The man's hazel eyes flicked from Patrick to Joanne, lingering on her just a fraction longer than necessary. There was an intensity in his gaze that made her shoulders stiffen and her grip on Fluffy's collar tighten instinctively.
Pretty eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, unbidden.
"I'm looking for Joe McDonald of McDonald Farm," the man repeated, his gravelly voice worn like the soles of his scuffed sneakers. "He around?"
Patrick scratched his head, shooting Joanne a quick glance. He caught the faint curiosity flickering in her expression, though she stayed silent. "Jane sent you?" Patrick asked, breaking the moment.
"Ah, yes! Mr. McDonald, is it?" The man's face lit up as he walked toward Patrick with an outstretched hand. Despite his scruffy appearance—wrinkled clothes and a shadow of stubble—there was a charm about him that even his dishevelment couldn't completely hide.
Joanne rose, nodding slightly in Patrick's direction. It didn't escape her notice that the man had automatically assumed Patrick was "Joe McDonald." Not the smartest conclusion, but it was enough to pique her interest. As she headed out of the barn, she discreetly held up three fingers to signal Patrick: $3000 for summer.
"I'm Jeffrey," the man added, his grin easy and self-assured.
Joanne froze mid-step at the barn door. Jeffrey. Her stomach twisted. Of all the names in the world.
Patrick noticed her subtle reaction—her spine stiffened and her jaw tightened. Initially, he thought Joanne's resistance might be because the visitor was a man, but she didn't seem to mind having a male paying guest. However, her distaste for the name Jeffrey was apparent.
Unaware of the silent storm brewing behind him, the man continued, flashing another disarming smile. "Jeffrey Daniels. Most people just call me JD."
Patrick's sharp eyes darted between the two. Joanne's expression had flattened into indifference, the kind that only came out when she was trying very hard to mask her feelings. Patrick, who prided himself on being as perceptive as a tick on a warm cow, suspected she'd already dismissed JD entirely. But in his heart, he couldn't help but hope otherwise.
She's 27, living alone like a nun in this big house. She needs someone her age around. The thought of her finding a summer romance—and maybe, just maybe, a happily-ever-after—danced in Patrick's mind. Old Sean would have wanted his granddaughter to fill this house with love and laughter again.
But that damned name. Jeffrey. The very name she despised. So much so, she'd saddled the most troublesome, psychopathic horse on the farm with it, just so she'd have an excuse to hurl curses at the name without restraint.
"Are you here for work?" Patrick asked, trying to gauge the man further.
JD chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Not exactly. I'm on a... self-discovery journey, I guess. Traveling across the country, seeing where life takes me. I just need a place to stay for the summer, something quiet and peaceful."
"A hobo?" Patrick muttered under his breath, unimpressed now. Is this guy even worthy of being Jo's fling? he wondered.
JD must have sensed the shift in Patrick's demeanor, because he quickly added, "I'm actually thinking of settling down somewhere nearby. This place—it has a great vibe. Rolling hills, green pastures, the cattle—it's beautiful. I've got an interview with Shamrock Logistics tomorrow. If it works out, I might stick around, maybe even rent a house in Rockchapel."
Patrick's face brightened at the mention of a job. "Oh! Well, then. $6000 for the summer. Three hot meals a day, electricity, internet, hot water—everything included."
"$6000?" JD balked, looking shell-shocked.
Behind him, Joanne's reaction was even more pronounced. Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head vehemently. No way. There was no chance she was living with a man named Jeffrey. She could already sense Patrick's meddling, his not-so-subtle attempts to thrust her into some kind of romantic scenario.
As if I could ever find a man named Jeffrey attractive! she thought, exasperated.
Patrick, undeterred, ignored her signals entirely, his tone growing almost cheerful as he haggled with JD.
Joanne threw up her hands and walked back inside, muttering to herself. Let them finalize whatever deal they want. There's no way I'm letting this Jeffrey—JD, whatever—to ruin my summer.
She snapped the screen door shut and strode into the kitchen. Despite her efforts to dismiss him, the image of hazel eyes and a casual smile lingered in her mind, like a burr caught in fabric. It was frustrating how charming he was, even with his disheveled look—and his cursed name.
What's the worst that could happen? she thought, leaning against the counter and staring at the coffee pot as if it might hold the answer.
If he misbehaved, she'd deal with him. She could always make him eat lead and bury him beneath one of the sprawling oaks out back. Those old trees could use the fertilizer, she mused darkly. Or maybe she'd let the dogs handle him. Her guard dogs had a talent for finding bones, after all.
Her lips twitched at the thought. She had options, plenty of them.
Still, her mind circled back to his words, the way he'd spoken about wanting to settle down, about the peace and beauty of the land. There'd been a sincerity to him, even if she didn't trust it just yet.
Hazel eyes and charm don't mean he's not trouble, she reminded herself.
Her gaze drifted toward the window, where she could just make out Patrick and JD in the distance, deep in conversation. Patrick's animated gestures hinted he was sealing the deal. Joanne huffed, rolling her eyes. Meddling old goat.
Joanne straightened her posture, donning a practiced, professional smile as Patrick led JD inside. Her eyes briefly scanned JD—hazel eyes, scruffy but charming, and a faint blush dusting his cheeks.
"Meet your landlady, Jo Smith," Patrick announced with a sly grin.
JD's face flushed deeper as he stepped forward. "I'm sorry, I assumed he was Joe and you were his daughter…" He offered a sheepish smile, extending his hand. "Hello, Ms. Josephine Smith. I'm JD, your tenant for the summer."
Patrick chuckled, amused by the blunder. "She's Jo—"
"Welcome, Mr. Daniels," Joanne interrupted smoothly, ignoring both the blush and the error in her name. Formalities didn't matter. What mattered was the payment, and she wasn't about to get sentimental over a title or an awkward first impression.
Patrick held up five fingers behind JD's back, and Joanne's brows lifted subtly in surprise. Five thousand? Two thousand more than she'd planned to charge. That was a win in her book.
Her lips curved into a faintly satisfied smile as she met JD's gaze. "I'll show you to your room. I'll prepare the papers by tomorrow," she said, brushing past Patrick's knowing look.
So what if his name was Jeffrey? For five grand, she could live with another useless Jeffrey in her house.
"Wait!" JD called out.
Joanne stopped mid-step, gripping the frayed edges of her patience as she slowly turned. "Yes?"
JD's grin was disarming, but it was the object in his hand that caught her off guard. "For the pretty lady," he said, extending his arm toward her.
Her eyes widened, flicking between his face and the thing he held.