Read Online Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2) by Roxanne St. Claire - Free Book Online
Authors: Roxanne St. Claire
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they acted like they did.”
“Like, he went to your teacher conferences instead of working?”
She laughed softly. “Even better. After the first year at Mimosa High, he yanked me out and homeschooled me because the teachers were all ‘from hunger,’ he used to say.”
“He educated you himself?”
She shrugged. “More or less. He certainly taught me how to milk goats and breed them, and how to make soap and cheese, and get a doe ready to give birth. But that’s not exactly what qualifies as an education in the state of Florida.”
Comfortable now, she tucked her legs under her and shimmied back to look at him. That was no hardship. His dark gaze was right on her, every word hitting his heart, she could tell.
“And that was a problem,” she added. “Enough of a problem that my Aunt Jenny swooped down from New York, went to war with the courts, and got me to go live with her in Roslyn Heights, Long Island, also known as living hell for me.”
Which was actually the understatement of all time. “My cousins were entitled, obnoxious, partying bitches, and my aunt and uncle were as money-obsessed as my parents. I don’t know how I survived there, but I did.”
“Then you came back here?” he guessed.
“I went to Florida State and got a degree in animal science and, of course, I stayed with Nonno on every break and in the summer. The more I learned, the more I had ideas for this place. It has so much potential to be a real money-making operation if he had only brought it into the twenty-first century. But Nonno didn’t like…the twenty-first century. He had a rotary phone here until the day he died.”
“So that’s what you want to do now? Make it a twenty-first-century goat farm?”
“No.” She pulled her legs up again, wrapping her arms around her jeans, not liking this part of her story any more than the part about her parents. “I made him a promise that I wouldn’t and, honestly, I lost interest in high-tech farming.”
“Why?”
“After college I…we…” She closed her eyes against the tears that welled. “We had a bad fight about modernizing this place. I’m telling you, there is no creature on earth as pigheaded and close-minded and obstinate as an old Italian man. I wanted to expand and install a whole milking and dairy system, and he just wanted to make soap and cheese and maybe have a little petting farm and retail storefront when he rebuilt the house. I was on fire with youth and ambition, and he was mellow with age and the simple joys in life. We fought pretty badly.” She managed a wry smile. “I may have inherited that stubborn streak.”
“Ya think?” Laughing softly, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face, the gesture so intimate it sent an unwanted rush through her, but also encouraging, so she kept talking.
“Anyway, after our big argument, I went to DC and got a really important job at the Department of Agriculture and Nonno…” Her voice hitched, and he reached for her hand, swallowing it in his much more sizable ones. “He had a stroke.”
“And you weren’t here.”
She looked at him, touched for some reason that he would understand just how horrible that was. “No, I wasn’t. And if I had been…”
“He still would have had a stroke.”
She shook her head vehemently. “But I might have gotten him to the hospital sooner or maybe I would have seen an early symptom.” Guilt wracked her voice and pinched her heart. “But I was in Washington…and…” She swallowed but forced herself to make the admission. “I was no better than my parents in being somewhere other than where I should have been, chasing success and big dreams and—”
“Big dreams? In the Department of Agriculture?” He couldn’t hide the incredulity in his voice.
“I was on a fast track to a directorship,” she countered. “But that’s all over now, thankfully.”
“Because you promised him you’d run the farm the way he wanted you to?”
“I
“Like, he went to your teacher conferences instead of working?”
She laughed softly. “Even better. After the first year at Mimosa High, he yanked me out and homeschooled me because the teachers were all ‘from hunger,’ he used to say.”
“He educated you himself?”
She shrugged. “More or less. He certainly taught me how to milk goats and breed them, and how to make soap and cheese, and get a doe ready to give birth. But that’s not exactly what qualifies as an education in the state of Florida.”
Comfortable now, she tucked her legs under her and shimmied back to look at him. That was no hardship. His dark gaze was right on her, every word hitting his heart, she could tell.
“And that was a problem,” she added. “Enough of a problem that my Aunt Jenny swooped down from New York, went to war with the courts, and got me to go live with her in Roslyn Heights, Long Island, also known as living hell for me.”
Which was actually the understatement of all time. “My cousins were entitled, obnoxious, partying bitches, and my aunt and uncle were as money-obsessed as my parents. I don’t know how I survived there, but I did.”
“Then you came back here?” he guessed.
“I went to Florida State and got a degree in animal science and, of course, I stayed with Nonno on every break and in the summer. The more I learned, the more I had ideas for this place. It has so much potential to be a real money-making operation if he had only brought it into the twenty-first century. But Nonno didn’t like…the twenty-first century. He had a rotary phone here until the day he died.”
“So that’s what you want to do now? Make it a twenty-first-century goat farm?”
“No.” She pulled her legs up again, wrapping her arms around her jeans, not liking this part of her story any more than the part about her parents. “I made him a promise that I wouldn’t and, honestly, I lost interest in high-tech farming.”
“Why?”
“After college I…we…” She closed her eyes against the tears that welled. “We had a bad fight about modernizing this place. I’m telling you, there is no creature on earth as pigheaded and close-minded and obstinate as an old Italian man. I wanted to expand and install a whole milking and dairy system, and he just wanted to make soap and cheese and maybe have a little petting farm and retail storefront when he rebuilt the house. I was on fire with youth and ambition, and he was mellow with age and the simple joys in life. We fought pretty badly.” She managed a wry smile. “I may have inherited that stubborn streak.”
“Ya think?” Laughing softly, he brushed a strand of her hair off her face, the gesture so intimate it sent an unwanted rush through her, but also encouraging, so she kept talking.
“Anyway, after our big argument, I went to DC and got a really important job at the Department of Agriculture and Nonno…” Her voice hitched, and he reached for her hand, swallowing it in his much more sizable ones. “He had a stroke.”
“And you weren’t here.”
She looked at him, touched for some reason that he would understand just how horrible that was. “No, I wasn’t. And if I had been…”
“He still would have had a stroke.”
She shook her head vehemently. “But I might have gotten him to the hospital sooner or maybe I would have seen an early symptom.” Guilt wracked her voice and pinched her heart. “But I was in Washington…and…” She swallowed but forced herself to make the admission. “I was no better than my parents in being somewhere other than where I should have been, chasing success and big dreams and—”
“Big dreams? In the Department of Agriculture?” He couldn’t hide the incredulity in his voice.
“I was on a fast track to a directorship,” she countered. “But that’s all over now, thankfully.”
“Because you promised him you’d run the farm the way he wanted you to?”
“I
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