Something About You. Bridget Anderson

at some spots. “I swear they got no home training. People need to teach their kids about other people’s property.”

      Kyla opened the passenger door and tossed her clipboard onto the seat. “Kev, you know you love this truck like your own. If it wasn’t dirty, you’d still be out here wiping it down.”

      “Hey, a clean truck is a reflection of the driver. Besides, Mrs. Rollin said we have some special guests this morning, and I don’t want them sitting on smashed strawberries.” He stopped and looked up at Kyla. “Ever heard of Miles Parker, the baseball player? He went to UK and then played professionally for the Chicago Cubs. I used to watch him all the time.”

      Kyla rolled her eyes, and rested her hands on her hips. Geez, did everybody know this guy? “Yes, I’ve heard of him.” She cut Kevin a quick smile. “What do you say we get started? Our guests are eagerly waiting on the front porch.”

      Kevin frowned. “Okay, I see what kind of mood you’re in this morning. Research not going well?” he asked.

      “My research is fine.” She climbed up onto the back of the truck and took her usual seat against the back window. “Let’s start with collard greens this morning. We can end with cherries. Rita wants to make cherry pies this evening.”

      Kevin stood at the foot of the truck and smirked. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, as he two-finger saluted Kyla.

      She rolled her eyes again and shook her head. They spent so much time together, they were like an old married couple.

      As the truck pulled around to the front of the house, an unexpected shiver ran through Kyla when she spotted Miles standing on the front porch smiling and laughing with the other guests. His face lit up, and his square chin softened when he smiled. She wasn’t sure why she noticed that. Another thing she noticed was his ultra-bright-white T-shirt, which she would have advised him not to wear had she known he was coming. Where did he think he was going? She’d explained that it was a working farm.

      He’d looked effortlessly cool and confident in his suit at the conference, but today, in his casual attire, he was downright hot! The T-shirt showed off his muscular arms and the shorts his nice calves. He had on a baseball cap with a pair of shades sitting above the brim.

      The truck came to a halt, and Kyla jumped down to greet the guests and help a few of them up the steps onto the back of the truck. Still standing on the porch with Miles were Tracee, Rita and Tayler, all smiling like a bunch of Cheshire cats. The whole time, her family had been busy taking pictures with Miles.

      “Kyla, get on up here and take a picture with us.” Tracee waved for her to join them.

      Miles turned around, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up as his eyes widened. He had to be one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. She stopped what she was doing. “I’ll be right back,” she said to the guests on the truck before hurrying up onto the porch. Her family was acting starstruck and embarrassing the hell out of her. She had to end this, and quickly.

      “Hello, Mr. Parker.” She gave him a curt smile and extended her hand.

      “Hello, Ms. Coleman. I thought I’d take you up on your invitation,” he said as he accepted her hand with a firm shake. “You remember my brother, Brandon? And this is his friend, Trey.”

      Kyla smiled and shook their hands. Both claimed Miles had dragged them to Danville so early this morning they were just now realizing what was going on. She’d figured as much, from their skinny jeans and bright shirts.

      She turned back to Miles. “Well, I didn’t expect you but—” she glanced over at her family checking out the pictures on their phones “—welcome to the Coleman Farm. I hear you signed up for the tour this morning?”

      Miles rubbed his palms together in an eager gesture. “Yes, ma’am, I’m interested in your program. So I thought I’d come out and see you in action.”

      For some reason Kyla wanted to blush. She bit her lip and nodded to keep from looking stupid.

      “Okay you two, give me a smile.” Tracee jumped in front of them with her phone, poised to take a picture.

      Suddenly Miles threw his arm around Kyla’s shoulder and leaned in like they were old friends. She smiled and tried not to look mortified by the fact that her body tingled all over.

      “Got it.”

      Miles removed his arm, and Kyla took a deep breath. She nodded toward her family. “I hope you don’t mind the pictures. They got to you before I could ask.”

      He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m used to it.”

      “Thank you.”

      She then escorted her remaining guests out to the truck. She couldn’t keep the self-satisfied grin from her face.

      These boys have no idea what they’re about to get into.

      * * *

      During the ride out to the green fields, everyone was pretty quiet as they listened to Kyla’s pitch about healthy organic eating. She’d chosen the green fields because Rita wanted to serve collard greens for dinner, and they were pretty easy to pick. Every guest was given a basket and a pair of shears. The older guests loved picking the greens and shared stories with Kyla of younger days when they grew vegetables in their yards.

      Kyla walked over to Brandon and Trey, who seemed to be picking anything they saw. “You don’t want that one,” she instructed and took a bunch from Brandon’s hand. “See the blemishes on the leaves? No good. You only want greens with no blemishes or withering. These are pretty young, tender greens so you won’t find too many bad ones, but skip this one.”

      “This is the first time they’ve ever picked a bunch of greens that wasn’t already bagged up in the grocery store,” Miles said as he joined them.

      “Huh, I’ve never picked up a bunch in the grocery store, either,” Brandon said.

      “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Miles asked.

      Brandon shrugged and looked at Trey before they reluctantly continued picking greens.

      “I thought you were in the food processing business?” Kyla asked. “You guys have never worked a farm before?”

      Miles held up his basket full of greens. “Oh, I have. But it’s an introduction for these city boys. I’m trying to teach them a thing or two today.” He glanced around. “You have an abundance of greens here. Are all those rows over there greens, as well?”

      Kyla looked in the direction he was pointing. “Yes, they are. We have rows of mustard and turnip greens, and kale, as well.” When she turned back around, Miles gave her a smile that was disarmingly charming. Her pulse quickened. Damn, he’s good-looking. She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand.

      After the greens they went to pick peppers and then tomatoes before finishing up in the cherry orchard. At every stop, Kyla found herself strolling along talking to Miles.

      “Now I wish I could stick around for dinner tonight. Looks like it’s going to be good. And I don’t know when I’ve had a homemade cherry pie.” Miles plucked a cherry from the tree and popped it into his mouth. “Um, these are sweet.”

      Thank God he’s not sticking around. “Yeah, what Aunt Rita does with these cherries is amazing. Sorry you’ll miss out, because as I was saying on the ride over, the cherries are only around to harvest for about two weeks. They’re a big hit at the farmers market, and cherries without pesticides—even bigger. People know they’re getting quality fruit when they purchase from us.” She set her heavy bucket down and dropped the cherries in.

      “But how do you keep the bugs off without pesticides? That’s not a crop you can produce successfully every year, is it?” He bent over and dumped her cherries into his bucket, handing her the empty, lightweight bucket.

      “Bugs aren’t a problem, but birds are. So we’ve