“You’re welcome. I live to serve the people.”
And with that, Spenser turned and stalked away, not wanting Foster to see she’d gotten under her skin. With a local media apparatchik, such as it was, in his corner, Johansen was setting himself up for a bruising, big city style, rough and tumble, no-holds-barred campaign. If she was going to keep her job, Spenser was going to need some help. If she was going to keep her job, she needed to drop the gloves, roll up her sleeves, and not be afraid to get her hands dirty.
It was the most distasteful part of her job, and thinking about it turned her stomach.
“What in the world is going on here?” Spenser asked.
She had to shout to be heard over the machinery that was busy excavating the land on the southern end of Ryker’s property. The air was filled with clouds of dust and the stench of diesel fuel. Ryker stood on a small rise, arms folded over his chest, watching the progress like a general standing sentinel over his troops in the field. He turned when Spenser stepped up beside him, the stern expression on his face quickly morphing into a smile that, even after all these months, still managed to steal her breath.
“We’re clearing out the land down on this end of the property that isn’t being used for anything,” he replied.
“But why?”
“I’m putting in an apple orchard.”
“An apple orchard?”
He nodded. “An apple orchard.”
Spenser laughed. “Okay, at the risk of sounding repetitive… but why?”
“I’m going to start a hard cider business,” he replied. “I’m doing some research now to find the best apples to make it with, but I’ve got a few ideas already.”
“Hard cider, huh?”
“Hard cider,” he replied. “Small batch, limited reserve stuff.”
“But… why?”
Ryker laughed as he spun around and pulled her into a tight embrace. He slipped his arms around her waist and gave her a gentle peck on the lips, looking into her eyes with a gleam of pure affection that made her heart swell.
“Did anybody ever tell you that you can sound like a bratty five-year-old sometimes?”
Spenser grinned. “Yeah. You did. That was yesterday, in fact.”
“Well, it’s still true.”
“At least I’m consistent.”
“There’s that.”
Ryker gave her another kiss and let her go as he turned back to watch the men and machinery working in the field. They stood in silence for a couple of minutes before Spenser turned to him.
“Seriously, what’s with this cider deal? Getting out of the coffee business?” she asked.
“Not at all. But it’s humming along well enough on its own, and I kind of feel like I want to do something new.”
“Ahhh. Got bored being at the top of the coffee mountain and need a new challenge, huh?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well, I’m sure this will be as successful as your coffee house.”
“I hope so,” he said. “I’ve still got a lot to learn, but I’m looking forward to it.”
Ryker was the kind of man who always needed a new mountain to climb. It was therapeutic for him and helped him keep his demons at bay. It was a little obsessive and perhaps not the healthiest thing per se, but it was still miles better than how she’d seen so many others cope with their issues.
“Well, I certainly look forward to enjoying the fruits of your labors,” Spenser said.
“It’s going to be a while. I need to plant the trees. They need to grow—”
“I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
Ryker slipped his arms around her waist again and pulled her close. “Good answer.”
He gave her another kiss, setting off a swarm of butterflies in her belly and a flutter through her heart. She leaned her head against his chest, relishing the safety she felt in his arms. When she was with Ryker, she was more present and, in the moment than she felt when she wasn’t.
As she listened to his heart beating steadily and solidly in his chest, though, she thought about her last words, “I’m not planning on going anywhere.” She wasn’t planning on it, but Rafe Johansen was certainly planning on making sure she did. As she recalled her conversation with the man coming for her job, Spenser tensed up, dulling that warm glow she was wrapped up in. Still holding her around the waist, Ryker looked down at her, concern flashing through his milk chocolate-colored eyes.
“Hey, what’s up? You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Something’s bothering you,” he replied.
