Chapter 7
After the foreman's temper tantrum yesterday morning, Nate had spent the day ten feet from Olivia while she'd shaved wool off sheep. Many, many sheep. At least he knew what shearing meant now. It looked exhausting. A week ago, he wouldn't have said so, but since watching her and Nakos for nine solid hours, Nate would've rather done eight-hundred push-ups than partake.
And he'd tried damn hard not to think about how great her ass looked in jeans every time she'd bent over. Which had been a lot. Or the way sunlight had lit her cornflower eyes and auburn hair on their walk. Or the way she'd smiled sweetly at him as if she could chase away all his dark simply by wishing it.
Justin had been like that, too - worked his way past Nate's defenses and burrowed deep. Didn't matter how many times he'd told Justin to go away or gave off fuck-you vibes, the guy had just kept at it with charm and smiles and blah, blah, blahing Nate to death. Until he'd found himself liking the fellow soldier so much, he'd considered him a friend. A rare occurrence, since Nate had never bestowed the moniker on anyone before. Where he came from, friends were only as good as your next drug run and then stabbed you in the back for leverage.
Endearing as Justin had been, his sister was worse. The he-couldn't-breathe-correctly, what-the-hell-happened-to-rational-thought kind of worse. And damn. Around her, he had no filter. At least with Justin, Nate had been able to pull up before spouting too much. With Olivia? Diarrhea of the mouth. First with the dog comment, then admitting to having nightmares.
Her reaction had been a kick in the teeth. No platitudes or flowery nonsense. Just empathetic eyes and offers of a solution. Like there was any chance of fixing him.
Then there was the aunt. Mae was a trip herself. After his run yesterday, he'd gone upstairs to shower, only to find a mini-fridge in his room that hadn't been there before, stocked with Gatorade. And a case of protein bars on his dresser. His stupid heart had shifted in his stupid chest. Most people took something as simple as eating for granted. To him, food still gave him pause, even after all these years.
Today, with his leg cramping, he jogged the last dreg to the house and slipped in the back door. Olivia was perched at the table with coffee and Mae was transferring muffins to a teetering stack on the counter.
He swiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. "I'll go shower and - "
Mae shoved a plate with two muffins and a heap of strawberries at him.
"Eat," he mumbled.
He attempted to ignore Olivia's eyes on him while he stood by the sink and chewed as fast as he could. Knowing her routine now, he didn't have to rush because she wasn't waiting on him, but he hated the way her clever, intuitive gaze tracked his every move. It was enough to make a man self-conscious.
"You can sit, you know." Her lips curved in what he called her coax-the-beast smile.
He couldn't be tamed. Best she realize that. "I'm sweaty."
She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her ample chest. Who knew flannel could be sexy? "So what? Sit, please. Enjoy your food."
Forcing a strawberry down his tight throat, he avoided her gaze. Looking at her would only suck him into her orbit and he'd say the first thing that came to mind. Like how he'd never enjoyed food. It was for sustenance only.
Once he'd showered and met up with her again, they followed the same path as yesterday, except he waited for her outside the cemetery gate while she talked to Justin. Talked, as in she had a conversation with her brother like Nate hadn't killed him. Swear to Christ, he didn't know what to make of her.
Bones trotted along beside them on the way back. The dog had been glued to Nate's side since their bonding episode on the porch. Nate didn't know what to make of that, either. He'd found Bones outside his bedroom door again this morning and he'd followed Nate on his run.
Nakos stood outside the barn when they approached, looking no more eager to see Nate than the day before. The foreman gave some sort of greeting to Olivia that sounded like heh-beh and ignored Nate altogether. Fine by him.
Except he didn't like the way Nakos looked at her and certainly didn't care for the way they had their own kind of unspoken communication between them. There was a solid minute of what he interpreted as: He's still here...Yes, get over it...I'm not happy...Understood. Nate couldn't tell if Olivia had a thing for the foreman, but he was definitely in love with her.
Nate wouldn't know love if it latched onto his face and wiggled, but he could spot it on others as easily as he could weed out a lie. Call it a gift.
They slipped into the same routine as yesterday, with Nakos holding the sheep and Olivia shearing. But instead of Nate standing around twiddling his thumbs, he took the wool from her, brushed it as he'd seen her do, then rolled it like she had.
Ten head in, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Your turn."
Nate looked from the sheep on its back to Olivia. "What?"
"I'll walk you through it. Come over here."
With a wry sneer, Nakos deigned to speak to him. "And if you screw up, it could cause injury to the animal or decrease the wool's value."
Ignoring the self-righteous prick, Nate focused on Olivia. She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, was covered in dirt and tufts of white fur, had not a stitch of makeup on, and was still able to cease his heart. "Are you sure?"
In answer, she lifted her brows.
He squatted next to her, but she worked her way between his legs until she was cradled against his thighs. Her rain-like scent combined with hay and became all he could breathe in. The slim, lean press of her body in such an intimate position rendered him incapable of swallowing. In sensory overload, he tensed.
He wasn't used to touch. Plain and simple. As a kid, he'd not been in an environment that doled out hugs and, as a teen, his lifestyle with the Disciples gang hadn't exactly been cuddly. Even when he was with a woman, he preferred fast, hard fucking to fondling, typically thwarting any attempts at caressing or exploration on the female's part.
Olivia was different. Other than the brief embrace on her porch and a casual arm brush, there hadn't been contact. But those couple instances didn't instill the urge to back off or erect distance. Instead, every molecule in his body screamed for...more.
Seemingly unaware of his predicament, she picked up the clippers at their feet. "The wool on the belly is the dirtiest and not valuable, which is why we start there." She took his hand and set the clippers in it, cradling hers around his. The buzz of the device vibrated in his palm, and she took his other hand, laying the blades against his fingertips. "It won't cut you, but it needs to be held at the right angle." She turned her head and looked at him. "Do you..."
Their faces inches apart, he froze as the time-space continuum imploded on itself. He'd taken enemy fire that had been less jarring than having her this close. Her cornflower gaze held him immobile, framed by long blondish-red lashes he imagined would feel like feather kisses if fluttered against his skin. She had the tiniest scar above her upper lip - a thin white mark, unnoticeable had he not been right on top of her.
At his perusal, she let out an uneven breath that skated over his jaw. His heart detached ribs as he lowered his gaze to her mouth. They weren't full or lush, but her lips had a bow shape that was part adorable and one-hundred percent groan-worthy. Sheer temptation.
The loud rasp of Nakos clearing his throat made her flinch.
"Um..." She blinked repeatedly and glanced at their joined hands like waking from a midday nap. A blush worked its way up her neck and infused her cheeks.
"You were saying how to hold the clippers and dole correct strokes," Nakos supplied in a drone that had Nate's molars gnashing.
"Right," she breathed and cleared her throat. "Start at the breast bone on the right side and shear all the way to the flank."
She'd lost him somewhere between "your turn" and "um," but he nodded.
Gently, she lifted their joined hands and encouraged him to let her guide. Together, they stripped off a section of wool on the belly. She repeated the pattern on the left side, then a center strip before moving onto the inside of the hind legs, crotch, and tail. Nakos shifted the sheep's position, and she and Nate did the shoulders and outer legs. Two more position changes, several more strokes of the clipper on the back, and they finished.
Nate preferred the Army's calisthenics, but there was something rewarding in accomplishing a new skill. After many more runs with Olivia guiding him, he did two sheep on his own to round out the day.
Nakos stopped Olivia outside the barn door and passed her a folded piece of paper while Nate waited a few feet away.
She glanced at the page and handed it back. "I told you."
Nakos headed for the driveway. "Consider our discussion off the table, little red."
Nate had no clue what the hell had just gone down, but judging by Olivia's sagging shoulders, closed eyes, and the way she dropped her head, it wasn't good. When she covered her face with her hands and sighed, Nate's pulse thumped.
"What's wrong?" He stepped in front of her when he should've left her alone. Whatever was between her and her foreman, or anything regarding the ranch, was none of his business.
Her hands slapped her thighs. "I'm mean and I screwed up."
His first instinct was to laugh. Her version of mean and his were polar opposites. She seemed pretty upset, though, so he kept mum.
"I'm going for a ride. Would you like to come?"
"Sure." He thought she meant for a drive until she led him to the barn and stopped one of the ranch hands from unsaddling a horse. Her and the dark-haired, skinny-as-hell kid made small talk, so Nate glanced around.
The carriage doors were open on both ends of the long, narrow stables, creating a breeze and filtering late-day light. Fifteen stalls lined each side, some with horses, some empty. Stacks of hay bales were piled along a far wall and, for a barn, the place was tidy.
"Kyle, this is Nate." She smiled and faced him. "Kyle is my friend Amy's little brother."
"Yeah, I heard you were around." Kyle held out his hand. "I think I'll call you Gigantor."
Not if he wanted Nate to respond. Regardless, he shook the kid's hand. "A pleasure."
Olivia glanced at a clipboard on the wall. "Anything I need to watch for?"
Kyle eyed the ceiling as if in thought. "No, but if you head up to Devil's Cross, mind the incline. The creek's low."
"Will do. Can you pop up to the house and let Mae know we're going riding?"
"Sure thing." He gave Olivia a fist bump and jogged out of the barn.