2. Flynn
2
FLYNN
I turn off my motorbike and prop it on the stand, then swing my leg over and stare up at the sign hanging above the Wildflower Ridge Function Centre door.
I’m here to introduce myself to the new manager, but I can’t seem to make my feet move.
I might be nervous.
Scratch that, I’m super nervous.
I can’t even understand why.
I’ve only seen Abigail once and all I can remember from that encounter is that she’s gorgeous.
But surely that’s not enough to make me nervous . I see good-looking women all the time. My two best friends are objectively hot women, and they don’t make me nervous. The thought of being into either Olivia or Katie is … well, ew .
It’s not like I’m into Abigail either. She’s so far out of my league and so completely off-limits it’s laughable.
It’s that realisation that finally gets my feet moving.
I kick my boots off at the door because there’s still mud clinging to them from the farm and I know from experience Olivia will lose her shit if I track it through the building.
Abigail may not have my hide over it yet, but I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Or speed up the process of her realising I’m an irresponsible pain-in-the-ass.
There’s no sign of Abigail in the main room, so I head for the stairs at the back. My socks are quiet on the timber stairs and I knock on the open door as I reach the top, hoping I don’t startle her.
She’s facing away from me, both hands resting against the desk, her head lowered, like she’s staring at something on the desktop.
She doesn’t react to my knock. I wait for another moment. Maybe she’s just focussed on something.
I try not to spend that entire moment staring at her ass, or her legs, or any other part of her. I force myself to look towards the window at the end of the room. In the distance I can just make out the Hereford cattle in their paddock.
A shuddering sound brings my focus back to Abigail. She stands up straight, waves her hands in front of her face and takes another gulping breath, except it doesn’t sound like she pulled in much air.
Something isn’t right here.
I knock again, louder this time, then stride right into the room.
“Abigail?”
She turns to face me and the full effect of the dress she’s wearing hits me. It’s some kind of business-y style that’s fitted to her body, ending just above her knees.
The expression on her face stops me from being completely distracted by the dress though.
Abigail tries to draw another breath, but it stutters and gets stuck in her throat. Panic flashes through her green eyes, staring up at me while filling with tears.
“Can you hear me?” I ask and she nods. “Okay, just listen to my voice.” I hold out my hands, palms up. She hesitates, but places her shaking hands in mine. I lead her to the window. “You’re going to be fine, okay? Everything will be all good.”
I position Abigail in front of the window, then slip my hands free of her grasp. It’s surprisingly hard to let go.
I step behind her, but she must think I’m moving away because her hand grips my wrist and she looks up at me with those pleading eyes.
“I’m right here,” I say. “I’m not going anywhere.” I place my hands on her shoulders, hoping I’m not crossing any lines. Her body is wound so tight she’s almost quivering. I can feel every stilted breath. “What can you see?”
A shaky inhale. “Um … grass.”
I chuckle. “So much grass. I hope you like green.”
Her hands land on top of mine and she grips tight. She makes a choked sound that I’m going to claim as a laugh.
“What else can you see?”
“Pond.”
“We call it a lake for some reason, but you’re right. It’s a pond.”
Another sound I’m taking as a laugh .
“There’s some cows,” she says, her voice shaky and breathy. “Way in the distance. They look red.”
“They are red. They’re Herefords. They’re my favourite kind of cattle.”
She twists her head around to look at me. “Favourite cattle?”
“Yes, favourite cattle. I’m a farmer, we all have our favourites. We also have favourite tractors. Don’t judge.”
“Do you like He-Heffalumps because you’re a redhead?”
“Heffalumps?” I can’t help myself and a cackle bursts out of me. “Herefords, I think you mean.”
“Same difference,” she says, her voice finally sounding more normal. Her grip softens on my hands.
“And no, they’re not my favourite because I’m a redhead. They’re big and chunky and hairy. They’re cute.”
“Cute? Nothing you just described is ‘cute’.”
“I’ll take you to see the calves one day and change your mind. You know, Olivia’s parents met and fell in love because of a Hereford bull.”
“How did a bull play matchmaker?” she asks, leaning back into my hands. Her body is close enough to brush against mine and I’m going to have to end this contact before I really get myself in trouble.
“He was on the road when Violet came around the corner. She ended up in the fence, Henry came to her rescue. She never left.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“Yep. They’ve always said they fell in love that day, right there in the middle of the road.”
“If only it were that easy for the rest of us,” she says .
She’s been slowly relaxing as we’ve been talking, her body softening under my hands, her breathing returning to a normal rhythm. As she says those last words though, she stiffens again.
“Sorry,” she says, stepping out from under my touch. I let her go and she takes several steps into the room—away from me—and smooths down her dress. Her mouth curves into a bright, and entirely fake, smile. “I’m Abigail.” She holds out her hand.
I wrap my fingers around hers and let her shake my hand.
“Flynn,” I say. “Farmhand, general dogsbody, here if you need help with anything.”
“Oh, um, yes.” Abigail rakes her fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth the waves. “Olivia mentioned you. Nice to meet you.”
“Are you okay?” I can’t handle the false pleasantries. I just walked in on her having a panic attack and she’s going to pretend like everything is fine.
“I’m fine,” she says, giving me another fake smile.
“Do they happen often?”
She winces and looks away, the smile dropping from her full, red mouth.
I soften my voice. “I’m not asking to be an asshat. I’m asking so I can help you.”
“I’m fine,” she says, meeting my gaze again. There’s determination blazing in her eyes. “I have to go. Did you need something?”
I shake my head. “No. I was just coming to introduce myself. Did Olivia give you my number?”
“Yeah, I think she gave me everyone’s numbers. There’s a massive list. ”
“She likes to cover her bases,” I say with a smile. She returns it, but hers is tight. “I’ll let you get back to it then. Just let me know if you need anything. Here to help. Best to call if there’s a time crunch, though I’m not always in cell service. But I’ll get here as soon as I can, so just let me know what you need.” Wow, Flynn. Shut the hell up. “Right, okay. See ya.”
I turn tail before she has the chance to reply. I don’t need to see the look on her face as she dismisses me and my rambling.
I shove my feet back into my boots and swing my leg over my bike, stomping on the kickstart. I rev the engine and release the clutch, sending the bike shooting forward.
I need to not think about Abigail as an incredibly hot woman with an ass to dream about. I also need to not think about her having that panic attack, because it tugs at my heart in ways it definitely shouldn’t. She also clearly wishes I wasn’t there to witness it, so the sooner I can forget about it, the better.
I don’t want to mess up our working relationship. I know why she’s in town and I’ll do everything in my power not to ruin that for her, or for one of my favourite people—her daughter.