“I don’t want to do that,” she said, feeling resolute. “I want to have my own life. My own land.”
That statement was clarifying.
Because honestly, he had worked her ragged enough today that she had begun to question some things. And yeah, she was having to admit that she was a little sheltered. That she hadn’t done all that much work in her life. She had done a lot of running around in the country, and she had managed to equate that with doing this kind of work. But it wasn’t the same.
She just wished that she could do things half as effortlessly as he could. His body was a machine. Every muscle, every movement contributing to the other. She felt like she was all thumbs. That it took her five hits of the hammer to create the same kind of movement he got out of one. He was more efficient, more precise... It was frustrating. Maddening, even.
Though watching him was...
Well, she was learning a lot. She felt her cheeks get prickly. But she chose not to think too much about that and got into the cab of the truck with him as they drove to the barn.
He parked in front of the old, run-down building, and the two of them got out.
He walked over and pushed the door open, muscles straining. And yet again, she realized she was standing there gaping at the back of Jackson Cooper.
She mobilized herself, scampering through the open doorway as soon as it was wide enough for her to get through.
He came in behind her, and she could feel him. It was the strangest thing. Like there was energy crackling between them. It was more than just his body heat; it was something else.
She turned, and was looking up underneath his jaw. At the square line there, the stubble on his chin, his lips.
His lips were really very compelling. They were turned down slightly, naturally, which gave him a bit of a grim look. An intensity. That was one of the things that had always fascinated her about him. That quiet, brooding intensity. Something she did not have in common with him at all, because there was very little about her that was brooding. She wasn’t quiet, she just avoided things by choice.
She took a step away from him and moved deeper into the barn. “Well,” she said. “This is it.”
He made an amused sound. “Not much,” he said. “Is it?”
“No. I mean, all of it can be revamped.” She looked at him sharply. “I know that it costs money.”
“I know you do.”
“Well, you do a lot of lecturing. So I can’t exactly be sure.”
He walked past her, and she noticed, not for the first time, that he had a very particular scent to him. His skin and soap and the wild. The pine from the trees, and a bit of the earth. “This could be a decent facility, with some upkeep. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to discourage you. I promise.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” she said.
“There is a whole lot of moldy hay in here, though. We need to get it cleaned out. Why don’t you grab a shovel?”
“More chores?”
“Yes,” he said. “Actually, thinking of it as chores is kind of counterproductive. It’s part of the gig. Part of life. Everything in life that you care about, whether it’s your house or the land, has to be taken care of by somebody. I understand on the Maxfield family spread that somebody else does a lot of the caretaking. At our place, the Coopers do the caretaking.”
“And you’re currently caretaking your own ranch?”
“Obviously I have help,” he said. “Which is good for you. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Right, right.”
“Grab a shovel.”
That was how she found herself feeling sweaty and indignant, moving great piles of moldy hay out into the bed of his truck.
“It will make decent enough compost. But you don’t want it in here,” he said.
“It smells,” she said.
“A whole lot of things about ranch life smell.”
“I don’t mind it,” she said, resolute.
“Sure.”
“I really don’t. I was just saying.”
He arched a brow, half of his lips curving up into a smile. “You do a lot of questioning for somebody who just knows, and is fine with everything.”
Her cheeks burned. She didn’t really know why. “I’m fine,” she said, stepping into the corner and grabbing another shovelful of that vile hay.
“Yeah, you seem totally fine.”
“It’s just a lot to learn. I’m happy to. I want to. That really is why I...” Except that would be a lie. She was about to finish the sentence with it was why I wanted you here. But it wasn’t why. The words caught in her throat, and then her gaze caught his and held. She couldn’t seem to look away. And he didn’t look away either. He was close.
Closer than she had realized a moment ago. Or maybe the space around them had shrunk. She didn’t know which. Except, of course that was impossible. But there was something about his nearness that felt impossible all on its own. Like she had been dropped onto an alien planet, into an alien body.
But there was no guide for how this should feel. Living with this man who had captivated her for the better part of a decade. This man who was so unlike anyone she’d ever known, and who she didn’t really know, but who felt like he might be the answer to something all the same.
This was not what she’d dreamed about. But...she had to make what she was feeling something else because the only other option was for everything she’d suspected to be nothing and she couldn’t bear that either.
To have her life just be the same.
To have her whole self just be the same as she’d always been.
His gaze flickered downward, and she realized that he was looking at her mouth. And that was when the tension in her stomach twisted, making her organs roll. Causing her heart to stutter.
And suddenly, her mouth felt like it was on fire. She was just so very aware of it. Had never, in all her life, been quite so conscious of the fact that she had lips.
But she was now.
Because he had looked at them. Because he was standing there, so close. Because they were sharing this space, sharing the air. Because he fascinated her in a way no one else had.
Because he had the answers.
Her heart started racing.
No.
No.
She had never been this close to him. And last night his hands had brushed hers and now he was standing right there. She knew she had to think of him differently now, and not as a man, like she’d always seen him. But she couldn’t make him that. She just couldn’t. Couldn’t force her body to acknowledge what her brain suspected, no matter what she’d tried to tell herself about their connection.