All I Have
Let the battle begin
Mia Pruitt wishes Dell Wainwright would keep his shirt on. The Naked Farmer lures customers by stripping to his perfectly worn jeans while he and Mia sell vegetables from competing stands at the farmers’ market. It’s time for a showdown, and they’re each in it to win.
Yet when both farms end up in jeopardy, Mia and Dell suddenly find themselves on the same team. If their rivalry was hot, their attraction is steaming, but they can’t seem to agree on a plan. If they could only learn to grow together, they might reap the best harvest of all...
“What are you doing?”
What was he doing? Well, he certainly wasn’t thinking. Mia was like a salve to a wound, and since everything was all mixed up and tangled anyway... “Considering kissing you, actually.”
She pulled her head back even more, holding out her hands like double stop signs. “You can’t kiss me!”
It was such a strange response to him trying to kiss her, Dell was almost amused. Refusal he’d expected. Some kind of scathing comment, yup. A sort of weird panic complete with squeaky voice and bug eyes? It was kind of cute.
“Why not?”
Dear Reader,
I’ve been in love with farms since I can remember. The romantic side of me likes to think love is a gene, passed down from generations before. My grandfather had to quit farming long before I was born, but when I was a kid he bought back the farmhouse he’d grown up in. He’s always told me that farmhouse is his heart. The poetry of that sentiment stuck with me, and I was determined to put that heart into a book. So I wrote a story about two farmers whose farms were their hearts.
I sold that book (and a second book in the series) to Harlequin E in 2013, and in 2014 that book came out as part of the Harlequin E Contemporary Box Set Volume 2, and then on its own in September of 2014 under the title All I Have.
When Harlequin E folded, the awesome Harlequin Superromance team offered to move the entire Farmers' Market series to Superromance. Since the original two books were shorter, this came with the caveat that All I Have would need an additional 20,000 words. So, here we are!
All I Have is longer than the original version, but it’s the same story of two people whose hearts are their farms and belong to each other.
Happy reading!
Nicole Helm
nicolehelm.wordpress.com
All I Have
Nicole Helm
NICOLE HELM grew up with her nose in a book and a dream of becoming a writer. Luckily, after a few failed career choices, a husband and two kids, she gets to pursue that writing dream. She lives in Missouri with her husband and two sons and dreams of someday owning a barn.
To my Grandpa Beck. You once said the farm was your heart, so I gave Mia and Dell your heart.
Many thanks to the people at Harlequin, especially Alissa Davis for believing in this book from the beginning and making it even stronger, and Piya Campana for bringing it to Harlequin Superromance. I will be forever grateful for having the opportunity to work with both of you.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
“GUH.”
Mia Pruitt ran smack-dab into her sister’s back, causing the pallet full of cabbages she was carrying to drop to the ground. Green spheres bounced against the concrete with a thud and rolled in every direction.
“Damn it, Cara.” At least cabbage was one of the hardier vegetables Mia had for the early-spring market. The drop wouldn’t really damage them.
“Sorry.” But Cara didn’t move. She stood frozen directly in the path between the truck bed and Mia’s stand at the farmers’ market, cabbage strewn about her feet.
Mia looked where Cara’s gaze was transfixed and groaned. “Is he serious? It’s not even fifty degrees. Can’t he wait until July for that crap?”
“Who cares?” Cara fanned her face with her hand. “He can take his shirt off any day he wants. And if he gets cold, I will gladly step in to warm him up.”
Dell Wainwright and his stupid shirtless antics had put a serious dent in their farmers’ market profits last year. Cara didn’t care, but this wasn’t her full-time job. Mia was the one taking over the farm. Mia was the one making this stand into a living. She cared, and she was going to find a way to combat him this year.
Dell might look like a god among men shirtless behind his table full of spring vegetables, but she’d jump around naked in front of everyone before she let him put her out of business. This farmers’ market was the best thing to happen to her share of Pruitt Farms and to her personally. In the past four years she’d been selling here, she had finally learned how to come out of her shell.
In its fifth year, the market had grown to fill up half a mall parking lot. Tables with awnings lined the outer lot. In early spring, there were only two rows, but by midsummer there’d be four. Each booth was made up of a variety of locally sourced items. From her and Dell’s locally grown vegetables to people selling meat, eggs, local and homemade cheeses and honeys and breads, and a few craft and soap stands.
Each year they had more customers, and each year Dell’s stand had directly competed with hers. She’d managed to build up her business to break even and was this close to making it profitable.
Yeah, Dell was not screwing that up. Six-pack abs or no six-pack abs. “Stop drooling and pick up the cabbage.” She gave Cara a nudge with her boot. “He’s the enemy, remember?”
“If the enemy looks like that, I’ll gladly turn myself in. What kind of torture are we talking?”
“Gross.”
“If you think that’s gross, you need your eyes checked.” Cara flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent down to pick up the cabbage at her feet. Her eyes never left Dell.
Mia set to unloading the early-spring haul onto the table under the Pruitt Farms tent. Meanwhile, Cara made no bones about watching Dell’s every move.
Cara was always dating or talking about guys she wanted to date or pinning hot celebrity pictures to her Pinterest page. It wasn’t that Mia didn’t appreciate a hot guy. She just didn’t understand obsessing over one.
Probably because twenty-six-year-old virgins didn’t know what they were missing.
Mia set up the pallets, the price signs, made sure everything was just so, and maybe on occasion her gaze drifted to Dell and his broad, tanned shoulders as he hauled his own farm’s offerings from truck to table.
He was still the enemy, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t look.
“So glad to see you girls back this year,” Val greeted them, ever-present clipboard clutched to her chest. “You’re going to stick with us all year, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Couldn’t kick us out if you wanted.”
Val wasn’t looking at her anymore, though. She was drooling over Dell, right along with Cara. Mia resisted the urge to hurl a cabbage across the aisle. Knowing Dell, he’d probably make a big show out of catching it.
“Uh-huh. Very good. See you next week.” Val wandered off to Dell’s table. In two seconds flat, Dell was making her giggle and blush.
“You can’t stop staring, either.”
“I’m picturing strangling him.” If that picture included wondering what his skin might feel like under her hands it was curiosity, not interest. Or so she told herself, year after shirtless year.
“Hey, whatever floats your boat.”
A group of women descended on Dell’s table. Usually the first hour of the first week of the market was virtually empty, but today had a bit of a crowd. A mainly female crowd.
Not fair. What’d he do, advertise? Male stripper does Millertown Farmers’ Market.
The group of women laughed and Dell made a big production of picking things up and putting things down and flexing and—ugh—he really was despicable.
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not!” Damn it. She totally was. Well, she’d come too far to be flustered by a pair of perfectly toned forearms. She was not the little girl who hyperventilated in the bathroom between classes if a boy even said hi to her.
It had always been a joke anyway. Say hi to Mia Pruitt and watch her self-destruct into a blushing, babbling mess.
Dell wasn’t saying hi to her, joke or no joke, and he most certainly wasn’t a boy. He was an adult man and she was an adult woman. A confident, strong woman no longer the laughingstock of her tiny Missouri farming community.
Every time someone bought a head of broccoli or cabbage from him, they weren’t buying it from her. So, essentially, he was stealing.
Nobody liked thieves no matter how white their teeth were or how charming their grin might be.
“You know what?” Mia dropped the cash box onto the ground next to her chair with a loud crash. “Two can play his little game.” She was done just...taking it. Maybe it was time to fight.
Cara laughed. “What does that mean? You going to take your shirt off?”
“Not exactly.” Mia narrowed her eyes at Dell flirting with a young mom who carried a baby on her hip. Both mom and baby were charmed. Mom bought a bag full of vegetables. Probably wouldn’t eat half of them before they went bad.
Mia might not have muscles and a five o’clock shadow women swooned over, but surely she could do something to undermine Dell’s sex-sells philosophy.
If you couldn’t beat ’em, join ’em. She wasn’t sure how to join them yet, but she would damn well figure it out before next week. She was tired of being the passive taker-of-crap. She was going to act.
* * *
“MIA’SBORINGHOLES through your skull with her eyes. Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
Dell waved his brother off. “Please. Mia Pruitt is five foot three of all bark and no bite in a baggy sweatshirt.”
“I don’t know. She takes this farm stuff pretty seriously.” Charlie stacked the last empty pallet on the truck bed. “Wouldn’t want to get in her way. Besides, she’s not bad without the glasses and the frizzy hair. Kind of cute, actually.”
“I’m not worried about Mia.” Dell pulled on a threadbare Mizzou sweatshirt. “I take my farm stuff pretty seriously, too.” He spared her a glance. Cute was probably the right word for her. With her hair straight instead of a frizz of curls and the heavy-framed glasses gone, she no longer resembled Mia, Queen of the Geeks.
But in the baggy shirt and at-least-one-size-too-big jeans, even a sexy mouth and big green eyes couldn’t push her beyond cute.
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, nothing says serious like taking off your shirt and flexing your muscles to sell a few extra cucumbers.”
“Hey, a true businessman does what he has to do.”
Charlie shook his head. “Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night, man.”
His VP of sales older brother could sneer at the farm and all that went with it as much as he liked, but with Dad making noises about selling instead of passing the farm on to Dell, Dell knew he had to kick ass this market season. That meant whatever tactics necessary, regardless of Charlie’s approval.
If that meant taking off his shirt, so be it. A little harmless flirting and a few extra dollars in his pocket wouldn’t hurt anyone, and it’d help him. Why did people have to assume that meant he was an idiot? He was raking it in.
“Can we hurry this up? I’ve got a lunch date with Emily downtown in, like, an hour.”
Dell nodded and picked up the pace. Choosing a noisy, bustling dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown over the quiet ease of lunch at Moonrise in New Benton was beyond him. But then, the things he didn’t understand about his older brother were too many to count.
Dell folded the awning and was tying it together when a pair of greenish cowboy boots stepped into his vision. He looked up, quirked an eyebrow at Mia.
“Wainwright.” She was almost a foot shorter than he, so she had to tilt her head back when he stood to his full height.
He nodded, tipped the brim of his ball cap. “Pruitt.” Maybe he should have worn a Stetson hat. This felt more like high noon than a friendly greeting.
“Still lowering yourself to stripping for attention?” She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought maybe you’d grown up a bit since last year.”
She had a dusting of light brown freckles across her nose. Kind of weird to notice it now, but then again he’d never spent much time looking at Mia. The girl who’d been the champion of awkward moments in high school, then come back from college quiet and unassuming. Of course, she’d never gotten up in his face and accused him of stripping before.
Dell grinned. That meant she thought he was a threat to her tidy little business. He primed up the charm and the drawl. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure there’ll be enough customers to go around. Not everyone is swayed by good looks and charm. Just most people.”
She didn’t cower. She didn’t walk away. She didn’t even dissolve into the Queen of the Geeks she’d been in high school. No, Mia Pruitt grinned at him—which had to be a first, even if she’d grown out of most of her awkwardness since she’d come back from college.
“Oh, I’m not worried. But you should be,” she said. Then she sauntered away with enough confidence that Dell stared after her.
“Whoa.” The saunter. The grin. Even with all her recent changes, he’d never seen that kind of...attitude from Mia before. Was it his imagination, or was it kind of hot?
Charlie slapped him on the back. “Told you not to cross her. Mia isn’t the girl hiding behind the pony at Kelsey’s birthday party anymore, if you hadn’t noticed.”
Dell stared after Mia’s swinging hips. Apparently he hadn’t noticed that at all.
CHAPTER TWO
MIAPULLEDHER truck into the parking lot at Orscheln and tried not to be irritated by all Dad’s sighing and grumbling. She drove too fast, braked too hard. The one and only place Dad ever criticized her.
Which was why, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why he didn’t drive himself. Or stay home.
“If you hate coming to town so much, you don’t have to come. I could always get whatever you need.”
“Have to ask Rick about this new vaccine.”
“You could do that on the phone. I bet Rick even has email.”
Dad harrumphed and got out of the truck. Mia trudged after him. Mostly, she loved spending time with Dad. He’d always been her biggest supporter, and one of the few people she felt understood her.
But going to Orscheln with Dad meant people didn’t get used to her as Mia Pruitt, serious farmer. They still saw the girl who had cried when all the chickens had been sold, or accidentally let all the kittens up for adoption out of their cage because she’d been trying to pet them.
Daughter of the town hermit, the man who refused to talk to anyone except Rick when he came in. Should another employee approach him, he’d turn and walk away. If Rick was out sick, Dad would hop in his truck and go home.
Oh, who was she kidding? Even when she came in without Dad she was a Pruitt, and there was a lot of baggage that went with that.
But she could pretend when she was alone. Pretend she was your average twenty-six-year-old vegetable farmer. Or something.
“I’m going to...look at some plants. You go ahead inside.” It was an excuse, a pathetic one at that, but maybe if she could pretend they hadn’t walked in together...
Mia stared gloomily at some pansies as Dad grunted and went inside. She was being kind of a crap daughter, and that made her feel guilty. Especially having been on the receiving end of the “go ahead inside, I’ll wait out here” line more than once.
“Of all the gin joints in the world, she walked into mine.”
Mia closed her eyes. Apparently today was really going to make her feel as if she was sixteen again. She glanced over her shoulder at Dell. He had his beat-up Cardinals hat on, equally worn jeans and a black T-shirt that did unfair things to showcase the muscles of his arms.
If she was a cat, she’d hiss at him. Instead, she mustered her best fake smile. “You’re wearing a shirt. What a novelty.”
“No shirt, no shoes, no service.” He grinned, and she hated that some part of her reacted to that grin. A weird flopping deep in her stomach; a floaty giddiness around her chest.
Yes, she was sixteen and still an idiot. “You got the quote all wrong, by the way.”
“Huh?”
“It’s, ‘Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.’ If you’re going to quote something, it should at least be the right something.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Figures,” she muttered, turning her attention back to the plants. She had no use for flowers. She lived in an apartment in town, and even if she lived at the farm, she’d certainly plant something she could sell the produce of.
Dell did not seem to take the hint, still standing uncomfortably behind her. Uncomfortably because...well. He made her uncomfortable. Because he was a butt, that was why.
“Are you following me?” she asked, trying to sound bored. Succeeding, too, if she did say so herself.
“It’s a small town, sugar.”
She would not be irritated by the cocky way he drawled sugar. She would also not be...other things at the way his voice was all gravelly and sure of himself. Not hot. Not even cute.
“And yet, how many times have I run into you here before? I do these errands every Tuesday morning.”
“Well, if you see me again, then you’ll know I’m following you. For today, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence.”
Unfortunate. Yeah. She certainly got no secret thrill out of seeing him outside the market. Please. She hoped to never see him outside the market. She didn’t even want to see him at the market.
“But while we’re here, together, on this beautiful day, why don’t you tell me what you’ve got up your sleeve so you don’t embarrass yourself at the market Saturday?”
She glanced at him again, giving him a condescending look she’d been practicing in the mirror. “First of all, we’re not together.”
“I’m standing here. You’re standing there right in touching distance. We’re talking. Together enough from where I’m at.”
“Why don’t you stand out of touching distance?” Because words like touching made her even more uncomfortable than she already was. How could she pretend to be calm and collected when she had to think about...touching?
She had the petty desire to give him a little push, but that would be silly and childish...and probably put her in contact with muscles she’d prefer to only fantasize about.
Except, no fantasizing.
“I don’t know why you have reason to be so antagonistic with me, Mia. Fair competition and all that. Jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.”
She rolled her eyes. “The day I worry about being attractive to you is the day I go brain-dead.” Jitters multiplied in her stomach. This was getting...weird. “Besides, if it’s fair competition, you don’t need to worry about what I’ve got up my sleeve.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you. You’ve built quite a new rep for yourself.”
She was not a violent person, but something about him made her visualize doing a lot of it. Unfortunately that also meant visualizing touching him. In a way that wasn’t all...violent. “The day Dell Wainwright is looking out for my well-being is the day I start taking my shirt off at the market.”
His eyes drifted to her chest, an almost considering look on his face. She crossed her arms over herself, the heat of embarrassment mixing with a different kind of heat.
“Go away, Dell. I am trying to do actual work here. I’m guessing you wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
There was a beat of silence, a moment of triumph that she’d shut him up, and then a twist of...something not so nice in her stomach.
“Naw, I just sit around my farm twiddling my thumbs.” He stepped away from her, a weird energy in the tense shoulders and the hard line of his mouth. “See you ’round, Pruitt.”
Mia frowned after him. She had no idea why she felt...kind of guilty and like a jerk. She hadn’t said anything too terrible to him, certainly not any worse than him calling her Queen of the Geeks.
So the weird twist in her stomach was out of place, and Dell was out of place for making her feel it. She was about to stomp into the store, but Dad’s voice sounded from behind her.
“That boy bothering you?”
Mia snorted, couldn’t help it. She turned to Dad, who’d obviously come out of the feed exit. It was nice Dad felt protective, but she did not need to be protected. Or comforted. Not anymore. “First of all, Dell Wainwright isn’t a boy any more than I’m a girl.”
Dad harrumphed.
“Second, I’m not... That stuff doesn’t bother me anymore.” Possibly because it wasn’t the same. Going toe-to-toe with Dell was less like being made fun of, being called names. It was more like battle. One she was more than equipped to fight.
It was weirdly invigorating. It made her feel capable and strong. If she could take on Mr. Prom King, she could take on anyone. If she could ignore the random bouts of misplaced guilt. Which she would.
She was going to take him on and win, and the more he poked at her, the more he’d find she didn’t roll over and hide anymore.
“Let’s go home.”
It was tempting. Tempting to put off what she’d come for so she wouldn’t have to run into Dell in the aisles, but not tempting enough to agree to.
“You can wait in the car if you want. But I have a few things that need picking up.” Because she was not a wimp. Not anymore.
* * *
DELLHEFTEDTHE tarps he needed onto the dolly, trying to ignore the fact he could see Mia at the end of the aisle doing the same.
He’d been kind of a dick, and it wasn’t his proudest moment, but she’d sure landed the knockout punch.
I’m guessing you wouldn’t know what that’s like.
As if farmwork could ever be anything but hard. As if he didn’t work his ass off every day trying to compete with her.
Her very fine ass.
Yeah, he didn’t want to be noticing things like that. So she wasn’t a social mess anymore? It didn’t mean he had any right or reason to be attracted to her. He didn’t have time to be distracted by stuff like that. Not with Dad breathing down his neck for profits. Proof that his ideas could stand the test of time.