Winter Harvest (4 page)

 "Hell, no. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd swear Liza is ruining Andrew. I can't understand what he sees in her, except that maybe he wants her as a trophy wife. He never would've dated anyone like that before your mom died."

"Mom wouldn't have allowed her into our home. I can't believe Dad does. And you know, I just thought it was me Liza didn't like."

"Does she like anyone but herself?"

"From what I can tell, she doesn't like anyone unless their head is on a green bill."

Traye chuckled. "Now, now."

"Admit it. You think the same thing."

Traye nodded. "I guess I do, but don't you dare tell your brother."

"It'll be our secret." She reached over to squeeze his hand where it lay on his thigh, and a jolt of awareness raced up to his groin.

He pursed his lips. At the moment, he couldn't trust himself to speak. Victoria didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, however. Instead, she pulled her hand back into her lap and looked out the window. He still didn't know how her beauty had escaped him for so long.

"I can't wait for the snow to melt." She turned back to him with wide eyes.

He smiled. "Excited for spring?"

"Yeah. I've had enough winter, and now the weatherman keeps talking about a nasty blizzard coming. I'm always sick of the snow by the time February rolls around."

"Me, too." He needed time in the wide open fields to work her out of his head.

She kept her gaze trained out the window. "Maybe the storm will fall apart or go south."

Listening to her soft voice, Traye relaxed again. He was glad they'd gone back to chit chat and a much safer conversation. He could listen to her all day.

They finally arrived at the farmer's rundown house. The barn and outbuildings were in need of repairs and a paint job. An older man hobbled toward them, and Traye figured years of farming had abused his body. Traye felt for him. He'd probably have a hard time giving everything up. Still, Traye couldn't imagine ever walking away from the O'Connor's farm. He loved the land as if it were his own.

The tractors and equipment weren't in much better shape than the old man, and Traye didn't figure they'd be of much use to Robert. Victoria took pictures with her phone to show her father. Traye told the farmer they would get back to him, but doubted Robert would have any use for what he had to offer.

The Country Store was their next stop. Victoria bought all the supplies she thought they would need for the next few months, and Traye helped her lug all their loot out to the truck. The smell of baked goods, spices, and coffee had Traye's stomach rumbling.

"You hungry yet?"

"I'm starved." Victoria rubbed her stomach. His eyes traveled down to her breasts as she drew circles on her flat belly. He had a sudden urge to replace her hand with his own. To keep from doing so, he jerked his head back up.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Let's go." He spun on his heel, shoved his hands into his jean pockets, and pulled out his keys. He didn't wait for her, but rounded the truck in quick strides.

She raced over. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." With her sloppy grin, he could tell she already knew where his mind had been. "Let's go find that diner your father raved about so much."

They drove downtown and located the diner within only a few minutes. The place was packed, proving others thought it was a hot spot, too. After about fifteen minutes, the hostess showed them to their table in a dark corner. It was so small, their knees knocked together.

Traye scowled.
Great. This will make things easier
.

"What brings the two of you here today?" The hostess gave them their menus. Her curly black hair bounced with every movement, and her eyes were bright with kindness.

Wishing the woman would just go away, Traye opened the menu. "Work."

"A couple that works
and
plays together. I'm impressed. Your waitress will be here in a few minutes."

"But..." Traye tried to correct her, but she left before he could. He looked over at Victoria, who studied him with lovesick eyes.
How come he'd never noticed her crush before?

"See?" she said. "We portray the perfect couple."

"Except we're not."

"We could be," Victoria said with a shrug, "if you'd just get past your fears."

"We are not going through this again."

"Why not?" She cocked her head. "I know I said I was over it, but now I'm curious again. Why are you so afraid?"

"We work well as friends. I don't want to mess that up. I don't want to screw
you
up."

"I can do that by myself. Plus, I think there's more to it than that." She smiled and concentrated on her menu.

The waitress came with their water glasses and took their drink order. Traye found her presence a good reprieve from Victoria's interrogation.

"I see you got the best table to share an intimate lunch." The waitress looked down at them with a wide smile.

"We're just friends," Traye said through clenched teeth, determined to correct her.

"Oh, what a shame. You'd make a cute couple. I'll be right back with your drinks, then take your order."

Traye stared after her with an open mouth. "What's with this place?"

"Must be why Dad suggested it." Victoria smiled at him. "This is where my parents shared their most romantic dinners. Kind of cute, don't you think?"

"Whatever. Now, what are you going to order?" He didn't have to look up from his menu to know she was glaring at him. He closed the menu and glanced over at her. "I think I'll have a burger with onion rings. You?"

"Dad says the fish and chips are good."

"When did he say that?" He squeezed his hands into fists.

She lifted a shoulder. "I don't remember. Must have been another time."

"You set this up, didn't you?" Traye scowled and drummed his fingers on the table. "If your father had known what that equipment looked like, he never would've had us waste a trip."

"I might have put a bug in his ear. Andrew's been complaining that the tractor needs fixing every year, and I did need those supplies. Seemed like the perfect getaway for us."

"Oh, Christ." He tightened his fists.

She shot him a piercing look. "Look, spending the day trapped in the truck with Andrew would've been torture. He'd be spouting off about how I should act and how wonderful he is, and blah, blah, blah."

"Still, I don't like being played. You had no reason to trick me."

"At any rate, we're here, so let's enjoy the day and eat some good food." She reached for the menu under his fists and yanked it out to stack it with hers.

"Just food?"

"Sure. Why not? I plan on enjoying my lunch. If you don't, then that's your problem."

The way she avoided his eyes didn't escape him.
Why did she keep making him hurt her?

The waitress came with their sodas, then took their orders. Traye looked around the diner to keep from making eye contact with Victoria. She reached across the table and touched his fingers. Startled, he jerked his hand away and rubbed it against his leg. How did he stop his body from reacting to her touch? He'd never seen her as sexy before. Now all he wanted was her supple body under his.

"This damn table is so small." His hand traveled too far and connected with her knee. It wasn't safe anywhere except under his butt.

"Relax and enjoy this, Traye."

"What?"

"Us. Enjoy
us."

"There
is
no us." Traye scowled. "Get that through your head. I can't have anything more than friendship with you. If we tried, we'd destroy everything."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed. She pursed her kissable lips. "You never did say."

"Yes, I did. We've already discussed this." He met her eyes. "Because you're like my little sister."

"Ouch." She pushed herself back in her seat.

He sighed. "Come on, Victoria. You know what I mean. Not to mention that I'm not good for you."

"Or anyone else either, it appears."

"What do you mean?" Why couldn't she just accept this wouldn't work for either of them?

"I don't remember you ever having a steady girlfriend."

Traye shrugged. "I get around."

"But you don't have a girlfriend. No one will put up with you except for me."

"I'm not the boyfriend type." He picked up a fork and fingered the prongs, wishing he could stab it through his heart and end this torture.

"Sure you are, if you'd just let yourself dive in."

"Okay, enough already." He dropped the fork with a clatter.

Despite what he'd said, she leaned closer. "When are you going to let yourself be loved?"

"Never by you, in that way." Angry that she wouldn't let up, he glared at her.

She shrugged. "Fine. So I'm your sister. Tell me your troubles."

"I don't have any." Traye smiled. "I live on a huge farm, doing work I love, with an amazing family -- and I have the baggage of my drunken father hanging over my head."

The waitress arrived with their food, giving him a chance to catch himself before he spilled his guts. How did Victoria do it? This lunch had to end fast, so he could get her home before he did something stupid.

"It's no secret your father could be a nasty drunk," Victoria continued the minute they were alone again. "I mean, I may have been young, but I knew that every time you came to the main house with a duffle bag, you'd be there for a while. Mom would tell Andrew and me to be nice and make you feel like one of the family. She loved you as if you were her own. Dad, too."

"But I'm
not
their own. Every time I showed up at your house dirty and bruised, I only felt shame. I loved your mom, and I'm very grateful to your father, but I don't have anything they didn't give me. I love the farm, but it's not mine, and I'll probably never be able to buy my own."

"Traye, you don't have to buy one. The cabin is yours."

"No. It belongs to you O'Connors."

"You have the hardest time excepting a kindness."

Traye shrugged. "I wasn't raised with it, and I don't trust it."

"Well, that's a shame. You could have me, and that would truly make you an O'Connor."

"I'm a Petersen. Always will be. The son my parents never wanted."

"Stop it.
I
want you."

"Feeling sorry for me now?" Traye shoved an onion ring into his mouth. Why was she pressing the issue? It made him feel dirty, as if she were slumming -- and even worse, he almost wanted to surrender to it. Just for one night.

She shook her head. "No. I'm just telling you the truth. I love you. Dad loves you. My mother adored you. You were the only person who understood what I was going through while the cancer ate my mother alive. The only one I could talk to."

"That was a bad time for all of us." He remembered a private conversation he'd had with Tessie after her hair was already gone and her body was nothing but a skeleton. He shivered. No one had known how hard it was for him to watch such a vibrant woman wither away. He'd held the pain deep down inside himself, because he hadn't felt as if he had the right to feel that way. When she'd talked to him that day, she'd begged him to watch over Victoria, help Robert with the farm, and steer Andrew in the right direction. He never understood her last request.

"My mother would hate it if you felt you weren't already part of this family."

Traye nodded. "I know."

"My mother would approve if you and I became more than friends."

"Maybe so, but I don't think Robert would… and I can't lose his respect."

"You won't."

"Look…" Traye pushed his almost empty plate away and looked Victoria square in the eye. "Maybe we
would
work."

Her eyes lit up.

He shook his head. "Maybe we would, but I'm not willing to take the chance of losing what I pretend to be my family, nor my home -- nor you, if I screw this up. End of story. So let it go. Please." He waved the waitress down for the check. "Are you ready?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"I think we've beaten this subject to death and wasted enough time for today."

After paying the check, they left the diner. Traye didn't think he'd ever see Victoria as just a friend again, and that pissed him off. She just had to continue to push, when all he'd wanted was to see her as his kid sister again. With her walking ahead of him, her seductive hips swaying, he wanted to strip her down and take her right there on the pavement. God, he had become an animal. After he got her home safely and untouched, he planned to never be alone with her again.

He opened the door for her.

As thanks, she kissed his cheek and slid her hand over his butt. Instant reaction.
Would she be a hell cat in bed, too?
He groaned, backed away, and let her shut her own door.

Once he climbed back inside the truck, the air stifled him. She scooted close and lay her hand on his thigh.

"Victoria, what are you doing?" He swallowed, hard.

She smiled. "Wouldn't you like to see just how good it could be?"

"How good what could be?"

"This."

She brought her leg over his and leaned up to kiss his neck. He sucked in a breath. Oh, hell. His mind turned to gel, and he brought his hand to her tush. His mouth claimed hers, and she stuck a hand into his jacket. He kissed his way down her neck.

She helped him remove her jacket and then undid her shirt buttons. He rubbed her hardened nubs before sticking his hand into her bra to free her breasts. God, she was so soft. She pulled his head back up to hers and locked their lips together again.

A voice outside the truck penetrated Traye's fogged brain. He pulled away, and the resultant smack echoed inside the truck. Victoria found his neck again.

He jerked back. He was about to take a girl he thought of as family in a busy parking lot. What in hell was the matter with him?

"Victoria, stop," he ground out.

She kissed him again. "Come on, Traye. You're into it as much as I am."

"You want to put on a show?"

"Huh?" She pulled away and looked around, and her checks grew red. She quickly righted her bra and shirt. "Oh."