Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Holly
“So, I just stick my arm … underneath them?” I reach a hand out, eyeing the hen hesitantly.
Her beady eye never falters and doesn’t leave my hand the closer I inch to her belly.
“Do chickens blink?” I whisper over my shoulder, and when I turn, Grayson is still by the entrance to the coop with his back pressed against the screen door.
He had freely walked in the pen with several giant horses, so seeing him practically cowering in the corner, away from the half dozen or so chickens that are lingering has me ripping my hand back, tucking it safely to my side.
“Wait, why am I over here, ready to steal eggs from some helpless chicken, and you’re all the way over there? ”
He shrugs one shoulder, a nonchalant move, but the expression on his face doesn’t match. “This one is better if you go on your own, I think. The two of us would probably scare the hens.”
My jaw pops, and I smirk, tilting my head as I take a few paces across the coop toward Grayson. “Don't tell me the big bad Grayson Hart afraid of a little ol’ chicken?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Hardly. Like I said, just want you to get the full experience.”
"I think I smell your fear."
"That's chicken shit you smell, sweetheart."
“Promise?”
His gaze falls back on me as the corner of his mouth twitches.
I love that he won’t lie to me about it, but I love more that this tough mountain of a man might actually be terrified of a chicken.
When he doesn’t answer, I let my gaze fall around the room.
Most of the chickens are in the outside pen, having scattered out there after we threw them some scraps that were leftover from yesterday’s meals.
A few are still perched on the horizontal bars that line the far wall, and the smallest ones scratch along the floor, likely searching for treats.
I spy one with pretty auburn feathers standing nearby, watching, curiosity getting the best of her.
I take a tentative step forward, reaching an arm out to her just like Grayson taught me for Maple.
I’m not sure if chickens work the same way, but it can’t hurt to show her I’m a friend.
“So, you’re saying,” I begin, taking another step toward the chicken.
Once I’m within a foot, I slowly crouch down, keeping my hand in front of her so she can see I’m trying to reach for her.
“Holly,” Grayson warns, his normally gravelly voice is a little less firm than he’d like.
I reach for the chicken and curl an arm around her back.
She clucks a little, but doesn’t try to peck at me, and when I take my other hand to grip her by the opposite side, she lets me.
I lift her up, surprised at how light she is, and I tuck her safely to my chest before looking up at Grayson.
“So, you’re saying,” I coo, taking another step toward him.
“If I walked over there with this pretty girl in my arms, you wouldn’t be freaked out? ”
I take the next step toward him, and he tries to move back, but he’s already pressed up against the wooden door that leads from the coop to inside the barn. I tsk under my breath, faking my own bravery as I take another step in his direction.
“Is it the claws? Or is it her beak? I’d like to know what makes Grayson Hart so terrified.”
He pushes out a breath, another attempt at false bravado.
“I’m not scared, babe.” My stomach tingles at the slip of the word “babe.” A pet name from Grayson is like a branding, one I desperately want to bear.
“It’s just…” He exhales roughly. “They have three sets of eyelids, did you know that? Three fucking sets. It’s not right. They’re like aliens.”
I burst out laughing at that, loud enough that it causes the chicken to freak. She clucks loudly with her feathers flapping wildly and I try to hold onto her, my hands following her into the air as she flies up and away.
Grayson leaves his post from beside the door, rushing to my side, and when I expect him to hide me behind him, the man cowers, actually cowers against my side.
His hands grip my shirt near my hips, and I laugh, resting mine on top of his.
“There is no way you are hiding behind me!” I yelp.
“Are you trying to sacrifice me to the birds?”
His hands lower to my hips, and with a firm tug he walks us backward out of the coop.
“How dare you.” He scoffs playfully. “I’m trying to rescue you from an attack, and you accuse me of—” He flinches at the sound of a second hen flapping her wings, and I laugh again, pulling us both to the door and opening it up.
He quickly latches the lock behind us, turning to face me, and immediately throws his head back. “Dammit, we didn’t even get the eggs.”
“I still can’t believe it. You teased me for being terrified to ride a horse. A horse is a beast, they weigh like, what, hundreds of pounds? And you’re scared of a little chicken?”
Grayson crosses over the concrete floor, lifting up the lids to a row of plastic bins along the wall.
“Horses don’t have beaks, for one.” He finds an empty bucket and a scoop, dipping into one of the cans.
“And horses are like people. I told you. You can tell what they’re thinking, I swear.
Chickens, nope. Nuh-uh. You think they’re friends and then they try to peck at your feet.
” He dishes out a few scoops of what looks like corn from the bigger can into his bucket before tossing the scoop back in and replacing the lid.
“I don’t think chickens would eat toes.”
“Walk in there with your pretty painted toes on display, and tell me otherwise.”
My eyes bulge, and I freeze, because no way in hell would I do that. He puts a finger up, nearly poking me in the nose. “See,” he says, tapping my nose once. “You’re just as scared as I am.”
He reaches for the door behind me, and I reach out, wanting to see what’s in the bucket.
“We’ll give them some corn to distract them. The ones from outside will likely hear the noise and come racing in, but it should buy us time to get the eggs and get the hell out of there.”
I reach for the wicker basket that we had left sitting on a stack of feed outside the coop. “You’re acting like this is an undercover mission. It’s chickens, Grayson. If I didn’t live in an apartment, I might get myself some.”
With his hand resting on the latch that opens the door, his head cocks to stare at me. “You want to own chickens?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I’m not a hundred percent opposed.”
“Alright, city girl.” He hands me the bucket of corn, reaching to take the basket from my opposite hand. “You’re on corn duty. Just toss handfuls around the barn, watch all fifty hens and the mean ol’ rooster come for ya. Just don’t come crying to me when they flock over you.”
Tugging the bucket from his hand, I shake it once. “Challenge accepted.”
He swings the door open, ushering me to go first. I step over the threshold, careful not to trip on the concrete lip.
There are only a few chickens in the barn, with the one greedy lady refusing to leave her nest. “Come here, baby,” I coo to the smaller chicken I had held earlier.
“I got some food for you.” I reach my hand into the bucket, running my fingers through the cool corn.
Taking a hearty handful, I scoop it out, bending to make a small pile on the floor.
My friend scampers over, happily clucking as she plucks at a piece of corn.
“Cute,” he says. “But you need to feed everyone.”
I raise a cocked brow in his direction, and I reach into the bucket for another handful. With a shrill whistle that echoes off the walls of the coop, I call out, “Yoohoo, come and get it!” And I fling the corn, letting the pieces rattle off the walls.
Hoards of chickens push through the small opening that leads to the outside pen, pushing past one another and calling out, clucking as they fight for each piece of corn.
I toss handful by handful, laughing a little as they crowd around me.
It reminds me of feeding pigeons in the park or ducks by a lake.
It’s a little unnerving at times until you realize they just want the food in your hand.
So as long as you keep giving it to them, everyone stays happy.
Grayson watches while he’s still glued to his corner of the room. When the bucket is nearly empty, I take a few steps closer to him. He sticks a hand out, catching the look in my eyes. “Don’t you dare,” he grumbles as his hand reaches for the bucket. “Don’t you dare, you little shit.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I tease, and then I fling the bucket, holding onto the lip with both hands so it jerks and corn sprays across Grayson’s boots.
The chickens go wild, running over to him, and he yelps, hopping from one foot to the other as he reaches for me.
He pulls me in front of him, his grip firm on my biceps, and he escorts us out of the coop as he uses me as a human shield.
I giggle, trying to shake the dust from my bucket onto him, but he wraps one thick arm around my waist as he pulls us toward the door, nearly tripping over me as he exits.
Once he has the door safely latched behind him, he leans against it, his chest rising with heavy breaths.
“Oh my gosh,” I cackle, nearly tearing up from what I just witnessed. “That was … that was absolute perfection.”
He stalks toward me, his look a mix of something playful yet dangerous. In two strides, he reaches me and pushes me against the wall. His hands grip my hips, and I tilt my head up, making sure to keep a smile on my face. “You’re in so much trouble,” he grumbles, and my body heats.
I tilt my chin up in his direction. “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?” The burning expression on his face has a thousand images flooding my mind.
Images of him bending me over one of these big bins filled with corn or the wooden gate that’s behind me.
I’ll bet he’s strong enough he could hold me up against a wall with my legs wrapped around that glorious thick waist as he fucks me.
His strong calloused hands sliding across my stomach, ripping my pants down.
His ragged voice whispering dirty words in my ear.
My thighs clench together and my body arches into his, practically begging for him to dole out the punishment he so casually threatened.
The playful side of him disappears, and I notice my smile has fallen as well.
My breaths come out a little choppier now.
I told him I was a mess, that I wasn’t ready for much, that maybe we could just be friends.
But everything I’m imagining right now, I see reflected back in his eyes.
And yeah, I think he’d let me be more than just a friend.
An arm comes up to rest on the wall behind me, and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, practically begging him to kiss me.
“That's quite the blush you've got, Dr. Carrington.” Grayson's voice is hushed as his head dips down next to my ear. Not one part of him is touching me, yet I feel his body everywhere. I squirm, my hips taking on a mind of their own and arching toward him.
One of his calloused fingers reaches up to swipe a strand of unruly hair from my face, and his hand slides to rest under my chin.
“Hey,” a gruff voice calls out, causing me to jump.
Grayson pushes off of me and turns over his shoulder the same time I step to the side, seeing Lukas standing at the main barn door.
“When you two are done dicking around, we have work to do.” He takes one look at me, going from my hair all the way down to my boots, blowing out something that sounds a lot like “nice boots, princess” under his breath.
“Pops wants to see you out in the west field.”
The heat I felt just a few seconds ago vanishes, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“We’ll head out,” Grayson replies.
Lukas doesn’t respond, doesn’t nod, just turns to leave, letting the door slam behind him. Grayson turns toward me, noticing the sudden change in the air. “Sorry about him. He’s been an ass lately.”
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing the bucket that I had dropped on the floor and resting it on a nearby bench.
“No, it’s not okay,” Grayson says, leaning down to catch my eye. “He was rude, and he’ll hear about it, alright?”
I nod once, letting my arms fall and shimmying my shoulders to shake off the nerves. Grayson places a gentle hand along my back, leading us out of the barn. “I like your boots, by the way.”
With my gaze down at my feet, I chuckle at his attempt to comfort me. “I’m a city girl, there’s no doubt about that. I stick out here like a sore thumb.”
He stops me with a grip on my elbow, spinning me to face him.
We’re so close my breasts nearly brush against his barrel chest as he breathes.
His gaze is serious with his crystal-blue eyes locked on mine.
“You’re a city girl, yeah, but it’s not something to be ashamed about.
I like the way you dress,” he continues, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.
“I liked that pink top you had on in the clinic, and these tight jeans…” he trails off as his gaze tracks up and down my body.
“I like the way you dress, all pretty and dainty. Makes me think of all the ways I want to dirty you up.”
It’s my turn to suck in a breath, and my face heats as a smile breaks out on his when he notices my reaction. He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “Let’s go check on Pops.”
We’re two steps away from the barn door when he slows his pace, looking over his shoulder as he seemingly thinks. “Should make you ride a horse out there for that little stunt you pulled.”
I stop abruptly, my feet skidding along the dirt. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He laughs, squeezing my hand twice as he juts his head toward his truck that’s parked outside the main house. “Better be careful who you tease around here, city girl.”