“She’s very talented,” Ethel says. “I couldn’t believe what all she did with my interview. Added all kinds of music and little cartoons and everything. Made me out like a superhero.”

“You and your club are heroes, Ethel,” I say, my passion for the subject overriding my well-founded wariness around the Congento boys. “In the United States alone, we’ve lost ninety percent of our fruit and vegetable varieties. You’re an essential part of the effort to protect what little crop diversity remains.”

Carlos, seemingly oblivious to the not-so-subtle digs I’m making at his company’s expense, continues to ask questions until I can’t take it anymore.

“What, total vertical integration isn’t enough for you? You’ve got to stamp out every tiny little effort to undermine Congento’s ever-growing control of our food supply?”

His brow wrinkles, and he tips his head to the side. “Congento?”

I point my fork at him and then at Sam. “Aren’t you his boss? At Congento?”

Sam clears his throat and then raises his brow to speak slowly. “I don’t work there anymore. I quit nine months ago.”

Wait. Sam and I met nine months ago.

“You quit? Nine months ago?” The phrase echoing in my head as well as my mouth, gravity wins, and my fork hits the floor.

“How did you know Sam worked at Congento?” Colleen asks, like she’s acting out a part.

I blow out a breath. “Because the last time I saw him, he did.”

Sam wipes his mouth with his napkin, folds it, and places it next to his plate. “May Diane and I be excused, Gran?”

“But—” I begin. I mean, I’m all for a chance to yell at him and then jump his bones, and I don’t want to do either in polite company, but I don’t want to miss that berry dessert.

“We just need to discuss an important matter,” Sam says, eyes on me. “We’ll be back shortly.”

Ethel narrows her eyes at Sam, while Colleen looks like she’s about to burst out laughing. Feeling exposed, I get to my feet. “Yep. We’ll be right back. Excuse me.”

Without waiting for Sam, I make a beeline for the front door. Outside, I take a deep breath and keep walking, past the shed I know now truly is the sheep’s home. So weird. I’ve almost made it to the pole barn by the time Sam catches me.

“That day at the state house,” he growls, getting in my way. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

“Explain why you lied to me? Or why you humiliated me?”

“It was my job.”

“You could’ve at least given me a heads up.”

“First off, I didn’t know you’d be there.” I step back, doing my best to hang onto my mad. He follows, his expression driving me back and making me want to rub up against him all at the same time. “Second, I didn’t know that you work for a seed bank. Third, I had no idea that I was going to be on that panel. My boss was supposed to do it, but he got food poisoning.”

“Lucky him. He didn’t have to spout lies in front of a government commission. I mean, seriously? Agroterrorism?”

“I quit before I’d even left the building, Diane. I tried to find you, but you disappeared.” His head tips to the side, and he narrows his eyes. “And now you’re here getting all cozy with my family.”

I throw a hand up between us. “I had no idea it was your family. And it doesn’t look like you’re terribly cozy with them, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, that’s a long story.”

I blow out a breath. Oh, families and long stories we don’t want to tell. But instead of admitting that, I double down. “You have no idea what you have here, you dummy.”

He stiffens. “I may be a lot of things, but dumb is not one of them.”

“Oh, yeah? Well you may be smart up here”—I reach up to knock once on his forehead, then tap his chest as I say—“but here? Not so much.”

Suddenly, I’m pressed up against the pole barn. “What about here?” he asks, as he whispers a kiss below my ear.

Without checking with my brain, my hands grab the sides of his face and pull his mouth to mine. “About as smart as you are here,” I snap, before covering it with my own.

And then it’s on. He grabs my ass, hikes me up so we’re level, and presses me up against the side of the barn. I never knew I had this fantasy, but I’m into it. My legs grip his slim waist, and my ankles lock behind his back as we devour each other.

Turns out, berry cobbler has nothing on this man and his mouth.

Or his hands. Which I need to feel on my bare skin. But just as I manage to untuck my shirt, something cold and wet hits my side, making me yelp. “What the⁠—”

“Gomer, off!” Sam yells, stepping away so fast that I almost land on my ass. The dog backs off too, but he doesn’t go far, whining as his gaze flicks from me to his owner and back again.

“He’s right, Sam. This is…” I push past him. “A bad idea.”

And then I hightail it back to the house before I can get any other bad ideas.

CHAPTER 9SAM

For the third time in our short acquaintance Diane disappears, leaving me dazed. I’m so discombobulated, in fact, that I’m not even sure what happened. Did I get to explain what happened the morning we testified? Did I apologize? Did my dog just cockblock me?

“Woof.” Gomer noses around in the dirt before pressing something into my hands. It feels like a piece of fabric. I can’t make out any details in the dim light, but when I bring it to my nose, a memory hits me: A curtain of brown hair tickling my chest and belly as Diane kisses her way down my torso.

Aaand I’m as desperate for her as I was five minutes ago.

She was wearing some kind of headband at dinner. It must’ve gotten knocked off when we were making out. “Thanks, buddy. If you had to get between us, at least now I have a reason to talk to her again.”

But when I mount the steps to my grandmother’s house, a different female is sitting alone on the porch swing.

“You okay Ree?” I ask my twin. When I was little, I couldn’t make the “L” sound for a long time. At first I called her Kah-reen, but it eventually got shortened to Ree. She, on the other hand, articulated both my first and middle names perfectly and, like our mother, would call me Samuel Daniel whenever she was pissed at me, which eventually got shortened to Sam-Dan.

Better than my grandfather’s nickname for me: Mule. As in the back end of Sam-muel.

She startles, like she was lost in thought. “Yeah, well, not exactly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Diane was back?”

She smirks. “What would be the fun in that?”

Shoving the hairband in my pocket, I sigh. “Seriously?”

Gomer shoves his head under her hand, and she pets him absently. “Nah. I didn’t know she was here until dinner. I guess Gran nagged her till she came back. Something about making videos about Baabara.”