Chapter Four

This Land

Phoenix

I don’t know if I even got more than a minute’s sleep. I have never been so completely disgusted and turned on at the same time.

No man, none, has ever spoken to me like that. Sure, I have had the dirty bedroom talk, but it was like it was rehearsed, like he had watched a porno to get some tips. Obviously, none had watched it to the end to learn that the chick finishes first.

Hell, I have never even finished at all, without doing it myself.

I sigh as I get out of bed and look out the window. I missed the sun rising. Shit, I needed that. It focuses me.

I walk into the bathroom, brushing my hair and throwing it into a ponytail. Then I brush my teeth and wipe off the smudged mascara that must not have all come off last night when I washed my face.

Tonight, I work. Then tomorrow starts my two days off.

“Thank God,” I say after spitting out the mouthwash.

I walk into the bedroom to grab some leggings, a pair of socks, and a long-sleeved tee-shirt to get ready to mow some of this big old lawn. It’s cardio and cathartic. I certainly won’t get to it all. It took me two full days last time, but I can get a good portion of it done before getting ready for work so that I have part of Monday to do whatever I want.

When I walk outside with my phone and earbuds in hand, I look over at Mags. As always, she’s sitting on her porch glider and drinking a cup of coffee.

“Hey, honey girl.” She smiles. “Got your coffee ready.”

She holds up the stainless thermos as I hop down the stairs.

She slides left and pats the spot next to her. “What are you all dressed and ready to go do?”

I set down my phone and hold the cup while she pours me some coffee. “I think I’m going to mow some lawn today.”

“With the push mower?” She laughs as she sets the thermos on the table beside her.

“I’m telling you, Mags, it’s cheaper than a gym membership.”

She shakes her head. “I’m telling you, there’s a fancy tractor that mows in that big old barn down the way.”

“I don’t want to touch that thing.” I laugh. “I’d break it.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” She looks past me and toward the big house. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Then she picks up a pair of binoculars and looks through them. She giggles.

I look in the direction of the house.

“That man is something else,” she says, handing me the binoculars.

“Mags, shame on you. I thought all this time you were watching birds, not spying.” I laugh as I put the binoculars to my eyes.

When I finally catch a glimpse of what she’s chuckling about, I nearly die.

I quickly pull the binoculars away from my face and look at her. “Mags! He’s—”

“Naked as the day he was born.” She chuckles and slaps her knee. “Beautiful as a boy, and absolutely magnificent now.”

“Oh, my God, Mags!” I scold, laughing.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She shrugs and winks.

I shake my head. “I’m not saying a word.”

“If I was younger and hadn’t changed his and his brothers’ diapers, I’d go after that man.” She shakes her head. “Best one out of the bunch.”

I want nothing more than to get a good look at that man and his beautiful ass. It would definitely take my mind off the asshole from last night’s dream.

Mags nudges the binoculars. “Go ahead. Take another look.”

“No way,” I say on a laugh.

“I won’t tell a soul, honey girl.” She grins. “Not a soul.”

“No, thank you.” I shake my head. “What the heck is he doing outside butt naked?”

“These woods...This place changes a person; brings you right back to nature.” She smiles fondly toward the big house.

“Well, some of us clearly have enough sense to wear clothes.”

“If I was your age, and I looked like him, or you, knowing what I do now, I’d have spent a hell of a lot more time naked than I ever did. That’s a fact.”

I drink down my coffee and stand up. Then I give her a peck on the cheek, grab my phone, earbuds, and pull my shades down to cover my eyes as I say, “See you later,” to Mags.

I walk down the path to the barn, careful not to look toward the house, because naked and unafraid may still be out there doing God only knows what on that deck.

How the hell is it that I moved into the middle of nowhere, and all of the sudden, hot-bodied, tree-like men with tattoos seem to be everywhere. It’s just wrong.

Now I know how Eve felt.

I slide the huge red barn door to the side and walk into the dark barn. I pull the John Deere push mower outside then go in and grab the dark red metal gas can, hoping there is enough gas in it to get what I have time to mow done for now.

With a tank full of gas, I pull the cord to start it. I don’t pull hard enough and have to give it three more tugs before it starts.

I pop my earbuds in and turn on the country music that I seem to be enjoying more than I thought I would and turn it up.

“Girl Crush” by Little Big Town plays, and I laugh as I sing along to words I know that never in a million years would I admit to.

I mow around the barn three times, starting closest to it so not to let the grass hit the barn.

The sun is shining down on me, giving me natural vitamin D, the smell of fresh cut grass is wafting in the clean country air, music is blasting in my ears, and I am singing at the top of my lungs, trying to learn the words to a song I heard last night after the cock-thinking caveman walked out of the bar. “It’s Different for Girls” by Dierks Bentley. I put it on repeat so I can learn the words.

When I know the grass won’t fly and hit the barn, I turn around and go the other way, making sure the lines are perfectly straight.

After the sixth time around, I’m singing along, “It’s different for girls when their hearts get broke. They can’t tape it back together with a whiskey and Coke. They don’t take someone home and act like it’s nothing. They can’t just switch it off every time they feel something. A guy gets drunk with his friends, and he might hook up—WHAT THE HELL!” I scream when I feel a tap on my shoulder, nearly jumping out of my own damn skin, releasing the lawn mower handle and nearly walking on air to get away from whatever the hell is after me.

When I am far enough away, I look back and see him, hunched over, arms crossed over his stomach, laughing his fool head off.

“Fuck you!” I scream, pulling my headphones off. “What the hell is with you! I mean, Jesus Christ, you follow me to both jobs then here! Are you a fucking sociopath?”

He doesn’t say a damn thing, still laughing as he turns around and walks around the barn.

“Hell no!” I yell after him as I stomp over and grab my phone out of the fresh cut grass and the handle to the lawn mower, and march my ass around the barn, dragging it behind me.

I stop dead in my tracks when I hear the roar of an engine coming from inside the barn. And when he, that son of a bitch, comes pulling out on the John Deere tractor, black hat on backward, a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth, I am furious, totally fucking furious.

He’s still laughing.

“What is wrong with you?” I yell, throwing my hands in the air.

He cups his hand around his ear and yells back, “Can’t hear you!”

I stomp toward him, ready to give him a piece of my mind, and he has the most...aggravating smirk on his...irritating mouth.

I walk right up to the damn tractor and yell over the engine’s noise, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Climb up here, Phoenix. This thing is too loud. I can’t hear a damn thing you’re jabbering about.”

Fucking asshole.

I look toward the house, expecting to see the owner walking out naked with a gun. Then I climb up on the damn thing.

“Are you trying to get killed?”

“Nah, just trying to mow the lawn.” He grabs my wrist, and then releases the brake, causing the tractor to jerk forward. I’m sure I am going to get thrown off, but his grip is firm enough to hold me in place, and then he pulls me up so I am nearly sitting on his lap.

“Let go of me,” I snap at him.

“Then sit your ass down against the steering wheel and chill the fuck out.”

“You’re gonna stop this and let me off before he comes out and shoots you.” I point toward the house.

“Who’s gonna shoot me?” He smirks as he pulls another piece of hay out of his open flannel shirt pocket.

Holy shit, his body is insane. And the tats...gawww.

“The owner! You aren’t above the law, you know, dipshit,” I say, looking for a safe way out of this situation.

He turns his hat around and pulls it down over his eyes, smiling like a fool.

“This isn’t a joke. I agreed to do some work around here to knock some rent off. You’re gonna mess this all up for me.”

“This guy sounds like a dick,” he says. “Maybe we should just go have it out with him. Tell him, if you can’t drive his fucking tractor to mow his goddammed lawn, you won’t—”

I cover his mouth. “Just shut up!”

He laughs harder, and I let go.

“Why are you here?” I ask, pleading now.

He winks. “I’m mowing the lawn.”

“Unreal,” I say, knowing short of diving off this thing and risking getting crushed by one of the tires, I’m at the mercy of this madman. “I don’t know who you are, or what your name is, but—”

“Morning, beautiful,” he interrupts me and waves.

I look over to see Mags is standing at the edge of the driveway, laughing.

“Good morning to you, young man.” She grins.

“Be back for my coffee. Keep it hot for me?”

“Of course, my boy,” she yells back.

I look at Mags, who smiles as she turns and walks toward the cabin.

“What? How do you know her? Do you work here?”

“Known her most of my life. And I do work here...sometimes.”

He has a smug-ass look on his face while my thoughts are jumping around. Then it hits me.

“Are you—”

“Gage Falcon,” he says, his chest vibrating in a silent chuckle.

“Wait, you’re...” I pause before I say ‘naked and unafraid.’

“The asshole landlord.” He nods. “In my defense, I had nothing to do with your rental agreement. No idea you lived here till...” He starts to laugh.

“This is far from funny.”

“Shirley, the woman at the diner, gave me the lease information. She’s the property manager.”

I gasp. “And you’re fucking her?”

He looks at me like I’m insane. “Does she look like my type, Phoenix?”

“Hell if I know! And you know what, it’s none of my damn business,” I say, giving him a stern look.

He nods then shakes his head. “You live right here.”

“For a couple months,” I tell him matter-of-factly.

“June, July, August. Three months.” He holds up three fingers, but not the normal way; it’s more like an okay sign. “Three.”

“And...?” I say, getting uncomfortable being this close, knowing what I know now.

“I’m just sayin’, three.” He holds up his fingers again.

“Fine, whatever. Take me back.”

“You gotta mow the lawn.” He chuckles. “What the hell are you thinking using the push mower? That would take three fucking days.”

“It takes two full days,” I tell him.

“You seriously pushed this whole bottom ten?”

“I have no idea what bottom ten means, but whatever isn’t overgrown, I’ve pushed.”

He licks his lips, shaking his head. “That’s a hell of a lot of work for a couple hundred bucks.” Then he chuckles. “I’ve got a better idea about how to shave off—”

I smack him in the chest before he continues.

“I’ve had mosquito bites that hurt worse, squirt.”

“Great. Note to self: next time your landlord talks nasty to you, hit him upside the head with a shovel. He may feel that.”

He laughs. “You don’t want to switch it up? Make things easier on yourself? Then you’re gonna learn how to drive this tractor.” He turns around and heads back down the road.

“Where are you going now?”

“Mows better with the mower attached.” He reaches his hand out. “Welcome to Falcon’s Landing, Phoenix. I’m Gage Falcon, and I am gonna make damn sure you enjoy yourself for the next month.”

“What, after that you’re gonna be an overtly sexual jackass again?”

“Nah, I’ll be back to work.”

“Oh, so you don’t work here?”

“I wouldn’t call it work. I actually like being here. It’s a great place to just be.”

I look away from him and at the view in front of us—the lake and trees, a beautiful clear blue sky.

“Yeah, it is,” I whisper, not caring if he heard me or not.

It’s quiet for a while as he slows down, no doubt taking in the beauty of the scene before us. Then he laughs.

“What?” I ask, looking at him.

“It’s different for girls,” he starts to sing, and my face immediately feels like it’s burning up.

“I’m embracing my country side,” I defend.

He reaches down and hits his radio, grabs his phone, and hits a few buttons. “There’s better than that. Check this.”

The music starts, and I can’t help laughing. He does too.

“Deny it’s truth?” he jokes.

“Denied.” Again, I try not to laugh, but fail when he turns it up and starts singing the chorus.

“She thinks my tractor’s sexy. It really turns her on.”

“You are such a...” I pause and shake my head.

“She likes the way it’s pullin’ while we’re tillin’ up the land,” he sings over the roar of the engine and the music.

“Just stop.” This time I do laugh out loud, and so does he. And at that moment, he looks incredibly...normal and very, very sexy.

Something shifts between us, and we both look away at the same time.

We ride down the dirt road, listening to this stupid song. When it changes, I cringe. I hate this song. It reminds me of how I felt the first year of college whenever I went home.

“Break Up In A Small Town” by Sam Hunt. Hell, I didn’t even listen to country, but that song was all over the radio.

My little town looked the same, the people were the same, the stores, everything looked the same. But nothing was.

I saw them together, and they were happy. So was I, until they were in my face, playing my ideal role.

How the hell is it that I was the one cheated on and lied to, yet I was the one who felt like I didn’t belong anymore. How does that even happen?

Gage backs the tractor up to the shed and climbs off before offering me a hand. I refuse.

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, then he narrows his eyes. “Fine.”

I climb down and repeat his word. “Fine.” Then I walk away.

I will be damned if I’m going to let that tree with ink get to me, so I use all of this pent-up energy to push mow as much lawn as there is gas for. He sits on that tractor, shirt open, hat on, straw hanging out of his mouth, looking...so unbelievably sexy as he mowed in the places I had yet to mow.

I push the empty mower into the garage and march up the dirt road toward my home that I now know is owned by the tree-sized manwhore. I need a shower, and hopefully I can take a nap so that I can turn off my mind.

I feel as if I am standing on the edge of a cliff where I will do one of two things: raise my hands in the air, lean forward, and fall, keeping my eyes closed the whole time as the sensation, the feeling of falling, the high of it takes over me entirely, when I know what kind of pain follows the fall. Or, step back where it’s safe and comfortable.

By the time I get back to the cabin, my body is aching and I’m tired.

“Coffee?”

I look over at Mags and smile. “Not right now, Mags, but thank you.”

“You okay?” she asks.

“Tired, sore, probably sun burnt,” I answer.

“So, you met Gage.” She raises a grey eyebrow.

“Yeah, a couple times before today, too. I just didn’t know who he was.”

And I wish I didn’t.

“He’s a good man. Has a big heart, that one. Just hides it.”

I nod. “I’m sure.” Before she can study me anymore, I nod toward the door. “The shower is calling my name.”