Page 13 of His Wilde Little
“Yeah, well, I’m not interested,” I chuckled. “Anyway, pick that rake back up, I was serious about getting the third one ready.”
He huffed and nodded. “I can do whatever anyone else can do, but better,” he said.
“Then show me.”
Another scoff. “I’m doing it.” He grabbed the rake and charged for the stall filled with old hay and an undisclosed time of dirt that had collected, alongside what appeared to be a matrix of cobwebs. “You gotta help as well. We’ll get it done twice as fast.”
“I am, plus, I’ve got the benefit of—” I flexed my arms for him. I didn’t know why, it just came over me. And he stopped raking to look at me, his eyes wide and blinking rapidly. “You know, practice.”
“That’s nice and all, but I didn’t sign up for this,” he said.
We worked together, pulling the dirt out of the stall and into a hefty bag. It didn’t take long, trying to do more than each other. It was actually surprising to see him grunt and let out these primal growls as he picked up mounds of hay and throw them down.
And just as we finished laying the new hay down as bedding, the heavens above broke and a thunderous downpour of rain came down. Jace rushed outside, head tilted, taking in the cooling rain, while I stood and watched as he became soaked.
“You’re gonna catch your death,” I called to him.
“Come out, it’s nice,” he said, holding an arm out to me. “I promise.”
Staring at him as he turned around spraying the rainwater off him like a shaking dog. I went out to join him. The instant cooling of the rain had my shoulders relaxed and I was now tilting my head up to the sky.
“Isn’t it nice?”
“No,” I laughed. “It’s amazing.”
The first crash of thunder had us escaping into the stable together, drenched from head to toe. We just laughed. I satin one of the stalls across from Mary as she was huffing and neighing. Jace sat beside me and big smile on his face.
“Summer was boiling, we had one storm,” he said. “I think we might be due a rainy fall.”
“Doesn’t rain too much where I’m from,” I told him. I’d kind of forgotten how it made the air smell, a sweetness to it, like I wanted to extend my tongue and lap it right out of the atmosphere. “How often does it rain up here?”
He shrugged. “If rain is new, then I’m not sure how you’ll react to winter. We get so much snow, sometimes blocking the road out into town.” He laid back in the hay. “It’s kinda nice actually.”
“The hay or the snow?” I asked, leaning back into it. “I don’t know how horses sleep in this stuff.”
Our heads were almost connecting.
And then they were.
I didn’t know whose head connected or made the move first as we kissed. A simple longing peck on the lips, that neither of us flinched away from.
The moment lingered. My eyes closed briefly, opening as he opened his.
“I—”
He snickered. “That wasn’t what I expected.”
“Which part?”
“Um. The—” he licked his lips. They had been incredibly soft to the touch. “The kiss. But I guess it makes sense.”
“I shouldn’t have let that happen.” I pulled myself away from him, clinging to the wooden boards in the stall. “I’m sorry, I get a little carried away and a whole lot heated.” I grabbed my hat from the peg and placed it firmly on my wet hair. “I think we’ve done enough work here, I’m gonna head off.”
“But you’re gonna get drenched out there,” he said, lifting himself onto his shoulders in the stack of hay. “I’m not gonna tellanyone. It’s not my businessBrokeback Mountain-ing out here, as long as you don’t have some wife and kid, you’re taking care of.”
I turned away and paused at the wooden stall gate, staring ahead at Mary, peering over like she was listening to gossip. “It’s not that,” I told him. “I’m not here to try and find that type of deal.”
“What type of deal?” he asked, laughing a little. “It was just a kiss. I’m not going to out you.”
