Sandy
A lot had changed in a week’s time.
She surveyed the fields, hands on her hips, nodding absentmindedly to herself. Yes, a lot had changed. Her fields were in better shape than they had been in ages. Not only that, but she’d gotten so ahead of things that they’d ended up harvesting some crops this week instead of next. The earlier the better at this time of year.
“How are things looking?” Palin clomped up next to her, his mud-covered boots making a tremendous racket on the wooden porch.
Yes, a lot had changed. Palin was a new addition to her…life? She supposed that’s how it would have to be described. After the second day she’d been forced to admit that they formed a pretty good team. Spurred on by having someone else to work alongside, even Sandy’s production had gone up a considerable amount.
It was nothing compared to what Palin had done, however, his muscles lending themselves to farming just as well as they did admiration. Much as it pained her to admit. With his help Sandy was going to get way more than she needed to be able to pay all her bills.
Why, come spring I could probably have some extra in the account even. Wouldn’t that be a welcome surprise?
She sobered quickly though. It was unlikely Palin would still be around in the spring. Sandy had to keep telling herself that, otherwise it seemed likely she was going to end up making some terrible planning decisions that she would never be able to keep up with.
“Things are looking good.”
“Good.” He headed back toward the front after waiting a brief moment.
Sandy exhaled once he was back around the corner. It was so hard keeping herself together with him around, maintaining a strict employer-employee relationship. Every day his easygoing smile set her at ease, something she simply couldn’t afford. Not if she was going to keep things professional between the two of them.
Professional. Which is exactly what you’re doing whenever you check him out. You’ve been busted doing it several times now. He knows you think he’s cute.
Of course he did. She’d accidentally called him a beefcake out loud. To his face. Sandy wanted to die of shame all over again as she remembered that, and his followup comments about her crops and her field. The sexual aspect of it all had not been lost on her. She wasn’t oblivious. She’d ignored the question and proceeded to slide to the side, so that he could have a wonderful view as her razor-sharp knife slid through the meat on the counter.
The metaphor hadn’t been lost on Palin.
It hadn’t stopped him from flirting with her, sometimes obnoxiously. He was making his interest in her heard, felt, and understood. So far he hadn’t crossed any boundaries, and his confusing moral code was so strict she doubted he would hug her without explicit permission. Which he didn’t have, and would never have.
Never?
That was a harsh sentence. Although Sandy hadn’t caved to any of his more suggestive comments, either ignoring them or making pointed references with sharp objects, she had caught herself becoming more relaxed and casual with him in everyday conversation. It was rude to ignore him completely when they worked in such close contact with each other. That’s what she’d told herself at least. There was definitely a sense of camaraderie between them now, though she did her best to keep it platonic and completely neutral.
Mostly she did that because Sandy had exactly zero idea what his end game was. What plans did he have, besides that ridiculous nonsense about being a dragon? Men, they came up with the strangest answers and excuses to things. At least Sandy didn’t have to worry about him being solely into her for sex. If that were the case, she would have made him leave after day one and not come back.
Palin had stayed, though, and if anything he’d worked harder with each passing day. There was no way she was that attractive. Sandy had limits to how delusional she was willing to allow herself to be. No matter how large her breasts might be, or how much he loved her farmer’s tan, none of that was worth the five long, hard days of sweat-equity he’d put in to her farm. Not even close.
Maybe he thought her tractor was sexy.
She snorted to herself. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, signaling the end of the work day. Because of everything they’d gotten done she’d actually called it early. Not much, an hour at most, but it was a nice reward to give both her and Palin.
A nicer reward would be to engage him in some of his good-natured flirting.
It would. He was cute after all. More than cute. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Even the word handsome didn’t seem to incorporate just how hot he was. And those eyes. They looked at her sometimes as if she were just a piece of meat, and other times they burned with green flames that didn’t extinguish until she forcefully put them out. Even then they remained, dimmed but surly and unwilling to go away.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, she wondered if it was the unusual late-fall heat or thoughts of Palin that had put it there. Probably a combination of both. Dropping her hands from her waist, she headed back around the front of the house.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Cleaning.”
“Uh-huh.”
He was standing in the front yard, hosing himself down. On the porch railing near her was his shirt. Sandy gripped the wooden rail, trying to keep ahold of herself as beads of water trickled over muscles so hard she could feel them across the distance. Palin’s back was to her, and she bit her lip so hard she could taste blood. He reached up to switch hands, pouring water across him. As he moved his skin stretched and rippled, muscles on one side expanding while the others contracted.
Without warning he rolled his shoulders. Sandy groaned at the sight, thankful for the splash of water to cover up any noise she made. Gripping the wood until her knuckles turned white, Sandy fought back the chemicals and hormones running rampant through her system. They rampaged and marauded through her brain, bringing to life thoughts that she shouldn’t be having.
Such as wishing it were a different type of wood in her hands.
Or that maybe he’d spray her with water, forcing her to take her shirt off in front of him.
Perhaps he’d straighten without realizing what he was doing and soak his pants. They would take ages to try on the line, and wouldn’t that just be a shame.
He started to turn around and Sandy hurriedly pulled her flannel shirt closed. Her nipples were showing through easily, she could feel it. They always betrayed her like that. If she’d been wearing her denim overalls it wouldn’t have been an issue, but she’d decided not to wear them today, opting for regular jeans that fit a little tighter.
“That water isn’t cheap,” she called out as he rubbed a hand over his head.
Never before had she thought herself to be the type attracted to men who kept their head bare of any hair, but on Palin it just worked. She’d snuck a few glances. He wasn’t actually bald; he just never let it grow. It was intriguing, and the light-brown goatee just added to his aura of untouchable sexiness.
“I thought you were on well water?” he called back, taking a sip and washing his face down.
She knew he was stalling now, giving her a glimpse of what she “was missing” as he might put it. Keeping herself calm, and trying to tell her ovaries to do the same, she grabbed his shirt and tossed it at him. “Put that on. This isn’t a public changing room.”
Palin sighed, dropping the water so he didn’t soak his shirt. He bent over to kill the hose, and then stood up straight and bent backward, stretching at the waist. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his stomach as skin stretched taut over the chiseled muscles of his abs. He had to be hewn from stone, his body was so perfectly sculpted.
That was what made him so utterly imperfect. Everything just aligned. Most of the men she saw with six packs, the muscles were slightly off-centered on each other. Not Palin. His were equally lined up. She knew because she was staring at them right now as he toweled his skin off with the shirt. Taunting her. Teasing her.
It had been an awful long time since she’d had any male interaction like this. Her eyes trailed across his body, a mixture of wonder and longing in her gaze. Maybe she could allow herself to have a little bit of fun. Just this once. He was only going to be around for a few weeks, and then the frosts would come and he would leave.
Where was the harm in playing along a little? Engaging in a bit of flirtatious fun. It’s not like she was going to let it go anywhere. Just fun banter, instead of trying to keep her face rigid and cold. A little warmth. Heck, it might make him work even harder.
“Don’t you do that again,” she admonished as he slipped the shirt over his shoulders. “Otherwise you’ll have to be punished according to the …the, uh, rules and regulations of farmhands in Barton County.”
Palin eyed her.
Sandy wanted to die. Again. Was she really that rusty at flirting? Punish him according to the rules and regulations? What the hell was that!
“I…wasn’t aware there were any, um, rules and regulations. Is there a manual I can read?”
She blinked. “You can read?”
Palin flipped her a finger as they shared a laugh. His eyes narrowed slightly while he looked down at his buttons, fingers working to do them up. Sandy wondered if they would look that good undoing hers. Probably better.
“Okay, well I had better get going,” he said, doing up the last button with a flourish.
“Are you not staying for dinner?” She was surprised by how plaintive her question came out.
Was she craving company that badly?
“I had thought about it, but I’ll be honest, it’s an hour and twenty minute drive to get home. I’ve done a lot of driving this week, so I thought maybe I’d head out early.” He sighed heavily.
“Do you remember how you forced your way into working here? You kind of agreed to doing the drive.”
“Well, it would be nice not to drive.”
She nodded. “I bet it would. Have you tried flying? I think dragons can fly, can’t they?”
“What I meant,” he continued on, purposefully ignoring her jab, “was that it would be awfully nice if I could stay closer to work.”
“I don’t think anyone here has any places for rent. Maybe Rusty, but you don’t wanna live there. Trust me.”
“Okay. Who’s Rusty? Actually, never mind.” His eyes flicked past her to the house.
Sandy understood what he meant now. “Sorry, no. You aren’t staying in the house. I’m not okay with that.”
Flirting was one thing. Him shacking up under the same roof as her? Uh-uh. No way. That wasn’t crossing the line, that was catapulting over it.
“Okay.” His face clouded in thought for a moment. She saw the idea come to him, his eyebrows popping up in time with his face as he lifted his head to look at her. “What about the barn?”
“Ummm.”
“It would be great. It’s unused, fairly clean. I could set up in the loft. It’s not near the house, and I wouldn’t have to drive. It would be great.”
This was a terrible idea. Horrible idea.
“The barn?”
Palin nodded. “Please? I think you can agree I’ve been working hard.”
“Nobody is going to dispute that, Palin. Still, I don’t know about having you stay on the property.”
“You won’t even know I’m here. Trust me.”
There it was again. That line about trust. Once upon a time Sandy had trusted people, extending it to them until it was broken. That was before. In another world. Now she forced others to show that they were trustworthy before she believed it.
“Listen, think on it, okay?” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’m going to head home. You can give me an answer tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Uh. Sure.”
He waved at her, smiled that smile that made her heart feel like it was a record being worked over by a DJ. For the second time that evening she thanked her lucky stars for the railing, gripping onto it for dear life as she swayed, ready to fall over at the lightest of touches.
Maybe flirting wasn’t the best idea. It seemed to give him even more power over her.
What have I gotten myself into?