Chapter 5
Chapter Five
FLYNN
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, my sweet girl? You want some more?”
The low voice caught my attention just as I was about to lift the saddle onto my horse’s back. I was standing in his stall, so I hadn’t noticed or heard anyone come into the barn, but they certainly could have been there before I’d walked in.
The smooth, silky voice uttered a tsking sound. “Hold on, ladies, you’ll each get your turn,” the now very familiar voice said. I was surprised it had taken me so long to recognize it. After all, that voice had been playing a starring role in my dreams from the moment I’d stolen a kiss in what had to have been the least appropriate time in the history of all mankind.
I told myself to get back to my work, but instead, I found myself putting the saddle on the ground and caressing my horse’s sleek neck as I listened to the conversation unfold at the back of the barn. I missed most of it as the clucking became more excited, but when the owner of the voice began rattling names off, it was all I could do not to laugh. I should have just stayed put, saddled my mount and left the barn so I could follow through on my assignment, but my feet seemed to be working directly against logic.
By the time I reached the last stall in the barn, I could hear more of the one-sided conversation.
“Okay, honey, I’ve gotta go with Ginger for you and it’s not just because of your feathers. Those noises you’re making kinda remind me of this guy who used to—” The voice stopped abruptly before saying, “Well, let’s just say that despite the fact that he was built like a tank, he made all these high-pitched squeals when he… well, you know.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or punch something. I had no right to be doing either since I was eavesdropping on a conversation that clearly wasn’t meant for human ears. I had to admit, the streak of jealousy that hit me at the description of what had obviously been a lover at some point caught me off guard.
“Now, you girls be good and keep pumping those eggs out ’cause the only chickens I want to be cooking for dinner are the kind that come like God intended—wrapped in plastic and Styrofoam.”
I was so caught up in trying not to laugh, I missed the sound of my quarry abandoning his post. He opened the stall and carefully used his lime green tennis shoe to ease the eager chickens back into the space. I’d already seen that the stall had been converted into a chicken coop with plenty of nesting boxes for the hens to lay their eggs and a well-protected outdoor run that gave them space to roam but kept them confined to one area so they wouldn’t become some predator’s dinner.
“Watch those feathers, girls… remember what I told you about all the queens back in New York who’d kill for those babies?”
This time, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The young man was so startled that he let out a gasp and promptly dropped the basket full of eggs he’d been holding in one hand. The distraction let one chicken squeeze through the still slightly open door.
“Lovey, wait!”
The small red chicken didn’t even try to make a run for it except when her would-be captor tried to usher her back into the stall. “You happy?” the man growled as he eased the stall door shut and then tried to carefully grab the chicken.
“At the moment or with life in general?” I asked.
“How the hell am I supposed to make scrambled eggs for the guys who stay in the bunkhouse when at least half my eggs are broken?” The young man abandoned the basket of eggs and continued to try to catch the wayward hen. I kept my humor to myself as he let out a little shriek every time he touched the chicken and she began flapping her wings.
“So help me God, Hot Cowboy, if she gets hurt or lost, you’re the one who’s going to be pushing an egg out of your ass.”
The chicken was within a couple feet of me, so I easily reached down and scooped her up. “Now that would be a unique trait to have, Fuck You,” I said with a grin. “I think an actual tight ass would have more luck.” I dropped my eyes in the direction of the pert ass that had been haunting me for days.
“Give her to me!” Fuck You demanded, his face nearly beet red. Chasing the chicken meant he was practically toe to toe with me. He immediately reached for the chicken but as expected, the swift movement startled her, which startled Fuck You in return.
“You’re hurting her!” the young man cried out in all seriousness.
“Shhhhh, you’re okay,” I cooed to the chicken, though she wasn’t the one I was concerned with. Her champion’s reaction was over the top, even for someone who hadn’t spent a lot of time with chickens.
The chicken immediately calmed. I was holding her against my chest and gently petting her like a cat.
“Give her to me,” Fuck You said more quietly. He actually seemed disappointed… sad, even.
“Okay, since I’m tired of referring to you as Fuck You, I’m going to call you The Champion of Chickens until you decide to grace me with your actual name. As for Lovey here, I’m not hurting her. She’s flapping her wings when you reach for her because you’re not moving slow enough. Even though chickens have better vision than you and me combined, they can also be sensitive creatures. People dismiss chickens as just some dumb bird that belongs in a cooking pot, but they’re actually quite intelligent. She’s probably picking up on your anxiety, and flapping her wings is just a reaction to that. If you’re afraid of something, she will pick up on that and get scared herself.”
The Champion of Chickens stood before me like an annoyed child who just wanted their toy back. Arms crossed and expression defiant, he made no attempt to respond to my mini lesson. I reminded myself that it was a good thing that he disliked me as much as he did because it would make it all that much easier to avoid him.
“Here,” I said as I carefully transferred the bird to the young man’s arms. He seemed nervous at first, like someone holding an infant for the first time, but the more the chicken quietly clucked in his arms, the more relaxed he became.
I should have been relieved by the interaction, but as I turned to return to my horse, the muscles along my abdomen felt stretched too tight. The guy was obviously the type who gave someone one chance to make a good first impression and he’d made his decision about me days ago. “By the way, even though I like the sound of Hot Cowboy, there could be some guys around here who are just as ignorant as those fuckers in town. So if it makes you feel better to call me by something other than my real name, use something like Asshole or Prick. If you get tired of that, it’s Flynn,” I shot over my shoulder as I returned to the stall I’d been working in.
Not surprisingly, my horse was standing in the exact same spot that I’d left him. The loyal animal usually had a habit of following me around, but a simple flick of my hand had sent him the message to stay where he was.
“Time to work,” I murmured as I stepped into the stall. My horse greeted me with a soft nudge of his nose. “Thanks, buddy, I needed that.”
With that, I tuned out the sound of chickens and everything else around me and focused only on getting my horse’s feet cleaned up. I used a hoof pick to get rid of all the mud in each hoof and checked each shoe to make sure none of them were coming loose. I wasn’t someone who was caught off guard, but when I turned and reached for the saddle I’d left on the floor of the stall, I found myself face to face with The Champion of Chickens. The young man was standing just a couple of feet outside the stall, the red chicken still pressed up against his chest.
It was all I could do to ignore him as I saddled my horse. When I stepped around the chicken whisperer in order to get the bitless bridle that was hanging on a hook outside the stall, the star of my wet dreams took the opportunity to step into the stall.
“Is he friendly?” he asked as he tentatively reached out one hand to touch the stallion’s neck.
“He is,” I said simply.
I had to look away as the man’s long, slim fingers skimmed over the horse’s neck. I was in the process of examining the bridle for any leather that might have been starting to wear thin when I heard my unwanted visitor say, “The things I could do to you.”
My dick instantly responded to the husky declaration before my brain processed the fact that he wasn’t talking about me. He was stroking my horse’s long mane. It took him a moment to recognize the fact that I hadn’t made a sound or even moved, so my rampant imagination took advantage of the momentary peace and drew me a mental picture of those same long fingers sliding over my skin before eventually settling along my jaw. His fingers would caress my beard which wasn’t overly long but more than just scruff. His eyes would be on mine the whole time so he could see what his touch did to me.
Too intimate.
The silent warning returned my focus to the present, only to find that now I was the one being stared at. “I was talking about his hair,” the young man said nervously. “I was just thinking about all the colors that you could dye some of the strands. I mean, just for fun or something.”
“Well, I guess as long as you don’t use colors that remind you of some special… friend you left behind, it would be fine. He’d be the laughingstock of all the other horses on the ranch, but he knows he’s ten times as hot as any horse here, so…” I left the sentence unfinished and shifted my body so the outside wall of the stall hid my burgeoning erection. Who would have guessed that a discussion about giving my horse colorful highlights did absolutely nothing to tame my lust?
“No, that guy, the one with the ginger… it was a long time ago and it didn’t mean?—”
“None of my business,” I interjected.
My indifference should have done the trick, but the awkward silence returned. “Did you need something else?” I asked as I struggled to keep my growing need tethered. I needed the guy out of sight even if it wouldn’t get him out of mind.
“Sorry about the Hot Cowboy thing… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s not like I really meant it. I mean, yeah, you’re hot but in a straight guy kind of way,” the young man blabbered as I began putting the bridle on my horse. “Not that straight guys call each other hot or anything… I mean, maybe they do, I don’t know. I wasn’t like… trying to hit on you or something. And that kiss, you know, in the alley. I know I kissed you back and I’m sorry for that because I didn’t realize you thought I was a girl… woman. It was just… it was a highly charged moment, but it didn’t mean anything. I never even thanked you for what you did… not the kiss… the guys. I think it was really brave helping someone like that, even if you thought it was a woman you were helping.”
The young man abruptly stopped and shook his head. “Fuck, I’m not saying this right. I won’t tell anyone about it, okay? And I won’t try to hit on you or anything. It was just a stupid nickname; it didn’t mean anything. The way I was dressed that day—it’s complicated but that’s not the point.”
The poor guy was so on edge that Lovey began to squawk in his hold and even my horse turned his head to nudge his arm.
“And what happened with the laundry. I was being a dick. It was just one of those things but instead of thanking you for trying to keep me from getting hurt, I got all defensive and stupid and embarrassed. I know none of it meant?—"
I was on him before he could even finish the sentence. I caught his mouth with mine and swallowed down the rest of his words. He squeaked in surprise but within seconds he was kissing me back. His back was pressed up against my horse’s neck and he still had the chicken in his arms, so that made it a little easier to break off the kiss. “If you say it didn’t mean anything one more time?—”
“Won’t,” he blurted and then he was kissing me.
I’d only kissed him to shut him up so he wouldn’t keep marginalizing that first kiss, but I forgot about all of that when he opened his mouth under mine, inviting me in. At some point, he’d either released the chicken or she’d slithered out of his hold because his arms went around my neck. He was desperately trying to pull me down as he stood on his tiptoes.
I had to stop it. I just had to because nothing good could come of this. If I was certain he knew it would only be about sex, I wouldn’t have hesitated to take him right there in a shadowy corner of my horse’s stall. “What’s your name?” I growled against his lips when we were forced to come up for air.
“Jules,” he responded and then he was slashing his mouth over mine again. At some point, my horse had moved or maybe I’d moved him, I wasn’t sure. Either way, it allowed me to back Jules up until his back hit the wooden wall behind him.
“Jules,” I breathed against his mouth.
It fit him perfectly.
Just like he fit me perfectly.
When I grabbed his ass and lifted him so we’d be eye level, Jules automatically wrapped his legs around my waist. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, beating exponentially faster with every touch, every press of his lips against mine. It was getting harder and harder to catch my breath and before I realized it, the panic that I’d thought I’d left behind me returned with a vengeance. I practically dropped Jules, so he was forced to hold his own weight. I tore my mouth from his and backed up several paces. I bent at the waist and rested my palms on my knees.
“Flynn?”
“Don’t!” I snapped when I sensed Jules reaching for me. “Don’t touch me,” I warned. I backed away from him until my back hit the opposite side of the wall. It wasn’t until a fuzzy nose bumped my face that my senses began to return to me. I didn’t even remember how I’d come to be sitting on the floor of the stall or how long I’d been there. Jules was long gone.
What the fuck had happened? I hadn’t experienced a bout of that kind of panic for more than a year. Why now?
I looked up at the wall opposite me. The one I’d been ready to fuck Jules against.
I shook my head in disbelief.
Well, you wanted to keep your distance from him.
“Mission accomplished,” I whispered against my horse’s cheek. “Mission fucking accomplished.”