“I was on the phone with a well company in Laramie when Earl showed up,” I blurt. Anything for normalcy. “I know when I’m in overmy head, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to dig a new well here, and that is definitely over my head.”
He grunts and aims the hose lower, andoh my God, I haven’t had a man shower metheresince I was a newlywed.
I’m in jeans too.
I shouldn’t be having a reaction to a cold stream of water aimed at my pubic bone over thick denim.
But I very much am, and no small part of me wants to spread my legs and ask him to get up between my thighs.
“I set an alarm on my phone so I wouldn’t miss Junie’s game,” I blurt to cover my discomfort, which might not be discomfort at all. “I don’t know why I didn’t hear it. But it has to be somewhere back in the mud. I was on the phone when Earl showed up, so I must not have dropped it down the well. And I must’ve set the alarm wrong. I didn’t realize how late it was getting. That happens when I’m hip-deep in a project, which is why I set the alarm. Unless I forgot to set the alarm. Or maybe I set it for a.m. instead of p.m., and I’ll be getting a rude awakening about three thirty tomorrow. And—”
“Maisey.”
“Yes?” Oh God, he’s getting my thighs. He’s spraying and stroking my thighs. My quads. My hamstrings. Inside my thighs above my knees. That ticklish spot on the outside of my thighs.
Breathe breathe breathe, Maisey. Breathe.
I’ve threaded my hands through his hair, and I’m hanging on for dear life and pulling his face to my crotch.
“You’re not the first woman I’ve hosed down. Cool your jets. You’re fine.”
I unclench my fingers and leap back from him. “I should go check on Junie.”
“You’re dripping wet, and your ass is still covered in mud.”
“I’ll strip in the laundry room.”
Our eyes connect, and oh. My. Holy. Smolder.
Flint Jacksonwantsme.
Because he’s a horndog and wants anything with breasts and an ass?
Or because he wantsme?
He clears his throat and leaps to his feet. “Here. Almost done. Finish yourself. I’m late. For—something.”
He shoves the hose at me and leaves me standing there on the side of my house, gaping at the new mud hole that we’ve made while trying to clean me off.
My teeth chatter.
Goose bumps pebble across my soaked skin.
Flint’s truck roars to life, and a moment later, I hear tires spinning out on gravel.
Like he can’t get away from me fast enough.
There’s a screech and the sound of tires sliding over gravel at the exact moment that I remember his aunt is inside with my daughter.
“Opal!” His voice echoes across the ranch. “Time to go! I’m late.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, sigh, and head for the back door and the laundry room.
I knew coming here would be hard. I knew there would be wrenches thrown in the works and hiccups I never saw coming.
But even in my wildest doom predicting, it never crossed my mind that I’d be hurting over being rejected by Junie’s cranky math teacher.
Chapter 11
