Chapter Seventeen
Laurel
Laurel did not want to get involved in whatever that was.
They were Nate’s friends.
He could deal with that.
With friends like that, who needed enemies? Why did Jess and Owen even keep Alex and Lucia around? All it seemed they did was cause drama.
Jess had fallen over herself apologising for her guest and almost pleading with her not to take it to heart.
Lucia was used to being the centre of the world, and here was Laurel, all beautiful and kind and successful, with Nate.
Laurel had protested that they were just friends, but Jess just waved that away.
A rather tipsy Jess left her at her door, Laurel reassuring her that she was okay, that it was fine, she absolutely did not care what Lucia thought.
Which was mostly the truth.
Besides, she was slightly tipsy herself, and bed was calling. Laurel kicked off her shoes and grabbed her case.
Wait.
Why were there two cases sat nicely against the door? Whose was that one?
Surely, surely, her and Nate weren’t sharing a room with only one bed? Ah, there was a blanket and a couple of pillows on the chaise lounge so one of them would have to sleep there.
Although it was very small.
Regardless, she was going to have to take her makeup off and get changed.
Oh god.
She had grabbed the first thing that had come to hand; the wine-coloured satin cami and short set Rebecca had got her.
Well, that was that then.
Laurel was tiddly enough that she wasn’t even that shy about him seeing her in those short shorts and lacy top.
Laurel pulled her phone out and called Rebecca.
‘Oh my god, why are you calling me? You should be having fun, Laurel.’ Rebecca didn’t even say ‘hi’.
‘I am. I’ve just come up to bed and wanted to talk to you,’ she said, flopping onto the bed. ‘I’m on a farm. Nate’s friends live on a farm.’
‘Uh, what do you mean? Up to bed?’
‘Rebecca, you won’t believe this. He didn’t tell me it was an overnight thing.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘We’re in a room with only one frigging bed.’
‘You couldn’t write that shit.’ Rebecca cackled down the phone. ‘You should one hundred percent jump him!’
‘Uh no,’ Laurel said, flopping back on the bed. ‘Did you and Jack have date night tonight?’
‘Aah, look at you sister-in-law, away with a handsome man and worried about your best friend.’ Rebecca was enjoying this way too much. ‘To answer your question, we did.’
‘And?’
Jack had better have got his act together and realised that Rebecca was the best thing to ever happen to him, and that he needed to treat her better.
‘We’ve booked a holiday.’ Laurel could hear Rebecca smiling down the phone.
Laurel sat straight up, shocked. ‘You have not! Where? When?’
‘October half term, a week in Spain. It was even Jack’s suggestion.’
That was amazing news. After years and years of only Rebecca going away because Jack was insistent that he couldn’t leave the farm, he’d finally realised that they needed a break. They needed family time, all together. He needed to be Jack the father, Jack the husband, not Jack the farm manager. He also needed to relax.
‘No frigging way. That’s amazing, Rebecca, I’m so happy for you.’
‘Yeah, I know. He’s really listened. We’re even going away for a weekend as well, just the two of us. He’s going to book it. It’ll be a surprise.’
‘No way. Where is your husband and what have you done to him?’ This was not the Jack she knew. It was a new and improved Jack, and Laurel was fully there for it.
Rebecca’s voice quietened. ‘After Nate opened his eyes a little bit, pointed him in the right direction, I think Jack got a bit scared I would take the kids and leave him,’ she said quietly. ‘I wouldn’t. I mean of course I wouldn’t. But it worried him.’
She had never thought Rebecca would leave her brother, but now it had been said, Laurel could fully see it. Jack, inattentive and taking her for granted, would have been oblivious.
‘If you ever did need to do that for you and the kids, I would support you, yeah? I wouldn’t be judgmental.’ Laurel followed up quickly. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I would be forever trying to get you and Jack back together, but I would be there for you.’
What sounded suspiciously like a teary sob came down the phone. ‘You’re the best best-friend-slash-sister-in-law anyone could ever wish for.’
‘I love you too, Rebecca.’ Laurel smiled.
‘Enough of that. You are staying in a room with only. One. Bed. Please tell me you took the sexy pjs?’
Laurel groaned. ‘It was the first thing that came to hand. I was in a rush!’
‘Laurel, I need you to do something for me,’ Rebecca said. ‘I need you to put on your big girl pants and get some sexy times on the go with Nate Daley.’
Laurel blew out a harsh breath. ‘Rebecca, I don’t think he—’
‘No. Stop there. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, with his greedy eyes. He’s desperate for your smile all the time, hanging on your every word. He’s taken you to meet his friends, overnight. Be brave, my girl.’ Rebecca clapped her hands. ‘Also, you really need to get laid.’
Laurel snorted a laugh. Rebecca was right.
‘But what if he doesn’t—’
‘He does, Laurel.’
‘But if he—’
‘Laurel,’ she said. ‘He does.’
She pinched the bridge of her nose and didn’t say anything. He’d told her she was beautiful. They’d had moments. The long looks at her mouth, the way his eyes tripped across her collarbone, his strong hands in her hair.
And she was just tipsy enough to ignore the fact that it was a bad, bad idea. She could have sex with Nate, once, and it would be fine. They would just carry on like normal. There wouldn’t be any awkwardness, her heart wouldn’t become dangerously close to breaking. It would be fine. Fine.
Rebecca was right. She really needed to get laid.
‘Now, go and put on that sexy satin set. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’
The door to the room opened and closed whilst she was sorting herself out in the en-suite.
‘Laurel?’ Nate called, knocking gently on the door.
‘Two minutes,’ she said back, finishing off rubbing in the moisturiser on her face. She counted to sixty, twice, to ensure that it was two minutes and she didn’t look like an eager puppy dog waiting for Nate to arrive.
When she opened the door, Nate was sat on the edge of the tiny chaise lounge that he’d made up as a bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. His pyjama bottoms sat low on his hips and there was a light dusting of hair over his bare chest. Laurel definitely did not stare.
‘Laurel, I’ve got to apologise,’ Nate said, raising his eyes to meet hers. He blinked a couple of times at her, his jaw slack. ‘You look…’
‘Yes?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and certainly, most definitely, keeping her eyes on his face. He shook his head a little, as if clearing it, and started again.
‘Fuck,’ he breathed, his eyes darting over her chest, her legs and back up to her face. He swallowed.
Come on, Laurel.
The cream carpet was plush under her feet as she took three slow steps towards him. He sat up straighter as she nudged his knees apart with her legs, coming to a stop between them. Nate was flushed and pink as he looked up at her, lips parted. His fingers slid against the softness behind her knees, and it was electric. Dragging her fingers against the stubble of his jaw, she gently urged him to standing. There was a sliver of air between them, and a deep breath would have her hardened nipples brushing his bare chest through the satin of her top. Nate’s hands tightened around her waist, and he wet his lip.
Taking the smallest step closer, Laurel pressed her hips against him and a strangled groan came from his throat. She ran her fingers across his chest and explored his collarbone, feeling how his breathing caught and juddered under her touch. Hardness grew against the bottom of her stomach and she bit her lip, looking up at him coyly. His eyes had darkened, watching her explore him with heated desire. A warm hand slipped underneath her top and pushed firmly against her back, pressing her to him.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his mouth.
‘You should probably kiss me, Dr Daley,’ she breathed.
She heard a strangled god yes before his mouth crashed against hers
It was hard and fast, his lips moving against hers, his tongue probing against her lips. She opened her lips and whimpered as his tongue pressed softly into her mouth. The kiss became deeper, more breathless, and she reached up on her toes to wind her arms around his neck, desperate to get closer to him. A strong hand slid down her leg and hitched under her knee, bringing her leg up around his waist. The friction against her thin shorts wasn’t enough and she squirmed against him. His teeth nipped at her lip before he angled her head so he could slide his cheek across hers and run his nose down her neck, breathing her in. A moan came from her throat.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you here for so long,’ he murmured against her throat.
In between hot breaths, she managed to force out a whispered, ‘Have you?’
‘So long.’ His hand was splayed across her ribs and grazed the underside of her breast with long, teasing strokes. Her back arched, wanting more, wanting anything, needing friction. He smiled against her neck and planted kisses on the length of her jaw, finding her lips again.
‘Fuck,’ he said under his breath, and she smiled as his cock twitched in his thin pyjamas. She stood in front of him, a deep breath and her nipples would be brushing against him.
‘Laurel,’ he whispered, dark eyes fixated on her lips.
Laurel placed her hands on him gently, let them glide up his chest, curl over his shoulders, up the back of his neck and into his hair. She pressed her body against his, his erection straining against her lower abdomen. His fingertips trailed her back, sensuously over her rear, slipping just under the hem of top, bringing her closer to him.
She pushed her lips to his, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, gladly given with a low groan from the back of his throat. It was urgent, hot, and she couldn’t get close enough to him.
Nate dragged his teeth across her bottom lip and turned her suddenly, pressing her back to his chest, his arm wound around her. His lips roamed her neck, one hand firmly holding her in place on her hip, the other splaying across her ribs, grazing the underside of her breast. Her back arched against him, trying to tell him that she wanted his hand, his fingers, anything, on her tender nipples. She wove one arm around the back of his neck and tilted her head to allow him better access.
Nate dragged his fingers, agonisingly slowly, across the bud of her breast, and her breath caught in her throat as he pinched it, just the right side of pain.
‘Nate.’ She cried.
‘Mmm,’ he murmured, rolling her nipple resolutely between his fingers. The other hand slid to her rear, stroking and squeezing, pulling her hard against him.
‘How do you want me first?’ he asked roughly, teeth nipping at her ear lobe, and her core clenched. Hard. ‘Fingers, tongue, cock?’
Laurel couldn’t help the whimpering.
‘Everything,’ she rasped out. She would explode as soon as he touched her. She was so wet and ready for him. Her legs trembled in anticipation.
‘Good girl,’ he whispered, pinching her nipple harder, making her jerk against him.
Good girl? God yes.
What was he doing to her? She was melting, hot and desperate, her hips rolling against his abdomen, his cock straining against her. Jagged breaths escaped his throat and she was desperate, greedy for his touch. She would beg if she had to. She needed him to touch her.
He was sliding the strap of her cami off her shoulder when he froze at the knock at the door.
‘What the fuck,’ Nate mumbled.
‘Laurel? Nate? Are you awake?’ came a muffled Jess.
This had got to be a joke. They were so close, not quite, but nearly in the middle of sex.
‘No, fuck off, we’re busy,’ Nate called harshly, hands unmoving on her.
‘I’m really sorry, but it’s important,’ Jess said through the door.
He sighed heavily and kissed her neck one more time.
‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he whispered against her skin and stalked over to the door, yanking it open abruptly. ‘What?’
‘Oh god, I’m sorry, I—’ Jess started, not knowing where to look, because quite frankly, it was patently obvious what they had been doing. Nate’s thin pyjamas did not leave much to the imagination.
‘Shit,’ he said under his breath and hid his lower half behind the door.
Laurel grabbed Nate’s zip up hoodie that was thrown over a chair and slid her arms through it, trying to calm her racing heart and bite down on her disappointment.
‘What’s the matter?’ Laurel asked, opening the door wider and giving Jess a tight smile. There was nothing she could do about her swollen, just-kissed lips and not-quite-sated glaze to her eyes.
Jess was wringing her hands together.
‘It’s Bessie the Cow, she’s got a baby cow’s leg sticking out of her and Alex and Owen are talking about pulling it out,’ she said desperately, as Laurel rushed past her. ‘Alex said not to get you, that he’d watched a YouTube video,’ she called, but Laurel was already down the stairs, through the house and out of the back door.
What the fuck did these city boys think they knew about birthing heifers? They could seriously damage her, maybe even kill her and the calf. A fucking YouTube video?
The grass was dewy and cold against her bare feet and Nate was calling her name behind her, but she couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop, not until she skidded to a halt outside the door of the stables.
Alex was giggling drunkenly, videoing the poor cow with one calf leg sticking out of her. Owen was holding the birthing chains like they were some kind of poisonous snake. Lucia was lounging against one of the stable doors, her foot propped elegantly on a little stool, looking cool, calm and fucking collected, a glass of wine in her delicate fingers.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Laurel snarled.
Owen dropped the birthing chains with a clatter.
Nate
By the time he’d pulled on a hoodie, run outside and reached Laurel, she was pulling on wellies. Owen was unfocused, a little shaky and red eyed, the alcohol clearly tiring him out.
‘Why the fuck have you got her, Jess? We had it under control,’ Alex spat.
Owen snapped to.
‘Don’t speak to my wife like that,’ he said, pointing a wavering finger at Alex. Even Lucia was standing up straight, watching Alex and Owen, wide-eyed.
Laurel swooped to pick up some chains from the floor and stroked her hand down the side of the cow, murmuring softly. True enough, there was a leg sticking out of its back end.
‘Have you phoned the vet?’ she said.
‘No, and Stapleton didn’t answer,’ Owen said, like a scolded schoolchild.
‘Fucking Stapleton. This is his actual job,’ Alex chugged on his beer and slung an arm over Lucia’s shoulders, who rolled her eyes. Huh, so much for that liaison.
‘Mr Stapleton is over seventy, and no, it is not his actual job to be on call twenty-four-seven,’ Laurel snapped. ‘Bring me the phone and the vet’s number.’
Owen scurried as fast as he could.
Jess found Nate some of Owen’s too small wellies and he forced his feet into them.
‘What can I do?’ he asked, standing not so close that the cow could kick him if she wanted to, but close enough.
‘Nothing, yet,’ Laurel said, pressing her small hands to the swollen side of the cow.
Owen emerged from the office and held out a portable phone to Laurel.
‘Here you are, it’s ringing,’ he said, chastised. Laurel wedged it under her chin, looking at the cow’s backside and the leg sticking out of it.
‘We could have done it. I don’t see what the big deal is,’ Alex muttered to Lucia.
Nate whirled on him. ‘If you don’t have anything supportive or helpful to say, keep your fucking mouth shut.’
He was done with Alex and his shit. Absolutely done. He’d had his lips on Laurel, her leg around his waist. She had wanted him, and Alex had fucking ruined it.
Alex pushed off the wall and strutted closer to him, puffing up his chest. ‘So now I can’t even exercise my right to free speech?’
‘Don’t be a dick, Alex,’ Nate said, shaking his head, but not taking a step backwards.
Jess pushed her hands through her hair and stepped between them, her back to Nate’s chest.
‘Guys, come on. We’re all tired and drunk,’ she said. ‘Let’s not get into it tonight, yeah?’
Alex sneered at Jess, fucking sneered, at one of his oldest friends and Nate wondered what had gone wrong in Alex’s life to mean that he was like this. How had he gone from carefree and lovable, to bitter and spiteful? Or had he always been like this, and Nate had just turned a blind eye? Alex’s vitriol was mostly directed towards Laurel. Was there more to the story about Alex and her in university than Nate knew about? He’d ask, but now was not the time.
‘Whatever, man,’ Alex said, sauntering back to Lucia.
She narrowed her eyes at Nate and leaned into Alex’s side, tilting her head and cocking her eyebrow defiantly. If that was supposed to make him jealous or chastised, or whatever, it really wasn’t working. He put his hand on Jess’s shoulder and turned her to face the cow, their backs on Alex and Lucia.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Jess whispered.
‘Fuck knows,’ he whispered back, training his eyes on Laurel. Owen hovered with a pair of long, clear, plastic gloves and a plastic apron.
‘Yes, the old Stapleton Farm,’ Laurel was saying to the vet. ‘Yes, I’m Bill Fletcher’s daughter.’
Bill Fletcher was famous in farming, obviously.
‘Not for an awfully long time,’ she said, her voice climbing higher. ‘But you’ll come as soon as you can?’ Laurel nodded. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
She handed the phone back to Owen who pushed it into his back pocket. Nate held his breath as he looked at Laurel, waiting for her to say something.
‘We’re going to have to deliver this calf.’ She visibly swallowed. ‘Owen, I need ropes, I need those gloves, I need those chains. I need you guys to back up,’ she said, ushering him backwards.
The cow mooed louder, obviously distressed. Whether it was because she was actually giving birth or because there were loads of people watching, Nate wasn’t sure.
Owen produced some rope and Laurel quickly made up an impressive looking harness to tether the cow to a support on each side to keep her still.
She unzipped his hoodie and threw it at him, before pulling on the arm-length plastic gloves Owen had brought. He wished she’d put a bra on under that tiny scrap of satin before she’d rushed out of the room because he could feel Alex’s dirty leer behind him. Nate turned his head and glared at him, silently warning Alex that he would kill him if he uttered one word about Laurel’s breasts.
He passed the hoodie to Jess and stepped closer to Laurel.
‘Can I help?’ he asked quietly.
‘Not yet.’ Her eyes were on the leg sticking out of the cow. ‘But I’ll need you to help pull in a bit.’
Pull? Pull what?
‘Oh, okay,’ he said. She looked up at him with a tight smile.
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,’ she said, very quietly. ‘And the last time it wasn’t a massive calf, or half as difficult as this.’
‘You can do it, it’s all good. You’ve got this,’ he said, because quite frankly, Laurel Fletcher could do anything she put her mind to.
‘Okay,’ she said, more to herself than him. After pulling on the gloves, she braced one hand against the cow’s arse.
Laurel gripped the hoof protruding out of the cow’s behind and pushed it gently back inside, her arm disappearing inside with it. Nate tried to keep his face neutral, to ignore the sucking sounds of the cow’s insides, and general disgust coming from behind him.
‘Okay, I can feel the other hoof and head. Head is the right way.’ Laurel shuffled to rearrange herself and her arm disappeared further into the cow. ‘Okay, I’ve got both hooves now.’
Nate nodded, even though she wasn’t really talking to him. ‘Good, that’s good.’
Her arm quivered as she pulled, and there, with a sucking noise, her hand came out, clutching two wet, slimy hooves. She pulled until they were both free of the cow and then rested her hands on her knees, out of breath.
‘Right,’ she said, brushing her hair out of her face and leaving a smear of cow juice across her forehead. ‘This calf is really big. Owen, do you have a winch for the chains?’
Eyes swivelled to Owen who shrugged his shoulders, wide eyes trained on the rear end of the cow.
‘Owen,’ Laurel snapped his attention to her. ‘Do you have a handle? Where did you find the chains? Bring me anything that was with them.’
She looked up at Nate as Owen stumbled off, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
‘Oh for god’s sake, I’ll go,’ Jess muttered, following her husband into the office.
‘What’s next?’ he asked her.
‘Doesn’t it just flop out now? Give it a tug and it’ll be done?’ Alex called. Laurel ignored him.
‘She needs some help because the calf is so big. I’ll use the chains, but you’ll have to help me okay?’
He wasn’t going to have to stick his hand up the cows vagina was he? Because he would, for her, but he really didn’t want to. Like, at all.
‘I won’t be able to pull it on my own, so you’ll need to pull as well, okay?’ Laurel said.
‘Yes,’ he said, nodding. Pulling was fine, he could pull stuff.
‘I’ve got this, but that’s all that was in the box marked “chains”,’ Jess said, holding up a curved metal hook.
‘Brilliant, thanks,’ Laurel said.
She wrapped the chains just above the ankles (is that what cows have?) of the calf sticking out of the cow and hooked it together tightly. ‘Here you go.’ She handed Nate the end of the chain, fitted with a handle.
‘You’ll have to tell me when,’ he said, suddenly nervous. What if he couldn’t get the calf out? What if it went wrong?
Laurel winched the little hook onto the middle of the chain and looked up at him with a determined smile.
‘It’s coming out one way or another, Nate,’ she said. ‘Pull when I tell you to.’
Her forearm tensed as she pulled on her handle, leaning backwards to get more weight behind it. No movement, but the cow made some urgent, low noises.
‘Pull,’ she ground out and he shifted his weight and pulled, gently at first. ‘Harder than that, Nate,’ she urged, and he leaned backwards, arms tense. There was a slight slithering sound and the legs of the calf pulled further out, followed by a nose and a mouth.
‘Stop!’
Laurel swiped at the calf’s face with one hand, wiping amniotic fluid out of its nose and mouth.
‘Again.’
Laurel pulled and Nate followed suit, watching as the head popped out completely. Its eyes were closed and ears stuck back to his head, covered in slime, but it was amazing.
He pulled, straining on the chain, wondering belatedly if it hurt the poor calf’s legs. They continued like this for some minutes, starting and stopping, letting the cow do some of the work, trying not to damage her. Well, at least that’s what he assumed was happening.
Laurel didn’t say a lot more other than ‘pull’ and ‘stop’ and whispering sweet nothings to the mother.
The baby slithered out some more, shoulders now showing and Laurel dropped her hook completely.
‘Pull it downwards,’ she said, pointing to the ground. ‘That’s it,’ she said when he crouched down.
Was it going to flop out onto the floor? Surely that would hurt?
The calf’s chest was out now, and Laurel was pushing and turning it down towards the ground.
‘Turn your end too,’ she commanded. Alright.
With one last pull, the calf flopped out onto the damp hay of the stables and Nate fell backwards onto his arse, also onto the damp hay of the stables.
Laurel was on the calf quickly, making sure its face was clear of all gunk and rubbing it vigorously on the chest. She grabbed its legs and started working them back and forth, making sure that everything was moving, before dragging it around by its forelegs to the head of the cow. She bent its front legs and laid the head gently on it, and then deftly removed the makeshift harness around the cow’s head.
Mum started to lick the baby, and Laurel stood back, hands on hips, satisfied smile on her face.
Nate couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he sat there, watching the newborn calf. Helping Laurel made him feel so much more alive than he had felt in a long time.
Laurel
The birth had gone well. The heifer was licking the calf, the limbs all worked fine and besides it being the biggest goddamn calf Laurel had ever seen, mum and baby were doing well. She peeled the gloves off and held her hand out to Owen for the phone. The vet answered in three rings.
‘It’s Laurel Fletcher at the old Stapleton Farm,’ she said, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.
‘That sounds like a positive birth,’ the vet said, distressed horse noises in the background.
‘Yes, everything went well, thank you,’ Laurel frowned as one of the horses on the vet’s end of the line kicked something viciously. ‘I’ll let you go. You sound busy.’
‘Mum is licking? Joints movable?’ The vet ignored Laurel’s attempts to go.
‘Yes, to both,’ she said, very aware that she was standing in someone else’s stables with cow amniotic fluid all over her, bits of hay stuck to her knees, and she was not wearing a bra.
‘Okay, I’ll come in tomorrow. Oh, today, thanks Laurel. Stapleton is lucky you were there,’ the vet said and the line went dead. She handed the phone back to Owen.
Laurel stood in the middle of the stables, unsure what she should do next, except cross her arms over her chest so people couldn’t see her nipples poking through the thin satin. It was the middle of the night, and she was cold.
There was a beat of silence.
‘Well, I think we’ve got a lot to learn,’ Jess said, putting her arm around a shell-shocked Owen.
Damn right they did.
How can you have animals if you can’t care for them properly? Laurel did her best to keep her face still, because all eyes were still on her and she did not want Nate’s friends to hate her with her raised eyebrows and judgmental looks.
‘Perhaps you can help us, Laurel?’ Jess asked hopefully. ‘Put us in touch with someone who can train us? Tell us where to go? What to do?’
Laurel nodded.
‘That, I can do,’ she said, heading for the door to the stables, thinking sarcastically that just perhaps Mr Stapleton might be the place to start.
‘Is that it? Do we have to do anything else?’ Owen asked, a little distraught at the idea of leaving the newborn calf with its mother. What did he think Penelope would do? Eat her own calf?
Laurel held in the eye roll and pasted a thin smile on her face.
‘No, mother is licking, the joints are working. We can leave them to it now.’
‘Is that what you were doing? Testing the joints?’ he asked, timidly.
‘Yeah.’ She was tired and covered in goo, and this was not a conversation for now. ‘I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’
Nate put his arm around her shoulders and edged her towards the door. He seemed eager to leave the stables, and honestly, she was as well. She’d had enough of Alex’s leering glances and Lucia’s marked indifference for one night. Besides, who knows what type of judgment or disgust would be lurking there as she stood, in all her glory, having just pulled a calf from a cow, and in the process, proved that yes, she was just a farm girl. A covered-in-cow-juice farm girl.
‘I wouldn’t get too close to her, Nate,’ Alex said loudly, a smile hidden in his voice. ‘She stinks of cow shit.’
Lucia smothered a laugh. Come on now, guys. Be better than this. Couldn’t he think of anything more original to say? How pathetic.
Nate tensed his arm around her shoulder and she could feel his anger rising. Laurel leaned into him and shook her head softly. Alex wasn’t worth it. Not one little bit. They carried on into the darkness of the garden and back to the house. Behind them, Owen had broken out of his shock and his voice rang out.
‘Alex, you are a petty, ridiculous little man, aren’t you? And you’re no better, Lucia.’
‘What the fuck do you mean by that?’ Alex shouted.
‘I’m sorry about him,’ he said quietly to Laurel.
‘Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. He’s obviously a wanker,’ she said. ‘I just want to have a shower. I am covered in cow gunk.’
Nate snorted a laugh.
‘Don’t worry about it. Hey…’ He stopped and looked at her. She was a little hazy around the edges, hair jagged and tousled, but she was beautiful with the moonlight shining just right across her cheekbones. ‘You were brilliant just then. Absolutely brilliant.’
Her shoulders raised in a little shrug.
‘It was nothing. Anyone would have done it.’
‘No, Laurel,’ he said, gripping the tops of her arms. ‘Not anyone. You.’
‘Okay, not anyone.’ What was she supposed to say to that? ‘Thank you.’
‘But,’ he grimaced slightly, ‘you do have, um, cow juice on your face.’
On. Her. Face.
‘Okay, I really need to shower,’ she said, breaking out of his grip and hurrying back into the house.
Nate followed her up the stairs. ‘I do as well. This stuff gets everywhere.’
‘Um, you don’t have anything I could wear, do you? My pyjamas are a bit icky.’ Of course, she hadn’t brought any spare sleeping clothes, because who would have guessed that Nate was bringing her to a farm where she’d have to birth a cow. Absolutely no one.
He grinned and dug a shirt from his case.
The shower was warm (not scalding) and she soaped everywhere, and washed her hair. Twice.
Jack would have been proud. It had been years since she’d been hands on (in) a cow giving birth, especially not a complicated birth of a massive calf like that one. The smile stilled on her face.
Had she been a bit strong with Jess and Owen? A bit too angry with them for not knowing what to do? No. She was in the right, and if you’re going to own animals, then you have to learn how to look after them. At least after tonight, it seemed that Jess and Owen were open to learning.
She dried herself, and pulled on Nate’s shirt, undoing an extra button. Towel drying her hair, she scrunched it to give it a messy, wet look. It wasn’t quite sexy underwear, but yes, this would work. Once Nate was done, they could pick up where they’d left off.