by Amelia Jade
Two things needed to happen from there. One, he needed to spend more time with her. To figure out why his dragon thought a human was his mate. There had to be something different about her. Palin just needed to figure it out. Secondly, he needed to find a way to either get her more money, or get her more crops, so that he could get her more money.
A plan as simple as that could be coalesced right in front of his eyes.
“I’ll come work the farm with you.”
It was perfect. Now all he had to do was get her to accept, and Palin would have all the time in the world to figure out just how to win over his mate and learn all her secrets. The information he wanted was there somewhere. Now he would be able to look for it.
Chapter Seven
Sandy
He wanted to what?
“Run that by me again.” Her voice was dead. Dull. Emotionless.
“I said I’ll come work the farm with you.”
“No.”
Palin blinked, and for a fraction of a second she was sad as the tanned eyelids closed, obscuring his breathtaking eyes from her. They were so unique and unusual that she sneaked a glance of them at every chance. Like gemstones they glittered and glowed even in the shady confines of her little tent. Maybe they were contact lenses of some sort. That would explain how it worked.
“Sandy. Listen, I need more crops. You said it yourself, you have a farm and you can’t work all of it. I’ll come help you.”
“I can’t afford to pay anyone,” she said, the words making their way around her clenched teeth. It pained her to admit it, but it was the truth. If she had money to bring someone on board, she would. Maybe.
Okay, probably not. The opportunity had been there for that when she first moved to the farm, when there was more money to go around. Now though, it had all been squandered as she tried hard to keep paying her lifestyle. Trying hard, and failing. It was impossible to run the farm on her own.
“You don’t have to pay me.”
Sandy pulled back in surprise and suspicion. “Then why do you want to come and work on the farm?”
His entire body rose and fell as he sighed, clearly understanding just what she was reading into it. “You can pay me in crops, Sandy. That’s what I meant.”
“Oh.” She was a little embarrassed. Sandy didn’t think the best of people, and sometimes it showed. “I don’t know. This is all pretty odd, Palin. There are plenty more crops here you can buy.”
“But they aren’t yours,” he pointed out.
“Mine are nothing special.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I like yours the best. I want more of them.”
He sure was stubborn. Sandy was still against it though. If she said yes, it meant he would have to show up at her farm. Every day. He would know where she lived. Most of all, she would have to spend time talking to him. Not just a little either. With just the two of them they would be spending most days in close company with one another. Was this really something she was ready to take on?
Looking him over once more, Sandy weighed the two sides of the argument. The man was built like an ox, though hopefully he was a good bit smarter than one. With his added strength and probable stamina, she could use a good chunk more land for future crops. That would get her more than enough money to be able to pay the bills and keep the land in her family. Until she died at least. She was the last of the Talberts, but she wanted to do right by her ancestors and make sure that the property stayed in the family.
“Let me get this straight.” She rubbed her forehead, pushing the ball cap farther back. “You want to come work on my farm. Bust your soft-skinned hands with manual labor, all for a measly portion of my crops?”
Palin grinned. “Exactly!”
She hated it when he smiled. She’d barely met him, but every time he did that she lost all willpower to say no. Her brain wanted him around. It wasn’t that hard to understand why either. Any time she looked at him, the answer was obvious.
His golden-bronzed skin, perfectly trimmed facial hair, and eyes that threatened to pull her into them every time she so much as glanced his way. It was a powerful combination that he seemed used to taking full advantage of. Sandy was having a really hard time saying no automatically, which she knew should have been her answer.
Having someone on her farm was not a good idea. Having a male on her farm was really not a good idea. But having an attractive male who was trying to charm her on the farm? That was the worst idea of all.
So why the hell was she leaning toward saying yes? What wasn’t she aware of that would incite such a response within her? Sandy truly couldn’t identify it, but there had to be something. Could it be that she wanted company? Maybe she was horny. Despite her solitude over the years, that was one craving that hadn’t gone away. If anything it had gotten worse, no matter how often she tried to satiate it herself.
Like Muscles here was going to take care of that for her though. He definitely wasn’t interested in her, she knew that. Not with his painfully good looks. No, he was into a certain type, and women in overalls with farmer’s tans were not the type men like him craved.
It was what made his desire to come work for her all the weirder. She couldn’t figure out what it was that made him want her crops the most. Any of a half dozen farmers here could sell him the same stuff, from the same seeds, for the same price, and in greater quantity. She had nothing special about her products that stood out. Just about the only difference was that she was a woman, and she was doing it on her own. That worked great with some people, but most didn’t care.
“I don’t even know why I’m considering this,” she mumbled, her brain torn in too many directions at once to think clearly.
“Why not? It’s a win-win for us, isn’t it? You get free labor and more crops that I could help you plant and harvest.”
How did she begin to tell him it didn’t really work like that? She’d already planted most of her crops weeks or months ago, and only now was she harvesting them. There wouldn’t be much new for the rest of the fall. But if they worked hard, spring would be big.
“I don’t even know you,” she protested.
“My name’s Palin.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “That tells me exactly nothing about you besides your name.”
“Fine. Accept my offer, and when I show up, you can ask whatever you want of me.”
Sandy shook her head. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?”
“Nope.”
“I should tell you to get lost. To go away. Anyone else and I would probably think they were trying to stalk me.” She pulled the hat back into place. “Why the hell don’t I feel that way about you?”
“Because I’m not out to do anything to harm you. You have my word on that.” He peered at her with a sudden intensity. “And I think that maybe there’s a part of you that understands that.”
Sandy rocked backward. How was it that he could read her so easily, like a book open to the page about her? Not only was that uncanny, but she kind of agreed with him. Some part of her believed him, as crazy as that seemed. It was the only reason she hadn’t shut the idea down completely from the start.
Something told her this was what she should do.
Just like that Sandy came to a decision, set in stone, her path thought out, just like she’d done in her old life.
“Fine. Sunrise Monday. Don’t be late.” She gave him the address and then went to go find John while he loaded up his truck.
When she came back her tent was empty except for the stack of crates he’d returned. She looked around the empty space with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
“What the hell have I just gotten myself into?”
Chapter Eight
Sandy
Breakfast finished, she washed the dishes in the sink, letting the sudsy water clean her hands at the same time.
The kitchen faced east, and she could see the first real rays of sunshine creeping over the outline of Barton City in the
distance. Most of the town was invisible, but the downtown skyscrapers stood out in stark contrast to the fields of crops nearby. It was about time to get to work, and Palin was nowhere to be seen.
Figures. I don’t know why I believed him in the first place.
“Come on, Champ.”
He whined for her. Turning, she realized he was already at the front door. Noticing that he had Sandy’s attention, the canine pawed at the door, careful not to scrape his nails against it.
“Drank a bit too much last night?” she teased, drying her hands and letting the water flow down the drain. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Champ just whined some more.
“All right, all right. Let’s go,” she said, laughing as her dog perked up, tail thumping from side to side excitedly. “We’ll go, then you can go.” She cackled hysterically at the pun.
Champ cocked his head.
“Oh come on, that was funny,” she muttered, shaking her head at her best—and only—friend. Grabbing her gear, she opened the door and promptly screamed and slammed it shut.
There was a body on her front porch. Just lying there. It was huge. Massive. It was probably swollen all grotesque-like. How long had it been there? Who put it there? Who was it? Why was there a DEAD PERSON on her porch?
Shaking, she flicked the lock closed. Police. She had to phone the police. The sheriff would come out. They would take care of this. It was fine. Everything was fine.
She looked around frantically. “Champ? Champ, where are you?”
There was a loud wuff, muffled only by the door. Sandy turned slowly. Oh no. Champ was outside. With the body. What if he’d disturbed it? Would she be in trouble? Would they have to put her dog down?
“Sandy?” The voice came through the door.
She screamed again.
“Sandy are you okay? What’s going on? It’s Palin.”
Palin? What was Palin doing out there?
“Stay away from the body!” she shouted. “I didn’t do it. Don’t touch it.”
There was a long pause. “Uh, what body?” Even through the door his confusion registered with her.
“The one on the front porch!” Why the hell was he so calm? Was he used to this sort of thing?
Another thought struck her. What if Palin had killed them? And was after her! Sandy slid to the floor, moaning softly. It was happening again. She couldn’t handle it. Not another time. Her eyes darted to the rack at the side of the door. Her shotgun was there. All she needed to do was get to it.
Champ started barking happily outside. Weren’t dogs supposed to be good at sensing death or something? She couldn’t remember in her current panic as she slithered across the floor, hoping that the old wooden floorboards wouldn’t give away where she was headed, even as they creaked slightly underfoot.
She’d never realized just how loud they could be when she wanted to move in silence.
Her fingers finally closed over the cold steel of the barrel and she lifted it out, holding it tightly to her, muzzle pointed at the roof.
“Sandy what’s going on in there? Are you okay?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Kill who?!” Palin shouted. “There’s nobody dead out here.”
“There was a body on the porch.”
Palin didn’t reply.
“Palin?”
“Sorry,” he replied, very clearly trying not to laugh. “Sandy, look. There’s no body. That was me. I was asleep.”
“Why were you asleep on my porch?”
“I got here early. I didn’t want to disturb you. So I just took a nap to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to be up this early. Especially with the drive to get here.”
She got to her feet and peered out the peephole. Sure enough, the corpse was on its feet and looking a lot like Palin.
“Back away from the door.” Her voice was firmer now, used to giving commands.
Palin, his face split wide in a grin, shook his head and stepped back, and then off the porch completely.
She opened the door, sticking the muzzle through.
“Whoa!” he shouted. “Easy there, Sandy. I promise you, there’s nothing out here. You can trust me.”
But can I? You’ve done nothing to prove to me you aren’t crazy.
Sandy had half a mind to send him home and tell him never to come back. The entire morning had left her shaken and uneasy. Peering around, she verified that there was no second body, no signs of blood. Nothing to signify a body had been lying on her porch. Palin stood at the bottom of the steps, arms slightly out to his sides. He didn’t look scared.
What stunned her the most was the image of Champ sitting nearby, happily wagging his tail and staring up at the big stranger. Since when did her dog like other men? Whatever, dogs are weird anyway, no matter how much I love the big idiot. After all, he does like to splash around with the pigs from time to time. It was probably nothing. Just a new person for him to get attention from.
“Shall we get to work?” Palin asked, clapping his hands together.
Sandy jerked at the noise, but not nearly as much as she would have two minutes earlier.
He was here; she may as well make use of him and his muscles. It’s not like there was a shortage of work to be done. And if they finished early in the fields, maybe she could get him to help tackle some of the repairs around the barn and farmhouse that needed doing. Palin certainly seemed ready to tackle anything that needed doing as long as she said it did.
Sticking her shotgun back inside and ordering her thundering heart to relax, she closed up and gestured for him to follow her. They were headed out to the northern fields first, to inspect the crops growing there. It was going to be a long day, but Sandy was used to that.
Palin came up alongside her. “Great place you have out here.”
“Thanks.”
“I almost missed the drive. It’s not very well marked, you know. Anyone could just drive on by.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
Palin fell silent. It was too early. She wasn’t ready to be chatty. When they got to the fields, it would be time to work, not talk. By the time the day ended, she would be too tired to chat. Sandy thought it was basically better off if they didn’t speak unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately Palin didn’t agree.
“What’s your dog’s name?” He reached over to give him a few scratches behind the ears.
“His name is Champ.”
She eyed her dog. He’d stayed at Palin’s side the entire time they’d been walking. Traitor. What the heck did her canine companion even see in him? Whatever it was he was far more interested in him than Sandy. She’d gotten used to his presence at her right side. He was no help in the fields, except on the rare occasions she let him help dig holes for seeds. Sometimes his holes were a little off-center. Or too big. But he always had the biggest goofy dog grin on his face when she pointed to the ground and asked him to dig her a hole.
Sandy loved that dog. More than she loved people. Probably because the dog was trained and could be trusted. People couldn’t. If she told Champ to sit, he sat. If she said stay, he stayed. Humans were different. She knew.
“Champ? That’s an awesome name. Hey, Champ!” Palin reached over and gave him some good hearty rubs and pats on the flank. Champ made happy doggy noises and even surprised Palin with a big slobbery kiss. “Argh!” Palin righted himself and wiped at his face.
Sandy giggled. She hated doing that. It was such a girly-sounding noise. The last thing she needed to do was act girly with Palin around. Her eyes were already a source of constant trouble. They couldn’t seem to obey her orders to not look at Palin. Both of them insisted on focusing on his arms, and the way his sleeves pulled tight across his forearms.
He had a long flannel shirt on like her, though it wasn’t plaid, and he’d rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. It was a hottttt look on most males. On Palin? Sandy wasn’t comfortable with describing how she f
ound it. Appealing was the most muted version she could think of. Anything else would be admitting she was in trouble for hiring him.
No. I can’t let myself get caught up in his sex appeal, as undeniable as it may be with his pecs that could double for tectonic plates. Or his rear that filled out the jeans better than any model she’d seen on TV. It was so tight and firm-looking. She just wanted to grab it! Just to see, of course. Curiosity. She wanted to do it for observational purposes, not because she liked him. She certainly did not.
He was big and brutish, and far too talkative for her to like. Plus he was also human, and a male. Those were at the top of her No-Go list. The only thing above them was “Attractive Human Male.” Which he fit. Her current obsession with talking about him even as she told herself she needed to stay cold toward him proved that.
“Do you always open your door with a shotgun in hand?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
“When I’m with someone I don’t know and they aren’t talking to me, making things really uncomfortable? Yes, usually.”
“I like silence. It’s peaceful.”
“It’s also weird that you don’t want to talk to me, or get to know me at all. That was part of our bargain after all.”
Sandy stopped and faced him. “Okay fine. Palin, why were you so insistent on coming to my farm, and why do you need my crops? What’s the secret reason here?”
He grinned. “I’m a dragon shifter on assignment to the military to judge a potential working relationship with them, who just so happened to stumble across his mate at a local farmers market while stuffing his face with delicious hot dogs.”
Distracted by his outlandish words Sandy missed her foot, stumbled forward, and nearly went face-first into the soft dirt. She landed on her hands and knees a split second before Palin reached her.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing off his offer to lift her up. “I can stand on my own.”
Demonstrating this fact she got up, wiping her hands and knees as clean as she could. Great start to the day. A corpse and then a made-up story.
