“Is it going to be X-rated this year?”
Opening my bag, I stuff my sketchpad inside. “I’m heading back to the house. It’s too distracting out here.”
“I’m sorry,” he laughs. “Did I interrupt your artistic flow?”
“No more than you ever do.”
I’m walking quickly in the direction of the house, Leon keeping pace, not letting up for a minute on the teasing.
“You know your face gets all pink when you’re drawing dirty pictures. You chew your lip, and—”
Stopping short, I cut him with a glare. “I was not drawing dirty pictures.”
“Bullshit.” He crosses his arm, grinning down at me. “Open that sketch book and prove me wrong.”
I hesitate. I don’t remember how far I’d gotten in my illustrated memory of Sawyer and me together, and the last thing I need is Leon knowing our secret.
Although, to be honest, I don’t know why it’s still be a secret. We’re both old enough to be together now, and my mom would be thrilled—mostly because I’d be staying in Harristown.
I say all this as if I have any reason to think Sawyer and I would be together. We never defined the relationship before he left, and since he returned from the Marines, I’m back at arm’s length. I’m not really sure why, and it’s getting old.
“That’s what I thought.” Leon laughs, turning on his bootheel and heading toward the wrecked ATV. “Now let’s see what you’ve done to this.”
“It wasn’t me. Some idiot threw a broken tap in the pasture.”
“It’s stuck pretty good.” He tries to push it, but it won’t budge. “I’ll have to come back with Sawyer.”
Now I feel like shit. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s nothing my big brother can’t fix.” He throws an arm around my shoulders. “I think he likes fixing all our crap.”
I’m not sure that’s true… In fact, I know it’s not, which makes me feel even worse, but I don’t want to seem too familiar with the inner workings of his brother’s mind.
He drops his arm off my shoulder and adjusts the cap on his head. “Deacon’s at the house.”
“Is he back from Dallas?” I remember my mom’s invitation.
“Hell, I don’t know. Nobody tells me anything.”
“Is that so?” That makes me laugh. “Have you told anybody what you’re going to do with that degree yet?”
Leon graduated from the small college in town last month with a general studies degree, and so far, he still hasn’t announced any plans for the future.
Not that I’m one to throw stones. Hell, I’m still sitting on my art degree, waiting…
“I want to be more involved in the orchard.” His expression turns serious. “Deacon says there’s tax advantages to having me on as an employee. But I don’t want to be just an employee.”
We’ve been walking as we talked, and we’re in eye-shot of the house when I stop. “Have you talked to Sawyer about this?”
He stops with me, dropping his chin and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sawyer’s ten years older than me.”
“So?”
“So he still looks at me like a kid. Even though I’m five years older than he was when he took over.”
My brow furrows, and I think about the few times Sawyer’s talked to me about his feelings—always when he’s had a little too much whiskey. He has dreams just like all of us. He wanted to travel, go to the south Pacific, explore Asia…
“You should talk to Sawyer about this.”