14. Bran
Chapter 14
Bran
I grab my phone off the workbench to send Pidge a quick text letting her know I might be a little late when it dings in my hand.
Me
I don’t know whether to laugh or apologize. Either way I’m a little jealous that he’s cheating on me. And a little jealous that he’s experienced the back seat of your car before I have.
Pigeon
Is that so? You know you can sit in the back seat of my car any time you want, right?
Me
Only if you’re sitting there with me, Pidge. *smirk emoji*
Pigeon
Sitting with you or…
Ooooh.
Is she flirting with me?
Is this her wanting to flirt with me?
Why won’t she finish her thought?
What is she thinking about over there?
I turn toward her shop from inside mine and peer out the window hoping to catch sight of her. To my surprise, I spot her leaning against her car with her phone in her hand. I need her to say it. Whatever it is she’s thinking, I need to hear it.
Me
Or…?
I peer down at my phone to see those three little dots indicating she’s in the middle of her reply.
Pigeon
On you.
And there it is.
Exactly the answer I was hoping for. Also, the answer my dick was hoping for, as it now stirs to life in my coveralls.
Pigeon
Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward.
What?
No, no, no, no, no.
Don’t hold back now, Pidge.
Me
Forward is good. I like forward. Do not ever apologize for forward. And if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I could keep myself from touching you if you were sitting on me, Pidge…what would you think about that?
Pigeon
Hmmm *think emoji* Depends. Are your hands clean or covered in grease from work?
Me
Always clean for you.
Pigeon
Well, that’s a damn shame, Brannon. Some girls don’t mind getting a little dirty once in a while.
“Mother fucker…”
My jaw drops wide open as I read her reply over and over and over again.
My pigeon likes to get dirty.
And she’s clearly not afraid to flirt with me.
This is a side of Paige Starling I haven’t yet seen and now that I know it exists, I’m dying to keep this conversation going. I’m intrigued to hear more of these kinds of thoughts come from her. It’s killing me that I can’t call it a night just yet because fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be able to take her home and spend the rest of the night burying myself inside her if she’d let me.
But I’ve got shit to finish here.
I don’t want to assume her flirty texts are an invitation but if there’s even a chance that there might be one in my future, I’ll be damned if I let that opportunity pass me by.
I chuckle to myself still shocked at her answer as my thumbs do all the work to reply to her.
Me
In that case, I’ve got more lube than I can manage on my own. Might need your help.
Pigeon
Right. Slippery stuff. Wouldn’t want any of it to go to waste.
Me
Careful Pidge, you wouldn’t want to give a guy the wrong idea.
Pigeon
But what if I’m giving him the right idea?
Is this a fucking dream come true or this is just a dream I’m about to wake up from? Reaching my hand down to my leg, I pinch myself to make sure I am in fact living this out in real time.
“Jesus Christ, this is real,” I mumble to myself. “She’s flirting with me. She’s coming on to me. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?”
Me
Then you’re also ensuring he spends the next couple of hours working with an uncomfortable tent in his pants.
Pigeon
Well, let’s hope that tent doesn’t last longer than four hours or you may have to call the doc. *Smirk emoji*
Me
I don’t want to be calling anyone else tonight but you, Pidge.
Pigeon
Oh yeah? And what are you going to call me?
Me
If I have my way, I might just be calling you my dirty little good girl.
Pigeon
Hmm. I like the sound of that. A quiet rainy night in with Winston’s hot dad? *fans herself* What ever will I do?
Me
Who said anything about quiet? *Kiss emoji* I’ve got a couple more things to finish here before I can get home. I’ll see you tonight, Pidge.
Pigeon
Looking forward to it. Since Winston hopped himself inside, I’ll take him with me and let him into the yard with the rest of the assholes.
Me
Thanks.
Thunder rolls and the rain pounds heavily on my windshield as I try to make my way home. I left the goats in the fenced yard when I left this morning knowing I would be home in time to get them in the barn before the rain came, but when I got held up with my last couple of cars, I completely forgot about the animals. I know I could have texted Paige and asked her to run out and help, but it’s not her job. It’s mine and I fucked up. I push down on the gas pedal just a little more trying to get myself home as fast as humanly possible without hydroplaning across the road into a ditch…or worse.
A flash of lightning bolts down from the sky in front of me, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder so loud I feel the vibrations in my moving truck. It had to have hit the huge tree on the other side of the Starling property across the street from me and now I worry about where Paige is and if she’s alright. This is the first time it has stormed since she got here and it’s shaping up to be a bad one. A strong feeling of guilt floods me for not being here with Paige when the storm hit. I could’ve helped her find flashlights or batteries or even the Starlings’ old weather radio. I know they have one because I’ve heard it before when they’ve been on their porch.
Much to my surprise, the lone streetlight between Paige’s house and mine is still glowing when I turn the corner onto my road and zoom up the hill toward my driveway. As I turn into the driveway I notice a dark shadow in the goat pen.
“Oh no,” I gasp. “What is she…” I unsnap my seatbelt and jump down from my truck into the pelting cold rain and run across the yard. The wind is stronger out here in the country than it is amongst the buildings in town. It’s almost hard to stand up straight.
“Pigeon! What the hell are you doing?”
Standing with her tennis shoes buried in the mud, her arms around one of the smaller, but still stronger than her goats, she lifts her head in surprise. Clearly she didn’t see me pull in. “Bran! The goats! I’m sorry!” she shouts above the storm, tugging at the goat with a heavy grunt. The wind flapping the small jacket she’s wearing around so fiercely it’s of no use to her. She’s soaked to the bone from head to toe. “You weren’t home and I couldn’t let them stay out in the storm!” *grunt* “They were all huddled in the corner and I knew they would get stuck in this mud!”
She grunts a third time finally getting the goat to move. “Winston is safe inside the barn but these other guys don’t know me enough and they seemed scared when I tried to help them in!”
“Paige,” I shout back at her, finally using her real name because I’ve never been more goddamn serious about something in my life. “You don’t have to do this! I’m sorry! It’s my fault! I should’ve been home and I?—”
“There’s no time, Bran!” she shouts almost to the barn. “The rain is going to keep coming! I want to help. We have to get them to safety!” In the briefest of moments, I take notice of her soaking wet bare legs sprinkled with mud, the shoes that are not boots and are definitely white no longer, and the soaked hair challenging the clip on the top of her head holding it all together. She’s a mess.
But she’s so fucking beautiful.
And in this moment, she’s an unbelievable human being.
I smile at her not understanding how someone like her so easily walked right into my life and then I nod allowing myself to accept her help because— earth to Bran, it’s storming outside —and at least she’s right here with me and I can keep her safe.
“Okay! Let’s do it!” I run through the mud where the group of six other goats are huddled near the fence and call out to them. “Come on you bunch of monkeys, let’s get you dry!” I tap one on the ass and he starts to move toward the barn, another one trailing closely behind. Paige comes running out of the barn to grab the next one but slips in the mud and falls on her side.
“Pidge!”
The two goats merely jump over her and trot themselves into the warm dry barn like it’s just another summer day on the farm. I leap across the yard to help her, my hands sinking into the mud when I almost slip as well, but Paige gets herself up and waves to me, laughing.
“I’m good!” she calls out. “I’m good! Shouldn’t have run. I’m okay. It’s just mud. It softened the blow!”
She continues across the yard to get to the next goat as her earlier text rings back through my mind. Some girls don’t mind getting a little dirty once in a while.
I don’t think this is what she meant by dirty in that instance, but hell if she didn’t just move up a notch on the attractive meter—as if she weren’t already at the very top—by not crying over a little bit of mud. Okay, a lot of mud, but still.
Together we wrangle the last four goats from the sodden muddy yard into the barn and safely lock them inside their pen. I grab some of their feed along with some dry straw for them to munch on and fill their troughs much to their delight.
Thunder booms loudly overhead, catching Paige off guard. She screams and jumps a bit but I’m right there to catch her, her hand clutching her chest. “Fuck, that was loud. Sorry.” She giggles.
“It’s alright. We’re safe in here.”
Now that the goats are squared away, and we’re out of the wind and rain, we both try to catch our breath. Paige unzips her jacket and peels it off as it’s just as dripping wet as she is. “So much for waterproof.” She snorts. “I think I’ll have to send it back.”
She laughs but then I remember she fell a few minutes ago. I take one look at her and finally see how covered in mud she is. Her right leg is coated and it continues all up the side of her where she slipped.
“Shit, Pidge, are you alright? Are you hurt?” I try to check over her body for any type of scrapes or bleeding though the only light we have is the glow of the streetlight from outside and that’s not much here inside the barn. “You’re a mess. I’m so sorry. We should try to get you cleaned up. We could make it to the house if you want to run.”
She shakes her head, her smile widening. “No, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m with you, aren’t I?” Her wide brown eyes stare back at me and suddenly I’m falling for her. Harder than I ever expected.
“I’ll always keep you safe, Pidge.” I’m aware I just promised her something I have no business promising anyone, but right here in this moment, all my thoughts are blowing away in the storm.
All I see is her.
All I want is her.
I cup her face with both of my mud-covered hands and crash my lips against hers. Her lips are soft and yielding as she sinks into me, her hands grasping my biceps before grabbing onto my coveralls. She tastes of strawberries and melon, clearly whatever gum she was chewing earlier, and I ache to get lost in her softness, her tenderness, for as long as I can.
Thunder booms outside again and I respond with an intensification of this kiss. Bringing a hand down around her lower back I pull her tighter against me, my arousal more than evident between us, my tongue dipping between her lips, tasting, taking what I want from her.
What I need.
What feels good.
Paige moans against my mouth in between moments of catching our breath. “Mmm God, why are you such a good kisser?”
“If I’m a good kisser it’s because you made me this way, Pidge.”
She quietly pulls away, her lashes lifting to reveal a sultry stare. “Is that so?”
“Mmm. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to do so much more than kiss you.”
I kiss the spots on her face that aren’t covered in mud as she trails her hands down my chest. She tugs on the zipper to my coveralls and pulls it down to my waist causing my dick to stir…as if it hasn’t been standing at the ready for several minutes. I slide my arms out of the sleeves revealing the tight black tank top I’m wearing underneath.
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you want to do to me.”