“It’s not time for a break.”
“Aren’t there labor laws that mandate I get a break?”
“You’ve been at this for ten minutes.” Liam checked his watch. “Technically nine minutes. We need to get this hay picked up so we can spread new hay.”
Liam left to get new hay. Nathan stuck out his tongue at his back as he walked away. “Technically nine minutes,” Nathan mockingly repeated to himself. He was teased for being too posh yet these sheep got fresh hay like they were staying in a suite at the Ritz Carlton.
Nathan rarely faced the day without coffee. His head was in a ten-point-oh earthquake that wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t do this without coffee. Fuck, hewashung over. Rehab had turned him into an amateur. He would have to rebuild his tolerance, which would be really annoying. His buoy of a head was being slammed by wave after wave of residual liquor. He was so hung over he couldn’t even describe it in metaphors anymore.
Fuck.
“You’re missing some hay.”
“It’s good enough. These animals don’t even use the toilet. They can live with some dirty hay in their barn.”
“Not if it causes infection and disease. I can’t be a sheep farmer if all my sheep are dead.”
“Well, that’s a morbid thought.”
“Nathan, I know you like to think I’m being a prick to mess with you, but this isn’t about you. This is my livelihood.”
“Sorry.” Nathan wished there were easier ways to get to know his new family. But telling the truth still would’ve been more painful than what he was going through this morning.
He could barely see. The headache, the alcohol, it all sloshed together. Ten-point-oh earthquake and tsunamis. It was basically that movieThe Day After Tomorrowinside his skull and stomach. “Are you sure there’s no coffee?”
“No. We can break in a few hours.”
“A few hours?”
“If you need water, there’s a faucet and refillable bottles in the barn.”
“Water?”
Nathan sighed and continued cleaning off the rancid hay. Rancid was an understatement. Everything here reeked. It was like living in the bottom of a public toilet.
After another eternity (or an hour, according to his phone), he was done with the hard part. He brought Liam into the barn and showed him the cleaned floors.
“I did it. Break?”
“You did it? I still see moldy hay on the floor. What do you call that?” Liam kicked at a patch of hay that was really stuck on there. Nathan tried but he wasn’t Hercules.
“It’s good enough.”
“No, it’s not. If you’re going to be a farmhand, you have to take it seriously.”
“The sheep won’t know the difference.” Nathan squinted to ease some of the pain of vision from this epic hangover. Had he ever been this hung over in the past? Probably, but he was smart enough to keep drinking in those instances.
“I’m going to redo it. Bloody…” Liam trailed off.
“This is on you for giving me something so difficult,” Nathan said, although he did feel bad. This was the guy’s livelihood, after all. The only time in his life Nathan used a broom or a rake was to play Quidditch. “I did try.”
“I’ll give you something easier then.” A smile quirked on Liam’s full lips.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I know what you’re going to do.”
* * *
