Colton Farms Read online

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgment

  Note to Readers About Colton Farms

  Chapter One—Jack

  Chapter Two—Claire

  Chapter Three—Jack

  Chapter Four—Claire

  Chapter Five—Jack

  Chapter Six—Jack

  Chapter Seven—Claire

  Chapter Eight—Jack

  Chapter Nine—Claire

  Chapter Ten—Jack

  Chapter Eleven—Claire

  Chapter Twelve—Jack

  Chapter Thirteen—Claire

  Chapter Fourteen—Jack

  Chapter Fifteen—Claire

  Chapter Sixteen—Jack

  Chapter Seventeen—Claire

  Chapter Eighteen—Jack

  Chapter Nineteen—Claire

  Chapter Twenty—Jack

  Chapter Twenty-One—Claire

  First Epilogue—Jack

  Second Epilogue—Claire

  A Note from the Author

  About the Book

  There are some things in the universe that are just meant to be together, like Peanut Butter & Jelly or Sweet Tea & Fried Chicken or even Johnny & June Cash…but Jack Colton and Claire Hawkins? Nope. They just don’t make any sense.

  He’s a farmer from Tennessee.

  She’s the daughter of a billionaire.

  He’s older. She’s younger.

  He’s settled. She’s lost.

  He’s country. She’s city.

  She’s a virgin...

  The truth is, they should never even cross paths, much less get involved. Nothing good can come of it. Nope, it’s better if they remain strangers, the way the universe intended.

  But then again... some might say Jack and Claire are supposed to find each other. Some might even claim they have no choice. Destiny, fate, kismet, providence, the stars’ luck, serendipity—whatever you want to call it, that’s what will bring Jack and Claire together.

  In a deserted diner.

  In a small town in the middle of nowhere…

  Colton Farms is a full-length, stand-alone novel (almost 88,000 words). It is intended for readers over the age of eighteen due to steamy sex (and I do mean steamy) and due to graphic language. It has a guaranteed happily ever after ending, that promises to leave you smiling. Enjoy!

  Copyright

  Colton Farms

  Copyright © 2018 M.E. Parker

  [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original publisher only.

  Copyright and Trademark Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the copyright and trademarked status and trademark owners of the trademarks and copyrights mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my readers.

  Whoever you are.

  Wherever you are.

  I hope you enjoy it.

  Acknowledgment

  I want to offer a special thank you to several great women who generously volunteered to beta read Jack and Claire’s story. Your feedback and advice has been invaluable. I took it all to heart. Every bit. Your generous help made Colton Farms a better book. Thank you, Peyton Gaudiosi, Bibiane Lybæk, and Terry Sasada, you guys are awesome!

  Note to Readers About Colton Farms

  This book was intentionally set sometime in the mid to late 1990’s. If you see references to obscure things or people, such as the Blackberry, an MP3 Player, or Mazzy Star, it is not because the book was written twenty years ago. The references are there for a reason and I promise you will come to understand by the end of the story. Happy Reading!

  Chapter One—Jack

  I walked out onto the front porch with a cold beer in my hand and leaned on the porch railing to scan the horizon. It was quiet—too quiet. The fields were bare and brown, and the trees still appeared lifeless from winter. But the sun was setting, and the sky mingled between muted shades of blue, gray, orange, and yellow as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was the beginning of March, spring was just around the corner and very soon, there would be nothing but green as far as the eye could see. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t a better view in the whole world. Even as the pang of loneliness punched me in the gut, I knew I was right where I belonged. I was born to run the farm. It meant everything to me.

  The farm was home to me, the only home I’d ever known. My parents were still there. I could feel them. I lost them in a plane crash when I was sixteen. The farm was the only place I could still feel their presence.

  I lived with and worked for my Uncle Joe after they died. Under the terms of my parents’ will, the land was to be held in trust for me until I reached the age of twenty-eight. So up until then, I worked the land, went to college and got a degree in Agriculture, and learned everything there was to learn about farming. About a month after I turned twenty-eight, Uncle Joe passed, and I inherited his land too. Two years later, at the age of thirty, I owned over ninety percent of the land in Bedsford County, Tennessee and I became the largest private producer of soybeans in the country. I was a very big fish in a very small pond.

  There was a constant stream of lawyers passing in and out of town with offers from huge farm corporations to buy me out. I wasn’t interested. This land belonged to my family. I was never going to give it up. I didn’t care about the hundreds of millions the offers would bring. The farm was thriving, it was making a profit and I was rich. I had more money than I would ever need.

  As soon as planting season came, the place would be full of seasonal workers. Ted, my farm manager, and his wife, Sarah, my housekeeper, would be back from Florida and it wouldn’t be quiet anymore. Ted and Sarah had become like parents to me. Ted was my dad’s farm manager when I was growing up and Sarah helped my mama with the cooking for the farm hands during the busy season. They were never blessed with children themselves, so when Mama and Daddy passed, they stepped in. Every year at this time, they took a few weeks off and went to visit Sarah’s sister and her husband in Florida, who had nearly a dozen grandbabies.

  I was looking forward to getting some peace and quiet when they left this time, but it had only been three days and I was already going stir crazy in this big ass house. Not to mention, I was hungry. I forgot how much I had come to rely on Sarah’s cooking. My stomach rumbled as I walked back inside the house and tossed my empty beer bottle in the trash. She had left me a bunch of frozen meals with instructions on how to heat them up, but I needed to get out of there. More than that, I needed some human interaction. I grabbed Ted’s truck keys off the kitchen island and made my way out to the driveway.

  I insisted this year that Ted and Sarah take my new SUV on their trip to Florida, Ted’s truck was older than me. It was pretty much a big pile of shit. There was no other way to describe it. It was covered with rust spots. I paid Ted well and I knew he had plenty of money to buy a new one, but he was stubborn. When I called him out on it, he said he was “saving up for his old age.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his old age was just about to kick him in the ass. The heavy metal door creaked as I climbed into the cab and slid onto the cracked vinyl seat. At least it was clean, and it ran, I thought as I cranked the ignition.

  As I drove out of my driveway, I watched in the rearview mirror with a frown as the ten thousand square-foot monstrosity that I now called a home grew smaller and smaller as I made my way to the country road that dissected the farm. I didn’t feel like I had made many bad decisions i
n my life, except for building that damn house two years ago. It was ridiculous. The truth was, I was just embarrassed by it. If I could just tear the thing down and move back to my childhood home, I would. But, by the time I realized I had made a mistake, I had already asked Ted and Sarah to move in my folk’s old place and I couldn’t ask them to leave.

  It was a thirty-minute drive to town. But it would be worth it to get to Suzie’s Diner and have some of her fried chicken. When I pulled into the Diner parking lot, thirty minutes later, I grimaced when I saw that it was empty. Even though it was a Monday night, at seven o’clock, there should be a few cars. It was offseason. I always worried about the local merchants during the offseason. Our farm employed hundreds of workers during the growing season, but come winter, they all went home, most of them living in neighboring towns and counties. I knew that this was a rough time for small business owners and I hoped they were making ends meet.

  I walked into the diner and saw Suzie standing behind the counter. Before I could greet her, she smiled, “Well look what the cat’s drug in!”

  I laughed, “Evening Suzie, how’s business? It looks pretty slow tonight.”

  “Well, it always is during offseason, especially on weeknights. No matter, we’ll close early tonight. Johnny and Betsy are in town with my grandbabies, so we have a house full.” She turned towards the kitchen and hollered, “Walter! Jack’s out here come say hello.” Suzie turned back towards me and smiled, “What you eatin’ tonight Jack?”

  “You got any fried chicken?” I asked, as I saw Walter make his way out of the kitchen.

  Walter came out of the kitchen fussing, “Of course we have fried chicken Jack, what kind of place do you think we’re runnin’ here?”

  I got up off my stool to shake his hand as Suzie filled my glass with sweet tea. “Good to see you, Walt. How y’all gettin’ along?”

  “Can’t complain, just holdin’ out ‘til plantin’ season, you know?”

  “I hear you, Walt, you let me know if y’all need anything, I know this is a rough time of year.” Walt nodded with appreciation in his eyes and made his way back to the kitchen.

  Suzie started to wipe down the counters while I waited on my dinner even though the counters were already spotless, “You know Jack, they hired a new teacher over at the elementary school, for kindergarten I think. Her name is Alley. I caught a gander at her at the dollar store the other day, she’s pretty cute. Looks to be close to your age.”

  I rolled my eyes, “What have I told you about matchmaking Suzie?”

  Suzie braced her both hands on the counter and looked me straight in the eye, “Jack Colton, you are thirty years old, it’s time for you to settle down. I wish more than anything your mama was here to tell you this herself. But I know she’d want me to say it. It’s been two years, Jack. You need to find you a wife and fill that big ole’ house of yours with babies. You have too much to offer to live your life alone. You need to open your heart again.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. I know she meant well, but I didn’t want to hear about it and I sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe I should have just stayed on the farm tonight, I thought to myself, before I gave Suzie a tight smile, “My heart’s closed for business Suzie, you know that. I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me. My life is just how I want it to be.”

  With that, I grabbed today’s copy of the Tennessean off the counter and pretended to read, even though I had read the entire newspaper from front to back earlier today. I just wanted her to understand that the subject was closed.

  I pretended to read the newspaper while waiting for my fried chicken and my mind drifted to a place I hated. Tiffany. She was supposed to be mine. We were supposed to be married, maybe even have a kid by now. I loved her for as long as I could remember. We grew up together. She was my first everything. She stood by me after my parents died, through working on the farm, through college, through everything. At least that’s what I thought. Little did I know, she was always looking for something better. I guessed I was just the best this town had to offer.

  I should have known. She always talked about living in the city. She wanted a McMansion in the suburbs. She wanted shopping malls, hot yoga, and spas. She wanted everything life on a farm could not give her. She had always tried to talk me into selling the land. But I never gave her any hope that I would do it. I guess she was still holding out.

  I thought if I built her the house of her dreams, that would be enough. So, I did. It was ten thousand square feet. It had six bedrooms and her dream kitchen which was copied straight from her favorite issue of Southern Living. It had a pool in the backyard. Hell, I even built her a media room and work out room. It was everything she ever dreamed of. Except it wasn’t. It was on the farm, it was in this town.

  The day construction ended on the house, I took her to our special place, under the old oak tree where we first made love. I pulled out the five-karat princess cut diamond ring that she always dreamed about and I asked her to spend the rest of her life with me. She didn’t cry, she didn’t embrace me, and more importantly, she didn’t say yes. She just looked at me and asked me to sell the land. It was an ultimatum I never saw coming. She wanted me to choose between her and my parents’ farm.

  I asked her to give me some time to think about it. I loved her that much. I was willing to give up the only other thing I ever loved just to be with her.

  Only a few days passed before I found out she was fucking some lawyer from Nashville who she met when he was in town to try to buy me out. That made the choice easy. I found them together at the hotel in the next town over. I wanted to rip his heart out. I pounded on the door of the hotel room. When the asshole opened the door with no shirt on and I saw Tiffany hiding under the covers with her red curls spilling out onto the pillow, I just smirked at him. Then I tipped my hat at the man and said, “Take her, she’s yours.”

  I walked away and never looked back after that day. She never even saw the house I built for her. To be honest, I didn’t even think she knew about it until she showed up at my doorstep six months later. I refused to let her in. I would never give her that satisfaction. Apparently, lawyer guy realized how high maintenance she was and showed her the door. Last I heard, she was living with her sister in Nashville waiting tables at some fancy restaurant.

  So, when I told Suzie that my heart was closed for business. I meant it. I would never let a woman play me like that again. I didn’t care if it meant being alone for the rest of my life.

  Chapter Two—Claire

  I looked over at Jonathan from the passenger seat of our rented BMW as we continued to drive down some country highway in Tennessee. I had no idea where we were and neither did he. He looked pissed. It was not how I expected this trip to go. My phone rang again for the seventh time today, it was my father and I ignored him again. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to my father. I knew what he wanted, and I wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation with Jonathan sitting right next to me.

  I reached over to grab Jonathan’s phone to see if I could pull up a map since my phone was going in and out with the spotty service. He put his hand over mine. “Don’t---I got this Claire, we’re coming up on a town any second. We’ll stop there and find a place to stay for the night.”

  Jonathan and I had only been dating for a couple of months. I looked over at him again staring at his long blond hair. He really was good looking in a hippy-meets-nerd sort of way. He was tall and thin, and he had hazel eyes that hid behind his Clark Kent glasses. His hair was messed up in a deliberate enough fashion that made you want to run your fingers through it, so it wouldn’t seem so intentionally unkempt. I wasn’t sure why he was acting so pissed off. This trip was what he wanted—it was his idea and I was paying for it. It was supposed to be his birthday gift, that and the Rolex GMT watch he had been hinting he wanted since practically our first date.

  I had also planned to give him my virginity. I would have given it up last night if he hadn’t got
ten completely wasted at the hotel bar as soon as we landed in Nashville. Now I was having second thoughts, I wasn’t going to give myself to Jonathan if he was going to act like an asshole for the entire trip.

  I looked out the window and continued to see nothing but farmland for miles. My phone rang again. It was my father again. I ignored the call. I knew I should answer, he’d been trying to get in touch with me for weeks. My year was up and that made my stomach turn, I wasn’t ready to go back home and face it all. My father owned Hawkins Industries. It was one of the largest manufacturing companies in the country. We made metal parts for everything from clothing to recliners to cars and planes. He built it from nothing and as a result, I had a trust fund that held millions of dollars.

  I’d once been an exemplary daughter, his pride and joy. I loved seeing the sense of accomplishment in his eyes when he smiled at me or introduced me to one of his business associates. That time had come to an end, I knew it. I’d gone completely off the rails. I attended the best all girls’ boarding school there was in the northeast. I followed every rule and graduated at the top of my class. I went on to Brown University in Rhode Island, graduated with honors, and then to the Wharton School of Business to get my MBA. By the time I was twenty-four, I had done exactly everything my father had wanted and I had managed to hold onto my virginity. I was a father’s dream come true.

  After I graduated from Wharton, I went home to take my rightful place beside my father at Hawkins Industries. After a week, I began to feel like I was suffocating. I felt as if I was drowning and I couldn’t even see the surface of the water. It wasn’t just the job. My father had planned my life down to every last detail, including who I was to marry. Ronald Joseph Maclanahan, Jr. “R.J.,” as everyone called him, was the spoiled son of my father’s business associate, who had a stick stuck so far up his ass that I was pretty sure he needed to sleep standing up. The marriage would form the quintessential partnership and double our already outrageous family fortune.