Книга - Something About You

Something About You
Bridget Anderson


Love finds a wayKentucky farm girl Kyla Coleman grew up believing in the power of healthy living choices to enrich and transform lives. Pursuing her Ph.D. while working at her cousin’s Bed and Breakfast and organic farm leaves little time for a personal life. Until Kyla meets a very handsome and incredibly astute out-of-towner, Miles Parker. There’s something about the baseball legend-turned-food-industry-entrepreneur that instantly captivates her despite their wildly opposing views.His quest to end world hunger has long been Miles’s passion. And Kyla’s the first woman who shares his special altruistic dream. But she’s strictly hands-on and soon, Miles is finding it hard to be hands-off around the enchanting, whip-smart country girl. As mutual desire leads to a scorching affair, a business opportunity drives a wedge between them. Can Miles persuade Kyla that he’s worthy of her trust in order to create a meeting of minds and hearts?







Love finds a way

Kentucky farm girl Kyla Coleman grew up believing in the power of healthy living choices to enrich and transform lives. Pursuing her PhD while working at her cousin’s bed-and-breakfast and organic farm leaves little time for a personal life. Until Kyla meets a very handsome and incredibly astute out-of-towner, Miles Parker. There’s something about the baseball legend turned food industry entrepreneur that instantly captivates her despite their wildly opposing views.

His quest to end world hunger has long been Miles’s passion. And Kyla’s the first woman who shares his special altruistic dream. But she’s strictly hands-on, and soon Miles is finding it hard to be hands-off around the enchanting, whip-smart country girl. As mutual desire leads to a scorching affair, a business opportunity drives a wedge between them. Can Miles persuade Kyla that he’s worthy of her trust in order to create a meeting of minds and hearts?


BRIDGET ANDERSON writes provocative stories about smart women and the men they love. She has over nine published novels and two novellas to date. Her romantic suspense novel, Rendezvous, was adapted into a made-for-television movie.

When Bridget’s not writing, she loves to travel. She’s fallen in love with Paris, France, and can’t wait to get back to Ghana, West Africa. She’s a native of Louisville, Kentucky, who currently resides north of metro Atlanta with her husband and a big dog that she swears is part human.

To find out about future release dates, past releases or to sign up for her newsletter, visit her on the web at www.bridgetanderson.net (http://www.bridgetanderson.net). She loves to connect with readers. You can follow her on Twitter, @Banders319 (https://twitter.com/banders319?lang=en), or at www.Facebook.com/banders319 (http://www.Facebook.com/banders319).


Also By Bridget Anderson (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

When I Fall in Love (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781460395813&oisbn=9781488081460)The Only One for Me (http://ads.harpercollins.com/hqnboba?isbn=9781488013591&oisbn=9781488081460) Something About You

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Something About You

Bridget Anderson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-08274-7

SOMETHING ABOUT YOU

© 2018 Bridget Anderson

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“I learned a lot this week. Organic farming is definitely a labor of love. But I also learned a lot about myself, and what I really want out of life.” Miles stared deep into Kyla’s eyes, as if she were the only one in the gazebo.

Her lips parted, and she gave him a hesitant look before asking, “What’s that?”

“A woman who shares my passions and dreams of one day ridding the world of hunger. Someone who’s not waiting on the government or anybody else to do what needs to be done in this world. That’s what I want.”

Miles needed to touch her at that moment. He wanted to taste her lips and wrap her in his arms. Once he walked away from here the moment would be lost. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but he wanted to make sure she knew how he felt.

He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Thank you for the education.” He covered her mouth with his, and closed his eyes while savoring the minty taste of her lips.


Dear Reader (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31),

Thank you so much for purchasing Something About You, the third book in the Coleman House series. I hope you enjoyed Rollin’s story, When I Fall in Love, and his baby sister Corra’s story, The Only One for Me. In this book, you get to see their cousin, Kyla Coleman, the quiet PhD candidate, blossom into her own. This is the story of how two people from opposing teams find common ground and even a little love during the summer’s harvest.

This series came to me while riding through the countryside in Kentucky and seeing a massive house that reminded me of Tara from Gone with the Wind. My curiosity about who lived there got the better of me, and I created my own little Southern family. Up next in the series, Tracee Coleman, Kyla’s sister, slows down long enough to find love.

Thanks,

Bridget Anderson


I’d like to dedicate this one to my critique partner, Shirley Harrison, who helped me out of more than a few rough spots.


Contents

Cover (#ud1b26b69-8911-56f2-a0b3-f0a1c3eb557f)

Back Cover Text (#u8b95f0bb-57a9-5543-b0e6-09a82cdff0cb)

About the Author (#u43858430-f268-5adb-a3f8-3c354b649446)

Booklist (#u9554fe3a-1e39-560d-9090-59f6ef85df82)

Title Page (#ub5121494-90f9-51f3-ae01-d6415144987a)

Copyright (#u3590413f-338a-5064-9e20-0efc33b237fb)

Introduction (#u06cf8bcd-41cb-5138-8db0-e14462237431)

Dear Reader (#u02ad191e-7f98-50c6-983c-7c044b70b41c)

Dedication (#uf6ff62f3-4947-5045-922e-43c00c452eda)

Chapter 1 (#ub8dfa451-bd5f-56eb-a440-b3dbad14cb14)

Chapter 2 (#u8d9a26ec-0985-5285-8d98-e263fee293b4)

Chapter 3 (#u4da57a0a-f06d-5509-8db4-3a8533de8232)

Chapter 4 (#u50b687ea-ca41-5dd6-9744-e7b3097914fe)

Chapter 5 (#u8cc754bf-65c0-5289-b0d1-6963b17c18a8)

Chapter 6 (#u5252dade-629a-5350-bfa0-cf7cdb1b8ed3)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

The back of the red Ford pickup rattled a bit as it traveled down the Danville, Kentucky dirt road that led to row after row of beautiful bright-red strawberries. Guests of The Coleman House B and B sat on benches on either side of the truck bed with wicker baskets in hand. Kyla Coleman, their tour guide, and the assistant farm manager lived for these morning rides out to the fields. She loved watching the guests get excited about picking organic produce. Educating people about the benefits of organic food was the premise of her PhD thesis and her passion in life.

The truck stopped just short of a row of strawberries.

Kyla stood up, stretching her long legs, and smiled. “Okay, everyone, can I get your attention, please?” She tried not to laugh at two teenage girls sitting at the end of the truck who were trying unsuccessfully to fan away the dust that had kicked up after Kevin, her co-worker brought the truck to a halt.

A couple from Tennessee with their young son, another couple from Michigan who had flown in to attend a niece’s wedding, and Ms. Barbara Jean, who checked into the B and B for her birthday every year, all sat attentively, awaiting Kyla’s instructions.

“Start on the rows to my left and work your way down the vines. The truck will stay right here should you need another basket.” She reached down to pick one up. “I know everything here is organically grown, but we ask that you not eat more strawberries than you put in your basket,” she said with a smile.

Several of the guests laughed and nodded.

“I always have my share,” Ms. Barbara Jean said, with a chuckle and roll of her eyes.

Kyla grinned at the group, knowing they couldn’t wait to pop a juicy red berry into their mouths. “And remember, you’re picking enough for strawberry pies for dessert and a few other treats.” She moved past everyone and jumped down from the back of the truck. She reached underneath the truck bed and pulled down the steps Kevin had installed to assist guests on and off the truck.

“So, how much time do we have?” someone asked.

Kyla looked down at her watch. “How does forty-five minutes sound?”

“Good, that’s plenty of time,” a voice responded.

Kyla walked around the side of the truck as the guests headed for the fields, swinging their baskets. Kevin stepped out from behind the driver’s seat in the same uniform as Kyla, khakis and a beige polo shirt. He had worked for her cousin Rollin, who owned The Coleman House farm and B and B, for over five years now. Every morning he drove guests of the B and B out into the fields to pick fruits and vegetables that her Aunt Rita, the cook, would later prepare for dinner.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Kevin asked in a chipper voice.

Kyla inhaled the sweet country air. “That it is,” she agreed before shoving her hands into the back pockets of her khakis and staring off into the vast green fields of the farm. Since she’d joined the farm crew nine months ago on a part-time basis, her favorite job was assisting Kevin with the morning tours. Anything she didn’t know about the farm, he could fill in.

“Well, are you ready to present at World Hunger Day?” he asked. “You look cool as a cucumber this morning, but I bet you’re nervous as all get-out.”

“I am. I was up half the night rehearsing my presentation, but I can’t keep the quiver out of my voice.”

“You’ll do fine,” he assured her. “I’ve never met anyone who knows more about organic farming than you and Rollin.”

“Yeah, but not only will there be University of Kentucky faculty members present, but other authorities in the field. And I’ll be speaking on a panel with some really smart and educated people, and some of them know far more than I do.”

“Bet they’re not working on their PhD like you are. Besides, your professor wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you’d make an excellent speaker.”

Kyla laughed. “Thanks Kev. I think I’m the only student of Professor Abraham’s who’s created a business plan for their non-profit with a long-term plan of action for the organization. That’s what he’s impressed with.”

One of the teenage girls came for another basket. Kevin reached inside the truck and handed it to her, smiling as she walked back to join the others.

“So, how’s your girlfriend these days?” Kyla asked.

Kevin looked at her and started laughing. “What? All I did was look. She’s cute.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t get yourself in trouble again.”

“Isn’t it about time for you to leave for Lexington? Wouldn’t want you to be late. And why did you choose to come out here, anyway? I could have handled the tour myself this morning.”

“I don’t have to be there until after noon, and working kind of settles my nerves. Takes the edge off.” She shook her hands out, and took a deep breath.

* * *

After the strawberry fields came the vegetable gardens, followed by a brief farm tour before the guests were carried back to the B and B. As the truck turned in, Kyla noticed something she didn’t usually see at the Coleman Farm—her older brother Gavin’s truck. Gavin worked with their father on their small farm in Nicholasville. At nine in the morning he should be miles away, busy at work. So why was he here? She hadn’t seen her parents in almost a month, since she moved out of student housing and into the B and B for the summer, so she hoped everything was okay. As she climbed off the truck, she cursed herself for not going home more often.

She hurried through her goodbyes to the guests before going inside and walking to the back of the house where the family quarters were located. The house staff was finishing up breakfast, but she didn’t see Gavin anywhere. Corra, Rollin’s sister, walked into the kitchen.

“Morning, Kyla, how was the tour this morning?” Corra asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Great, as usual. Lots of questions.” Corra and her two kids were Kyla’s favorite cousins. When she had the time, she helped Corra in the gift shop and just loved being in her company. She was funny, and she never asked nosy questions, trying to pry into Kyla’s personal business like some other family members.

Rita Coleman, Kyla’s aunt by marriage, came whirling through the kitchen. “Kyla, honey, grab yourself something to eat. You don’t want to sit down in front of them folks with your stomach growling.”

“I’m fine. I ate something this morning.” Rita was the backbone of The Coleman House. After her cousin’s parents were killed in a car crash, Rita had stepped up as a surrogate mother and later joined the staff of the B and B. They couldn’t run the house without her. She cooked all the meals, tended a beautiful garden out back and did a little housekeeping, all before going home to her husband at night. It was her personal touches that helped distinguish their B and B from others in town.

“Oh, that’s right. It’s World Hunger Day, isn’t it?” Corra asked. “Kyla, aren’t you supposed to be at the University of Kentucky this morning?”

“I don’t have to be there for a little while. I saw Gavin’s truck out front. Is he here?”

Rita set a plate in front of Corra and instructed her to fill it up. “He’s out back with Rollin. Sure was glad to see him this morning. Gavin and your daddy are so busy these days, we hardly get to see them.”

“I know. I haven’t seen him myself in a while. I hope everything’s okay at home.”

“I’m sure it’s just fine. But why don’t you run on out and say hello before you go. You know how Gavin is—one never knows when he’ll be this way again.”

“I think I will.” Kyla looked down at her watch. She had a few minutes.

Several yards behind the B and B was a large barn where Rollin kept a lot of the smaller farm equipment. Kyla spotted both men standing just outside the barn as she crossed the yard. Her younger brother was almost as tall as her cousin Rollin.

After graduating from high school, Gavin had gone straight to work with their father. No amount of prodding and persuasion could talk Gavin into going to college. He said he’d go to the local community college and take some business classes, but that never happened. Instead, Gavin married a local girl, began having babies and never left the farm. He’d moved his family in with their parents last summer.

Rollin put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder and gestured to him as Kyla approached. “Hey, look who it is.”

She strolled up to them. “I see, and I’m surprised. What brings you to Danville?” she asked as she greeted her brother with a hug.

Gavin smiled and hugged her back. “I came to catch up with you and Tracee, and then I saw Rollin out here so I thought I’d pick his brain a minute.”

Their older sister, Tracee, was also part of the B and B staff. She baked and helped Rita prepare meals in the kitchen. “Well, I don’t know where Tracee is, but I’ve only got a minute. I’m speaking on a panel in Lexington today.”

Rollin looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be there?”

“She’s scared,” came a loud voice from behind them.

Kyla turned around to see Tracee with her full head of natural curls bouncing as she walked toward them. Her free-flowing mane epitomized why Kyla nicknamed her Good Time Girl. Tracee roamed freely through the world, pursuing things that made her happy. She brought the party wherever she went. Her motto had always been, “What’s done is done.”

She greeted Gavin with a big hug. Kyla knew there was some truth to what Tracee had just said, but she would never admit it.

Rollin slapped Gavin on the shoulder. “I’m going to let you guys talk. Gavin, you know where to find me when you finish with your sisters.” He walked back into the barn.

Kyla turned to Gavin. “Is everything okay at home?”

He glanced from her to Tracee before nodding. “Everything’s cool, why?”

“Because I don’t think you’ve shown up here this early since I’ve been working here. Mom and Dad are okay?”

“They’re fine.”

“And the wife and kids?” she continued.

Gavin chuckled. “Donna and the kids are cool. You should come out and see them. They’re getting big.”

More guilt from her little brother. Kyla nodded. “I will, and soon, I promise. But if it wasn’t anything important, I need to run. I’ll call you later.”

“Naw, go ahead. I’ll talk to Tracee. You go kill ’em dead today.”

“Good luck girl. I wish I could be there to cheer you on.” Tracee leaned over and gave Kyla a hug.

Gavin waved as Kyla hurried back up to the house. She had two hours to get changed and drive to Lexington. She could not be late for her presentation. Besides, Professor Abraham had said he had a surprise for her, and she was eager to see what that was.

* * *

After her shower, Kyla dressed in a business suit and heels. She pulled her straight hair back into a French bun. She hadn’t allowed herself much time for makeup, so foundation and lip gloss would have to do. She jumped on US 150 and arrived at the conference in time to find Professor Abraham and thank him for the opportunity before grabbing a bottle of water and finding her session. She was the only PhD candidate invited to sit on the panel. The other panelists were business owners or writers who covered the subject of organic farming.

Minutes later, butterflies danced in her stomach as the moderator took the stage, a thin scholarly looking man with thick-framed glasses. He motioned for her group to join him onstage. Kyla made her way to the podium and introduced herself to everyone. Her jittery stomach began bouncing around in overdrive as she glanced around and noticed the room filling up. By the time everyone on the panel was seated across the stage, the room was at capacity.

“Looks like we’ve drawn a good crowd today,” the gentleman next to her said.

Trying to hold the butterflies at bay, she replied, “I just hope I don’t forget what I’d planned to say.”

“Oh, you’ll do fine. The moderator’s about to spout off some statistics about the millions of hungry people in America, and then we’ll tell everyone what we’re doing to reduce that number. It’s that simple.”

Simple for you. Kyla took a deep breath and looked down at her notes. If she walked out of this room having convinced one or two of the business owners in the crowd to give her nonprofit a try, she would count herself successful.

As predicted, the moderator kicked off the discussion by quoting statistics on world hunger before introducing all five panel members. When Kyla’s time came, she went on automatic pilot. She had rehearsed her presentation so much she didn’t need to look down at her notes. The more she spoke, the more her confidence grew.

Before she finished her presentation, Kyla noticed quite a few heads turn when two men entered and stood at the back of the room. They were tall, athletic looking and black—and stood out from everyone else here. She tried not to let them distract her as she broke down the specifics of her program and rattled off her accomplishments to date.

“Currently, I’m conducting workshops throughout the Glynn County school system. My goal is to first spread my program throughout the whole state of Kentucky. Then conquer the world.” She garnered a little laughter from the crowd. “I’m available after this meeting to speak with anyone about how your church, business or organization can help eradicate hunger right here at home. Or, if you’d be interested in attending one of my workshops at the Coleman Farm to learn more about the food you eat and how we benefit from organically grown foods, I’d be happy to sign you up.”

Applause rippled through the room. From her vantage point she could see everything and everyone. People were whispering and turning to look at the men. Kyla figured they were former University of Kentucky athletes, but what were they doing at a World Hunger Day discussion? Someone had brought in folding chairs for them, but they refused to sit down, offering the seats to women standing at the back, instead.

One of the men locked eyes with Kyla, and she tried to place him, but one thing Kyla wasn’t was a sports fan. Although she’d been told several times she had the height of a female basketball player, she knew nothing about the sport.

Before she turned away, she had to admit the guy was extremely handsome, and the sight of him almost took her breath away.

“That question was for you, Ms. Coleman,” the moderator said into his microphone.

Startled, Kyla sat up straight and looked at the moderator with pleading eyes.

“Would you like me to repeat the question?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” She turned her gaze to the back of the room again, where Mr. Athlete was still staring at her.

Oh my God! She quickly averted her gaze and focused on answering the question. A fluttery feeling engulfed her stomach before she realized everyone was staring and waiting on her response.


Chapter 2 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

“She certainly knows her stuff,” Miles Parker whispered to his little brother, Brandon, as they stood in the back of the room at the University of Kentucky’s World Hunger Day conference.

“Yeah, but it sounds like a small program,” Brandon replied. Brandon had come to spend his summer break with Miles and to learn about running a business. Miles was determined to give his little brother a real-world education before he went back to Georgia State at the end of the summer.

Miles nodded as he continued to listen to the graceful young lady on the panel explain how she’d introduced her nonprofit program, Rooted Beginnings, into the local school system. He crossed his arms, intrigued not only by what she was saying, but also by her. He’d missed the beginning of her presentation and squinted as he tried unsuccessfully to read the name on her badge. She looked like an elegant ballerina sitting on that stage. He had to find out who she was.

The door to the conference room opened with a creak. Miles turned, along with several other people, to see his college mentor, Professor Abraham, with his receding hairline and large black-framed glasses, step into the room. He’d invited Miles to speak and introduce everyone to his company, Parker Edmunds Foods. The moderator took to the podium to close out the session as the professor peered along the back row and spotted Miles. He smiled. Miles smiled in return, happy to see his old friend. The professor made his way along the wall through the crowd.

Abraham reached out his hand. “Miles Daniel Parker, so happy to see you.” He spoke loud enough to be heard over the applause going on around the room.

Miles pushed away from the wall and clasped the professor’s hand in a firm handshake. “Yes, sir, it’s good to see you, too. And thank you for the invitation.” Everyone around them was getting up and moving. Miles realized now that he’d missed the pretty young lady’s name.

“No, thank you for making room in your busy schedule for our conference. I haven’t seen you in quite a while, so congratulations on your retirement from the Chicago Cubs.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t really have a choice. A bad shoulder and a torn ACL is career ending. But after ten great seasons, I’m not complaining.”

“Then it’s good you were able to put that business degree to good use. The local media keeps up with your accomplishments. You’ve really made a name for yourself in the fight against hunger. Makes me proud!”

“Thank you, sir. We’re doing what we can with the help of organizations all over the world. I’m always interested in learning about new opportunities springing up in the farming industry. You never know what approach is going to have the most impact.”

Brandon cleared his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Miles turned to Brandon. “Let me introduce you to my younger brother, Brandon Parker.”

The professor shook Brandon’s hand. “Guess I don’t have to tell you what a big deal your brother is around here. Two-time All-American Mr. Baseball, and the pride of UK.”

Brandon held his chin high and pulled his shoulders back. “Yes, sir, I know. He’s made the family proud.”

Brandon hadn’t played sports in high school. His popularity had come from riding his brother’s coattails. Where Miles went, Brandon wanted to go. Miles ran his hand across Brandon’s red fro-hawk, which normally freaked him out, but today he merely smiled.

Several people spoke to Miles as they passed. A few reached out to shake his hand and let him know they were big fans. He acknowledged all of them. Visiting the UK campus was always a morale booster. He’d given a lot to the school when he was there, so it felt good to know people hadn’t forgotten him.

“So, what’s this I hear about you doing some business in the area?” the professor asked.

Miles crossed his arms. “Yes, we’re in the process of expanding, so I’m looking for land now. Not right here in Lexington, though. I had something a little more rural in mind.”

The professor smiled. “You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.”

“Yes, sir,” Miles replied with an even bigger smile, not ashamed of his country roots.

The professor looked back over his shoulder before glancing down at his watch.

Miles looked in the same direction, wondering what had happened to the pretty young lady who’d graced the stage earlier.

“I was looking for a former student of mine. She has a very impressive nonprofit aimed at educating the public about organic foods. I know that’s not your area of expertise, but I’d like to introduce you to her.”

Miles’s eyes widened as a flutter of hopefulness passed through them. “Was she on the stage earlier?” he asked.

“Yes, she was.”

“I heard most of her presentation. I’d be happy to meet her. She’s very passionate about her program.”

“She is. Her name’s Kyla Coleman, she’s in our PhD program and her nonprofit is part of her dissertation. It’s an amazing program and a huge undertaking. You two have something in common.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“The desire to end world hunger on your own terms.”

Miles quirked an eyebrow and smiled at the professor. “In that case, I need to make sure I meet this young lady.”

* * *

Five minutes later, Miles and Brandon made their way down the hall to the conference room where Miles was scheduled to speak.

After reading Miles’s bio, the moderator welcomed him on stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the president of Parker Edmunds Foods, Mr. Miles Parker.”

Humbled by the introduction and the round of applause, Miles felt overwhelmed in a good way. As he stepped to the podium, the moderator stepped back. This was the first time Miles had been back to his alma mater to speak, but he hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

In the thirty minutes Miles spoke, he briefly explained how Parker Edmunds Foods was making a difference in the lives of hungry people all over the world. He spouted a few statistics he knew would impress the crowd before letting them know his company was expanding, and bringing jobs to the area. He was also open to new ideas and approaches in the fight to end hunger. After his presentation, he took questions from the audience, who were gratifyingly aware of his company and their accomplishments.

Once his forty-five minutes were up, Miles left the stage to another round of applause. The crowd now wanted autographs. He signed numerous ones before being rescued by Professor Abraham and pulled toward the pretty ballerina he’d spotted earlier.

Up close, she was more beautiful than he thought. Her brown skin was smooth and flawless, devoid of heavy makeup. Her natural beauty piqued his interest—as well as his loins.

“Miles, I’d like for you to meet one of my most promising students, Ms. Kyla Coleman.”

Miles’s chest expanded as he grinned and offered his hand, wrapping it around her elegant slender fingers. “Hello, Ms. Coleman, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her grip was firm.

“Nice to meet you, as well,” she said with a pleasant smile.

“I was in the back of the room during your presentation, and I was impressed. You really have a passion for organic farming.”

She smiled again, and it set off a fluttery feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t used to.

“Yes, I do. You might say it’s my life. I found your presentation...interesting, too. Although I’m not actually sold on the benefits of tinkering with the genetic basis of the world’s food supply, I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

For a brief moment Miles was taken aback, but he quickly recovered and smiled as the professor did the same and stroked his beard.

“That’s not all we do at Parker Edmunds. We’re a relatively young company being introduced to new approaches in farming all the time.”

“But is what you produce beneficial for the community or the environment?” Kyla asked, as she crossed her arms and took on a challenging stance.

Miles glanced at the professor again, and he seemed to be enjoying the conversation. He’d obviously expected this from Kyla, so Miles knew he’d been set up. There were two factions at the conference. Those who dealt in genetically modified foods and those who adamantly opposed them. Both Kyla and the professor were obviously members of the latter group.

Miles cleared his throat. “Check your pantry when you get home, Ms. Coleman. You’re probably eating genetically modified organisms, and you don’t even know it. However, I didn’t come here today to debate the safety of various farming practices. We’re here,” Miles motioned to Brandon standing a few steps away, “to learn what we can in an effort to expand our global approach.”

Kyla smiled at Brandon, and Miles made the introductions as a young volunteer walked over to whisper in Professor Abraham’s ear.

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s a matter I need to attend to,” the professor said, as he reached out for Miles’s hand. “Miles, please don’t leave until I have a chance to sit down with you. Enjoy the rest of the conference.”

Then he turned to Kyla. “Young lady, I leave you in capable hands. Miles here is very interested in nonprofit work. Why don’t you invite him out to the farm? Show him what he’s missing food-wise.”

The professor excused himself and dashed out of the room. Kyla glanced around, looking ready to bolt out right behind him, but Miles wasn’t letting her get away so fast.

“So, tell me about this farm and your workshops.”

Kyla squinted her eyes and tilted her head. “Weren’t you listening to my presentation?”

“Unfortunately, we missed the beginning. I assume that’s when you talked about the farm.”

She hesitated a few moments before going on. “My cousin runs a working organic farm and bed and breakfast a couple of miles from downtown Danville. People come from all over to pick their own organic vegetables and fruits and have our chef prepare them the same day. I joined the staff about a year ago, and I started my nonprofit focusing on clean eating. I teach the benefits of growing your own food, no matter how small or large you start out.”

Miles nodded. “Impressive. That sounds like a nice place. And is it cooking classes you give?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“I teach that what we put in our food, land and water ends up in our bodies. I promote agriculture that is local, a manageable size, humane and socially just. I like to think about our future generations.”

Although she was being curt with him at the moment, Miles had a feeling she loved to talk about her work, given the right setting. He tried to ignore the people around them filling up the room for the next session and focus on the astute woman in front of him.

“You know, Ms. Coleman, my knowledge of organic farming is probably not as extensive as yours. And I’d bet the reason you oppose genetically modified ingredients is due to a lack of knowledge on your part. Before the conference is over, maybe we’ll each have gained a little more insight into both approaches. One may be as good as the other.”

Kyla chuckled and glanced down toward her shoes. “I don’t think so, Mr. Parker. It’s a one-day event. Maybe you should pay a visit to the Coleman Farm—you might learn something. I’ll even let you attend my workshop for free.”

“I just might take you up on that,” he said, seriously considering it.

The crowd around them grew even larger. Miles knew he had to leave to participate in another discussion down the hall, but the desire to leave Kyla Coleman wasn’t there, even though they were at odds. He wanted to get to know her beyond her obvious beauty.

Kyla smiled. “Come on out. I’ll be glad to show you around.” She pulled her tote bag up onto her shoulder. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you. I have another session to attend. Enjoy the conference.”

“You, too. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Miles quickly reached into his suit-coat pocket and whipped out a business card. “My card, should you ever find yourself in need of our services.”

She accepted the card, glanced at it and shoved it into her tote. “Thank you.”

As she walked away, Miles followed the graceful sway of her hips until she left the room. She wasn’t impressed with him, she might not even like him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met his match.

Miles signaled to Brandon that it was time to move on. He tore himself away from a group of young female volunteers and joined Miles.

“Why’d you disappear?” Miles asked.

“You and that lady were going back and forth at each other about farm stuff. Man, I wasn’t trying to hear all that.”

Miles playfully grabbed Brandon by the neck and pushed him in front of him as they walked out of the room. “She invited me out to her farm.”

“I don’t have to go, do I?” Brandon asked.

“Boy, where I go, you go. I’m trying to teach you about business.”

“Looked to me like you had more than business on your mind when you were looking at her.”

Miles chuckled. “It’s strictly business.” What else could it be? he asked himself. Over a year ago, he’d turned his life around and vowed to be celibate until he met the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was determined to become a man his father would have been proud of.


Chapter 3 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

Kyla pushed the covers back and climbed out of bed. Since she’d moved into her cousin’s B and B for the summer, the smell of baking bread always woke her in the morning. Her Aunt Rita arrived at 6:00 a.m. to start breakfast, while Tracee usually pulled in around the same time to start baking. With Rita’s help, Tracee had stepped up her game since last year, baking pies, cakes, cupcakes, cookies and other gourmet treats that were sold in the new Coleman Farm U-pick store. And on Saturday mornings, like today, everything usually sold out.

Kyla had slept a little longer than usual this morning, and hurried to get showered and dressed in time for the morning tour. Hopefully they’d have a lively group today.

The kitchen was abuzz, with Rita and Tracee whirling around loading plates with fresh fruits, yogurt, organic pancakes, organic eggs and Tracee’s mouth-watering organic and vegan banana-almond bread. Kyla joined the whirlwind and grabbed herself a plate.

“Good morning,” she greeted her family.

Before anyone could answer her, the kitchen door swung open and Tayler Coleman, Rollin’s wife, backed her way into the kitchen with her hands full. “We need more food out there. These boys are gonna eat us out,” she said as she set two empty plates on the table. Then she looked up and noticed Kyla. “Morning Kyla.”

“Good morning.” Kyla loved and respected her cousin Tayler. She could listen to the story of how Tayler came to the B and B for a vacation, fell in love with Rollin and never left over and over again. Kyla wasn’t one to believe in fairy tales, but Tayler giving up her corporate VP position in Chicago for the likes of a little country B and B still amazed her.

“We’ve got us a couple of ballers out there,” Tracee said as she handed Tayler two full platters of food. “One said you invited him,” she added and glanced over her shoulder at Kyla.

Kyla frowned and looked up from fixing her plate. “I invited him?” she asked, pointing to herself.

“They asked about taking your workshop this morning, so Rollin invited them to breakfast,” Tayler added, before she backed out of the kitchen into the dining room.

Kyla frequently invited people out to the farm to see how her program worked. But for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine who Tracee meant by ballers. Curious, she set her plate down and walked over to the kitchen door, easing it open just a crack.

She could see a few of the guests, but couldn’t see who was sitting at the other end of the table. She heard Rollin talking to someone. But that wasn’t unusual, since he ate breakfast with the guests on many occasions. Then a voice she recognized made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

The World Hunger Day Conference was over three weeks ago, but that was definitely Miles Parker’s voice.

“Kyla. You okay, honey?” Rita asked.

Kyla let go of the door. “I’m fine.”

Tracee crossed her arms and peered across the room at Kyla. “So where did you go to meet a professional baseball player?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Kyla grabbed her plate and turned to leave the room. “I’ll be in the office if anybody’s looking for me.” She walked down the short hall to the farm’s office, and closed the door behind her. Rollin had converted the billiard room into an office big enough for two desks. He’d even purchased her a laptop.

She didn’t know whether to be excited, nervous or both. When she’d invited Miles to the farm, she was being polite. She never thought he’d actually show up. She’d assumed his interest in her program was out of sheer niceness to Professor Abraham. What did he stand to gain by taking a farm tour? His business wasn’t about organic foods; it was just the opposite.

As the farm’s assistant manager, she needed to check her emails and make a few business calls before the morning tour. She attempted to answer some mail, but she couldn’t get over the fact that the same Miles Parker she’d seen on the front page of the tabloids in the grocery store was in their kitchen eating breakfast. He was infamous for dating celebrities and seemingly doing whatever it took to get him and his buddies on Entertainment Tonight.

A knock on the door snapped Kyla’s thoughts back into place.

“Come in.”

Tracee walked in and closed the door behind her. “We have an idea. Right now Aunt Rita is in the dining room talking to Miles and his friends. Why don’t you get a picture of him while he’s here? We can display it in the dining room to show celebrities have eaten here, like they do in restaurants.”

Kyla’s eyes widened in horror. “I can’t ask him to do that. I don’t know that man. I met him once, and when I invited him out here, I didn’t actually think he’d show up.”

Tracee crossed her arms. “Well, he’s here. Rollin seems to know him, too. And he and his buddies are loving Rita’s breakfast. They ate a whole loaf of my banana bread. He’s not a paying guest, so the least he can do is give us a picture.”

As if Kyla wasn’t already uncomfortable with him being there, now Tracee wanted her to impose on him. She hoped he wasn’t the type of celebrity who hated fans requesting pictures. “Okay, I’ll ask. Since he knows Rollin, maybe he won’t mind. Now get out of here and let me finish these emails.”

“I’ll get my cell phone and meet you guys out by the truck. I can’t believe it, Miles Parker, here!”

“Tracee, don’t go out there and make a fool of yourself. Take one picture of him and Rita. That’s it.”

Tracee turned her lip up at Kyla. “You need to loosen up. You’re no fun, you know that?”

“Yes, I am. I’m a lot of fun. Unlike you, I know the difference between work and play.”

“Whatever.” Tracee walked back to the door. “We’ll meet you outside.”

Once Tracee left, Kyla shook her head. Her sister acted as if she’d never met a celebrity before. Then again, maybe she hadn’t, since Miles was the first celebrity Kyla had ever met. He was not, however, the first player or womanizer she’d ever encountered. Someone from not so long ago came to mind.

She pushed that bad memory from her head and shut down her computer. If it would make Rita happy, she’d ask Miles for a picture.

Kyla grabbed her clipboard and went out the back door to meet Kevin and the truck. Every morning he cleaned the truck up and got it ready for the day’s guests. She found him standing at the back of the shiny, pristine vehicle, as usual.

“Them kids yesterday smashed strawberries all over the floorboards,” Kevin complained as he finished wiping 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 planted a few mulberry trees to draw them away from the cherry trees. For a successful production it’s all in the soil, and its very labor intensive. These trees are planted on the highest point of the farm with plenty of drainage and good soil depth. The fruit tree roots need water-holding capacity.”

“Sounds like you know your fruit trees.”

She nodded. “I do, but the farm specializes in vegetables, so we only plant a few fruits. Mind if I ask what your company’s interest is in organic foods?” Kyla asked. “Your presentation seemed to center around how you shipped overseas.”

“That’s not all we do. My partner and I are committed to ending world hunger. We raise money for various groups and take on pet projects from time to time. We started by working on sustainable self-help solutions in third world countries to fight hunger. I’m proud to say we do a lot of good work. ‘Think globally, not just locally’ is our motto.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that during your presentation, as well. I’ve always liked, ‘Each one, teach one,’ so I guess you can say that’s my motto.”

Kyla held her chin high unable to keep the self-satisfied smile from her lips. She wanted Miles to know he wasn’t the only one proud of the fruits of his labor. She had a catchphrase of her own. He nodded slowly while holding his bottom lip between his teeth. The look took her breath away.


Chapter 4 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

After spending the morning in the hot sun, the truck returned to the B and B, where Kevin and Kyla carried the guests’ baskets in to Rita. A few of the guests chose to return to their rooms. Those who had signed up for Kyla’s workshop waited for her on the front porch.

When Kyla stepped onto the porch, she thanked everyone and then led them to her workshop. Rollin had built Kyla an open-air classroom down the hill from the gift shop. A path led to the gazebo-like structure with mismatched seating that ranged from yard chairs to wooden benches. Flowers and shrubs surrounded the gazebo and a small garden was set off to the right. A sign over the structure read Rooted Beginnings Food Education Workshop.

Kyla helped Rollin secure two interns from the local college every semester. One of the current interns, Ben, assisted with all her workshops. The other, Sean, helped out at the farmers market, which was where Kevin was headed now that he’d dropped them off.

“Morning, Ben,” Kyla greeted the young college senior. He wore round, wire-rimmed glasses and had a baby face. He had everything set up and was just waiting for the morning tour to be over.

“Good morning, Kyla. Everything’s laid out. I left the—” Ben stopped dead in his tracks, and his mouth fell open.

Kyla followed his gaze and realized he recognized Miles.

“Is that Miles Parker, the baseball player?” he asked.

“Yes, it is. He and his friends are taking the workshop this morning.”

“Wow! I never expected to see anybody famous around here. Does he have a farm, too?”

Kyla glanced over at Miles, who seemed to be in a deep discussion with his brother. “I don’t know. He said he’s interested in organics. I guess we’ll see.”

“Would it be rude of me to ask him for an autograph?” Ben looked around like he was searching for paper and a pen.

“Ben, let’s get some work done first. He’s not going anywhere until the workshop is over.” Kyla shook her head, amazed at how much people were flipping over Miles.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Ben walked over to the mobile blackboard he’d set up, along with all the tools needed to maintain a small garden.

After everyone was seated, Kyla moved to the board and began her lecture. “Again, I want to thank everyone for signing up for Gardening Made Simple, brought to you by Rooted Beginnings. Nutrition education empowers people with the tools to make healthy decisions. Before I started my dissertation, I was astonished to find out what some people considered healthy foods. I didn’t grow up on an organic farm, but my parents had a little garden out back, and they believed in eating off the land as much as possible. So I guess you can say my introduction to gardening started at an early age.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Miles staring at her, watching her curiously. The way he hung on her every word made her somewhat uncomfortable. She walked over to the blackboard and began diagramming the bare bones of how to start a simple garden. After the first hour of the lecture, the group moved out into the small side garden she used for demonstrations.

“Everyone grab a pair of gloves. It’s time to play in the soil.” Kyla pulled her own gardening gloves from the pile Ben had put out for everyone.

Miles had been quiet all through Kyla’s lecture, but he walked over to her now.

“I’m not sure if these will do me any good.” He held up his hands, showing her the ill-fitting gloves. They were too small for his big hands.

She reached up to one glove, pulling it down so she could examine the tag just inside the wrist—large. He had big strong hands, with large veins in his wrists. “Hmm, looks like we have a situation. I don’t have any larger gloves.”

“I can just use my hands if you have some place I can wash them afterwards.”

“Aw, I’d hate for you to do that, but it’s not like gloves are going to protect that pretty white T-shirt of yours anyway,” she offered with a sly smile.

“Not to worry,” he said quickly, picking up on her joke. “I’ve got plenty more.”

She smiled. “Of course you do.”

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty and learning everything there is to know about organic gardening. You did say you offer a hands-on approach, correct?”

The way his brows rose with enthusiasm made Kyla laugh. “It would take years to teach you everything I know, and this is only a ninety minute workshop. How about I focus on the importance of good soil for now?”

Miles stripped the tight gloves off and laid them on the table as he gave Kyla another one of his charming smiles that sent her pulse racing again. “I’m all yours,” he said.

Kyla quickly fanned herself as beads of sweat formed across her forehead. She had to turn away from him. “Okay, let’s get started.”

One of the most important segments of the workshop was for the group to be able to distinguish between soil and dirt. She briefly explained why you get rid of dirt, but preserve soil. She also detailed what soil means to farmers. Then she walked around to see who could tell the difference.

Miles had a handful of each when Kyla walked over to him. She asked him the same question she’d asked everyone else. “You can tell the difference, can’t you?” He looked comfortable getting his hands dirty, but she couldn’t say the same for Brandon and Trey, who’d barely touched their samples.

“Sure...the dirt’s brown, and the soil’s black.” He gave her a smile that said he was pleased with himself.

Kyla shook her head. “There’s more to it than that. The soil is an ecosystem of other organisms.” She reached over and took a handful of the soil in front of Miles and held it up. “If you build the perfect soil, your plants will grow and thrive. There’s an art to soil building.”

Miles dropped the hand full of dirt and held the hand full of soil under hers to catch the soil as she poured it from her hand into his. He gently brushed the remaining remnants of soil from her palm with his fingers. His hands swallowed Kyla’s. She wasn’t prepared for the shiver that ran down her spine and splintered through her body.

“So, do you think I can learn this art?” he asked.

She quickly pulled her hands away and brushed them together. “Sure you can.” She cleared her throat and fought hard not to bite her lip, thus displaying how flustered he’d just made her. “I give a full-day workshop on soil building that you can sign up for. We cover everything from composting to manures, mulching, mushrooms and teas.” She recognized the change in pitch of her voice and the fact that she was rambling, so she shut up.

“Tea?” Miles asked.

“Yes, you can fertilize your garden with tea.” Why had Kyla found herself spending more time with Miles than anyone else, yet again?

She quickly realized the rest of the group was standing around brushing soil from their gloves and waiting for her to tell them what to do next. She caught Ben’s eye and motioned for him to start collecting the gloves. “Excuse me, but it’s time to start wrapping up.”

She stepped away from Miles and returned to the head of the class. After thanking everyone for giving her ninety minutes of their day, she passed out brochures detailing her other workshops.

Miles stood off to the side of her, holding out his hands. “You know, I could use that place to wash my hands now.”

“Oh, Mr. Parker, I forgot, I’m sorry. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you where you can clean up.”

“Right behind you,” he said.

They walked up the path toward the back of the house in a leisurely fashion, neither seeming to be in a hurry.

“The tour and the workshop have been amazing so far,” Miles said. “I like the working farm concept. I was chatting with a few of the guests, and this is the couple in green’s second visit.”

“We get a lot of repeat business,” Kyla replied as she glanced over at Miles, who licked his lips and smiled. She quickly focused back on the path ahead of them. “Some couples spend every anniversary here. The freshness of the food and baked goods keep them coming back for more.”

“So, tell me, what is it you do all day when you’re not picking vegetables and building soil?”

Kyla took a deep breath and forced her eyes to stay on the path, and not on Miles. “Well, when I’m not working on my dissertation, I help with marketing and running the farm’s office. I’ve helped arrange monthly specials, like Friday night potlucks, and the B and B celebrates just about everything. I handle most of the social media, also.”

“Potlucks? At a B and B?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Sure. The Coleman House is not your typical B and B. During potlucks, people bring food from neighboring farms. It’s a real community event. Everyone gets involved. It’s fun and organic.”

Miles laughed. “That much I gathered.”

Once they reached the barn behind the house, Kyla pointed to the inside back corner where Rollin had installed a small vanity made of repurposed material.

Miles washed his hands. “I like this setup back here. It’s nice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a sink in a barn before.”

“Rollin’s wife had him put it in. I think they used to spend a lot of time out here. Before the farm expanded, there was only the house and this barn. The sink he crafted from an old metal bucket. The handle of the bucket was drilled into the wall with a hand towel hanging from it. I don’t know where the old mirror came from above the sink.”

He dried his hands on the towel before joining her. “You sound like a busy woman. When do you find time to work on your PhD? Which is pretty impressive by itself, I might add.”

Kyla stifled a grin. “Thank you. My studies and the program have taken over my life. When I’m not working, I’m studying. But I’m not complaining. I believe this is what I was put on this earth to do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who knew so much about minerals, organic matter and how soil filters water to keep it clean.”

Kyla smiled. “You were listening?”

“To your every word.” Miles tilted his head and smiled at Kyla.

Damn, there’s that smile of his again! She blushed while her stomach did a series of backflips. She was used to guests being intrigued by her work, but this level of interest from a celebrity she was not used to, nor her response to his attention. And he kept staring at her, which made her even more self-conscious and puzzled.

“Well, I hope you learned something that will benefit your company.” She led the way out of the barn.

“I learned that Professor Abraham was right. You know a lot about organic farming, and you’re a great teacher. I like your style.”

“Thank you again. You’re dishing out so many compliments, I’m not sure my head is going to fit under the gazebo when I get back.”

Before he could respond, his cell phone rang.

“Excuse me. I need to take this.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, Glenda,” Miles said as he stepped away.

Unexpectedly, Kyla wondered if Glenda was his girlfriend. From what she remembered, he dated starlets from California to New York, nothing but high-profile models and A-list actresses, of course. She continued to walk down the path and back to the group.

Most of the people had left, but a few had hung back, waiting to speak to her. She answered some questions before Miles returned. His brother and friend waited for him outside the gazebo.

“Ms. Coleman, I’d like to thank you for an enlightening morning. I’m afraid we have to leave, but the experience is one I won’t soon forget.”

She could tell he’d enjoyed himself by the huge smile on his face. “Hopefully you have a new appreciation for organics now.”

Miles chuckled. “Let’s say I have a better understanding of the work involved, and I see why you’re so passionate about it. I understand the health benefits, but it seems like a mighty slow way to feed large groups of people.”

“Organic food can feed the masses. If we had more time, I’d tell you how.”

“Another time, then.” Miles held out his hand. “Tell your family I said thank you for breakfast and the hospitality.”

She accepted his hand. “I will.” She looked down at his dirt-and soil-spotted T-shirt. “Next time we’ll have large enough gloves or an apron for you to wear.”

He smiled and brushed at his soiled shirt.

“Drive safely.” Kyla said goodbye and rejoined the group of guests, while Miles and his crew walked up the path to the parking lot. She tried her best not to watch him walk away. Her brush with celebrity had been brief, but entertaining. Yet she still didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He hadn’t struck her as any different from any of the other country boys running around the area. Maybe he was more handsome and charming, and had perfect teeth, which usually scored high in her book, but those weren’t things to get your panties in a bunch about.

Ben walked up next to her. “Are they leaving?”

“Yep,” she said, half relieved, and half saddened, for some strange reason.

“Man, I didn’t get his autograph or anything. I wanted a picture.”

“Ben, he’s just a man. Tracee took pictures with her phone. Ask her to send you one.”

“Okay, but I wanted a selfie with him.” He walked off mumbling, “Man, Miles Parker was here and I didn’t even get a picture.”

Shaking her head, Kyla turned around to clean up her working area, but couldn’t resist the urge to glance up the hill to the parking lot. A large black SUV drove slowly down the long driveway to the main road. She smiled to herself. “Goodbye, Mr. Parker. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

* * *

Exactly a week later, just as the buzz of having a celebrity in the house had all but died down, Kyla walked into the dining room and found a framed photograph of Miles and Rita, smiling from ear to ear. The picture hung above the buffet table.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Tracee asked as she strolled in behind Kyla, pushing a dust mop across the hardwood floors.

Kyla crossed her arms. “Huh, the only thing missing is his scribbled autograph across the bottom.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you think you’ll see him again?” Tracee asked.

Kyla unfolded her arms. “I should think not! It’s not like he’s one of my buddies or anything. If I ever see that man again, it’ll probably be on television coming out of some swanky night club in LA or escorting some starlet on some award show’s red carpet.”

“Well, the more popular he gets, the better for us.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Because you’re going to take one of those pictures I took and put it on our website and Facebook. You can say, ‘A typical guest at The Coleman House B and B.’”

Kyla’s head jerked back. “Aunt Rita is not going to let us post her picture all over the internet. Besides, don’t you have to ask his permission to do something like that?”

“If you knew how to get in touch with him, you could ask.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Nice picture, isn’t it?” Tayler asked, as she stopped at the entrance to the dining room with a hamper full of sheets.

Kyla looked up at the picture again. “You really think so?”

“Of course.” Tayler entered the room. “Rita’s so proud of it. Her first celebrity. She’s thinking about sending a copy to the paper. Rollin told her to go ahead. It might bring a little free publicity our way. I think we can get them to do another feature on the B and B.”

Kyla tilted her head, giving the picture one more careful review. Was Miles really that big a deal? And she hadn’t seen her Aunt Rita happy about any photo taken of herself in years. She did have Miles’s business card in her bag somewhere. Maybe Tayler was right. She shrugged before saying, “I guess I could put up one post.”

Tracee cleared her throat and continued dusting the floor around Kyla. “I’ll email you the pictures.”

Kyla slowly nodded. After all, what harm could it do?


Chapter 5 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

“Are we sure we want to get in bed with these guys?” Glenda asked.

Miles sat across the table from his business partner, at Saul Good’s sandwich shop, and contemplated her question. In the five years he and Glenda Edmunds had been in business together, her instincts had never been wrong. Glenda may have the body of a supermodel, but she also had the brains of a business mogul. The first time they met at a local beer festival he attended with friends, he asked her out. That date turned into a business meeting, and the partnership was formed.

“What about the Latin American deal don’t you like?” Miles asked.

“It’s too good to be true. I agree we need more public–private partnerships to generate crops that meet the needs of poorer countries, but the study they’re citing, I’ve never heard of this institute.” She pushed some papers across the table to him. “Give me a little more time to study them before we all sit down.”

He picked up the papers and skimmed over the first page. “Sure, take a few more days.”

“Great.” Glenda closed her folder and sat back in her seat. “So, how are things going with Brandon?”

After taking a deep breath, Miles rested his forearms on the table’s edge and turned his hands palms up. “He’s coming along, I guess. It’s not quite the summer vacation he planned, but I’m gonna make sure he goes back to school with some real-world business experience.”

“How did he like the World Hunger Day conference?”

Miles shrugged. “He got bored and started hitting on some of the young female volunteers.”

Glenda laughed. “He’s a Parker, all right. Why don’t you let him shadow me for a week or so? We can take care of some business, and he can help me shop for a new car.”

“Oh, he’ll love that. The car part, anyway.”

She held her fork up. “Then let’s make it happen.”

Miles nodded, and they continued to eat. After several bites, Glenda got back to business.

“So, last week when we spoke you were going to check out the property in Nicholasville I was telling you about. What happened with that?”

“It’s been a crazy week. I haven’t had time to run back down there.”

“I thought you were already in the area? You said you were in Danville.”

“I was actually on a working organic farm in Danville.”

Glenda put her fork down, laughing, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You worked on an organic farm? What on earth for?”

“At the conference, my college mentor introduced me to this woman who has a nonprofit program called Rooted Beginnings that focuses on organic fruits and vegetables. She’s already gotten her program into the local school system. She’s pretty sharp.”

Glenda leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Oh, I get it now. What’s her name?”

“Kyla Coleman. She’s working on her PhD. And what is it that you get, exactly?” he asked before taking another bite of his burger.

“Why Miles Parker would spend any time on a farm.”

Miles straightened his back. Glenda knew him better than anyone. He wasn’t the type of guy who planted his own anything. He purchased everything from the grocery store or had the store deliver. She also knew he wasn’t the womanizer the gossip rags made him out to be. “Glenda, you know me better than that. Her program sounded like something I might be interested in, so I decided to check it out.”

“Miles, dial it back. You’re talking to me. We deal in drought-resistant soybean seeds, not organic fruits and vegetables. Unless you’re thinking about investing in another business?”

“No, of course not. But I like to remain open to everything. During her presentation, she mentioned something about a new method in farming. I was hoping to learn more, but she didn’t get into that.”

“So what did you learn?”

“That she places a large emphasis on food education. It was interesting.”

Glenda leaned forward. “In other words, nothing, when you should have been checking out that fourteen-acre farm in Nicholasville. I’m telling you, it’s going up for foreclosure, and we need to grab it.”

Miles wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m thinking about going back down there for a week, so I’ll check it out then.”

Glenda’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. The farm is also a B and B. The owner, Rollin Coleman, is a former football player from UK. He was there at the same time I was. It’s a nice place. Besides, in half a day’s time I didn’t get to see much of what she does.”

Glenda exhaled a long breath and looked down at the table. Then she inhaled and raised her head. “Miles, I hope it’s the farming you want to get up close and personal with, and not something else.”

Finished eating, Miles pushed his plate aside. “Glenda, I’m all about business. If anybody knows that by now, it’s you.”

Glenda also pushed her plate aside just as the waiter came to clear the table. After he walked away she said, “I know, you’ve been more focused than ever lately. It’s ultimately up to you, but I don’t think I’d stay a whole week. A day or two, maybe. What do you hope to learn in a week’s time?”

A little voice in the back of Miles’s head told him to listen to Glenda, but his instincts shut that voice up. “Something that will take our business to the next level. You know how we stumbled across that microfinancing connection?”

Glenda nodded.

“Well, if my instincts are any good, our next business venture might be right there waiting for me to come digging in the dirt.”

* * *

After Miles had his assistant book him a room at the B and B under an assumed name, she’d informed him that the photo he’d authorized via email of himself and the cook was posted proudly on their website. He smiled when he thought about that day as he headed back to the B and B to spend some more time. The only thing that mildly worried him now was not being able to monitor Brandon for a week, but Glenda had assured him she had everything under control.

Miles arrived at the B and B on a Sunday evening just past sunset. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat of his SUV and walked up to the front porch. Two guests had taken up residence in the large white rocking chairs that flanked the front door.

“Good evening, folks,” Miles said in greeting.

“Evening, sir.” An elderly man in wire-rimmed spectacles holding a glass of what looked like whiskey, but was probably iced tea, returned the greeting.

“Good evening.” The woman across the porch with knitting yarn and needles in her lap spoke without looking up.

Miles smiled at the Norman Rockwell-ish scene and opened the front door. He walked into the foyer and immediately smelled something baking. He didn’t know if it was apple pie, banana bread or a combination of both, but it smelled wonderful. The first time he’d visited, he had two young men with him who took most of his attention. This time, the grandness of the foyer caught his eye the minute he walked in. He was reminded of several classic films he’d watched that were set in the South.

He strolled over to the front counter while marveling at the staircase that was unlike anything he’d seen in a typical Southern home. No one was around, so he tapped the little silver bell on the desk. He turned around and leaned against the counter.

So, this is my home for the next five days. Nice. The Coleman House B and B wasn’t as posh as some hotels he’d stayed in, but this was pure Southern charm.

The hall door opened, and a beautiful black sister came out to greet him.

“Hello, thank you for visiting The Coleman House. Are you checking in?” she asked.

“Yes, I have a room reserved for the week.” He blinked, almost forgetting his false name. “Uh, Frank Meeks,” he finally said with a smile.

She tapped his name into the computer. “Yes, Mr. Meeks, we’ve been expecting you. Are you alone?”

“Yes, just me for the week.”

“Well, it says here you’re paying by credit card, so if I can see the card we’ll get you all checked in.”

While Miles fished the card out of his pocket, the young lady kept talking.

“Are you in town for a special occasion or visiting the college, maybe?”

He shook his head and handed her his credit card. “No.”

She looked at the card and then back up at the computer before her brow creased. “I’m sorry, but the name on the card and the name I have here,” she touched her computer screen, “don’t match.”

He leaned on the counter. “Yeah, about that. I had my assistant make the reservation in another name, if you don’t mind, to protect my privacy while I’m here. I’m here to do a little research.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Research? What kind of research?”

Before he could answer, the door opened again and a woman he recognized, but whose name he couldn’t remember, walked out.

“Mr. Parker!” she exclaimed.

Miles straightened and smiled. “Hello. I’m back.”

“Corra, this is Miles Parker, the baseball player in the picture with Rita.” The woman who’d come to Miles’s rescue now held out her hand. “Remember me? I’m Tayler, Rollin’s wife. We took a picture together, too. I’m the one who used to live in Chicago.”

Miles raised his chin and accepted her hand. “Yes, I remember. Tayler, it’s nice to see you again.” The introductions during his first visit had been brief, but he remembered her face.

“You’re checking in?” Tayler asked with wide eyes.

“Frank Meeks is checking in,” Corra corrected, then winked at Tayler.

“Although it’s not always necessary, I sometimes use an assumed name in order to get a little privacy. I want to spend some time learning about Rooted Beginnings and the rest of the farm.”

“Oh, sure, not a problem.” Corra continued signing him in. “My husband used to play football for the University of Kentucky. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Christopher Williams?”

Miles took a step back and chuckled. “Of course I know Chris. He was an upperclassman when I was at UK. That’s right, he’s from around here, isn’t he?”

“Yep, he grew up in Danville,” Corra replied. She handed Miles his credit card back.

“Man, it would be great to see him before I leave.” He put the card back into his pocket.

“He’s out of town right now, but I’m sure I can make that happen as soon as he returns,” Corra said with a smile.

“That would be great.”

Tayler came from behind the counter. “Let me show you to your room. I hope you’ll find it acceptable.”

“Thank you.” He quickly turned back to Corra. “It was a pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to catching up with Chris this week.”

She smiled. “The pleasure was all mine.”

Miles picked up his bag and followed Tayler up the grand staircase.

“You don’t have to worry about your privacy. We’re very good at keeping our guest list from prying eyes.”

“Thank you. I usually don’t do things like this by myself, so I kind of want to enjoy the experience. I can’t believe Rollin and Chris are both affiliated with this B and B.”

“Seems like a reunion for you guys.” Tayler stopped at the first door on the right at the top of the stairs. With a key, she opened the door and walked in. “This suite has a king size bed and looks out onto the gardens out back. It’s cozy, but it has all the modern conveniences.” She opened the bathroom door and turned on the light. “I think you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

He walked into the room and dropped his duffel bag next to the bed. “This is great.” The room was nicely decorated in neutral colors and came with a four-poster bed, a fireplace, and a small desk and chair perfect for his laptop, if he bothered to pull it out this week. He walked over and peeked into the bathroom, happy to see a shower large enough for him.

Tayler stood in the room’s entrance. “Well, there’s herbal tea and cookies in the dining room if you’re interested. Breakfast starts at seven, and the truck leaves at eight. You’ve experienced that before, so you know what to expect.”

He smiled at her, happy with the hospitality and the fact that she didn’t ask him a lot of questions. “That’s the reason I’m here.”

“I bet Kyla will be surprised to see you in the morning. She’s out right now.”

He felt an unexpected warmth at the mention of her name. “I hope I’ll be a good surprise.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Tayler said with raised brows. “Well, we have an extensive library if you want to kick back and read something or watch a movie. As soon as Rollin returns, I’ll let him know who Frank Meeks really is,” she said with a wink before leaving Miles alone.

He sat down to test out the bed. It was nice and comfortable. The size of the room reminded him of his bedroom growing up, only he didn’t have his own bathroom. He took off his shoes and fell back across the bed to stare up at the ceiling. Why had he decided to take a week out of his busy life to stay in this small-town B and B picking organic vegetables? He was interested in Kyla’s pitch from a business perspective, but did he really need to get his hands dirty?

If he was being honest with himself, maybe Glenda was right and there was more to his visit than research.


Chapter 6 (#ud95c44f9-6b9a-5036-9776-75c1b45efc31)

On Monday morning, Kyla climbed out of bed in a great mood, hurried through her usual routine of showering and then throwing on her uniform.

Breakfast at The Coleman House was the busiest time of the day. The usual smell of bread baking and tea simmering made Kyla’s stomach grumble. She greeted her family before grabbing a muffin off a platter on the kitchen table. This morning she was hungrier than usual.

Tayler popped into the kitchen from the dining room, balancing two empty plates in one hand and a pitcher of orange juice in the other.

“You!”

Kyla jumped.

“What time did you come in last night?” Tayler demanded, as she deposited the plates in the sink and the pitcher on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t know. Not too late, why?” Kyla took a bite of her muffin. Tayler’s tone surprised her. They hadn’t insisted she come in at any particular time since she’d moved in. Was she in trouble?

Tayler crossed her arms. “Because we waited up for you, that’s why.”

Stumped, Kyla glanced around the room. They’d never waited up for her before. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Rita walked in from the back hall, clearing her throat and looking in Tayler’s direction. Something was going on.

“No, everything’s okay. Rollin just wanted to talk to you, but it can wait until around lunch,” Tayler answered, after she glanced over at Rita.

Kyla glanced from Tayler to Rita, who had started humming as she loaded the dishwasher. “Okay, I’ll look for him.”

“Well, breakfast is over and the guests are waiting on the front porch, so you’d better get going,” Tayler said, walking over to help Rita clean the kitchen.

“Okay.” Kyla decided to play along. Tayler had never rushed her out of the house before. She left the kitchen and grabbed the clipboard from the hall with the names of all the guests for today. She walked out the back door shaking her head. Those ladies are up to something.

Kevin had the truck parked in its usual spot and was currently sweeping the bed with a broom.

“What we got this morning?” he asked as Kyla approached.

She read through the list then tossed the clipboard into the passenger’s seat.

Kevin secured the broom under the seats and jumped down from the truck bed as she climbed up, taking her seat on the bench below the rear window.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said before climbing into the truck and starting it up.

They drove to the front of the house to pick up the guests, and Kyla jumped down the minute Kevin stopped. She lowered the back step to help an elderly couple who’d been with them a week now.

Kyla was on autopilot—until the front door opened and an unexpected guest walked out.

Every muscle in her body stiffened as Miles Parker stepped out the front door ahead of Rollin. They shook hands before Rollin walked off and Miles strolled toward the truck. Kyla took a long, deep breath to slow her racing heartbeat and regain control of her senses. What was he doing here? Now she understood the strangeness in the kitchen earlier.





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