Chapter 3 First Collision

I didn't see Liam again for two days.

Which was fine by me.

I had more pressing things to think about than charming strangers with mystery eyes and suspicious timing. Like how I was going to make the next payment to the bank. Or how I was supposed to cover the vet bill for Missy, our only milk cow, who'd started limping again. Or how I was supposed to keep pretending everything was fine when it absolutely, one hundred percent, was not.

By Thursday morning, the anxiety had settled in my chest like a permanent tenant. I took it out on the weeds behind the shed, yanking them from the dry earth like they were responsible for everything going wrong. The sun was brutal, even for early morning, and sweat dripped down my back as I worked.

I didn't hear the truck pull up.

"Need a hand?"

The voice made me jump and drop my gardening fork. I turned sharply and found him standing a few feet away, holding a paper bag and two iced lemonades.

Liam.

Of course.

He looked cooler than I felt, which irritated me immediately. His sleeves were rolled up again, and his hair looked perfectly tousled like a magazine cover. He held out a drink like a peace offering.

"I was in town," he said. "Thought you might be out here cooking in the sun."

I blinked at him. "You brought lemonade?"

"Is that weird?"

"Honestly?" I took the cup, partly because I was thirsty and partly because refusing it would've made me look ungrateful. "Yeah. A little."

He smiled. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

I narrowed my eyes, sipping the drink. It was perfect. Cold, tart, not too sweet. I hated that he was right.

"What are you really doing here, Liam?" I asked, not bothering with small talk.

"I told you. Writing. Escaping. Thinking."

"You make it sound poetic."

"Sometimes life is."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

And for a moment, the air felt heavier not uncomfortable, just... full. Like there were too many things unsaid between us already.

"I'm not buying it," I said finally.

"That's fair."

"You're hiding something."

"Probably."

That caught me off guard.

He tilted his head. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Amara. But I've got my reasons for being here. They're complicated."

I raised a brow. "You don't say."

"You're not the only one with things to figure out."

His words struck a chord in me. Too close. Too true. And that irritated me more than anything else.

"You want to make yourself useful?" I asked, changing the subject.

His eyes lit up. "I'm listening."

"Grab that wheelbarrow and follow me."

Liam was terrible at farm work.

Which made it fun to watch.

He nearly toppled over trying to lift a sack of chicken feed, stepped in something that made him gag dramatically, and flinched every time the rooster crowed too close to his ear.

"You okay, city boy?" I teased, leaning against the fence as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

He looked up at me, face red, shirt sticking to his back. "Is it always this hot out here?"

"Welcome to real life."

"Remind me never to complain about traffic again."

Despite myself, I laughed. I hadn't laughed like that in weeks, maybe longer. And it wasn't just a polite chuckle. It was the kind that bubbled up from somewhere deep, unexpected.

He smiled when he heard it.

And that's when it happened, the shift.

The air between us, the tension - it changed. Lighthearted turned into something quieter. Intense. His gaze lingered a second too long. My breath caught a second too short.

I looked away first.

"Let's go," I said. "Still got work to do."

We moved back toward the barn in silence, side by side but not quite close enough to touch. And I hated how aware I was of that space between us and how much I wanted to close it.

Stupid.

This was not the time.

When we reached the barn, I opened the big sliding door and stepped inside. The shade was a relief, and the familiar scent of hay, wood, and soil welcomed me home.

Liam followed me in, still breathing hard from the heat. "What now?"

"You get the broom," I said. "And try not to fall on your face."

He gave me a mock salute, then started sweeping, slow and uneven.

I walked to the back to grab a bucket, but before I got far, I heard a loud crack, followed by a startled yelp.

I whipped around.

Liam had slipped on spilled grain and landed on his back, legs tangled in the broom like some tragic slapstick comedy sketch.

"Oh my God," I said, running over. "Are you okay?"

He groaned. "Define okay."

"You idiot." I tried to hide my grin as I crouched beside him. "You're not built for this life."

"Maybe I need a better teacher."

I rolled my eyes and offered him a hand. He took it and didn't let go right away once he was up.

And just like that, we were standing too close again.

His fingers brushed against mine. Just slightly. Just long enough to make my heart do that stupid skip it hadn't done since... well, a long time.

I should've pulled away.

But I didn't.

His gaze dropped to my lips for half a second. My breath caught again.

And that's when the pitchfork fell.

Literally.

Somehow, his elbow knocked it loose from the wall hook, and it clattered to the ground inches from us, snapping us both out of the moment.

We jumped apart like teenagers caught sneaking out.

"Okay," I said, rubbing my temples. "That's enough help for today."

"Agreed," he said, grinning. "Barn almost killed me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

We left the barn in silence, but something had shifted between us.

Something neither of us could name yet or maybe didn't want to.

That night, I sat on the porch with a blanket over my lap and a notebook in my hand. I tried to write out a plan, a budget, anything to stop the farm from slipping away.

But my mind kept circling back to one thing.

One person.

Liam Cole.

There was something about him that didn't add up. But there was also something that made me feel... alive. Annoyed. Curious. Warm. All at once.

Dangerous, I told myself.

But I didn't stop thinking about him.

Not even when the porch light flickered, and the crickets took over the silence.