Hearts Like Ours | Red View Romance #1

🍎 Nine

Even the sound of the fruit grading machine wasn't enough to drown out Dawson's thoughts. He was so caught up in thinking about what Layla said the night before that so far he'd managed to drop four apples while bagging them for the shop.

The expansive sorting building, with its worn wooden walls and high windows that let in the August sun, was usually his safe haven. Jack and Kenzie could never stand the noise or the lack of air conditioning in the summer, so it was here where he went to get away from everything else. He liked the solitude, the drone of the machine, and the fact that bagging apples was second nature. Well, usually. Today, everything just felt off. 

He didn't think his mind would stop turning over questions about Layla even if the machine suddenly burst into flames. Hell, the red would probably just remind him of her hair.

It just didn't make sense. She could have any man she wanted; what the hell was she doing marrying some guy she didn't even like? With how quick she'd snapped back at him after the workout and how she'd caught on to his slightly-pathetic way of cornering her into walking with him last night, he knew she was smart. So how could she do something so stupid?

Was Foster Fitness collapsing as a business, and this was the last chance to save it? He doubted that—they had celebrities plastered all over their Instagram, and their YouTube workout videos hit a million views easy. Okay, so maybe he'd done some snooping last night hoping to find out more about Layla. It wasn't a crime to be curious.

He walked over the nearby wheelbarrow and began stacking the clear bags of Gala's inside. Social media only told so much, though, and he knew that. What if she really was giving up any chance at love just to save the business?

On one hand, Dawson could understand. McAden Orchard was his life, and he wasn't sure who he'd be without it. But as he wheeled the apples out of the propped-open barn doors, down the dirt path towards the shop, he almost had to pause for a second as the weight of it hit him: he couldn't do it. If the orchard was failing and the only way to save it was to marry some random cherry orchard heiress from down the road, he wouldn't.

He laughed to himself as he maneuvered the wheelbarrow through the back doors of the store. No, he wouldn't do it, but he'd probably try to convince Jack to.

Still, what did it say about him? About Layla? Again, he found himself respecting the passion, but had to wonder if it was better to have too little than too much of it.

Dawson walked through to the main floor where Adam was at the register ringing up items for an elderly couple. He nodded at his cousin as he passed, heading for the apple display—until he caught a flash of red hair in one of the aisles. His feet seemed to change direction all on their own.

Layla was standing there with a jar of applesauce in each hand, looking over the descriptions on the back that Kenzie and Jack had written together—when it came to describing food, Dawson rarely came up with anything more descriptive than, "It tastes good."

She had one of the store's red baskets at her elbow, resting against her hip. And now, with the way the day was shining down onto her and making her hair look like liquid sunlight, he could see the appeal of the skylight.

"Careful," Dawson said as he approached, grabbing her attention. Her eyes met his, and her eyebrows raised in a greeting that didn't seem to hold any animosity. After last night, he wasn't sure exactly where they stood. "You stay long enough in here, you might end up spending more than my sister's paying you."

He felt his tension melt as she smiled at the joke. Apparently, they weren't on bad terms. He'd half expected her to go storming off.

She gestured to her basket. "I think I'm halfway there."