Page 28 of Our Long Days
“Oh, wow.” Excitement blooms in my chest. “What’s the job?”
“PA work. It’s fast-paced, local to your area, and offers lodging.”
“When can I start?” I ask half-jokingly.
Kelsey doesn’t catch my desperate tone. “Some employers like to hire blind so they can hire without bias.” She types something on her keyboard. “Would you be free this afternoon? It’ll give you the chance to meet him, see the accommodation, and then you can make your decision. If you’re both happy, we’ll run some quick background checks, and then the job is yours.”
My palms sweat. Surely, it can’t be this easy after months of searching. “Today. Yes. Absolutely,” I blurt.
“Perfect. I’ll text you the address. If you have any questions, call me. Speak soon.”
My eyes flit to the table to find my mom watching me curiously. Holding up a finger, I disappear out of view before doing a happy dance. Relief cascades over me, soothing the constant itch and irritation of rejection.
Now, all I need to do is meet my prospective boss and charm the pants off him.
I could float with happiness.
Then, Kelsey texts the address as promised, and my stomach drops.
Turns out, I’ve already charmed the pants off my prospective employer. Literally.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
florence
“Baaaa!”
A pair of wide-set, beady black eyes stare vacantly at me.
“Baa to you too,” I shout. “Where’s your master?”
I jump when another goat hops out from behind the cherry-red pickup. This one is smaller, all white, and rears its hoof over the dirt threateningly. It’s black and white counterpart just…stares. Like, a lot.
They’re cute, in a menacing kind of way, and a distraction. I’m here for answers.
Keeping my distance from the guard-goats, I skirt around the edge of the property and head toward the distinct sound of an axe splitting wood.
The cabin is a different experience in the light of day. The rugged exterior has an air of tranquility to it, blending with the swaying branches of pine and spruce. It’s a place you’d want to disappear to, hidden in the wilderness, away from the world. Crafted with exceptional finesse, it’s no wonder he decided to make this his home.
Nature and Dexter Moore are one and the same.
Upon reflection, I should have called ahead. Upon further reflection, I’m glad I didn’t.
A bare-chested Dex, glistening with sweat, stands with his legs spread wide, dark jeans hanging low on his hips. He raises an axe above his head, his tattoos rippling as he drives it down with a crack. The splintering wood echoes through the trees. If there was such a thing as Dad-bod lumberjack porn, this would be the highest viewed video.
He’s so engrossed in his task, he doesn’t notice me.
I take full advantage—ogling every movement, drinking in every grunt he expels, rough like bark scraping over my skin.
A flash of black and white zips past me, and the axe thuds to the ground as the goat headbutts Dex in the shin. “Fucking hell. Why are you such an insufferable dickhead?”
Giggling, I slap a hand over my mouth; the movement catches Dex’s attention.
“Florence?” He frowns at me before his gaze slides to his discarded T-shirt.
It’s then I recall why I’m here.
Stomping over, I stop a foot away, head tilted back. “Did you know?”
