Free Meet Me at the Chapel by Joanna Sims Page A

down next to her. He handed her a bottle of water after he had wiped the condensation off.
    â€œThank you.”
    He dug around in the cooler and pulled out a piece of fruit. “Peach?”
    She loved peaches. “Thank you again.”
    Brock also offered her one of his two sandwiches, but she was happy with her peach. She bit into it and juices from the peach dripped down her chin.
    â€œMmm. This peach is incredible!”
    He glanced at her while he was taking a large bite of his sandwich. “Here...” He reached into his cooler and pulled out a couple of paper towels.
    She smiled at him and wiped off her chin. Casey didn’t try to make conversation until she had eaten the peach all the way down to the center seed.
    â€œThat was a delicious peach.”
    â€œGood.”
    That was all that was said between them for a while—they enjoyed the breeze and the sunshine and the quiet together.
    â€œWhat were you listening to?”
    Brock cleaned off his hands, tossed his trash into the cooler, then held out one of his earbuds for her to put up to her ear. She listened, her brain sorting through her memories to put a name with the sound.
    After a second or two, she looked up at him, surprised. “Beethoven?”
    â€œBach.”
    In the short time she had spent with him, this man had already surprised her a couple of times. He was burly and masculine and the antithesis of a metrosexual, and yet, he seemed to have... depth .
    â€œI’ll show you the best way to enjoy it,” he told her. “Lie on your back.”
    If it had been anyone but Brock, she would have thought this was a ploy to get her in a compromising position—but Brock was straightforward. If he wanted her in a compromising position, most likely he’d come right out and say it.
    She lay flat on her back in the grass, both earbuds in her ears.
    â€œNow, close your eyes and let the music take you on a ride,” Brock said with an enthusiastic smile. She could tell that he felt as if he was sharing a very exciting secret with her.
    â€œI’m not a big fan of classical music,” she warned him.
    â€œDon’t focus on that,” he instructed. “Just close your eyes, try to turn off your thoughts and listen.”
    Casey’s eyebrows rose as she gave a little shrug and then closed her eyes. Eyes closed, cool breeze brushing over her arms and face, and the music in her ears—it was...
    She opened her eyes and saw Brock watching her expectantly.
    â€œWell?”
    She pulled the earbuds out of her ears and handed them back to him. “I liked it.”
    Brock pulled the cord out of his phone. “There’s no reason why we can’t both enjoy it.”
    It wasn’t her nature to take afternoon naps and she usually ate lunch on the go at work. But she needed to force herself to slow down. She was on her first true vacation in years, after all. So, side by side in the grass, not close enough to touch, but close enough to enjoy the lilting strains of music, Brock and Casey spent the rest of the foreman’s lunch break quietly together.
    * * *
    By the end of her first month in Montana, Casey had settled into life on Brock’s ranch as if she had been born to it. She had put her own homey touches on the loft and now it felt like her own cozy cocoon. Of course, during the heat of the day, some of the less pleasant smells from the barn did waft upward and it could be rather pungent. But it wasn’t anything that an open window couldn’t fix. Casey had struck a deal with Brock to rotate the cooking and pay a fourth of the food cost, in light of the fact that Brock ate enough to be counted as two people. The loft didn’t have Wi-Fi, so whenever she needed to use the internet, she took her computer to the main house. Brock always left the front door open for her, which allowed her to come and go as she pleased. The idea of an unlocked door, coming from Chicago, took some