Page 87 of Headed for Home

She parks her hands on her hips. “Shouldn’t I pay? You’re stacking my hay.”

“Snappy rhyme, but now isn’t the time.” I blow her a kiss.

“When I win,” Scott barges into our conversation like a drunk relative. “I’ll let you buy me dinner, Cass.”

“Pathetic,” I sneer. “I’m going to enjoy beating you.”

“Bold claim coming from a guy who doesn’t know the weight of a bale. Too bad I didn’t bring my elevator for you. Could’ve offered you a head start.” He makes an ‘awww shucks’ motion but it’s faker than his charm.

“Don’t need it.” Not that I have a damn clue what equipment he’s referring to. I lower the rear grate on my wagon and then, with a fluid motion that feels practiced, hop on. “Ready when you are.”

Scott gets to copy my lead for a change, which morphs his scowl into fierce determination. “May the best man eat.”

That sounds like something I would say, but his rushed movements don’t allow me to appreciate the phrase. A strategy for success forms and a loophole presents itself. I’m ready to execute.

My fingers grip twine and heave. The square is probably pushing fifty pounds. I toss the bale off the trailer and grab another. Throw, bend, lift, repeat. A somewhat smooth cycle directs my motions.

Scott slams to a halt after exiting the barn, his glare pinned on the pile I’m creating. “What’re you doing?”

“Emptying my wagon,” I breathe. “As we wagered.”

His eyes widen. “That’s… fuck!”

A chuckle scolds his assumption that I’m cheating. These are the rules he set. Mr. Nice Guy didn’t read the fine print. Bummer. Now he’s racing to imitate my methods. There’s not a chance he can beat me. But just in case, I increase my pace.

It doesn’t take long for my back to start cursing me. Sweat slicks my skin and hay particles stick to me like glitter. The sun is cranking up the heat to a punishing extreme. There’s a burning sensation streaking through my muscles. This specific task isn’t my norm but I don’t falter. I’ve trained my body and mind to push harder. Quitting isn’t an option.

Cassidy appears in my peripheral, clutching onto the trailer’s metal cage. “What’re you trying to prove, trouble? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Beauty,” I exhale gruffly. “There’s something you should know about a man’s ego. It’s fragile and needs to be pampered. Give me a stroke, not a shove.”

“What?”

“Praise my reckless decisions and then coddle me once I get injured,” I rephrase.

“No,” she huffs.

“Just this once?” I pause to wipe my damp forehead, seeing that half the stack is gone.

Cassidy’s shoulders slump. “Fine.”

My steady but rapid pace resumes. “You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

“I feel like we’re back in middle school.”

“Now you’ll know how it could’ve been.”

Her laughter slices through the pounding in my ears. “Mhmm, a real thrill so far. Very mature.”

“Almost done.” The reassurance is for me more than her.

Paisley sidles up beside Cassidy to watch the demonstration of male stupidity. We’ll do just about anything to prove a point. It seems that gender trait isn’t a trade secret. While I’m busting my ass, parts of the women’s conversation reaches me.

“They’re acting like boys,” Cassidy complains.

“Hush. Let ‘em swing their cocks around.”

My girlfriend gasps. “Don’t suggest that. My children are home!”

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