She knew that because if he was the sort of man she would marry, he wanted to make the world a better place. She couldn’t say that, though. “It’s just the impression you give.” She lifted her chin, feeling more certain. “Am I wrong?”
“No, but that still doesn’t mean you know enough about me.”
“Oh, I also know you don’t hold grudges. Because despite Milo giving you a hard time, you’re his friend. Most guys would be trying to knock him down a peg.” She took a step closer to Enzo. Teasing. Hopeful. “Do I know you well enough now to kiss you?”
He unfolded his arms and yet still kept a stubborn distance from her. “You don’t know any of my bad qualities. For all you know, those might be quite substantial.”
She took another step closer to him, putting herself almost in kissing position. This was so forward, so unlike her. That was another thing she knew about him. He made her feel brave. “Isthere a substantial number of bad things about you?”
“If I said no, it might be because I’m dishonest. I could be the sort of man who uses people.”
She slipped her hand into his. “I’m willing to risk it.”
He didn’t tighten his hand around hers. “You’re entirely too trusting. It will get you in trouble one day.”
“Maybe.” She slid her other hand across his chest. His shirt was fairly new, hadn’t been worn soft by a hundred washes yet. “But I don’t think I’ll get in trouble today.”
His free hand wrapped around her hand on his chest, stopping its progress. “You’re right because we’re going back to the bunkhouses now.” He dropped both of her hands, turned away, and strode toward the corn rows.
Charity stood there, stunned and staring at his retreating back.
So, this was what rejection felt like—this sharp, horrible pain in her chest. She gulped, thankful he couldn’t see her face flushing with humiliation. She numbly retrieved Zia’s phone from the tree branch.
Enzo hadn’t waited for her, which meant he didn’t expect the two of them to walk back together. Just as well. She didn’t want to walk with him. What would she say to him at this point?
He’d made his rejection sound like a favor—like something was wrong with him, and she’d regret getting involved with him, but that wasn’t the truth. No one spurned someone for those reasons. He thoughtshewasn’t good enough for him.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Breathing was hard. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to make any noise that he might hear. She’d said he felt things too deeply, but until this moment, she hadn’t realized she was the same way.
Stupid tears. Stupid expectations. She’d only known him for three weeks. She couldn’t possibly be in love with him already, and yet she felt like she was. From the instant she’d seen him, he’d been all she could think about. And he’d rejected her.
She turned on the phone’s flashlight and took slow steps down a different cornrow than the one he’d disappeared into.
The evening air seemed too cold, and her footsteps felt wooden. Enzo had been the one who insisted on dancing with her. He’d been happy enough to kiss her at first. What had changed?
He probably just realized he wanted more in a girlfriend than a harvester. With his tech skills, he’d be able to find a desk job somewhere. He could have a sophisticated, wealthy girlfriend. Why would he want Charity?
She felt the shame of it then, being a harvester. Usually, she told herself that harvesters were the backbone of the country. Hard workers. Honest people. They weren’t caught up in materialism and pride like city dwellers. But now she couldn’t help but see herself as Enzo must see her: uneducated, simple, and low class.
She wiped tears from her cheeks and took deep, jagged breaths. She needed to pull herself together before she reached her bunkhouse. What happened today didn’t matter. Someday Enzo would want to marry her. Someday he’d ask her. Maybe Zia was right and her father had the vision to reassure her things would eventually work out between the two of them.
This thought should’ve made her feel better. But after this evening, she couldn’t believe that things would work out anytime soon. Perhaps the two wouldn’t marry for another ten years when fate brought them back together.
Whatever the case, she wouldn’t put her heart out on the chopping block again. If he wanted to avoid her, she’d make it easy for him. She would avoid him right back.
13
Enzo marched down a corn row, berating himself. What had he been thinking? The most important part of going undercover was having a plan and sticking with it. His plan for the last five days had been to gain Milo’s trust and get whatever information he needed from him. If Enzo couldn’t do that, he’d work on Zia. Charity should be his last option.
In order to bring criminals in, especially Empowereds, an officer had to keep emotionally distant from them. Once you started sympathizing with the criminals, you made mistakes and made exceptions. You forgot the importance of your mission. Charity had already tangled up his sympathy too much. Her and her innocent blue eyes.
It didn’t matter that the Empowereds here were lying low and hadn’t been caught breaking the law yet. They always broke it eventually, and they always hurt innocent people in the process. Absolute power corrupted absolutely.
Besides, the Huntingtons were not what they seemed. They had secrets, some plan that simmered just below the surface. Even if Enzo hadn’t learned concerning details about the Huntington men from the other harvesters, he would’ve stillsensed they had a hidden agenda. It was there in the knowing looks they sent one another, in the careful way they chose their words, in actions that didn’t quite make sense.
The other workers had told Enzo that although Ben was a successful co-op leader, he never bought anything for himself. His money went somewhere, but not into machinery that would make the co-op’s job easier—which showed Ben didn’t plan on his family staying harvesters for much longer.
Also concerning were the people who disappeared. The best, most responsible workers had a tendency to suddenly leave the co-op. That wouldn’t normally raise red flags, except that after they left, their phone numbers never worked. No one heard from them again. They were either afraid to have contact with anyone from their old co-op or something unfortunate had happened to them.