to school.

Lia waves a hand. "It's a lot of foods. Wheat, dairy…"

"Well, dairy's in just about everything around here at least." I tap my fingers on the table and smile when Latonya comes back with my tiny pitcher of milk. "Appreciate it," I tell her, pouring all of it into the mug to try and make the drink palatable.

"Yes, I know dairy is in everything. Hence why I don't think I can get anything here."

I frown at the menu. Half the lunch choices are sandwiches or pasta, so those are all out on account of the wheat. The salads here all have croutons. I continue to scour, unsure why I feel compelled to find something she can stomach. "What about the chicken nuggets?"

She shakes her head. "Breaded. Probably fried, too, which is also terrible for me. It's okay. I'm used to this." Lia smiles up at Latonya, who returns with her notepad in hand. "Can I have a double portion of the fruit cup?"

Latonya raises her dark brows until they disappear in her white curls. "Fruit cup in February isn't much to write home about. What about canned peaches instead?"

Lia beams. "That sounds perfect, thank you."

"Put a little cream on them for you?"

"No cream." I blurt this with an assertiveness that startles all three of us. I clear my throat. "She just wants it straight up, LT, thank you. I'll have the special."

"Special and peaches, both straight up. Got it." She winks and hustles away as Lia sips at her water.

I absolutely cannot focus on her pink lips around that straw, so I dive into the next worse topic of conversation. "So. You want to turn Bedd Fellows Farm into an organic vegetable operation?"

Lia shakes her head and pushes her water to the side. Her hand slips to a bracelet around her wrist and she starts absentmindedly fiddling with the diamonds. Hmm. "Nope. I have an idea and I want you to listen to the whole thing before you snort, growl, or slap the table."

I gesture for her to continue, even as I have to grit my teeth at the thought of making big changes to my grandfather's legacy operation.

"Hear me out, Ethan. Strawberries."

"Strawberries?"

She nods. "They need a lot of nitrogen, which you have in spades from years of soybean growth. They like growing near legumes, so they won't mind the rest of the farm sprouting up around the beds. And they're an early crop, so you can harvest in spring to get an influx of cash."

"Strawberries." I blink at her. I have never grown a strawberry in my life. What does Lia know about growing them? They strike me as too delicate. And how in the hell do you transport them? We don't have infrastructure for any of that.

Lia nods again and takes another sinful sip of water from that straw. "Mm hm. We'll have to plan a market on the property to meet the grant requirements, really bring in the community. I wonder if Colleen can bring her students for a field trip and if that will count as a teaching facility…"

She fingers the bracelet again and catches me staring at it, and her hand flies to her purse. Lia rummages for a notebook, scribbling furiously while Latonya sets a bowl of peaches on her side of the table and a platter of meatloaf on mine.

"Did I hear you say Bedd Fellows is going to host a strawberry picking this year? I love that! My grandchildren love doing those kind of pick-your-own things. Always eat more than they carry out, but who can get mad about kids eating fresh fruit?"

Lia laughs, that tinkling sound again. It seems to come so naturally to her still, laughter. She makes a face at me that conveys See? I told you so, and says, "I totally agree, Latonya. We hope to share more information about picking opportunities real soon."

"You working with Ethan and Ethel and all the rest? That's so nice. I wondered why you came back to town after all this time."

Lia pokes at one of the canned peaches with her fork. "Sort of. I'm staying with my brother and yes, we'll be planning this event together."

Latonya pats the table. "That sounds real nice, Lia. And I'm glad Asher has someone staying with him. He and Ethan are both turning into hermits."

I whip my face toward hers. "I'm here, aren't I? I get out."

"Mm hm." Latonya walks away, muttering about grouchy old white boys and Lia laughs again.

I shove a forkful of meatloaf into my mouth, chew it too fast, and swallow it, necessitating another gulp of the too-strong coffee. "Strawberries," I say again once I've swallowed.

"I think we can get you clear of foreclosure with ten acres," she says, like it's nothing. "We've got til March before you'd plant."

"March? That's in a month."

She waves a hand. "Plenty of time! There are five of you, right? Plus, I'll be doing most of the paperwork for the grant application."

I slump back against the booth with a groan. Apparently, I have a month to pivot to an entirely new crop, learn about the required fertilizer and figure out which weed suppressant we need. Oh, and convince my siblings to help me do it.