by Candy Quinn
“Yea, a fence,” I muttered absently before looking at the supply barn. “There’s probably some wood in there, not sure if it’d be good enough.”
He cocked a brow at me quizzically.
“So does that mean I have the job?” he asked in that deep, husky voice of his. The sort of voice I only knew from TV and movies, the kind that makes a gal wanna cream her jeans. “‘Cause we should probably talk pay and all that. Maybe even exchange names,” he tacked on with some dry humour, a slight smirk on those full lips of his.
Of course, I knew his name, but I wasn’t going to admit that, or how I’d found out by askin’ Mr. Fennel. I put my hands in my jean shorts back pocket, thrusting my chest out a bit and daring him to look at me again. I knew I was being brazen, but my body was tingling with need.
“I suppose. You wanna come in and I’ll get you some water? We ain’t got much, but we need a farmhand sure as anything.”
He gave me a firm nod and started to tread upon the earth with his heavy footsteps.
“Name’s Asher, by the way,” he said as he walked on by, and did the slightest of thing. A brief touch of his hard, calloused hand upon my arm. It was a strong grip, but a light touch, and easy to tell he was no regular city boy. He clearly knew how to work with that feel of his palm.
Though more immediate, was the tight cheeks that were hugged by his jeans as he headed on towards the farmhouse and laid the hoe to rest by the door.
“Shelby,” I said as I followed after him, unashamed about how my eyes wandered over his firm ass, the little indents just above his cheeks.
“You sure got a lot of tattoos, Asher.”
That remark got little more than a grunt from him, and I realized quickly that I weren’t gonna be gettin’ a lot of detailed answers about this mystery man’s past so easy as that. It’d take more diggin’ than scuffin’ about the topsoil.
We went on into the farm house, and there was sight nor sound of ma, which weren’t surprisin’. She spent most of her day knittin’ in the rockin’ chair upstairs, for no particular reason.
So I went to fetch us both a tall glass of water, as I turned and looked to the tall drink of water that really interested me.
“You here all alone?” he asked, less curious than confused. Concerned maybe. His brow furrowed as he looked around, seein’ no signs of anyone else as he stood bare chested in my kitchen.
I admit, for a second I was a bit scared, just enough to get my heart racing. If he were an axe murderer, well, I was servin’ myself up on a platter for him. No one around for miles and him thinking I was by myself in the big ol’ farmhouse.
Though the confusion kinda softened me to it.
“Ma’s around,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said as I handed him the water, a few pieces of ice in it from the icebox, though he guzzled the whole glass so fast that never made a difference. Then he plunked the glass on down with a satisfied ‘ah’ and I plucked it up again, having not even sipped my own.
“You worked up a fierce thirst, that’s fer sure,” I remarked, pourin’ up another glass from the pitcher.
“Been on the road all mornin’, haven’t stopped for a break since I set out,” he explained in his deep tone, leanin’ up against the countertop all casual like, lettin’ his bare chest ripple.
“Where you come from?” I asked as I handed his glass to him, taking a smaller sip of my own. I knew better than to chug cold water after working up a sweat.
“Out east,” was all he offered up, wiping his brow with the bare skin of his bulging forearm, the sweat drawing attention to the way his veins bulged his sunkissed skin out. He was a real man, hardened by the elements and life, I reckoned. “You grow up on this farm all your life?” he asked in return, lookin’ at me like all his attentions were focussed.
“Yea, was my grandpappy’s before now, been in the family for over forty years,” I said, being a lot more forthcoming than him. I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to keep talking and thought maybe if I shared, he would too.
“You’re lucky,” he said after a long mulling over, nodding his head as he took his time with that second helping of ice cold water. “Not many folks I’ve known got the luxury of growin’ up in one spot. Most end up movin’ all over the place, travellin’ wherever there’s work or money,” he said, leaning back with one hand upon the counter top.
I’d never thought of it like that. Always felt chained down to the one place, especially after pa died and ma started going dim.
“Yea, I guess so.” I took another sip, thoughtful for a moment. “So that’s why you’re on the go? Just looking for a job with nothing more than the clothes on your back?”
With a casual shrug of his shoulders he rested the glass down on the countertop and looked to me with a half-smile.
“Well, sheddin’ those fast too at this rate,” he said oh so casually, lookin’ me up and down without a lick of shame, not like the shy farmboys I knew all my life, who were only brave or brazen when in a pack of their friends. “Room and board, and a daily pay is all I ask, and I’ll do whatever needs doing around the farm. You got work needs to be done, I’ll get it done. No fuss. That’s my guarantee, Shelby,” he said with such firm assurance, leaving me without a shred of doubt in his abilities.
I looked at him and gave a soft nod. I wasn’t kidding anyone if I thought for a second I wouldn’t hire him on. And the idea of cooking for a man, and having dinner with him, that didn’t turn me away from it at all.
“Agreed,” I said as I drank the rest of my water. “There’s lots that needs done and you seem pretty quick about it.”
“There’s only a couple things I’m slow about, hun,” he remarked so casually, pushing himself up from the countertop and leaving his glass behind. “Now you got a shed I can store my bike in while I’m not using it? Rather it stay clean and dry, if it can be helped.
There he was, looming over me, tall as a mountain it seemed, and just as large. All tattooed, tanned flesh over hard, corded muscle. Whatever he did before, if it weren’t farm work, it was somethin’ tough.
And with his first comment, it took me a while to get enough awareness about anything else to really hear what he said next, something about his bike.
What’d he mean going slow about things anyways?
My heart was thudding like my body was hopeful it was something dirty, and I was struggling not to blush.
“What? Oh, yea, yea, the shed, sure. We keep the tractor and stuff, you can use that if you want.”
He looked me over again and gave a firm nod.
“Thanks,” he said simply before heading towards the door. “I’m gonna park it on in there, and then you can tell me more about what needs doing. Won’t take me long to finish up that fence for you anyhow,” he said simply before strutting on out, that tight rear of his on display as he headed on up the path.
I had no idea what I was gettin’ myself into. Never so much as seen a man like him around, let alone spent much time with him. But there he was, topless as he got up on his hog and pulled it on into the tractor shed with the other equipment.
I leaned against the kitchen counter as I stared, and I swear, if I’d been a few years younger I’d probably have had little birds and hearts floating around my golden hair.
As it was, I instead had this warmth between my thighs and a longing I’d never felt before, not like that, not ever.
I spent most of the rest of that day puttin’ together supper. It’d been a while since I had an excuse to go all out like that. Most of my days had been spent doin’ all the work that Asher was up to, on my own, after all. A day of that left a gal in the mood for one thing: fast and easy food, that’s it.
Instead, I got to spend my time gettin’ reacquainted with my old culinary skills, whippin’ up a roast chicken, with mashed taters and veggies, all fresh from the garden. And of course, usin’ my time in front of the kitchen window to admire my new view.
Though as I was gettin’ ready to go out
and call Asher in, there came trouble up the road. Trouble, thy name is Marcus.
Sure, my older cousin was no big deal, he was more bark than bite. But he could sure bark a lot when he got somethin’ stuck in his craw, and I had a feelin’ Asher was one of those things that’d stay stuck.
Though as Marcus pulled up and got out of his truck, the big smile on his face said he hadn’t yet noticed the big hunk over in the farmhouse yet.
“Hey, how you holdin’ up?” Marcus asked, as he walked on up, hands in his pockets.
“Fine, what’re you here for?” I asked, and I knew I was being way too terse. He was going to figure it out in a second if I kept up like that. “I didn’t expect to see you again is all, is everything alright?”
“Just figured I’d stop by, see how you was doin’,” he said, smilin’ and takin’ with no notice of my rude behaviour. “Thought you might be tuckered after all day, and wanna head into town for some of Miss Maddy’s cookin’.”
Of course, there was only the one restaurant in our sleepy little farm ‘town’. And it was one I was ashamed to say I spent more than I should at.
“It’s fine, Marcus, I’ve actually...” I paused. If I mentioned a feast, he’d want to stay and it’d be rude to say no, but I was greedily wanting not to have to deal with his bark right yet. But I couldn’t think fast enough to come up with a plausible excuse to get him gone.
“I made up some chicken already, is all,” I said.
“Oh, well… could put that in the pantry for now. Dinner’s on me, after all,” he said with a toothy grin. “Or… we’s could split it,” he added on, lookin’ impish and cute. Though that faded mighty fast once I saw his eyes dart over to the side, towards the barn house, and a grim look took hold.
I could swear he thought we was about to be murdered! But when I looked over, it was just Asher, comin’ out of the barn, topless and with his shirt in hand.
It was awkward. He’d already told me off for being too trusting, and here he was trying to be nice and family like and I’ve gone behind his back. But I couldn’t help but stare at Asher longer than was polite. Sweat accentuated his muscles, making him shine just a little, and I was entranced.
“You never…” Marcus said, lookin’ at me like I’d just burnt down the family farm, instead of givin’ some guy a break. “What’re ya thinkin’, Shelby?!” he said, as Asher looked up and over in our direction as he slowly continued along his way towards us.
“If’n you needed some help, I’d have give it!” Marcus said, gesturin’ wildly with his lanky arms.
“You got your own stuff and I won’t have you be put out on my account! ‘sides, he’s just here to help out for the busy season, gettin’ everythin’ ready and all that. Even you and I couldn’t work faster and better than one of him and you know it.”
Marcus’ eyes both widened and narrowed somehow, and he looked downright savage!
“That’s a dang lie, sure as shootin’!” he said obstinately, but already Asher was within earshot, pullin’ his shirt on over his head, tuggin’ it down around his broad shoulders and bulging torso.
“Hey you,” Marcus said brazenly to Asher, puffin’ up his own puny lil’ chest as he attempted to intimidate the much larger man, but gettin’ only a furrowed brow and a confused look from the hunk. “You better keep yer paws off a Shelby here. ‘Cause I only live down the road, and I got more’n enough guns to stop whoever gives our family trouble, y’hear?”
Of course, Asher just continued to stare, standin’ there like a colossus.
“Marcus,” I hissed, reaching for his shoulder. “He ain’t been nothin’ but a gentleman and already finished squarin’ off the patch for the flower garden, just in the one afternoon!”
Marcus brushed off my hand, and continued on though, stubborn as a mule.
“You best watch your behaviour ‘round here, fella. The Sherriff’s a friend of the family—” which was true, but then Hank was everyone’s friend, it weren’t like there was a ton of people “—so just you watch out, hear?”
Asher for his part simply stood, starin’ down at Marcus like he was some yippin’ dog and he couldn’t figure out what the pup wanted.
“Fine, Marcus, you made your point!” I protested, and really, I was getting worried that Asher might be put off from all of it. Just hop on his hog and take off to someplace he wasn’t gonna be told off for doing not a thing wrong.
Hell, even if he had touched me, ain’t nothing wrong with that. Not like I didn’t want it.
Marcus glanced at me irritably before glaring back at Asher, and with no response, he just stormed off on his own, back to his pickup and left in a huff, the gravel of the driveway kickin’ up in a mess.
Asher just adjusted his shirt back down over that gorgeous physique of his as he watched Marcus leave, then looked to me.
“Seems awful worked up. What’s his problem?” he asked simply, in that deliciously dark voice of his.
I didn’t even know how to explain, so I sighed, and motioned for the door.
“C’mon, I made a huge feast, and I’m sure you’re way hungrier for food than family drama,” I said, brushin’ back some of my blonde hair from my cheek and hoping that I looked calmer than I felt.
“You bet,” he said in a gruff, firm voice, and I could tell he wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity for some food.
So we traipsed on into the house, where I had laid out an embarrassingly big meal before us, and Asher sat himself down.
“And it’s just the two of us?” he asked, sounding surprised as he tore off a drumstick and wasted no time helpin’ himself. Not that I could blame him, I still remembered what my pa was like, and it weren’t pretty come dinner time!
“Yup, so eat as much as you need. Seriously, you did awesome work out there today, Asher,” I gushed, and I tried to dial it back a notch.
“I got your room all ready too. I mean, we have power and all that, so if you wanted to hang out for a bit after sundown, we got the family room.”
Asher didn’t need much encouragement, the big lug was tearing into his drumstick even as he scooped up some mashed potatoes with his other hand, and it was clear he was ravenous. Couldn’t blame him after a hard day of work like he’d put in.
“That’s damn good,” he managed to get out in the short span between bites.
I smiled, watching him eat before more lightly beginning my own dinner. I couldn’t help but get enjoyment out of watching such a gorgeous hunk devouring my cooking.
“Thank you,” I said with a sigh. I had been planning on changing before Marcus pulled up, but instead I was stuck in my daisy dukes and button down shirt. He didn’t seem to even notice, though.
Asher helped himself to a generous portion of everythin’ on offer, and of course, I only welcomed it. I’d served up ma’s portion to her in her room before hand, not that she got much enjoyment outta such things anymore. And best of all, he took great relish in enjoyin’ it too. He ate fast, but the number of savoury mmm’s and ahhh’s I got were not to be diminished!
“You’ve got a real knack for cooking,” he said, looking across the table at me with his dark, intense eyes. “Shame you’ve not had anyone to cook for out here.”
“Yea,” I admitted, a bit more morose about it than I intended. Loneliness is a hell of a thing, but I’d done well to ignore that nagging feeling and just do what needs to be done. One day at a time and all that.
I took a bite of my own chicken, and I couldn’t help but agree. I was a damn fine cook if ever there was one, though the wholesome ingredients didn’t hurt.
“You eat like you ain’t had anything decent in ages,” I finally said with a sparkle to my eyes.
He looked over at me, across the table and our eyes locked a while as we chewed.
“You could say that,” he remarked, and his shirt still left his bulgin’ biceps and thick forearms exposed delightfully. “You can’t get good food like this in the city. No way about it,” he said firmly, shakin’ hi
s head as if in regret for all the misspent years with lousy meals. “Even when I knew a good cook, she didn’t have the kind of ingredients you have to work with. You’re a miracle worker in the kitchen.”
Somethin’ about praise from him felt a lil’ more genuine, and a lil’ more flatterin’ than the usual.
Maybe that was my loins talkin’, but it felt good. Real good.
“You charmer,” I grinned, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing like mad.
Thankfully I still had a bit of a tan, so hopefully that muted it a bit.
Asher never took no notice to my blushin’, but instead looked about the place, soakin’ it all in as he ate. He slowed a little, but not much, he was still intent on devourin’ the whole feast I’d prepared, it seemed.
“That fella,” he began, dipping some bread into the gravy I’d prepared, “Do you really think he’s going to cause trouble with the sheriff?” he asked.
“He’s my cousin, just lookin’ for trouble,” I said with a sigh. “He don’t want me to spend my money on hired help and thinks you’re gonna burn the farm down with me in it.”
“Ahh,” he said, as if coming to some great realization.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, nothin’. Just figured he was some jealous boyfriend, that might get me into some trouble with the law,” he responded in between hungry mouthfuls.
I laughed out loud at that.
Marcus wasn’t only my cousin, but he wasn’t my type neither. I didn’t have time for that book stuff, for sitting around and bein’ idle all day. Even though he lived out in the country, he wasn’t like most guys around, not the rougher sort, and that was what I liked.
“No, not at all,” I said with a laugh.
Asher grunted and smiled approvingly as he continued to devour my cookin’.
“I didn’t figure,” he said knowingly. “Yer too good lookin’ and womanly to be fallin’ for a pencil neck worry-wart like that.”
Well it wasn't like he was wrong but it’s hard listening to anyone talk about your family that isn’t family, and I looked back at my plate, putting some food in my mouth to silence the words. His compliment, though, was like a double edged weapon, said so casually it took me a while to even realize it was there.