Page 45 of Chasing Home

Font Size:

Page 45 of Chasing Home

“You’re busy. This is more important.”

His eyes dart between mine as he strokes my wrist again. “What about you let me make it up to you?”

“I’m available for lunch every day.” The words escape me quickly, racing out like they knew I would have tried to keep them in.

Eliza moves from my opposite side, but I can’t tear my attention from Johnny to find out why. It’s like this every damn time. No matter how hard I try to avoid falling into this trap with him, I wind up there anyway. I flounder under the weight of his gaze and, instead of fighting back, allow myself to drift there as if there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

“I was thinking we do something else. Something away from this place,” he says, his first real proposition dropped at my feet.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ve been itching to fix that front porch of yours since I walked you home the other night. What about I come over this weekend with beer and takeout, and you keep me company while I fix it up?”

A tiny laugh of disbelief escapes me as I wait for him to tell me he’s just kidding and offer some elaborate dinner plans instead. I wait and wait, and wait some more for it to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t so much as blink as we stare at each other, and the sincerity in his eyes grows more obvious.

“You want to come spend an evening fixing my porch with beer and soggy, lukewarm food?” I ask.

He dips his chin. “Yeah, Rory. That’s exactly what I want. As long as you’ll be there.”

“Oh,” I mutter.

“Oh . . . yes?”

I smile, just a tiny curl of my lips. “Yeah. Okay, fine.”

His grin puts my smile to shame. Fuck, it’s brighter than the sun. Could light up the world better than it too.

“Sounds like a plan, darlin’. Can’t wait.”

I roll my eyes and distance myself from him a step. “Just don’t be late, or I’ll lock the front door, and you can drink and eat alone.”

If anything, I think my threat excites him. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“So, if you two are done, there’s a cow here that needs to get loaded up and then back to her pasture,” Eliza says, a teasing tone obvious in her voice.

Johnny lets his eyes linger on mine for a beat longer before placing them on the cow again. The immediate loss of his attention makes me feel cold. Alarmingly so.

“Just one time, big girl. One time up the ramp, and I’ll let you go back to eatin’,” he murmurs to the cow, once again using the paddle in his hand to encourage her forward. “Go on. Get going.”

She doesn’t move. Not in one minute or five. She just looks around the field and moves in small circles, as if doing everything in her power to annoy us all. It’s working for me, but not Johnny. I watch him for longer than maybe I should, paying attention to every moment of calmness on his face where I can feel mine growing tense. He doesn’t seem to mind the waiting, and that’s . . . curious.

Eliza meets my gaze once we’ve been standing here for a while. She glances past me at the truck as if asking if I want to leave. I shake my head, content with watching how this will play out, even if I’m out here until the soles of my feet ache.

“Alright, let’s try something else. Please just don’t kick me in the face,” Johnny says.

He moves from the spot he chose minutes ago to the cow’s side and taps the paddle twice to the side of her butt. She takes a single step forward as he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a green cube made of some sort of wheat before offering it to her.

Clicking his tongue, he says, “Let’s go. Get moving.”

Her tongue leaves her mouth and wraps around the green cube before she’s chewing on it and taking another couple of steps forward. Johnny taps her again, so gently I bet she hardly feels it, and offers her another cube when she continues moving.

Finally giving up her stubborn act, she steps right up onto the ramp and strolls into the trailer with a dozen treats in her belly. Johnny gives her a pat on the head when she turns to face us from inside the trailer as we watch at the bottom of the ramp.

“Good job, Johnny. She’s a greedy one. Let everyone else know that she needs treats for motivation, and it should be easier next time,” Eliza says.

“Will do. She’s a sweet one, though. All the stubborn ones are deep down,” Johnny replies, staring right at me with a smirk that I want to give a hard flick.

He’s got one thing right. I am stubborn. But I need a lot more than a handful of treats to obey anyone’s orders.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books