I chuckle. “Must have just happened, and like I said, those shoes are ridiculous.”
I walk away from him and hear him struggling to walk out of the barn while keeping his foot lifted up, like he can catch something. He makes his way out to a grassy patch and tries his best to clean his shoe, bitching the whole time.
Oh yeah, he’s not going to last long at all.
He stomps over to me and looks like he really wants to say something, but he just glares at me as if I was the one that made him wear white, designer shoes on a farm.
I just decide to go on with what I need to tell him about because I have things to do and no time for him. “They go to farmers’ markets every Wednesday and Saturday. I don’t know if you’ll go or not, but I do. And since we take a lot of stuff with us, I’m assuming they’ll use the cheap labor.”
“What’s a farmers’ market?”
“Damn. And here I thought you weren’t as dumb as you look,” I jab, and I think the guy might break his teeth by the way he’s mashing them together, his nostrils flaring. I hold my hands out in front of me to show him a simple breakdown of the words. “A farmers’ market.” His scowl deepens, and yes, I know I’m being an asshole, but I don’t owe this guy anything. I drop my hands down to my sides again. “Thefarmersbring produce and products to sell at a large outdoormarket.”
His face scrunches up. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”
“You don’t have to be here,” I point out. Hey, maybe he’ll take the hint we don’t need him here and just decide to up and leave overnight.Fingers. Crossed.
His expression is grim, though, and I sense he wants to say so much more than he does. “I’m not going anywhere until the end of the summer.”
I seriously doubt he’ll make it past the week, but really, I have shit to do and am already tired of babysitting him. I point toward the barn. “I live there.”
“What, do you curl up with a cow at the end of a long day?” He looks horrified, like maybe he actually thinks I do that. Which, for a moment, I think about playing on, but I’m in a shitty mood and don’t even want to put the effort into messing with this city boy’s head.
“I live in an apartment inside the barn. In the loft.” Kelly was nice enough to let me use the place the day I turned eighteen. I love my parents, I do. But I had to get out of there. I needed my own space. The loft is small, but I have my own bathroom with a rickety, small shower and a bed. That’s really all I need.
“Explains the stench.”
My scowl deepens, and my jaw hardens as I glance down at his shoes that are definitely not totally white now. “I’m gonnasay that’s those fancy shoes of yours. I have a shower in my loft that I use.”
He looks back at the barn and then back at me, like he doesn’t believe me. I don’t know why that bothers me, but it doesn’t matter. My shoulder checks his as I brush past him. “Bring your stuff up to your new room, I’ll give you an hour before we start. You better be ready for this.”
“You aren’t my boss.”
I spin around to see he hasn’t moved, just planted himself there in the dirt where I left him. “Ask your aunt if that’s true. I’m the only one out here who knows what the hell they’re doing. You’ll be lucky to survive the day.”
I turn back around, not waiting to hear his rebuttal. I don’t need to. I stomp back into the barn and continue to work, hoping to get most of it done before he comes back out here.
I’m not sure what Kelly was thinking, but this is not the kind of help any of us need around here. I have enough to deal with, having gotten my ass dumped by the girl I thought I was going to marry, not to mention my own family. Now I have to keep this city boy alive and supervise him enough so he doesn’t tank the farm?
This is just fucking great.
Yeah.He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. No. I’m not surprised. Not at all, but I do know he somehow doubled my workload today.
The guy is a little on the lean side, but I didn’t actually think he was weak. I was wrong. The guy couldn’t be bothered to lift a bucket, let alone the fifty-pound feedbags. When I hoisted oneinto his arms, he dropped it almost immediately, like he was shocked I’d ask him to do actual labor.
He spooked the pigs just by being there. I guess they’re excellent judges of character because they wanted nothing to do with him. They ran off, squealing and knocking over their own food just as I was doing my best to feed the new baby calves that have to be bottle-fed because they were orphaned last week.
Somehow, Emerson didn’t scare them, but when I told him to take over, handing him the large bottle, he wrinkled his nose and handed it back to me.
I’m tired. I’m dirty. And I’m pissed off as I climb up the ladder to my loft apartment, but when all I want to do is crash on my nice, soft mattress, I know better. I don’t want to get my stank on the mattress I plan to sleep on later tonight, so I strip out of my dirty clothes and head into the shower.
The faucet always sticks a little bit, and I seem to never learn—climbing in before I turn it on and getting blasted with cold water before I can get the dial turned to hot. I hiss from the cold, but it warms slowly, and I wash all the mud and stink off me after a long day on the farm.
It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure. But I do love that satisfied feeling I get after a day out on the farm. I normally enjoy every part of it, but not today. Today, I just wanted to get it over with and get away from Emerson’s bitching and moaning.
I finally got him to help get rid of the hay from the barn and replace it with several fresh bales, but the guy was slow. Lazy as fuck. Just taking his time unloading the truck. And somehow, he still had the nerve to limp and act like he was sore after doing the bare minimum of work. Spoiled ass.
By the time I wash and climb out of the shower, my muscles are aching and my annoyance has skyrocketed. I want to march into the main house and demand Kelly send him packing. Maybeeven threaten to quit. He doesn’t belong here, and she has to know that. But I can’t quit.
