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The hot new farmhand that just sat down at my dinner table is the definition of why I swore off relationships.
He's smart, charming, and just as handsome as he is sure of himself.
He is exactly the type I want nothing to do with -- not as a fling and certainly not as something more.
Not that it matters what I want since he's leaving in a few months, anyway.
Hooking up would be a recipe for heartbreak.
So, why do I find myself staring into those hypnotic blue eyes and longing for the feel of those sun-kissed hands?
No matter what happens next, I swear to myself I won't ask him to stay.
Get your hands on this sweet, steamy, "it's only a summer fling" standalone about the farmer's daughter and the plant-whispering farmhand who falls for her.
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