“Think again. You shoved me off a flatbed.”
“It was an accident!”
“Yeah, right.”
“I see you got some better shoes.”
“Not because you tried to break my neck.”
When Sawyer came back and took Digger the Dick into his office to talk, Leon and I drove to Boot City where I got a pair of pretty basic work boots. Leon reminds me of how I felt so many times at his age, after my mom left Nashville, and I felt like I was a wart on my uncle’s butt that he wished would go away.
Before I met Patton and Marley.
Before we joined the military.
Now I feel like I have a family. I feel like I can make a difference and count for something… If only I didn’t have this itchy feeling I might have found something just as fulfilling right here in this tiny kitchen.
Holding the bowl over the skillet, I carefully ladle batter in four little cakes.
“You do use a spoon.” The smug look on her face makes me tug her ponytail.
“Strictly for measuring purposes.”
“Ow!” She bats at my hand.
“That didn’t hurt.”
With an exaggerated sigh, she dumps the egg mixture into an adjacent skillet on the stove and watches it bubble, spreading it around with the fork.
“Who taught you to make hoecakes?” Her head tilts to the side, and for a minute, I’m caught by her bright eyes, curious and sweet.
“Paula Deen,” I blurt, and she laughs. “It’s the truth. Unlike you, they’re the only thing I know how to make.”
Last night she prepared a dinner of fried pork chops, green beans, and mashed potatoes with peach muffins and peach sorbet for dessert. It was the best food I’d tasted in my life—or maybe I was starving from how hard we worked all day. I wanted to be better company, but after one beer, I was doing my best to keep my eyes open.
The only thing that stopped me at the front door of the foreman’s cottage was looking back toward the house and seeing the light in Noel’s window, watching her moving around. I couldn’t help thinking she might be the perfect woman. Last night I chalked the idea up to utter exhaustion.
The tightness in my stomach standing beside her now, teasing, making breakfast, fully rested, makes me wonder if I might be right.
“You’re burning that one.” She points with the fork, and I jump, snatching up a spatula and flipping the hoecakes fast before they all burn.
“Thanks.”
Sawyer and Leon banging into the kitchen puts an end to our joking. They start grabbing plates, and I look out the window to see a truck full of men pulling into the lot. A few teenagers have started to arrive, parking their pickups and hatchbacks in the lot behind the shed.
“Time to get busy.” Sawyer’s voice is all business, and I know he won’t let me hang around to help with dishes.
It doesn’t seem to matter as the entire place shifts into work mode. Sawyer takes one team of men, Digger takes another, and I take a third. We’re either in the fields helping pick fruit or on the dock helping load crates onto the backs of the trailers.
We lift the heavy crates, one by one, onto the backs of the trucks that will take them to the distribution center. My shirt’s off, but unlike yesterday, I don’t feel like the walking dead.
When we hit eight hours, Sawyer calls it a day for the teams. Noel’s still with the teens on the sorters, finishing up what we’ve just harvested. I’ve been watching her all day, unable to keep my eyes from her smooth body, her cute little ass as she bends and lifts crates and carries baskets of damaged fruit.
Her cheeks are pink, and the strands of hair falling from her high ponytail stick to her neck. It gives me an idea.
Taking a cup of ice water, I walk over behind her at one of the large lazy Susan’s, and quicker than she can move, I drop a large chunk of ice down the back of her shirt.
“Taron!” She screams louder than the heavy machinery and poor Betsy drops a peach.
I take off running, but she’s right behind me, snatching a solo cup of ice water off the ledge. Akela starts to bark and chase us, and we don’t stop until we’re down the hill, breathing hard and laughing. She tosses the water at me, but I don’t even care it’s so damn hot. The dog just stands at attention, waiting excitedly for what the hell we’re about to do next.
“What do you guys do to cool off around here?”
“Well…” Her eyes trickle down my bare chest in a way that kicks the temperature up another thirty degrees, then she glances back toward the shed. “They’re just wrapping up. Come on.”
I follow her around the shed to where a three-wheeler’s parked, watching as she throws a bare leg over the seat and pushes down on the starter. It roars to life, and she gives me a grin.
“You getting on?”
I guess I am.
I climb on behind her, bracing my feet on the pegs and holding her waist as she zips over the hills as fast as this thing can go. Akela keeps pace with us the whole way, barking excitedly.
Noel’s body weight compared to mine is not enough to keep me on this seat, and with every bump, I feel like I might fly off the back.
Still, her hair whips around us, and she’s calling to her dog. She rises off the seat with every bounce, and I do my best to keep my thoughts focused on old lady underwear, scowling politicians—every boner-killer I can imagine.
Finally, we’re there. My hands slide from her waist to her hips, and she quickly steps off to the side. Akela stands waiting.
“Fun, huh?” Her eyes sparkle, and her ponytail is wild.
“I’m surprised you didn’t leave me on the road a ways back,” I tease her. “Where are we?”
“Come on!”
She takes off running up a small rise, Akela right with her, and I hop off the three-wheeler to follow them. When I reach the top of the small hill, we’re looking down over a pond shaded by tall pine trees. At one end is a swirl of small currents, and farther below us, deeper in the dark shadows, I see another swirl.
“What is this?”
“It’s the Bates reservoir.” I watch as she toes off her boots, my stomach tight and my insides humming. “It could be a million degrees out here, and the water’s always like ice.”
She jogs down into the shade of the trees and dips her feet in the shallows, letting out a squeal. “Freezing!”
“How deep is it?” I follow her lead, toeing off my boots and grinning like an idiot watching her.
“About five feet, I think.”
She’s still dancing around the edge with her dog, barely getting her feet wet, when without thinking, I race down to where she’s standing and sweep her over my shoulder.
“Taron!” She screams at the top of her lungs. “Don’t you dare!”
“Payback time!”
“Nooo!” She beats on my lower back as I charge into the water, Akela right with us barking, and holy shit! It is like ice.
I don’t let it stop me. I keep going until it’s mid-thigh, when I circle her around.
“Don’t you dare!” Her eyes throw daggers, but she can’t get a grip on my arms.
I toss her forward like a sack of potatoes into the water. A short shriek breaks the quiet before she crashes through the surface, going all the way under.