7. Rosy
SEVEN
ROSY
Max surprised me this morning by appearing at my door as I was leaving, and my sleep-dazed brain invited him to ride with me to the farm. So now I’ve been stuck with him all day.
He has followed me around from chore to chore this morning, and he’s been so attentive, asking questions about the animals and their stories. He’s even given them all attention, much to my jealousy, which feels…weird. It can’t be appropriate to feel jealous of them.
He also asked me over for dinner.
My hands feel clammy thinking back on the conversation and the impending commitment for tonight.
I’d been mid-sip of my water when he blurted out that I was invited back to his flat for dinner later.
There had been no stopping the liquid going down the wrong way and sending me into a choking fit.
Which, embarrassingly, resulted in Max slapping me roughly on the back.
To which he had then said, “Well, you have to come now. Seeing as I almost choked you to death. I need to at least apologise with good food. Except I can’t cook, so I’ll have to owe Bry one for cooking it for me. ”
My throat had been burning and raw from the coughing, so I couldn’t muster the words to respond straight away. Then his hand had turned soothing, rubbing circles into my back and short-circuiting my brain as he asked about any dietary needs.
It’s now the afternoon, and I’m still not sure how I got roped into dinner with people I’ve just met.
My sleep-deprived brain has turned into an anxious, lust-filled mush.
Picking up an empty wheelbarrow, I smile at Max.
“Can you grab the fork leaning against the side, please?” I ask, pushing the barrow past the row of stables for the few ponies we have and stopping at the feed storage barn.
Manoeuvring the barrow into the space, I grab a few buckets and start shovelling feed into each of them, then stack them up on top of each other.
Turning around to Max, I smile as he stands there looking a little lost.
“If you can just hoist a couple of hay bales onto the barrow, please?” It’s a nice relief to have someone else who can help, rather than struggling to drag them on myself like usual.
Maybe it isn’t so bad having him here. I might even go home without a backache today.
“Hay bales, got it.” Rubbing his hands together, he strides over to the mountain of stacked hay and stares at them a moment before looking over his shoulder at me. “Uhh, where do I start?”
I cover my mouth to hold in a chuckle at his wide-eyed look. “If you scootch around the side of the stack, there might be a loose one on the floor. If not, then you need to climb up and grab them from the top.”
“Okay, sure. I can do that…” His response is hesitant, and I fight harder to hold back the laugh. I’m not sure he’s going to be any quicker than me struggling by myself, but it’s at least entertaining watching him looking bewildered.
“I’ve got one!” he yells triumphantly as he side-steps from around the back with a bale. He places it in my barrow and puffs out his chest.
“Okay, that’s great. Thank you. But now we need another one. If there are no more around the back, you need to climb up.” I point up at it.
Stepping up to the stacked bales, Max rolls his shoulders, then hoists himself up slowly onto the first layer.
“If you grab the bale on the stack above you, then toss it down to the bottom, I can grab it,” I call, trying not to get distracted by the view. Have his trousers been that tight all day?
How am I only noticing now?
Max shuffles around tentatively. He grips the bale string tightly; the muscles in his tanned forearms and biceps flex with his movements.
Am I drooling? Crap, I think I might be.
“Incoming!” he calls out in forewarning, then drops the bale to the floor in front of me.
I heave it up onto the barrow, next to the other bale, with a grunt. Max made it look a lot easier. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll want to come here every week and haul bales for me.
A girl can dream.
Turning back towards him, I let out a startled yelp and clutch my chest as he leaps from the top, landing into an effortlessly smooth crouch. The cocky maniac doesn’t even stumble.
He straightens and strides over to me, whilst I’m still battling my accelerated heartrate, and boops me on the nose, a confident smile plastered on his face.
“Aww, were you worried about me, cute stuff?”
I roll my eyes and bat his hand away, then spin, grab the handles of the barrow, and march out of the storeroom.
“I was just worried about the paperwork I’d have to fill in if you decided to hurt your stupid self,” I yell over my shoulder.
A bellow of laughter comes from behind me, and he jogs to catch up. “Lies. You were worried, but that’s okay. I can keep a secret.”
I shake my head, exasperated. Though I can’t help the little flicker of warmth in my belly over how much I enjoy our easy banter.
“Come on, Tarzan. We have some hungry ponies to feed, then you can swing from the trees and beat your chest.”
Arriving at the gate, I let us in, pushing the barrow through and walking down to the hay feeder.
“Uhh, Rosy…is this safe? I think the pony wants to trample or eat me. I can’t tell, but I vote neither.”
Glancing back over my shoulder, laughter erupts from my chest at the sight of Max sandwiched between Mabel and Gilly as they march after me.
Both mares have their ears back, eye-balling each other, wanting to be the first to get to the food.
Jerry, on the other hand, is charging in front of me, leading the way for us.
“Girls, give the poor man some room,” I scold them lightly. “They just want the food,” I say, trying not to laugh at Max.
“Psh, I think it’s me they’re fighting over. There’s plenty of me to share. No need to fight it out. And definitely not with me stuck in the middle.” He jogs forward, catching up, and sticks close to me as we approach the square feeder.
Dropping the barrow down, I pull a penknife from my pocket, cut the string around the hay bale, then grab the sections and put them up into the feeder. “If you can just grab some, and do what I’m doing?”
Max copies me, and we continue until the barrow is empty.
“Perfect, thank…” My words trail off as I glance up and erupt into laughter.
“What? What did I do? Have I got something on me?” Looking down, he hastily brushes the pieces of hay from his clothes.
“It’s…your…hair.” I try to suck the breath back into my lungs in between the laughter, gesturing around my own head as tears leak from the corner of my eyes.
“Here?” He misses most of the pieces lodged in his hair before finding a single straw and plucking it out. “Did I get it?” Shaking my head, I wipe the tears away with the sleeve of my jumper. “Can you help me?”
My laughter drops off, leaving behind muscles that ache from disuse. I need to laugh more.
He crouches slightly, and I step in close and start plucking out all the many pieces wedged into his hair. Honey-brown hair that’s so very soft.
Swallowing thickly, I give myself a pep talk on restraining my thoughts about a new friend. I grab the last visible piece and take a step back to check. “There, all done. I have no idea how you got so covered…”
My words trail off when I notice his eyes are locked on my lips.
“Dinner out or takeaway in?” he blurts, shoving me back into reality.
Clearing my throat, I step back and spin around to pick up the handles on the barrow.
“Definitely takeaway, less noise and people,” I quip back without hesitation, a smile settling on my face. We’ve been throwing out random ‘this or that’ questions all day after he suggested the game as a way to get to know each other.
“Sliders or flip-flops?”
His nose crinkles as he walks beside me, opening up the gate for me to exit through first. “Neither. Barefoot is much more comfortable. But if I had to choose, then sliders. No-one's keeping my toes apart.”
Laughter bubbles out at his apparent disgust. “Finally, someone else who agrees with me.”
Arriving back at the feed barn, I park the barrow off to the side, then grab a stack of buckets and load some grains into them.
A high-pitched screech has me spinning around in a panic, heart pounding. I snort at the sight. Max is wide-eyed and tense, with his arms held out stiffly and Daisy perched smugly on his shoulders.
“Daisy,” I attempt to scold through my sniggers, “you know you can’t leap on people like that. You need to at least give them warning.”
His arms drop down to his sides, some of the tension easing away. “Shit, I didn’t know it was Daisy. I just felt claws land on me, and I panicked.”
“What did you think it was, a lion?” I honestly hope that moment stays imprinted on my brain forever.
Fully back to his usual relaxed self, Max reaches up and scratches the tabby cat under the chin. “Fuck knows what it was. In that moment, I saw my life flash before my eyes. At least you were the last thing I would’ve seen.” A wink follows his words, and I can’t help my scoff in response.
Flirty, flirty man.
“Let’s go finish up the others before we end up staying late,” I instruct, putting effort into keeping my voice steady and not showing how his words hit something warm in my stomach. Grabbing some of the filled buckets, I thrust them into his hands, pick up the remainder, and quickly head back out.
I definitely need some air.
“Cats or dogs?”
“That’s a hard question. I don’t like the idea of picking one over the other. But I feel more of an affinity towards cats.”
“Knew it,” he replies smugly. A frown creases my brow, but before I can retort something sharp, he continues. “You give off cat-person vibes. Independent, watchful, and cautious. You take a bit of time to warm up and figure people out, but once you accept someone, you’re just all fluffy cuteness.”
“Don’t forget the claws,” I huff, unsure whether to preen or be insulted.
His laugh sends a warm shiver through me; the sound rich and addictive. “I would never forget about your claws, kitty cat.”
His lips quirk up in a sinful smile as he buries a hand in Daisy’s coat, offering her a scratch that has a deep purr rumbling from her. I shoot a glare at the traitor lounging across Max’s broad shoulders.
Thankfully, we reach the gate to the chicken and duck paddock.
“Should I leave Daisy out here?” he enquires. It’s warming to know that he cares for the well-being of the animals.
“You can, but they’re all used to her. She’s been around them for a few years and doesn’t bother them.” I shrug, juggling with trying to open the gate whilst holding the buckets in one hand.
A warm hand covers mine. “Here, let me.” He removes my hand and gives it a soft squeeze before he unlocks and pushes the gate open. It takes a moment for my mind to start working again, my thoughts stuttering to a halt at his touch. It’s all I seem to be able to focus on.
How can a hand placed on mine feel that intimate? Does it mean anything?
“You coming in?” he calls from inside the enclosure.
Shit. I quickly step in and shut the gate behind me. We dish out the feeds for all the girls, letting them have their dinner until Anita comes by later to secure them all for the night.
“Beach or forest?” I break the short silence as we leave the paddock and carry the empty buckets back to the barn.
“Forest. No beach. Both? Okay, fine, forest then.” His sulky expression makes it hard not to laugh and offer him both.
“I would’ve taken you for a beach boy,” I tease as I top up the food for Daisy before locking up the feed barn.
His smirk feels filthy, and it has a heat coiling low in my stomach, so I quickly drop my gaze away from him.
“I do look hot in a pair of short shorts.” He shoots me a sharp wink. “But nothing beats the forest; all those trees, the smell of nature, the quiet.” He spreads his arms out, and even though I know he’s not doing it to offer me a hug, the impulse to step into them is hard to resist.
“I agree,” I offer with a soft smile.
We grab our belongings from the office, and I lock it up behind us, then we head to my parked car.
Arriving back at our building, I turn into the car park and pull into an empty space.
With the music blasting in the car the whole journey back, Max kept the awkward silence to a minimum by singing along to every single track.
This man knows every one, even with the genres being a mismatch.
Taylor Swift? No problem. My Chemical Romance?
You bet. Oh, and the Frozen soundtrack? Every. Single. Word.
It eased my anxiety, distracting me enough that I spent most of the ride absorbed in Max.
But now that we’re here, it’s come back with a vengeance, overwhelming me with thoughts about the dinner.
I don’t think I can do it.
It’s just so imposing, so intimate, when they all know each other…and I’m a stranger they barely even know. What would we even talk about the whole time?
Stepping out of the car, we both walk over to the building entrance. My heart’s hammering so loudly, he’s surely able to hear it. I’m so absorbed in my head that I almost jump when Max’s heavy arm drapes across my shoulders as we head into the lift.
“So, dinner is going to be ready in an hour. Does that work for you, or do you need a bit more time?” With his arm still around me, pressing me into his side, his words practically vibrate through me.
Reaching forward, he presses our floor number, and the doors close.
Trapping me in a confined space with him.
“Yea-h.” My voice croaks, and I clear my throat. “Yeah, that’s fine. I don’t need more time than that. Should I bring something? Is there anything you need?”
“Nope, just your beautiful self. Bry’s got everything else covered; so don’t worry about anything,” he responds obliviously.
Don’t worry about anything?
I almost snort at that. My entire being is consumed by constant worry.
We step out of the lift together and walk down the corridor, stopping outside my door. His warm arm falls away, and I have to consciously hold myself back from swaying into him, missing that contact.
“See you in a bit! Just come and knock on the door whenever you’re ready.” His voice echoes down the hallway as he walks backwards towards his flat.
Offering a wave and a nod in response, I open my door and rush inside. I need to shower, throw on some clothes, then I can hang out with Moshi for a bit and get him sorted before I go over there.