Page 1 of While the Sun Shines

CHAPTER ONE

A breeze races across the field, fluttering the tall grass and sticking Drew’s sweaty shirt to his shoulders.

“C’mon,” he says and kicks the hitch on the farm truck again, the ball stubbornly stuck in the socket.

He pushes his fingers into his hair, and the strands that fall into his eyes are darkened to nearly brown with sweat, rather than the bright red it normally is. Haircut has been on his list all spring—though he’s as close to getting that crossed off as unhitch the mower.

And grease the ball apparently should’ve topped today’s schedule. Of course it’s stuck. What the hell was he thinking? Towing the mower out to the hayfield without taking five minutes to check over a winter’s worth of rust eating into the hitch?

Embarrassment flares through his chest, hot enough to compete with the heavy humidity of late May. Summer’s already knocking on spring’s door, and here he is, marooned at the field farthest from the barnyard, the closest house the neighbor’s. Sure enough, he’s gotten himself stuck between either driving back the way he came, mower in tow, or walking home across the pastures, hands in his pockets and head down, proverbial tail between his legs.

“Glare at it one more time. That might work.”

Drew jumps. “Penny?”

She grins and points at the hitch. “I’m serious, ’cause kicking it seems like a bust. Thanks, by the way, since here I was out for a run, and I stumbled upon this delightful sight of you swearing at your poor truck.”

Went for a run and looks great doing it, with her hair tied up in a long dark ponytail, skin dewy with sweat, calves splattered with late spring mud, and her old, threadbare T-shirt clinging to her.

Which she lifts by the hem to wipe her face.

Drew turns away, trying to ignore the sight of her stomach, that strip of brown skin above the waistband of her running shorts.

Though the only other thing to look at is the field of tall grass, seed heads forming on long stalks that wave in the breeze, like they’re mocking him into cutting them. Which he’d be able to do, if he could get the mower unhitched.

Perfect, he’d figured that morning, after the rain had blown through. A couple days of ideal haying weather in the forecast, and an afternoon ahead to quickly drive the mower out, ready to start first thing tomorrow.

Best fucking laid plans, he thinks, still staring across the field and trying to tamp down the urge to turn toward Penny again and see if she’s still got her shirt pulled up.

But Penny leans close to him, bumping their shoulders together. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Drew pushes his hair back again to move his arm away from hers, before he can give in to the familiar desire to lean into her. “Hot. Tired.”

“And running behind schedule?”

“Always.”

“Is that someone you’re expecting? Down there at the house?”

Drew squints at where she’s pointing. A car pulls into the barnyard, looking small from their vantage point up on the hill, like a toy against a doll farmhouse and barn.

“No, I have no idea who that is,” he says.

Probably just someone out for a drive, enjoying Upstate New York in late spring, and pulling over at the sign offering fresh eggs, cheese, and milk, Two Pines Farm painted at the top. Though a man gets out of the car, walks right over to the house, and steps up onto the porch. Drew holds up a hand to shield his eyes, as if all the way up here in the far pasture, he can hear the guy knock and Sadie’s answering barks from the kitchen, even the scratch of her paws at the door as she wiggles and wags at the excitement of a visitor.

Penny leans closer. She smells like sweat and the laundry detergent she uses. Don’t touch, she’d said when she’d brought the bottle home, setting it on the washer in the basement. She knocks her shoulder against his again as he stubbornly studies the cows dotting the pastures instead of letting himself pivot toward her, staring at the bright green leaves on the trees in the strip of forest at the bottom of the field, and the man standing on their porch, looking up at the house.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “That must be the roommate inspector.”

Drew can’t help but turn. A loose strand of Penny’s hair sticks to her cheek. He wants to touch it. Brush it back, push it behind her ear.

No, he tells himself, squashing down the longing that rises through him. He’s not giving in to that urge, not now, not ever.

“The what?” he asks.

“I filed a report the other day. Amazing how quick their response time is. Though it’s a shame they came right now, when Whit and Cooper are out picking up the sheep.”

Drew drags himself a step away from her. “I’m sorry, roommate inspector?”