25. Jude
Jude
I swear I was trying to pay attention to Issy’s tour, but my eyes couldn’t help but focus on Harlow as she smiled and nodded along intently to a description of the alpacas’ natural habitat.
She was doing a better job of representing the council than I was right now.
I was utterly distracted as she walked ahead of me.
I’d almost kissed Harlow Spencer.
The woman who had accidentally waltzed into my life and now had my thoughts constantly orbiting around her like the sun. She was my co-worker, she lived in my house, and she would be leaving soon. But I was running out of reasons not to kiss her.
And if Isabella had come back from the barn just a minute later, I would have.
Her black leggings were skin tight, stretching over her luscious hips as they swayed back and forth, hypnotizing me as she walked.
Her oversized sweater had my town’s name written across her chest. And her loosely pinned back dark hair had strands swishing from the wind that blew gently through the paddock.
The mud was just the cherry on top. Proof of her letting loose and enjoying herself. And then there was the dirt on my jeans, matching that on her front, from pressing up against her.
My brain couldn’t handle Harlow Spencer like this. My thoughts were obsessive. I probably shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery under these conditions.
“And that’s it,” Issy announced, snapping me back to the present.
“It’s amazing,” Harlow replied, pressing a hand to her chest. “Thank you so much for showing us around.”
“Everything looks great,” I added. “I’ll send over a contract for the festival.”
“Perfect! You guys are so sweet. Well, I have to head off—if I don’t get to the general store soon, Whit is going to sell out of chili. So, I’m going to lock up, but you guys are free to hang around for as long as you’d like.”
Harlow went to give her a hug goodbye, but quickly stopped herself as she remembered the mud covering her. I just stood back with a fist pressed to my mouth to hide my grin. We waved as she drove off to town in her green Toyota Tacoma, leaving us alone on the farm shop’s porch.
“That was amazing!” Harlow fawned as we walked back over to my truck.
“So, you’re not afraid of the alpacas anymore?”
She scoffed. “I was never afraid, just cautious. Something you should know all about.”
I barked out a laugh as I lowered the tailgate. “I’m cautious about the things I care about. Not about being pushed over by a five-foot tall alpaca.”
She stuck out her lower lip and pouted. “Maybe I care about not getting trampled into the ground.”
I appraised her body slowly. “It looks like that happened anyway.” Before she could reply, I grabbed a blanket from the backseat and laid it out on the truck bed. “Sit.”
She raised a brow, but sauntered over and jumped up into the back of my truck. “Too muddy for the passenger seat?”
I nodded back, lost in her eyes. Whatever she said sounded like a good enough reason to be leaning toward her, like a rope was pulling me in.
I hadn’t stopped to analyze what I was doing, I just wanted—no, needed—to take care of her.
I liked seeing her have fun, I could stare at that dazzling smile of hers for hours.
Something inside me just wanted to make sure she was tended to afterward.
And maybe a primal part of my brain that wanted an excuse to put my hands on her, too.
Yeah, I shouldn’t be thinking like that.
I should slow down and rationalize the whole situation. Harlow had been living under my roof for almost a month, which meant her contract in Autumn Creek was about half way done.
October 26th.
My infatuation with her had an expiry date.
Harlow was too shiny and bright for a small town like this. I’m sure she had bigger, better, and more exciting things to move on to.
But that couldn’t keep her out of my head.
“Here.” Her fingers grasped the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted. My breath caught as she raised the fabric over her breasts, revealing a tight tank top underneath. She threw the navy sweater over her shoulder into my truck bed. “That’s like most of the dirt gone.”
My gaze was half-lidded as I shrugged off my own flannel shirt, turning it inside out. I poured some water from my bottle onto the clean side of the fabric.
I should be taking better care of her than this, but it would have to do for now.
“Your jeans are pretty muddy.” Harlow laughed as I stepped closer to the space between her parted thighs.
“Trying to get me to take them off?” I smirked as I pressed the wet fabric to the side of her neck, swiping away some mud. She shivered beneath my touch. “Too cold?”
“No and no.” She blushed fiercely, but her body shuddered as I wiped away more. After a few moments of thick silence, she added, “You have to let me help you as well.”
I nodded, not able to speak as she started brushing the dried mud down on the side of my abdomen, before pausing at my belt.
Her hand sat firmly on the side of my body. I swallowed dryly, stretching my neck to look up at the sky as I sucked in a slow breath. It didn’t calm me down. Not enough. It didn’t stop my cock from pressing against the fabric of my jeans either.
I returned to rubbing my flannel shirt across her cheek. Focus on cleaning, nothing else. But the fabric was ripped from my grasp. Harlow grabbed it and took my jaw in her hand, pulling me closer.
“Your turn,” she insisted, slowly cleaning my face with the hand that wasn’t holding me still.
Her grip was firm but it would take one push for me to get out of it. But of course, I didn’t want to do that. Instead, I gave in, shifting my weight to my hands on either side of her thighs.
I kept my vision locked firmly on her eyes. A beautiful rich brown, like the smooth mocha syrup at Sweater Weather. And I kept my hands gripping the edge of the truck bed as she worked. Holding it tightly to focus my thoughts on anything but her soft touch on my rough skin.
“All clean.” She leaned back a few inches. “Mostly.” She lazily raked her eyes over my face. I couldn’t help but smirk again, as I caught her checking me out. Did she think she was subtle or was she just lost in the moment as well?
Then her gaze met mine, and suddenly I was sputtering out the first few words that came to mind. “You should come to my hockey game this week.”
“You play hockey?”
“Yeah, of course. But I mean, this is an Autumn Creek thing.” My voice was gravelly. “There’s always a Thanksgiving charity game in the first week of October.”
“Sure. I’d love to.”
I exhaled and stepped back, just an inch, surveying the woman in front of me. So fucking beautiful, and looking much more relaxed than she had when she’d turned up in Autumn Creek.
I dragged my eyes over her, as she brushed the damp flannel over her legs, and slowly asked, “Do you want my help, Harlow?”
Her lashes fluttered. I shouldn’t be asking to get closer to her. She was temporary, and I didn’t want anything casual. But maybe for her I could force myself to make an expectation.
She placed her hand on mine, where it gripped the truck, and peeled it from the metal. Then she placed it on the expanse of skin, where her neck met her shoulder.
“Maybe I do.”
Her skin was hot beneath my touch, and my other hand landed on her thigh. Nothing but the thin fabric of her leggings between us, as I brushed off some dirt.
“Maybe?”
“Help how?” Her voice was now nothing more than a whisper.
“You seemed a little flustered after falling over.” A smirk crossed my face as I squeezed the curve of her leg. “Let me help ease the tension.”
Her eyes dropped to my lips and then moved up again. “What if I’m not here forever, Jude. Are you sure?”
I leaned in even closer, my hand on her shoulder slipping down to her back, pulling her toward me. She craned her head up to face mine. There was barely any room for the breeze between us, and slowly my lips brushed over hers as I replied, “Positive.”
Her breathing hitched, and I pressed in farther.
She moaned at the contact, and it set my heart ablaze.
Hungrily, I moved against her. Harlow Spencer’s lips felt like velvet.
She tasted faintly of cinnamon, vanilla, and apple cider.
Bramley apple cider. That she drank in my house, under my roof, on my farm.
The realization pushed me further. I claimed her mouth with mine. Her hand clawed at my bicep, while the other pulled at the collar of my shirt, dragging me in.
My grip slid lower down her back, caressing her and savoring the patches of bare skin between her top and the waist of her leggings. I wanted more. More of her silky skin against mine, more of her breathless moans, and more of her losing herself against me.
She shuddered and ground down against my thigh, and a rough sound left my mouth.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” I didn’t think it was possible to hold her any closer, but damn it, I tried to. Her lips were desperate against mine, and I was gripping her like she was going to be ripped away from me.
Until my phone buzzed in my back pocket, and Harlow paused at the sound. I took the opportunity to pepper kisses down the side of her jaw and then her neck. She softened, huddling closer as the cold air prickled against her exposed skin.
Then my fucking phone buzzed again. And again.
I groaned into her shoulder and stepped back, exasperation taking over my features. I wanted to throw the damn device into the alpaca field and let them trample it. But I should really pull myself together and just pick it up.
“What?” I barked into the speaker.
Colt’s laughter came through the other end. “What’s got you all riled up?”
I huffed and rounded the truck to lean against the door. “What do you want?”
“There’s trouble with the apple press. Dawn mentioned you had the rest of today off, can you come help with it?”
I pressed a hand against my forehead. That wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my day off. Originally, I had wanted to go on a trail hike. But now my plans had changed. I wanted to drive Harlow back to Bramley Farm, carry her up to my room, and ravage her.
I was desperate to finish what I started.
But the farm needed me.
“I’ll be there soon.” I sighed and hung up the phone before Colt could reply. When I looked up, Harlow was standing there with flushed lips and her sweatshirt thrown over her shoulders.
“Back to the farm then?”
“Yeah.” I opened the passenger door, letting her jump in before I went over to my own side. “Can I drop you anywhere on the way back?”
She shook her head, and I saw her press her muddied legs together tightly. “Nah, I need to clean up.”
I nodded, biting the inside of my lip hard as I pictured her scrubbing off the rest of that dirt in the shower. I should be there, cleaning her, then pinning her against the tiled wall. But that wasn’t my reality.
“Home it is then.”