Ours to Love Read online

  Ours to Love

  Jayda Marx

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for your interest in my book! My stories tend to be low angst because it hurts my heart; I like getting to the good stuff and live for fluff. If “instalove” isn’t your thing, my books may not be for you. I want my readers to finish my books with a smile on their face and a fierce case of the warm and fuzzies. Laughter is guaranteed, and each read delivers its own type of drama. Thanks again for taking a look and happy reading!

  Chapter One

  Logan

  “Wanna slow down, there?” I asked my brother, who just gulped down half a bottle of beer in one go.

  “What? I’m celebrating.”

  We both were; we’d worked our asses off the past couple of weeks. We owned and ran a ten-acre cherry and apple orchard and it was mid-September, the beginning of our apple harvest time. We’d picked, sorted, packaged and sold hundreds of bushels of apples already, with countless more to go. But we’d reached a lull in between the harvesting of different apple varieties. Our golden delicious crops wouldn’t be ripe for a couple of weeks, so we were enjoying the down time.

  “Well, don’t celebrate too hard. I can’t carry your big ass out of here.”

  “Come on Logan, you know it takes more than a few of these bad boys to knock me on my big ass.” It was true; Will was built like a tank from years of hard labor and had a high alcohol tolerance. I was no lightweight myself at six-foot one and 190 pounds of sleek muscle, but Will still had a few inches and about 40 pounds on me. Even though we did the same type of physical work and ate identical meals since we lived together in a farmhouse on the orchard, Will somehow seemed to grow broader and buffer every day. The bastard.

  “Still, some coherent conversation would be nice, so don’t get too drunk to where I’ll have to talk to myself.”

  Will gave me a smirk before downing the rest of his beer. I rolled my eyes before surveying the restaurant around us while nursing my own drink. It was a little bar and grill Will and I liked to frequent. It fit right into its coastal Michigan location with its lighthouse décor. The aged wood booths gave the place a casual and intimate feel, and a large bar ran the length of the back wall and offered anything and everything you could want.

  I continued to study the place absent-mindedly until my eyes fell on a man – an absolutely gorgeous man - entering the restaurant and following the hostess to a booth. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him; he looked to be in his early twenties and had white-blond hair that was cut short on the sides but longer on top, where it fell in a soft swoop against his forehead. He was a little on the short side and a lot on the slim side. He was probably even skinnier than he looked, considering he was wearing an oversized sweatshirt.

  “Logan? Logan!” Will snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and I was finally able to look away from the enchanting man and toward my brother. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. What in the world are you staring at?”

  “Him,” I whispered, nodding in the direction of the gorgeous blond.

  “Him who? I wanna see.” He turned completely around in his seat and began looking around in the most non-discreet way possible. “I don’t see…oh wow.” I knew without a doubt he’d found who I was drooling over.

  “Right? But turn around! Damn, you look like a stalker like that.”

  “Well then scoot over so I can come around to your side and stalk easier.” I did as he asked, and Will took a seat next to me on my side of the booth. “Good lord, he’s gorgeous.” Will and I had always had similar tastes in men, although this particular man was undoubtedly beautiful no matter what a person’s type was. “Wonder why he’s alone? He should have people falling all over themselves to get to him.”

  “Maybe he’s waiting on someone,” I shrugged. “He does look kind of nervous.” The man was biting his lower lip in the most distractingly delicious way while his wide eyes roamed the room. He repeatedly reached up and ran his fingers through the soft, silky strands of his light hair.

  “I wonder if it’s a first date,” Will mused. We both loved people watching and trying to figure out what others were up to.

  “Could be. Do you think he’s waiting on a man or a woman?”

  “Hell, he could have either.”

  “True. Oh, look! Someone’s coming over.”

  Will leaned closer to me and we watched a man literally strut across the room, approaching cutie’s table. I was almost choking on his sense of self-importance clear across the restaurant. The man had on a top of the line suit and so much product in his hair it appeared greasy. Like, you could squeegee it out and fry a whole damn chicken greasy. Cutie got out of the booth to shake greaseball’s hand with a dazzling smile. When greasy turned around to take his seat, he was rolling his eyes.

  “How could he not be impressed such a good-looking man?” I asked seriously.

  “Come on,” Will said as he was dragging me out of the booth.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re gonna go sit at the bar so we can eavesdrop.”

  “Ooh, good idea.” We took two stools at the bar adjacent to cutie’s booth. Our backs were to him, but we could still hear every word spoken.

  “You look really nice tonight,” a sweet voice that could only belong to the cute blond offered.

  “And I’m so glad you put effort into our first date,” greaseball snapped back sarcastically.

  “I’m sorry, I thought this would be okay since we were meeting somewhere casual.”

  Don’t you dare apologize to that asshole for being adorable! A huff from Will told me he was thinking along the same lines as I was.

  “Casual is one thing, but maybe you could’ve worn something that actually fit.”

  What. A. Douche.

  “Oh, I wear these a lot,” the sweet voice replied. “I buy them big so I can wear layers under them, and they’ll still be comfy. I tend to stay really cold because I have this condition that…you know what, it’s not important.”

  I could only imagine the irritated face cutie was getting from ol’ greasy.

  “Yes, let’s not go over medical histories. This is supposed to be a date, not a doctor’s appointment,” greaseball answered in an exasperated tone.

  “I’m sorry, I’m nervous. I guess I’m not exactly sure what to say on a first date.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Clearly this guy is looking for a throat punch,” Will growled beside me. Usually, I thought my brother was a little too aggressive, but I totally agreed with him this time around.

  “So,” cutie pie continued, “Your profile said you were an accountant.”

  “Indeed. I work for the most prestigious firm in the state, Clasky and Schmidt. I assume you’ve heard of them?”

  “Hmm, I think I remember hearing a commercial for them on the radio around tax time.”

  “Accountants do much more than taxes; surely you realize that, right?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know much about accounting. I’d be interested to hear about what you do, though.”

  “Well, the most important thing for you to know is that I’ve done quite well for myself.”

  “Wow, good for you.”

  “Too bad all that money couldn’t buy him some manners,” I whispered to Will, who snorted in agreement.

  “Now,” greaseball said, “Your profile just said you were a manager. What type of business are you in?”

  “Oh, I’m the day manager at the Shell station over on Grandview.”

  Slimeball let out a long sigh. “A gas station; things are starting to make sense. You know, you really should’ve put more information on your profile besides manager. That word speaks of importance. If I’d known you worked at a gas station, I never would have agreed
to this sorry excuse for a date.”

  “That’s enough,” Will barked beside me as he stood from his stool.

  “Right behind you.” We reached the side of the booth just as greaseball was trying to climb out. Will was the first to speak.

  “Did you get your head that far up your ass by yourself or did you need help?”

  A surprised laugh bubbled out of cutie before he slapped a hand over his mouth.

  Greasy gasped. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”

  “You mean besides a pompous blowhard who unfoundedly thinks he’s god’s gift to everyone?” I quipped.

  “And just who the hell do you think you are?” greasy shot back.

  “The guys telling you it’s time to go.” Will gave him a death glare as he folded his thick arms across his chest.

  “No need. I was already leaving. This nobody has already wasted enough of my time.”

  Will slapped a hand on the table and bent so he was right in front of the man’s face. “Shut your mouth or it’ll need wired shut.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Yes,” Will answered simply.

  Greasy shoved on Will’s arm, and I know for a fact Will only moved because he wanted to. There was no way the man could have actually pushed my brother out of the way. The man ran a hand down his suit after standing. “You’ll regret speaking to me like that.”

  “Doubt it,” Will shrugged, “I do my own taxes.” He slid into the booth across from cutie and I sat down next to my brother. The man sputtered and stuttered but didn’t walk away.

  “That’s your cue to leave,” I said with a big smile on my face and a little wave. Finally, he stomped to the front door, which he shoved open.

  “Thank you for that,” cutie said softly before sighing. “I haven’t ordered yet, I guess I’ll go too.”

  “Sit with us for a few minutes,” I suggested. “Let’s give him time to leave so he can’t bother you outside.” I was pulling a reason right out of my asshole. Honestly, I just wanted to stay and talk to the man and maybe cheer him up.

  “Good point,” he said with a nod. “I’m in no hurry to speak to him again. All he wanted to talk about was…” his eyes narrowed as they landed on Will. “Hey, wait a minute; how did you know about him doing taxes?”

  “We were eavesdropping,” he answered bluntly.

  “Wow, that’s…honest,” cutie replied with wide eyes. Eyes that, now that I was closer to him, I could see were a pretty shade of blue gray, like well-worn denim.

  My brilliant brother didn’t know when to shut up. “Well, it started out as stalking.”

  “Um…” cutie looked toward the exit, obviously weighing his options of running into the greasy blowhard or staying with admitted stalkers.

  “What my brother is trying to say is that we saw you sitting here and were talking about how cute you were. Then we saw Asshat McTaxface come over and we immediately got a bad vibe from him. We listened in to make sure he didn’t give you any trouble. I’m sorry we invaded your privacy, but also, I’m glad we did. You didn’t deserve the things that jackass was saying.”

  “Oh.” The tension melted from cutie’s shoulders. “So, wait, you guys think I’m cute?”

  “Adorable,” Will answered with a wink.

  “Huh.” Cutie’s lips curled into a flirty smile. “Is it wrong I kind of like this? I’ve never had a stalker before, let alone two.” Will and I both laughed, and cutie’s smile grew wider. “I’m Ryan, by the way; Ryan Cook.”

  “I’m Logan Shaw and this is my brother William, but he goes by Will.”

  “Nice to meet you both. Brothers, huh? You know, at first I didn’t see the family resemblance, but it’s in your eyes.”

  In addition to the differences in our body types, Will and I didn’t have much in common appearance wise. He had dark brown hair that looked almost black which hung to a few inches below his shoulders, and he had a thick but closely trimmed beard. My hair was several shades lighter brown and cut in a pompadour. I also had facial hair, but it would be considered more scruff than beard. We did, however, share the same brown eyes.

  “Yeah, our turd brown eyes,” Will said with a laugh.

  Ryan snorted but shook his head. “No way. People seriously undersell brown eyes, but they’re my favorite. They’re dark and mysterious, and you can’t help but be drawn into their depths. And you two have the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen; they have little gold flecks in them that reflect the light. It’s like jewels buried in the earth.”

  Well, I’ll be damned. Nobody had ever called anything about me “pretty” before. What made the whole thing better was that Ryan wasn’t complimenting Will and I to be flirty or forward, he was simply saying what he thought, and that made it mean even more to me.

  “Sorry, darlin’,” a short, middle-aged waitress said to Ryan as she approached the booth. “It’s been busy, and I haven’t gotten around to you yet. Hey, weren’t you two back there?” she asked, looking at Will and me, and pointing to the booth where we were previously sitting.

  “We moved,” Will said with a shrug.

  “Can’t say I blame ya,” the lady said with a brow bounce. Ryan craned his neck to look at the booth in the back of the room, like there was something wrong with it and our reason for moving wasn’t to come track down the most handsome man either of us had ever seen. “So, what can I get you three to drink?” Will and I both asked for another Bud Light; he’d drained his and I’d left my half-full bottle on the bar earlier. Ryan ordered a Dr. Pepper and the waitress walked away.

  “Dr. Pepper, huh?” Will asked with a curious look on his face.

  “What? That drink is my weakness. I don’t like any other kind of soda, but I can’t get enough of that stuff.”

  “I’ve never tried it,” I admitted.

  “What?” Ryan asked, looking aghast. “How have you never even tried it?”

  “Neither have I,” Will added. “We grew up in a Pepsi household.”

  “I’m sorry you endured such abuse as children,” Ryan teased, making us all chuckle. “Well, you’re both trying mine when it comes out and I bet you’ll want one for yourself.”

  “Deal,” I smiled. “Okay, so we’ve already admitted to eavesdropping, so I’m just gonna jump right in, here. That douchewad scoffed at your management job, but I’ve gotta say I’m impressed.”

  “Me too,” Will butted in. “Especially since you’re only, what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-one,” Ryan shrugged. “But it’s not as impressive as it sounds, trust me. I’ve worked at the gas station for the past two years, not too long after I graduated high school. Honestly, I was the only person who showed up to work on time and stayed around long enough to get promoted.”

  I didn’t buy what he was saying; he had to have shown a good work ethic and leadership skills to be promoted. I didn’t know if he was still shaken by what greaseball had said, or if he didn’t have much self-esteem, but I hated how he downplayed his job.

  “And just so you know,” Ryan continued, “I wasn’t trying to lie to that guy earlier about what I did. I filled out that stupid dating profile a few weeks ago and just put my job title down where it asked. I didn’t think it would be that big of an issue.” He looked down at his lap and picked at his fingernails, looking embarrassed over the whole ordeal.

  “Don’t give that asshole another thought,” Will said. “Some people care more about status and money than people. He’ll die old and alone and clutching his wallet.”

  Ryan’s lips ticked up at the corners. “You’re kind of an intense guy, aren’t you, Will?”

  “You’re welcome,” Will answered with a smirk and Ryan giggled. It was a beautiful sound.

  “So, what do you guys do?”

  “We’re orchardists,” I answered.

  “Or,” Will cut in, “If you prefer, you can call us horticulturists extraordinaire.”

  Ryan pursed his lips and shook his head. “Actually
, I’m not sure I can.” Will and I both laughed at this adorable man.

  “Good, because that sounds ridiculous,” I said, elbowing my still-laughing brother. “Will and I own and run an orchard about 15 miles from here.”

  “That is so cool! What do you grow?”

  “We harvest Bing cherries in the summertime and apples in the fall. Winter is for pruning and planning.”

  “And it’s just you two who run the whole place?”

  “Sometimes we hire seasonal help if multiple crops ripen at once,” I explained, “But usually, yeah, it’s just us.”

  “Wow, that sounds like a lot of work. No wonder you two are so built.” Ryan’s eyes widened at his words and his cheeks quickly flushed. I pressed my lips together to stave off a smile, but Will didn’t even try. He looked almost predatory. “Um,” Ryan cleared his throat, “So…you two seem pretty young, too,” he said, changing the subject. “How did you end up with your own business?”

  “We’re not that young,” Will started, “I’m twenty-nine and Logan is twenty-seven, but we never expected to be running the place so soon. The orchard and the farmhouse sitting on the property has been in the family for decades. Our parents died in an accident several years ago and it only made sense for Logan and me to take control since we were their only children. Plus, we’ve been trained in the business since we were kids. It has taken some getting used to and figuring out, but we love it.” I nodded my agreement of his last statement.

  “I’m really sorry about your parents,” Ryan offered. He reached across the table with both hands and patted Will’s and my arm.

  “Thank you,” I said, touched by his concern and caring. “It was unexpected and difficult, but it was a long time ago.”

  Just then, the waitress appeared and passed out our drinks. “Are you fellas ready to order or do you need a minute?”

  “Oh!” Ryan looked at us and cringed. “I’m sorry, you guys were being so nice, running off that jerk and offering to sit with me a few minutes and I’ve been talking your ears off. You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.”