8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Libby
I learned a valuable lesson on my birthday.
It is not fun to have to milk cows, or do any other kind of farm chores, with a hangover.
Am I that much of a lightweight I can’t handle three drinks?
“We should do that again. I had a blast.” Char’s cheeks hollow as she pulls at the straw of the smoothie I brought her.
“It was fun, but I don’t think I should have that much liquor again for a while. It’s been two weeks and I’m just starting to feel normal again.” I lean over to readjust Paisley’s crooked hair tie.
The toddler turns with a pouty lower lip and scowls at me before resuming playing with her toy horses.
I’m happy to see the one I got her for Christmas seems to be her new favorite. I’ll chalk that up to secret auntie pride. I wish I could have seen her unwrap it, but I opted to spend the holidays with Dad
“Once the twins come, I don’t know how much free time I’ll have for a while.” Char runs her palm over her rounded belly. “Heck, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to move around. I’m only going into my fifth month.” Her blue eyes widen and she shakes her head.
“You think hooking up with a guy as big as Dixon was gonna give you tiny babies?” I snort as I stand, gesturing for her empty cup. “You’re a professional breeder and you didn’t stop to think what would happen if you crossed a Clydesdale with a Shetland pony?” I drop our garbage into the can.
Char laughs, but then stops. “We’ve already talked about the possibility I’ll have to have a c-section. It’s kinda scary.” Her gaze shifts to a spot on the back of Paisley’s head.
“You’ll be fine. Your husband is a doctor after all.
” Folding my leg under me, I plop down next to her again.
“I kinda wish he could help Dad with his cancer stuff. He’s stressing hard about the bills that are starting to roll in.
” The hem of my jeans becomes incredibly interesting as I pick at it.
“I don’t want to sell the farm, but it’s starting to look like we’ll have to. ”
Char’s palm covers my fidgeting. “Everything will work out. Maybe getting away from the dairy will be a good change? You might be able to go out and live life a little more?” Her lips turn up. “Not like I’m one to talk. I’ve always been a total home-body. ”
“Right? I think that night at the bar was the first I’ve been off of a ranch—” I let my arm wave around my head. “—in ages.”
“Yes…” She shifts so she’s staring at me. “You never told me what happened after you left. You and Blue?” Her dark eyebrows wag suggestively.
Crap.
“That night is a haze.” Kinda. “Nothing happened. I don’t even remember getting home. I just woke up in Dad’s recliner feeling like absolute shit.”
Her lips purse and she tilts her head. “Well, you could do worse than him. His mustache is cute.”
“Just because you have a thing for hairy guys doesn’t mean I do.” Okay, I might, too.
Her grin grows before her finger points at the smile creeping up my own cheeks.
“See? I knew it.” With a sigh, she leans against a pillow behind her.
“Why not just have some fun? But take precautions.” Her thumb juts from her fist to poke herself lightly in her baby bump.
“You don’t need a situation like this any time soon. ”
“My dad would kill us both,” I admit.
Char folds herself over her protruding stomach and drops her voice. “Maybe your dad doesn’t need to know?”
“You’ve been hanging out with me too long. I’ve corrupted you.” I frame her cheeks with my hands and drop a sloppy kiss on her forehead. “I fucking love it.”
My stomach flip flops when I push open the door to the office and catch the scent of his aftershave.
It’s been nearly three weeks since my birthday. I’ve been both nervous and excited, with every emotion in between for him to come back to the farm.
And there he is, all tight Wranglers and sleeves rolled up showing off those guitar strumming muscles in his forearms.
I thought I was so drunk I imagined the whole thing.
“I was starting to wonder if you’d backed out on our deal.” My arms cross over my chest and I lean my hip against the desk where he’s sitting.
Blue pushes his broad cowboy hat up on his head and squints at me. “Well, a promise is a promise. I had some work in Helena last week.” The silver whiskers of his mustache twitch. “Expected to see you at the McCullough’s for Christmas. Were you still recovering from your party?”
His blue eyes twinkle in thinly veiled amusement.
“Aww, it wasn’t that bad. I felt totally fine the next day.” I try to look sincere .
He stretches out his lean torso and threads his hands behind his neck. “You lie like a dog.”
God, his damn dimples.
His lips purse and the side of his square jaw tightens. “I bet you don’t even remember half the night.”
It feels like he’s studying me.
“Vaguely?” My pulse spikes and rushes in my ears. “I remember you jumping off the stage to run that guy off.” I let my palm find my side and cock my hip. “Some bits are fuzzy after that.” I’ll never forget the dancing. The whirling was the highlight of the night.
And the feel of his body pressed against mine.
A flush of heat courses through me.
“So, you gonna show me your system?” I need a distraction.
Without the alcohol, I don’t feel quite as brave around him.
I bet if I’d actually been with a guy before I’d have a better idea what to do.
Instead I’m awkward as hell.
“Huh,” he coughs, then clears his throat. “I wouldn’t call it that quite yet. More like trying to weed out the garbage first.” His long fingers wrap around the worn seat of his chair and he hikes it sideways. “Pull up a stool.”
After a quick glance, I figure the closest one is in the prep room outside .
While I’m out there I take a much needed long breath. I have to focus on learning the recordkeeping.
That’s my main goal.
He’s just the icing on the cake.
A very tall, handsome pastry with a deep voice that’s smooth as buttercream frosting.
Whew. This is going to be difficult.
When I pull my new seat in, it sits several inches higher than his.
It’s almost like I’m sitting on his lap.
“So these piles are for vet bills. This one is any registration stuff. Those are milk tonnage. And this—” He points to a five gallon bucket on the floor. “—is for anything that isn’t farm related.”
His chair creaks as he leans away to open the small fridge against the wall. “Here, brought you a treat.”
“Oh, a wine cooler?” Peach?
He shrugs. “I got beer, too.” He nods towards the desk. “This shit gets boring.” His mouth drops as he twists the tops off the bottles, then hands me the colorful one.
It tickles my nose when I take the first sip.
“Mmm, that’s pretty good.” I hold the glass away to see the label better, but catch a glimpse of his hooded eyes watching my lips.
“Keep on moaning like that, it might get a lot more exciting in here.” He flashes the whites of his teeth and winks before taking a long drink from his amber ale .
“Well, I mean, it isn’t exactly sex on the beach. But it’s passable.” I can fight fire with fire.
He snorts and pulls the bottle away from his lips. “I figured you’d like that.”
At the three-quarter mark, I start to feel the faint buzz of the alcohol.
Shit, I really must be a lightweight.
When I reach across him to try and place a ticket in the correct pile, I lose my balance on the uneven stool and barely catch myself on the lip of the desk.
“Easy killer,” he grunts as his hands move against my ribs to help right me. “You don’t have to throw yourself at me to get me to stick around.” His soft chuckle doesn’t quell the fire racing through me.
“Didn’t seem to work the other night,” I grumble.
Shit.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Snatching a small stack of notes, I turn my focus on the scribbled lines.
His palm doesn’t move from my lower back.
I can’t look at him.
But I can hear him take a deep breath before the heat of his touch disappears.
He shifts to pull another beer from the mini-fridge, then he cracks it open.
I steal a glance to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
Fuck it. I empty my own bottle .
“Got any more?” I hold it out. “I mean, since I’m legal and all.” I don’t fight to hide the smirk.
He pops the top before handing it to me.
“In my defense, you were hammered. There’s no way to win in that situation.” His nostrils flare as he watches me.
“So, I shouldn’t finish this?” I hold up my pink fruity drink.
He lifts his palm in a sign of surrender. “You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.” A flicker of a smile ticks the corner of his mouth up.
There’s a tremor in my hand as I set my bottle on the desk. “See, I don’t think that’s the case.”
His ice-blue eyes stay fixed on mine while I slowly stand.
“Why’s that?” His voice is huskier, lower.
“Because there’s a million reasons I can’t do what I want to do.” I thread my arms inside the straps of my overalls, wrapping them across my belly to try and calm the stampede that is rumbling through me.
His fingers splay on his thigh and his jaw clenches. “And what do you want to do?”
I feel light headed. Woozy.
And surer than I’ve ever been.
“You.”