Chapter 24
Now that all the trees are standing empty, it feels like we all have time to breathe again.
While there’s always work waiting to be done, it doesn’t carry the same urgency as the cherry harvest did.
At the end of the last week, my sisters packed up their families to head to their homes and enjoy some normalcy.
As a result, the farmhouse feels a lot emptier, but quieter too.
I use whatever time I can sneak to study.
However, Dad keeps seeking me out, asking me to go over pages and pages of accounting and comparisons between this year’s harvest and the last with him.
In the evenings, when Micah and I fall into bed together, I always feel a twinge of worry that he’ll bring up wanting to return to Bonham now that the harvest is finished.
But then we find something new to try out and we both forget about driving back to the Nook while straddling each other.
It’s incredibly selfish, but for the first time I wish summer would never end.
Which is why I take my time sweeping out the barn while Micah tells me about his part of the week.
Seeing his eyes shine as he talks about helping my dad fix the fence and learning more about the equipment, as well as our animals, takes some worry off my shoulders.
I'm even forgetting about the ache in my thighs and ass from taking two of Micah’s fingers the other night; our newest experiment.
Thinking about it lights a soft warmth in my chest that threatens to spill into my cheeks.
Hoping to hide it, I pick up the thermos from the side table amidst single working gloves, almost empty rolls of wire, and other knickknacks.
It's still heavy, promising some leftover coffee, so I shake out two tin mugs to evict any straw or stray spiders before I pour coffee into them.
Thankfully, it's still hot enough to steam.
I pass the first cup to Micah, then empty the rest into mine, raising it to toast.
“To still not being sick of farm work, I guess.”
“Aw, you know I’m happy to help.” Micah inclines his head with a smile and clinks our cups together gently before also taking a sip.
“Honestly, though, thanks. Mom and Dad are so lucky you had time.”
“Anyone would be lucky to have a big, strong man there to help them, clearly.” Micah grins over the rim of his cup as he inhales the rich aroma.
His eyes slide closed at the first sip, the sight stirring up butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
Damn him for looking this good while being insufferably smug.
“Anyone?”
“Anyone!” he insists, putting his cup down so he can cross his arms in front of his chest. His muscles bulge as he shows off, his lips still curled with that cheeky smirk that only grows when he sees me drag my eyes up.
It’s not my fault that his chest is much closer to my eye level!
Letting out a huff, I set the thermos and my cup back down, turning from the work table fully toward Micah. The closer I get to him, the more I have to tilt my head back to make eye contact.
“Even me?”
“Duh?” His grin doesn’t twitch. The scent of coffee wraps around him, mixing with the smell of spice that always surrounds Micah.
“Uh-huh, right.” I don’t know why it bothers me right now that Micah teases me about this.
Maybe because when we first started this, it…
was kind of nice that he thought I was the more experienced one?
That I got to hold the reins for once, unlike the other guys I was chatting with, who expected someone meek.
Even Colin.
But this is Micah, I tell my stupid brain. He’s just teasing me. The fact that it’s getting under my skin means it’s working, which is probably why he’s keeping up his act—and feeling doubly smug about it!
“Mhm, yeah, you’re right. I was just waiting for a strong, handsome man to stroll into my life.” I nod, reaching out to innocently rest my hand on his hip.
Micah’s smile is blinding when I join in on his game. “Oh, I dunno about handsome, but you're right, I am str—WHOA!”
I use his distraction to slide my hands from his hips to his thighs.
Grabbing him tightly, I step forward and heave him up.
Micah’s heavy—all that height and muscle—but I’ve lugged hay bales and machinery all my life.
Compared to that, it’s easy to lift him onto the half-high wall of the stall, his thick thighs wrapping around my waist, squeezing on instinct—and nearly taking my breath away.
For a moment, he sways, searching for balance. I keep hold of him until he’s settled.
Triumphant and feeling pretty smug myself, I grin at him. To drive home my success, I pat his knees.
Micah’s eyes are wide and round. I laugh when he makes a sound between a croak and a groan. “Linden, what the fuck?!” he finally says, his voice rough enough to grind my spike of confidence into dust.
“I…sorry, I just…” I fall back from my tiptoes to my heels to make room for Micah to hop down from the box, but his strong hands grab my shoulders, holding me in place.
“No! No, don't, that…that was so hot!”
The words don't quite make sense, even as I keep staring at Micah's lips, like seeing their form will make me understand.
“Hot? Me?” I laugh. I don't think anyone's ever called me “hot” before. Not that I'm “cool” either. More like lukewarm tap water. The flutter in the pit of my stomach desperately wants him to say it again.
Micah's brows draw together. He grabs for my wrist, plucking my hand off his thigh and places it over his groin. There's an unmistakable hardness under my palm.
He’s this aroused from something I did!?
“Oh fuck.” I swallow thickly, tracing my fingers along his length. “I…I mean, you mentioned that scene,” I add, glancing up at Micah, biting my lower lip. “Is that what you want? Getting down and dirty in the barn?”
“I mean…I don’t have any other plans for the day. Do you?”
“Hmm, no, no plans yet, but let me tell you one thing about hay,” I hum, keeping my voice low to draw Micah down to me.
“Yeah?” he prompts me, his warm breath tickling my cheek. It’s so tempting to give in. I could simply continue to feel him up, eventually pull his pants out of the way…
His lips graze mine. It's almost second nature to press our mouths together, opening up to Micah's tongue with a sigh. We fit together seamlessly, easily. I groan freely against him when his teeth tug on my lower lip.
Leaning back to catch my breath, I trail my hands down over Micah’s thighs, squeezing his knees, then his calves until I reach his ankles. I could spend all day kissing him, but there's another temptation that's simply too powerful to resist.
“Because, hay—tickles!” I pull Micah's feet up, disrupting the delicate balance that kept him on the edge of the stall. For a moment, Micah flails, his mouth open, but eliciting no sound until he tips backward. “Linden!”
I laugh as he drags my name out into a curse word.
It doesn't save him.
Micah falls and lands in the fresh hay I had piled up in the stall earlier. It’s more than enough to cushion his fall so that he lands with a rustle—and an indignant huff.
I hook my arms over the wooden barrier, grinning down at him.
“You little—” he growls, but at the same time can’t keep his lips—still swollen and glistening from our kiss—from quirking into a smile.
“You look good like that. On your back, I mean.”
“Never thought you’d turn out to be such a tease!” Micah throws a handful of hay at me. I duck behind the stall, but a few strands still cascade down on me.
By the time I walk around to the door, Micah has made himself comfortable. With his arms crossed behind his head, cap pushed low into his face, and his long legs propped up against the stall, he looks so relaxed, I could almost forget that I tipped him into it.
“Well, anyway, I…learned something new about you and myself!” He winks.
“Still an ogre.” I snort, ready to throw myself into the admittedly soft and comfy-looking hay, when my phone vibrates against my leg. “Sorry,” I huff as I pull it out.
“This is really turning into a thing,” Micah complains, but I barely hear him as my eyes dart over Colin's messages.
Checking in how it's going!
Just in case here’s some motivation…
I don’t wait until the picture finishes loading, quickly locking my phone and pushing it back into my pocket as deep as it will go. My heart pounds in my ears and my cheeks burn.
“Hey, everything alright?” Micah sits up, brushing the hay off his shoulders and picking it out of his hair.
“Yeah.” I swallow thickly, then clear my throat, but the odd tightness in my chest won’t go away. “I just…I should finish this.” I gesture at the hay that’s littering the ground. No priority in a barn, but sweeping should help clear my head.
“Oh, uh…yeah, sure.” Micah climbs out of the box.
I don’t look up until he has passed me.
The sound of bristles scraping over the ground makes me whirl around.
Micah has grabbed another broom and starts sweeping the stray bits of dirt, grass, and hay together. He smiles when he notices my stare. “Will be done much faster like this.”
For a moment, the urge to storm past him and run away from this situation is overwhelming.
I grip the handle of my own broom tightly.
Then I swallow, nod, and start sweeping as well.
The silence between us feels tense at first, but slowly, I allow the monotone task and Micah’s quiet presence to take over and soothe my mind.
Right now, I just want to be here, not worry about what’s waiting for me back in Bonham.
When I look up, I find Micah already looking at me. I give him a smile, hoping he’ll understand everything underneath the silent gesture; the apology as well as my gratitude that he’s putting up not just with this dusty-ass barn, but also me.