Tonight was one of the few nights in recent memory that he had an honest to goodness date. Sonya was a friend of a friend of a friend and somehow, they’d been set up to meet at Rocco’s, a new Italian restaurant that’d opened in Severton a couple of months ago. They’d exchanged a few messages and Jake was pretty sure they’d manage to have a good night, maybe with dessert at his.
He checked himself in the mirror, assessing whether he hit the criteria for smart casual. Hair was slightly styled but still messy, shirt was unbuttoned at the top, trousers were pressed and fit well enough to show that leg day at a gym wasn’t needed when you ran a farm and rode horses for fun.
Given it was a weeknight, Jake was driving. He saved his beers for when he saw his cousins or weekends when he employed someone to pick up on his morning chores so he could manage to have something of a break. Tonight wasn’t about getting loose through alcohol; it was about getting loose through something else.
Car keys, wallet, watch. He checked for all of them, picking up a jacket from the coat stand on the way out and throwing it on. He was a farmer, therefore it needed to be about minus twelve before he felt the cold, but he’d learned that turning up to see someone who didn’t know him well – or at all – with no jacket when it was technically pretty cold just elicited questions he couldn’t be bothered with.
Tonight was all about Sonya.
Hopefully.
Jake wasn’t entirely sure when the last time he had sex was, which meant it was clearly an overdue activity. There was no guarantee that the night was going to end that way, but he was hopeful. More than hopeful.
His jeep was functional rather than pretty, smattered with mud on the outside. There had been a spare ten minutes this morning where he’d managed to wipe down the seat and give it a quick vacuum inside, in case Sonya wanted to come back to his. Experience a ride on the farm.
He flicked on the heated seats, started the engine, wondered if he should’ve had a quick bite to eat of something, given he was famished, and he didn’t want to bolt his food at the restaurant, making himself looking like a heathen.
Jake’s farmhouse and Lainey’s shared a private road that led from the main lane that ran into town. It was almost a mile long and full of potholes which one day he’d get round to fixing, or maybe he’d let his new neighbour do that.
She looked nothing like he’d expected. He’d thought the farm would’ve been bought by someone older, someone who didn’t wear make-up or look like she had her hair done, not someone who looked like Lainey with long blond hair and a body that made her seem more suited for being a model than someone who mucked out stables.
He knew Rayah would castrate then shoot him if she could read his mind.
The road was dark, the jeep coping well with the potholes, some which were probably bigger given the indecent amount of rain they’d had over the last few days.
Bright lights stunned him into going slower as he drove round a bend that then led towards the last stretch to the main lane. He tapped the breaks, bringing the car to a halt, and got out, leaving his lights on, having a feeling he was going to need them.
“You okay there?” It was Lainey’s car, a large four-wheel drive that was hefty enough to pull a horse box, and pretty much brand new. She had a large light illuminating what she was doing, which looked to be changing a tyre.
There was the sound of stones and wet. A curse word said in an accent Jake would only describe as posh.
“I’m assuming this access road is a shared responsibility between the two of us?” Her tone sounded pissed off.
Jake took a few steps closer. “If I’d have bought the farm, it would’ve just been mine, and I wouldn’t have to wait for the person who has shared responsibility to respond to my emails.”
“Not the time to piss me off, Neighbour, and I didn’t get your emails. Maybe they went into the junk folder. The fucking pothole’s shredded my tyre.” She stood up, his car lights highlighting the streaks of dirt across her face and a tear in the tight jeans she was wearing.
Annoyance flared up in him. “You want me to change it for you?” He’d have it done in five minutes, he’d changed enough tyres on a vehicle that size, and in worse conditions than this.
“I’m more than capable of changing a tyre.”
He didn’t need light to know she was glaring at him.
“Didn’t say you weren’t, but I’m probably quicker than you and you’re blocking the road.”
Her hands went to her hips. “That’s just too bad. Maybe if you’d maintained this properly, you wouldn’t be so inconvenienced right now.”
“Just let me do the tyre. You do have a spare, don’t you? Or is it taking up too much space where you can keep youraccessories?”
“The only accessory you need to worry about is the one that’ll be an accessory to your murder.” She flipped him the bird and crouched back down, clearly struggling to loosen the nuts. She had a solid wheel brace and she was leaning on it pretty hard, but it didn't move.
Jake watched. He could have told her there was a pattern to removing lugs that made it easier to loosen them. Probably the tyres were put on at the dealership with an impact wrench, meaning far more torque would be needed to pop them than she could probably get without knowing all the tricks.
Jake sighed and wandered back to his car, opening the passenger door and picking up his phone. He was going to be late; may as well accept that and send Sonya a message. All the time while he was texting he could hear Lainey talking to herself, trying to get the tyre off.
He knew the tyre was going to be heavy and that she likely wouldn't get the lug to loosen, and as much as she was pissing him off, he wasn’t going to let her continue to struggle.
Jake threw his phone back in the car, not waiting for a response from Sonya, and slammed the door, striding closer to Lainey this time.
