Chapter 6

Tulip

“Didn’t think you’d be up yet, seeing as you snuck out last night,” Clover grins as I walk into the kitchen from collecting some eggs. “And you didn’t get back until half two.”

Blossom throws me a look over her shoulder. “Something you want to share?”

I shake my head. “Nothing to tell. I went for a walk.”

“For two and a half hours? Look, just remember he’s here doing a job, don’t make things messy,” Blossom chastises, rightly assuming I was with Cooper.

It wasn’t like she’s thinking though, I just needed to be away from the farmhouse, needed to talk to someone, and although I didn’t know it when I set off, it seems part of me knew I’d find just what I was looking for in Cooper. And I was right. He was sweet, kind, listened, and I didn’t feel awkward talking to him at all. Waking up in his arms this morning though – fuck – that felt a little weird. Somehow, it was simultaneously the most surreal and most natural thing in the world.

“We might need a deep clean of that pod if they got messy,” Clover teases.

I look at her in horror. I know she’s fifteen and knows about that sort of thing, but it still takes me by surprise. It’s when her giggling stops, though, and her eyes drift over my shoulder that I freeze. The look on her face tells me one thing. Cooper is standing right behind me. And heard every word. I can’t bring myself to turn around.

“No deep clean necessary,” he says, deep tone sending my pulse racing even more than it already is. “I think the only mess we made was confined to Tulip’s chin.”

What the fuck? That sounds awful. Like I was… He’s gone too far, can’t say things like that in front of Clover. I spin to face him, ready to have a go, but when I do, even though the smirk is the first thing I see, every bit of fire just vanishes.

He looks tired, a little dishevelled, and that’s because of me, because he happily gave up his time last night to comfort me, look after me, some random woman he barely knows. And then he winks, and I melt. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Tulip had a little trouble keeping her tea from dribbling down her chin,” he explains.

Blossom is looking between the two of us – me blushing like mad, and him staring at me with that movie star smile plastered on his face – and she clearly disapproves of even just the thought that anything happened between us.

Clearly, parts of my body aren’t so disapproving. Sensations pulse through me, deep, needy sensations. Fuck. One day, one bloody day I’ve spent with the man, and I’ve gone and got myself a crush.

Blossom places a rack of toast on the table, unnecessarily heavily if you ask me, but it has the desired effect of pulling mine and Cooper’s gaze from each other and moving us towards the table.

“I’ve a feeling she doesn’t like me,” Cooper whispers, his breath on my neck as, still standing, we both reach for some toast.

“Well, she thinks something happened between us last night,” I whisper back.

“Didn’t you set her straight?”

“I didn’t get the chance, and then you came in and hinted you’d had your cock in my mouth,” I hiss.

His gaze drops to my lips and my temperature rises again. Even more so when that smirk reappears, complete with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. I can’t help but giggle. A giggle Blossom hears and gives us yet another look, causing us both to stand to attention, lips tightly closed, trying to hold back the laughter.

“I had an idea,” he whispers when Blossom finally carries on with her cooking. “You want to bring the toast and come take a look?”

Seeing the piece of toast he’s just slathered in butter and jam, my stomach suddenly feels ravenous. A quick glance across the table sees Clover smiling, telling me she’s heard every word. When she mouths ‘go’ though, something suddenly takes over, and Blossom’s disapproval is the last thing on my mind.

Blossom is only 31, just six years older than me, Cooper’s age funnily enough, and yet she’s taken on the role of mother – cooks, cleans, gets Clover off to school – but she also has a life outside these four walls. Her boyfriend Jeremy loves her more than anything, has been wonderfully supportive, too, especially considering she gives up many evenings and weekends she could spend with him, just so she can help out here.

Where she’s all mum, I’m my father’s daughter, out on the land taking care of the day-to-day running, the fixing and mending, but it leaves me little time for a life. We’re losing the place anyway, I might as well accept it and at least enjoy spending some time with Cooper. Not romantically, that would be daft, I just like him, we get on well, he’s funny and smart, and makes me smile.

I grab the toast from his hand and take a bite, spinning away as he looks at me, shocked that I dared to steal his toast.

“Oi, I was about to eat that,” he laughs, rooted to the spot.

“Tulip, stop fucking about,” Blossom glares, looking at the dollop of jam on the kitchen floor from where I swiped the toast.

Cooper stands still, unsure what to do, but I can see his lips twitching, and I dart back, grab his shirt, and yank him with me, through the door and out into the cool spring morning.

“You feel okay?” Cooper asks with a laugh and a hand laid on my forehead.

“I just needed to get out of there. What’s this idea of yours?”

He puffs out his cheeks and runs a hand through his hair. “You better come with me.”

Stepping into his pod, I’m struck instantly by the chaos inside. There are sheets of A4 paper Blu-Tacked to the walls, piles of them on the coffee table, an open laptop, and at least four coffee cups in the small sink.

“I walked the farm this morning, looked at your farm map, drew it bigger so I could get a feel for it,” he says.

Well, that explains the badly drawn patchwork of papers on the wall. “Okaaay.”

“Here.” He hands me two lists. “This is what you have, and this one, is what you need.”

“I don’t understand,” I start. “I’m confu—”

“Your parent’s dreams, your dreams, they’re doable.”

“Cooper, it’s all too late, it’s over.”

He shakes his head, manoeuvres me so I’m directly in front of the wall. “Look at it. Tulip, we can do this. We can make Springfield Farm exactly what you want. We can get it built, kitted out. I want to help.”

This is the flail mower all over again. I know he has good intentions, it’s not taken me long to see he’s a good man, but I can’t let him throw money at this. Not when the next round of bills need paying in less than a month and we’ve not even got enough to cover them. What would be the point?

“No. Cooper, this is a farm, not a project. It’s got to be sustainable, we’ve got to be able to support ourselves after you finish filming, after you get bored with playing farm manager, when you go back to your real life.”

“Tulip, I’m not talking about doing this and walking away. And as much as you might hate me being here, I like you. All of you, I mean. Let me help and get some of these things done for you.”

“It would be a waste of money, it wouldn’t be ready in time to turn the profit we need for the next load of bills. Thank you, but it’s a lost cause.”

“Then let me take care of those bills, give you that boost you need.”

“I still feel uncomfortable about the mower.”

He tilts his head, raises an eyebrow. “That was a gift.”

“I know, and thank you, it will help get the place looking great for whoever gets to own this place next. I just can’t take money from you too, I’d feel—”

“Out of control,” he interrupts. “I get it, I do.”

“I just wanted to know we can do it ourselves, you know? That we can be as good as mum and dad, make them proud, carry on their legacy, reach the goals they wanted to achieve. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine. It was a bad idea. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

I stare at the map. His drawings may be dodgy, but he’s got everything I told him last night, plus a couple of my ideas I said I’d implement if we had the money. It’s beautiful, everything mum and dad ever wanted. But the most beautiful thing is that he remembered every word I said. Everything. Through my tears and sniffles, and mouthfuls of biscuit, he’s not missed one thing. Cooper Fox is definitely not a twat.

“Wait. What if I didn’t give you the money?”

“I just said I’m not taking it, so yeah, that’s kind of where we are.”

“No, what I mean is what if we earn it? What if we can earn enough to pay the bills next month? Can earn more than that? Can earn enough to do it all, not all at once, but enough to get started?”

He’s talking faster and faster, at risk of losing me in his verbal sprint. “Huh?”

“We could hold a fundraiser. See if we can make enough to cover the bills and construction of something that will bring in another revenue stream for the month after that.”

“When? And what sort of fundraiser? What is going to bring in enough for all that?”

“We do it before I have to leave. I want to be here for it, I can help that way, use my name to attract people to come along. Maybe we do something like a family fun day for Easter, that could work, right?”

“You leave in less than two weeks. Right after Easter weekend. And then you’re not back until filming starts the first week in May. Plus, you hate using your name for things.”

“But I don’t hate you, and you’re worth using my name for, worth telling people they can have a photo with me, asking people to sponsor things, come along. We can do this. We make a great team.”

“And what if it doesn’t work, what if we don’t make enough?”

“What if it does? Where’s that fighting spirit gone?”

He seems so sure it could work, and it’s not a bad plan. “You really think we can pull this off?”

He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. “With your brains, my connections, and everyone on board, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“I just don’t want to get my hopes up. Looking at all this, how perfect it is, how little time we have, I don’t want to fail them.”

“You haven’t, and you never could. But if it doesn’t work, you’ll know you tried, gave it everything you had and went down fighting. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

I want to run and hide, having this hope put in front of me, knowing I could fail, knowing that we could work so hard and still lose everything, it fills me with dread, but something Cooper just said stuck out. It’s something my dad used to say all the time when we were going through tough times, no matter what they were, ‘Always go down fighting’. And if that’s not a sign that I need to give this one last shot, I don’t know what is.