Sundown it was. Jonas Rishel managed his day not by a calendar app but by the rising and setting of the sun. Refreshing…and darned attractive. “Thank you. And thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome, Tessa Meadows. Enjoy your three dozen pies.” Whistling, he turned and loped back toward the barn.

She slid behind the steering wheel and paused with her key in the ignition. Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies”? She chuckled.

Nah. It couldn’t be.

****

“Jenn, I think I want to be Amish.”

“You’re kidding.”

Tessa tucked the phone under her chin and yanked open the fridge. Just thinking about the pies in the pop-top made her mouth water. As did the guy who put them there. “Why?”

“You’ll never have sex, for one thing. They only do it like twice, to have kids—”

She guffawed, and the phone slipped an inch or two. “Twice?”

“Well, eight or nine times, I guess.”

She giggled again and shoved aside a jar of sweet pickles. “Might be worth it.”

“Tess, Witness was just a movie. Harrison Ford won’t dance with you in the barn.”

The chorus of “Wonderful World” echoed in her thoughts. Dancing with Jonas by lamplight? She could imagine worse ways to spend an evening. “Technically, Harrison Ford wasn’t the Amish guy.”

“You’d never see another movie. Never binge-watch TV. You’d waste away.”

“I don’t know. I mean, you’d be living off the land.” She gathered Esther King’s strawberries, a tub of plain yogurt, and a pitcher of iced coffee. “This week at the Farmers’ Market, I saw this…Amish man.” She kicked closed the fridge door with one foot.

“Don’t even tell me. You’re hot for an Amish guy!”

The pitcher was icy, but her palms flamed at the memory of simply shaking his hand. Hot didn’t begin to cover it. “No…”

“Oh, sweetie. You’ve got to move to New York. I’ll introduce you to guys. We’ll go to clubs.”

She poured a healthy dose of coffee into a mason jar. “Seriously, he’s the most gorgeous man I have ever met.”

“Wait a minute, you actually met him?”

“Well, this morning at his farm—”

Jenn let out a shriek. “You went to his farm?”

She stirred in a tablespoon of raw sugar and a glug of half and half. Granules swirled in a mini whirlpool. “Pies, Jenn. I was buying pies for this thing at the hospital—it doesn’t matter. It’s just—this guy. We sort of sparked.”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“An upper lip like Batman. And muscles for days.”

“Have you forgotten Stephen and James and even that jock from high school? Amish Batman is another unattainable guy.”

“I know. I’m not serious.” She took a swig and crunched down on undissolved sugar. Jenn didn’t need to rehash her mediocre track record with men. She certainly hadn’t forgotten it.