Page 4 of Tied to You

Neither of us want a serious relationship. I’m not ignorant to the fact he likes me more than I like him, but we hook up with no strings attached, no promises of anything going any further. I don’t want that when I’m about to take charge of my life, and he’s busy working. That’s why it works.

Plus, I’m no little woman. If I am going to settle down one day, I don’t want handouts and Prince Charming. I want late nights, scary movies with popcorn and beer. I want a guy who can love me like he worships me and fucks me like he hates me. None of the guys I know have that in them.

Messed up? I don’t care. It’s what I want. And the privileged lifestyle my parents have tried to impose upon me has only made me crave it more.

“Mollie?”

Shit.“Uh, yeah?” I reply flustered, realising it’s been way too long since I saw Henry. I best text him. Meet up with him later.

“You, okay?”

I hum my okay state, then turn shovelling more shit and hay.

“I’m only a call away should you need me.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Mick leaves and I get back to work.

By the time I make it to the goats in the barn, I’m down to my spaghetti strap top tucked into my jeans, my fleece tied around my waist, hat still on, music blaring. I flick my long dark hair over one shoulder and lift my arm. Yep, it’s definitely me that smells like beef. Nice.

Grateful Mick’s nephew is a no show, I untie my fleece from around my waist, then, in an un-ladylike manor, swipe it across my armpits. I attempt to throw it over the gate leading to the enclosure, but it slips over the other side.

“The fuck?” I swear I hear the low rumble of a man’s voice say.

I drag my headphones out from my ears with a snap.Who’s there?“Hello?” I ask cautiously, taking a small step forward. Goosebumps prickle my arms when I stop, looking left and right.

Making me jump on the spot, my fleece is thrown back over the gate. I cry out, startled as I catch it, all arms and legs. “Who’s there?”

There’s a rustle, then as if in slow motion, a tall, muscly figure stands on the other side of the iron gate. I watch in awe as he stretches to full height. It’s like the air doesn’t know how to get inside my body. I try to take a small breath, but all I actually manage to do is make a small noise that even I consider a whimper. Pathetic.

Stood at full height, my eyes rake down the man. His hair is as brown as the earth, cut short, unlike his beard which hangs off his chin. Wearing a black hoodie and jeans with a chain clipped on one side, he looks rugged and rough around the edges. I hold my breath. The dark fuzz on his face looks scratchy, yet all I can envision is scrunching it in my hand as I drag his mouth closer to me.

Why? Why is that my first thought?

Swallow. Breathe.

“You threw your fleece at me?”

I shake my head, my eyes trailing to the baby goat under his arm. He still hasn’t looked up, too busy focusing on angling the goat’s feeding bottle.

He looks like a gentle giant. I’m tall for a woman, but he towers over me. “No, I… I was trying to—”

“Smells like you need a break.”

I gawk, my lips parting. Any inkling of appreciation I had for the specimen before me, vanishes. With a huff, I cross my arms rather dramatically across my front. “Well, you try doing all the jobs I’ve done this morning without breaking a sweat.”

I’m guessing this is Mick’s nephew. I hope so. Otherwise, he’s just a handsome stranger feeding a goat.

Wait, handsome?

“Well, I’m here now. You can take a break, maybe a shower whilst you’re at it.”

Rude. I’ve busted a gut all morning when he should have been here to help. I’m not complaining about the work, it’s just… urgh, why do I have to smell like beef? “I’m good.”

He finally looks up, and I swear I see his eyes widen when he sees me.Shit. What a time to remember I’m not wearing a bra.

My eyes pull up.Fuck.He’s going to see. He’s going to see my nipples through this stupid top.