Chapter 13 Grace
Chapter thirteen
Grace
Oh my god, I was going to die.
Everything hurt and not in a good way. My back ached. I was covered in mud. I stunk. Sweat trailed down my spine and into my underwear. And to top it off, I was hangry. I’d passed hungry a few hours back and despite the PB&J sandwich Cole and I shared, I was ready to eat a horse.
But I kept my complaints to myself. I’d assured Cole time and time again that I could do this, and I wasn’t about to back out.
“Can you grab the hammer from the truck?” Cole called out.
He was kneeling beside one of the troughs, caked in mud and God knows what else. Overhead birds squawked, and all I could smell was cow shit. Doing farmer things was certainly not for the light-hearted and not for me.
I handed him the hammer and stepped back.
Barely sixty feet away was a herd of cattle who seemed completely unfazed by us being there, but I wasn’t.
Every time one moved toward us, I felt my spine stiffen.
Cole assured me they were huge but harmless but the horns on their heads didn’t scream friendly giant.
“Ah fuck!” Cole swore and I spun back to look at him.
He stood up nursing his hand with bright red blood coating his fingers.
“What happened?”
“The wrench slipped, and I sliced my finger.”
“Give me a look,” I instructed, making it sound like I knew what I was doing.
He pulled his hand away and I almost vomited. He’d cut it and it was pretty deep. Blood was everywhere, but it was the dirt and other grime I was more worried about.
“It’s not that bad,” Cole dismissed, but his jaw was pulled tight.
I left him standing there and went to grab the water bottle.
“There’s a first aid box under the seat,” Cole told me.
Five minutes later, with his hand washed and bandaged, we were both staring at the half-finished trough. We couldn’t leave it like this. It was empty for a start and animals relied on it.
“I’ll call Zane,” Cole resigned, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“Wait!” I cut him off, putting my hand over his screen.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can do it,” I declared.
“Grace, it’s fine. I don’t expect you to …”
“I know you don’t. But if you can tell me what to do, I’ll do it.”
Cole didn’t look convinced, but I was stubborn. If I was going to be here, I wanted to contribute something more substantial than fetching a hammer and running away from the cows.
I watched as a wicked smirk crossed Cole’s face. I wanted to ask him what it was about but held back. “Okay then.”
I grabbed the wrench and kneeled beside the trough. I wasn’t as tall as Cole and it was awkward leaning over. My boob was squashed against the side of the trough, but I was doing this.
“First thing you need to do is loosen that nut,” Cole instructed.
It took forever.
They were so tight. My arms ached but I bit my tongue and kept my complaints to myself. Somehow, I did it.
I pushed to my feet, my knees feeling like Jell-O under me. When I wobbled, Cole grabbed my elbow, steadying me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered vaguely, not really sure what that was.
“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed,” Cole suggested, and I snorted. “What’s so funny?”
“Look at me,” I told him as I spun in a slow circle. “I’m caked in cow shit, and you’re calling me pretty girl.”
“What can I say, I like you dirty,” Cole shrugged with a mischievous smile.
“You’re incorrigible!”
“You’re beautiful,” Cole reaffirmed as he prowled toward me.
I backed up.
We kept up our dance until my back pressed against the truck with Cole’s arms caging me in.
“Nowhere to run now, Grace.”
“Who said I was running?”
“You’re full of surprises, you know that?”
“How?” I asked. My whole life I’d been told that I was an open book.
“In a million years I would never have thought you’d have a smile on your face while you were doing farmer things,” Cole taunted.
That hit home. The truth was, neither did I.
I worked in the city. Pencil skirts and high heels were my uniform.
Mimosa brunches and Friday night cocktails were a weekly staple.
But until this moment, I hadn’t realized that those things weren’t really me.
I did them. I enjoyed them. But maybe something was missing.
I draped my arms over Cole’s shoulders as he grabbed my hips. “I had fun,” I confirmed.
“You looked like it,” Cole agreed.
“Maybe I should do more farmer things?” I suggested.
“Or …”
“Or?”
“Or maybe you could do this farmer instead,” Cole offered as he bent down and sucked on the pulse point in my neck making me groan.
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
A moment later, I was in the truck and we were bumping down the dirt track back toward the house.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over at Cole.
He was gorgeous. With his hard-set jaw and determination etched on his face. His hand rested dangerously high on my thigh, turning my normally smart brain to mush.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
Cole’s words didn’t give away anything, but I was happy to go along with him. He wasn’t about to let me down.
I gulped. “Thank you,” I began, needing to say something.
“What for?” he asked, turning to look at me and slowing.
“For letting me spend the day with you. I know you would’ve got things done much faster without me tagging along. And probably with fewer accidents, too.”
“Grace, you never have to thank me for spending time with you. If I didn’t want you out here with me, I would’ve said. And as for my hand …” Cole reached down and tangled his fingers with mine. “My day’s work isn’t done until I’m bloody, bruised, or aching.”
“That can’t be true!” I protested, hoping he was exaggerating.
“Yesterday, a cow stepped on my foot and my toe is probably broken. It’s definitely a nice shade of purple.”
“Cole!”
“I’m fine,” he brushed it off. “It’s just how it is out here.”
“Or maybe you’re just clumsy,” I countered.
“Maybe. But you know what I am good at?”
There was mischief in his eyes as he slowed his truck to a halt and jumped out leaving me confused.
I slid behind the wheel and bumped through the gate, coming to a stop on the other side and waiting for Cole.
He latched the gate and climbed back in, bending over and placing a soft kiss on my cheek before focusing his attention back on the wheel.
I waited a minute for Cole to finish his story, but he stayed stubbornly silent.
“What were you going to say before?”
“Before?”
“Before you opened the gate. You were telling me what you’re good at,” I reminded him.
“You need me to tell you?”
“Yes!” I huffed, exasperated.
The truck rolled to a stop outside the barn. “I could tell you or …”
Cole slipped out of the truck and offered me his hand. “Or?”
Cole lifted me out, sliding me down his body. “Or I could show you,” he finished before crushing his lips down on mine.