Page 40 of Love Off-Limits
Tyler was filthy. His jeans were streaked with mud, his face glistened with sweat, and his Stonebrook Farm t-shirt clung to him in a way that suggested an even more defined physique than what I’d previously imagined. And I’d doneplentyof imagining. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud. To Kelly or anyone else.
“That’s a good chicky-chicky-chicken,” Tyler said as he slowly inched forward. “That’s a good girl.”
I pressed a fist to my mouth to silence my laugh. So far, Tyler hadn’t noticed me watching him.
He was mere inches away when the bigger of the two birds lurched to the left and darted away. Tyler growled and chased after her, streaking across the pen until he slipped on a muddy spot, and in a move straight out of an old cartoon, flew into the air and landed flat on his back in a heaping pile of pig manure.
An actualpile.An enormous four-foot-high pile of shoveled excrement and soiled hay waiting to be hauled to the compost pile. No manure was truly pleasant. Goat manure was pretty mild, horse manure was tolerable, cow, less so. But pig manure? It was the worst of the worst.
Tyler groaned as he sat up.
I walked over slowly and propped an elbow on the fence post that separated us, my nose wrinkling at the smell. “I can get out the hose and spray you down if you want,” I said.
He lifted his eyes to mine. “You saw that?”
“Every glorious minute of it.”
He gave that same casual smirk I was beginning to know so well as he stood, brushing dirty hay off his legs and back. “Glorious, huh?”
I rolled my eyes. “I was mocking you, Tyler. Not complimenting you.”
He grinned. “You see it your way, I’ll see it mine.” He brushed himself off and then, in an entirely unexpected move, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and flipped it inside out, using the clean side to wipe off his face and hands. He walked forward, stopping directly opposite me on the other side of the fence.
Holy unbelievable...I swallowed and forced myself to blink. He was so close. His bare chest so...
Tyler smirked. “You still want to hose me off?” he said, his voice low and inviting. “I could use the help.”
Oh, he was not playing fair. A vision of water sluicing down Tyler’s chest and arms clouded my thinking until a voice sounded from behind me. “I can help.”
I turned to see a couple of female farmhands—a young brunette with bright brown eyes and a long ponytail I recognized from previous summers and a blonde I’d never seen before—standing with an empty wheelbarrow between them, their eyes locked on Tyler same as mine had been.
They were probably there to retrieve the pig manure for the compost. That’s the only reason it would be piled up in one spot.
The brunette startled, as if she hadn’t realized who I was until she saw my face. Which was ridiculous. How many redheads in business attire did she generally see hanging around the farm?
“Tyler can handle cleaning up on his own,” I said, shooting the pair of them my bestdon’t question the bossexpression.
“Right,” the blonde said quickly. “Sorry, Ms. Hawthorne.”
I opened the gate for them as they wheeled forward, one of them jogging over to the supply shed to retrieve a shovel from where it leaned against the wall.
They busied themselves shoveling the manure and made an admirable attempt to keep their eyes down.
A challenge, considering the very attractive shirtless man standing a few yards away.
“There really is a hose over on the far wall of the supply shed,” I said. “I’ll get the chickens in if you want to clean up.”
He eyed me up and down. “You’ll get them, huh? In your heels? This I want to see.”
They were wedges, not heels, and comfortable enough that I could walk a mile uphill if I had to. But that was beside the point. I smiled sweetly and shook the jar of mealworms. “Here, girls,” I said without taking my eyes off Tyler. “Come and get it!”
The chickens, who had resettled themselves on the opposite side of the pen, immediately came running.
Tyler’s mouth gaped open, and he propped his hands on his hips.
He’d knocked me off-kilter with his impromptu strip show, but I was back on solid ground now.
I backed up a few steps, shaking the jar and leading the chickens away like the Pied Piper himself. I glanced over my shoulder and offered Tyler the same smirk he’d given me before taking off his shirt. “You’ve got a little something right here,” I said, touching my cheek.
