can be serious. And this is one of those times.” Should he take her in his arms and show her he could be serious about two things at once? Maybe better not.
Her gaze around the orchard seemed more speculative.
He held his breath.
“Okay. Any thoughts on what will keep my students’ attention here for a couple of hours?”
Corbin dared to breathe. “I was thinking... I have an old cider press. Think the kids might like to make apple juice? They could each take a liter bottle home.”
“Really?” Sarah turned to him with a smile. “That sounds like the ticket. Now we just need to pick a date.”
He’d picked one already. Her.
Chapter 8
Sarah followed Corbin into his farmhouse, a classic style with dormer windows above the front porch. The kitchen floor was covered with ancient pitted linoleum and the cupboards looked to have been made with plywood, but renovators paid good money for salvaged sinks like the one under the six-paned window.
He stood in the middle of the space, hands fisted at his sides, staring past her. Nervous. Vulnerable.
“Wow, Corbin, you have so much potential here.”
His eyes latched onto hers like a drowning man might grab a life ring. “You think?” A lilt of hope.
“So much character. Such good bones.”
“I haven’t had time to do much inside yet. I’ve been focused on getting the farm to pay for itself. I thought I might start on the house over the winter, but I’m not even sure where to begin.”
Sarah had watched enough HGTV to have an answer for that. “Is the foundation solid?”
That cut off his words. He closed the few steps between them then reached for both her hands. “I don’t know. Is it?”
Her breath hitched. He wasn’t talking about the house anymore. She clutched his fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I know it’s much too early for that.”
No kidding. Sarah swallowed hard.
“But, well, this is what you’re up against.” He disengaged his hands and looped them loosely around her waist. “Do you want to keep moving forward and see where we end up? Or do you want to run while the running’s good? Farm life isn’t for everyone.”
Someone must have hurt him. Who would have guessed his bravado masked such insecurity? She slid her hands up his chest and felt his muscles tighten before she cupped his face between both hands. “I haven’t seen any reason to run yet,” she whispered.
His eyes asked permission as he gathered her more tightly in his arms then tugged her against himself. “Sarah...”
She tipped her face to his and closed her eyes as his lips caressed hers, softly at first then with more intensity. How long had she been waiting for this? Possibly her entire life.
* * *
Corbin cradled Sarah against his chest and deepened the kiss. Thrill at her acceptance — no, her matching desire — shivered through him. This moment would change his life forever. He knew it clear down to his toenails.
Sarah. She’s the one.
It would be easy, so unbelievably easy, to forget everything but her in this moment. He lived far from the road, far from town. There was zero chance in the world anyone would come in his driveway and discover them here.
But, no. That wasn’t the next course to lay on the foundation they’d built thus far. He managed to remove his mouth from hers and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder with a groan. “Oh, Sarah.”
She held him tightly as their breathing slowed in unison. “Corbin, I—”
He feathered his lips down her throat. “Yes, fair lady?”
“I want you to kiss me again.”
“Gladly.” But he’d keep better control this time. He tasted her mouth and sealed it possessively with a kiss then took a step back, catching her hands in his.
Sarah’s eyes blinked open, looking a little dazed.
He probably looked the same. He trailed his fingers through her hair to smooth the muss he’d made, and she leaned into his touch. “Sarah, I love you.” Had he
Her gaze around the orchard seemed more speculative.
He held his breath.
“Okay. Any thoughts on what will keep my students’ attention here for a couple of hours?”
Corbin dared to breathe. “I was thinking... I have an old cider press. Think the kids might like to make apple juice? They could each take a liter bottle home.”
“Really?” Sarah turned to him with a smile. “That sounds like the ticket. Now we just need to pick a date.”
He’d picked one already. Her.
Chapter 8
Sarah followed Corbin into his farmhouse, a classic style with dormer windows above the front porch. The kitchen floor was covered with ancient pitted linoleum and the cupboards looked to have been made with plywood, but renovators paid good money for salvaged sinks like the one under the six-paned window.
He stood in the middle of the space, hands fisted at his sides, staring past her. Nervous. Vulnerable.
“Wow, Corbin, you have so much potential here.”
His eyes latched onto hers like a drowning man might grab a life ring. “You think?” A lilt of hope.
“So much character. Such good bones.”
“I haven’t had time to do much inside yet. I’ve been focused on getting the farm to pay for itself. I thought I might start on the house over the winter, but I’m not even sure where to begin.”
Sarah had watched enough HGTV to have an answer for that. “Is the foundation solid?”
That cut off his words. He closed the few steps between them then reached for both her hands. “I don’t know. Is it?”
Her breath hitched. He wasn’t talking about the house anymore. She clutched his fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I know it’s much too early for that.”
No kidding. Sarah swallowed hard.
“But, well, this is what you’re up against.” He disengaged his hands and looped them loosely around her waist. “Do you want to keep moving forward and see where we end up? Or do you want to run while the running’s good? Farm life isn’t for everyone.”
Someone must have hurt him. Who would have guessed his bravado masked such insecurity? She slid her hands up his chest and felt his muscles tighten before she cupped his face between both hands. “I haven’t seen any reason to run yet,” she whispered.
His eyes asked permission as he gathered her more tightly in his arms then tugged her against himself. “Sarah...”
She tipped her face to his and closed her eyes as his lips caressed hers, softly at first then with more intensity. How long had she been waiting for this? Possibly her entire life.
* * *
Corbin cradled Sarah against his chest and deepened the kiss. Thrill at her acceptance — no, her matching desire — shivered through him. This moment would change his life forever. He knew it clear down to his toenails.
Sarah. She’s the one.
It would be easy, so unbelievably easy, to forget everything but her in this moment. He lived far from the road, far from town. There was zero chance in the world anyone would come in his driveway and discover them here.
But, no. That wasn’t the next course to lay on the foundation they’d built thus far. He managed to remove his mouth from hers and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder with a groan. “Oh, Sarah.”
She held him tightly as their breathing slowed in unison. “Corbin, I—”
He feathered his lips down her throat. “Yes, fair lady?”
“I want you to kiss me again.”
“Gladly.” But he’d keep better control this time. He tasted her mouth and sealed it possessively with a kiss then took a step back, catching her hands in his.
Sarah’s eyes blinked open, looking a little dazed.
He probably looked the same. He trailed his fingers through her hair to smooth the muss he’d made, and she leaned into his touch. “Sarah, I love you.” Had he
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