by Fields, MJ
“These woods...This place changes a person; brings you right back to nature.” She smiles fondly toward the big house.
“Well, some of us clearly have enough sense to wear clothes.”
“If I was your age, and I looked like him, or you, knowing what I do now, I’d have spent a hell of a lot more time naked than I ever did. That’s a fact.”
I drink down my coffee and stand up. Then I give her a peck on the cheek, grab my phone, earbuds, and pull my shades down to cover my eyes as I say, “See you later,” to Mags.
I walk down the path to the barn, careful not to look toward the house, because naked and unafraid may still be out there doing God only knows what on that deck.
How the hell is it that I moved into the middle of nowhere, and all of the sudden, hot-bodied, tree-like men with tattoos seem to be everywhere. It’s just wrong.
Now I know how Eve felt.
I slide the huge red barn door to the side and walk into the dark barn. I pull the John Deere push mower outside then go in and grab the dark red metal gas can, hoping there is enough gas in it to get what I have time to mow done for now.
With a tank full of gas, I pull the cord to start it. I don’t pull hard enough and have to give it three more tugs before it starts.
I pop my earbuds in and turn on the country music that I seem to be enjoying more than I thought I would and turn it up.
“Girl Crush” by Little Big Town plays, and I laugh as I sing along to words I know that never in a million years would I admit to.
I mow around the barn three times, starting closest to it so not to let the grass hit the barn.
The sun is shining down on me, giving me natural vitamin D, the smell of fresh cut grass is wafting in the clean country air, music is blasting in my ears, and I am singing at the top of my lungs, trying to learn the words to a song I heard last night after the cock-thinking caveman walked out of the bar. “It’s Different for Girls” by Dierks Bentley. I put it on repeat so I can learn the words.
When I know the grass won’t fly and hit the barn, I turn around and go the other way, making sure the lines are perfectly straight.
After the sixth time around, I’m singing along, “It’s different for girls when their hearts get broke. They can’t tape it back together with a whiskey and Coke. They don’t take someone home and act like it’s nothing. They can’t just switch it off every time they feel something. A guy gets drunk with his friends, and he might hook up—WHAT THE HELL!” I scream when I feel a tap on my shoulder, nearly jumping out of my own damn skin, releasing the lawn mower handle and nearly walking on air to get away from whatever the hell is after me.
When I am far enough away, I look back and see him, hunched over, arms crossed over his stomach, laughing his fool head off.
“Fuck you!” I scream, pulling my headphones off. “What the hell is with you! I mean, Jesus Christ, you follow me to both jobs then here! Are you a fucking sociopath?”
He doesn’t say a damn thing, still laughing as he turns around and walks around the barn.
“Hell no!” I yell after him as I stomp over and grab my phone out of the fresh cut grass and the handle to the lawn mower, and march my ass around the barn, dragging it behind me.
I stop dead in my tracks when I hear the roar of an engine coming from inside the barn. And when he, that son of a bitch, comes pulling out on the John Deere tractor, black hat on backward, a piece of straw hanging out of his mouth, I am furious, totally fucking furious.
He’s still laughing.
“What is wrong with you?” I yell, throwing my hands in the air.
He cups his hand around his ear and yells back, “Can’t hear you!”
I stomp toward him, ready to give him a piece of my mind, and he has the most...aggravating smirk on his...irritating mouth.
I walk right up to the damn tractor and yell over the engine’s noise, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Climb up here, Phoenix. This thing is too loud. I can’t hear a damn thing you’re jabbering about.”
Fucking asshole.
I look toward the house, expecting to see the owner walking out naked with a gun. Then I climb up on the damn thing.
“Are you trying to get killed?”
“Nah, just trying to mow the lawn.” He grabs my wrist, and then releases the brake, causing the tractor to jerk forward. I’m sure I am going to get thrown off, but his grip is firm enough to hold me in place, and then he pulls me up so I am nearly sitting on his lap.
“Let go of me,” I snap at him.
“Then sit your ass down against the steering wheel and chill the fuck out.”
“You’re gonna stop this and let me off before he comes out and shoots you.” I point toward the house.
“Who’s gonna shoot me?” He smirks as he pulls another piece of hay out of his open flannel shirt pocket.
Holy shit, his body is insane. And the tats...gawww.
“The owner! You aren’t above the law, you know, dipshit,” I say, looking for a safe way out of this situation.
He turns his hat around and pulls it down over his eyes, smiling like a fool.
“This isn’t a joke. I agreed to do some work around here to knock some rent off. You’re gonna mess this all up for me.”
“This guy sounds like a dick,” he says. “Maybe we should just go have it out with him. Tell him, if you can’t drive his fucking tractor to mow his goddammed lawn, you won’t—”
I cover his mouth. “Just shut up!”
He laughs harder, and I let go.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pleading now.
He winks. “I’m mowing the lawn.”
“Unreal,” I say, knowing short of diving off this thing and risking getting crushed by one of the tires, I’m at the mercy of this madman. “I don’t know who you are, or what your name is, but—”
“Morning, beautiful,” he interrupts me and waves.
I look over to see Mags is standing at the edge of the driveway, laughing.
“Good morning to you, young man.” She grins.
“Be back for my coffee. Keep it hot for me?”
“Of course, my boy,” she yells back.
I look at Mags, who smiles as she turns and walks toward the cabin.
“What? How do you know her? Do you work here?”
“Known her most of my life. And I do work here...sometimes.”
He has a smug-ass look on his face while my thoughts are jumping around. Then it hits me.
“Are you—”
“Gage Falcon,” he says, his chest vibrating in a silent chuckle.
“Wait, you’re...” I pause before I say ‘naked and unafraid.’
“The asshole landlord.” He nods. “In my defense, I had nothing to do with your rental agreement. No idea you lived here till...” He starts to laugh.
“This is far from funny.”
“Shirley, the woman at the diner, gave me the lease information. She’s the property manager.”
I gasp. “And you’re fucking her?”
He looks at me like I’m insane. “Does she look like my type, Phoenix?”
“Hell if I know! And you know what, it’s none of my damn business,” I say, giving him a stern look.
He nods then shakes his head. “You live right here.”
“For a couple months,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
“June, July, August. Three months.” He holds up three fingers, but not the normal way; it’s more like an okay sign. “Three.”
“And...?” I say, getting uncomfortable being this close, knowing what I know now.
“I’m just sayin’, three.” He holds up his fingers again.
“Fine, whatever. Take me back.”
“You gotta mow the lawn.” He chuckles. “What the hell are you thinking using the push mower? That would take three fucking days.”
“It takes two full days,” I tell him.
“You seriously pushed this whole bottom ten?”
“I have no idea what bottom ten means, but whatever isn’t overgrown, I’ve pushed.”
He licks his lips, shaking his head. “That’s a hell of a lot of work for a couple hundred bucks.” Then he chuckles. “I’ve got a better idea about how to shave off—”
I smack him in the chest before he continues.
“I’ve had mosquito bites that hurt worse, squirt.”
“Great. Note to self: next time your landlord talks nasty to you, hit him upside the head with a shovel. He may feel that.”
He laughs. “You don’t want to switch it up? Make things easier on yourself? Then you’re gonna learn how to drive this tractor.” He turns around and heads back down the road.
“Where are you going now?”
“Mows better with the mower attached.” He reaches his hand out. “Welcome to Falcon’s Landing, Phoenix. I’m Gage Falcon, and I am gonna make damn sure you enjoy yourself for the next month.”
“What, after that you’re gonna be an overtly sexual jackass again?”
“Nah, I’ll be back to work.”
“Oh, so you don’t work here?”
“I wouldn’t call it work. I actually like being here. It’s a great place to just be.”
I look away from him and at the view in front of us—the lake and trees, a beautiful clear blue sky.
“Yeah, it is,” I whisper, not caring if he heard me or not.
It’s quiet for a while as he slows down, no doubt taking in the beauty of the scene before us. Then he laughs.
“What?” I ask, looking at him.
“It’s different for girls,” he starts to sing, and my face immediately feels like it’s burning up.
“I’m embracing my country side,” I defend.
He reaches down and hits his radio, grabs his phone, and hits a few buttons. “There’s better than that. Check this.”
The music starts, and I can’t help laughing. He does too.
“Deny it’s truth?” he jokes.
“Denied.” Again, I try not to laugh, but fail when he turns it up and starts singing the chorus.
“She thinks my tractor’s sexy. It really turns her on.”
“You are such a...” I pause and shake my head.
“She likes the way it’s pullin’ while we’re tillin’ up the land,” he sings over the roar of the engine and the music.
“Just stop.” This time I do laugh out loud, and so does he. And at that moment, he looks incredibly...normal and very, very sexy.
Something shifts between us, and we both look away at the same time.
We ride down the dirt road, listening to this stupid song. When it changes, I cringe. I hate this song. It reminds me of how I felt the first year of college whenever I went home.
“Break Up In A Small Town” by Sam Hunt. Hell, I didn’t even listen to country, but that song was all over the radio.
My little town looked the same, the people were the same, the stores, everything looked the same. But nothing was.
I saw them together, and they were happy. So was I, until they were in my face, playing my ideal role.
How the hell is it that I was the one cheated on and lied to, yet I was the one who felt like I didn’t belong anymore. How does that even happen?
Gage backs the tractor up to the shed and climbs off before offering me a hand. I refuse.
He cocks his head to the side in confusion, then he narrows his eyes. “Fine.”
I climb down and repeat his word. “Fine.” Then I walk away.
I will be damned if I’m going to let that tree with ink get to me, so I use all of this pent-up energy to push mow as much lawn as there is gas for. He sits on that tractor, shirt open, hat on, straw hanging out of his mouth, looking...so unbelievably sexy as he mowed in the places I had yet to mow.
I push the empty mower into the garage and march up the dirt road toward my home that I now know is owned by the tree-sized manwhore. I need a shower, and hopefully I can take a nap so that I can turn off my mind.
I feel as if I am standing on the edge of a cliff where I will do one of two things: raise my hands in the air, lean forward, and fall, keeping my eyes closed the whole time as the sensation, the feeling of falling, the high of it takes over me entirely, when I know what kind of pain follows the fall. Or, step back where it’s safe and comfortable.
By the time I get back to the cabin, my body is aching and I’m tired.
“Coffee?”
I look over at Mags and smile. “Not right now, Mags, but thank you.”
“You okay?” she asks.
“Tired, sore, probably sun burnt,” I answer.
“So, you met Gage.” She raises a grey eyebrow.
“Yeah, a couple times before today, too. I just didn’t know who he was.”
And I wish I didn’t.
“He’s a good man. Has a big heart, that one. Just hides it.”
I nod. “I’m sure.” Before she can study me anymore, I nod toward the door. “The shower is calling my name.”
Chapter Five
Why Do I Feel…?
Gage
I watch her walk up the driveway and know I fucked up. I should have left it alone this morning. Shouldn’t have even shown my face. I knew last night when I left the bar that shit was going to happen. Brought it too close to home too fucking soon.
That fucking song she was singing is all sorts of wrong. It’s different for girls because they feel too much, get lost in their misery, hang on to shit that wasn’t theirs to begin with. A man fucks you up, you walk and don’t look back. You fuck a man up, he does the same. Unless he can’t, because you are forever bound. But you keep your shit separate. You get over it and move on.
I pull off my hat, run my hand through my hair, and sigh.
Great advice, fuckhead, I scold myself because I’m still living my shit. Got to for Brand. Blood is blood.
Not everyone is all fucking twisted up in the shit like I am.
She has no kids. I know that and everything about her from her application. College graduate, parents still together, siblings, and no marriages. Hell, I looked at her social media shit, too. Not one fucking picture with a guy, not even a damn prom picture.
So, what the hell is she so anti-man for? She isn’t. She just thinks she is. I know damn well how I make her feel. I feel the same way.
Fucking is fucking. And her and I, we should be fucking, not mowing the damn lawn.
I park the tractor in the barn and walk up to see Mags, hoping maybe Phoenix is on the porch with her.
She’s not.
“Got my coffee, Mags?” I ask, trying not to notice the music playing from the cabin next to Mags, or Phoenix singing along.
“For you, my boy, anything,” she says, handing me a cup, and then unscrewing the cap to her thermos.
“Sure it’s just coffee?” I joke.
She laughs. “Never could drink with my three boys running me ragged.”
“We were a handful, huh?” I grin then take my first sip.
“You, never. Your brothers, a different story,” she says, sitting down in the glider I built for her last year. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
I sit.
“You doing good up here, Mags? I mean, it’s gotta get lonely when no one’s around.”
“You and I both know that, with or without people, this place is good for your soul.”
I nod, taking another sip of the steaming hot black coffee.
“How’s that boy of ours?” she asks as I swallow the strongest coffee on the freaking earth.
“Trying to back off,” I tell her, which is true.
“You think that’s what he needs?”
If anyone but Mags asked me that, I would walk. I know it’s out of concern for him and for me.
I shake my head. “No, Mags, been a dad to Brand for five years now; everything’s fucked up.”
“He needs you strong, Gage.” She squeezes my forearm.
“Doing the best I can,” I tell her. “Letting him an
d Juliana fix the broken between them.”
“And here to fix the broken in you?”
I give her a sidewise glance, and she pats my knee.
“He’ll understand when he gets older.”
I nod, knowing she thinks it’s true. Honestly, I don’t want to get into it.
“He’ll know you did it all for him.”
I toss back the coffee. “Yeah.” Then I stand, and so does she.
“Gage, you’re a good man.”
I nod. “Gotta be, right?”
She smiles sadly at me. “You were born to be. You had no choice in the matter.”
I take in a slow and hopefully calming breath, and she jabs me with a sucker punch.
“Are you and your mother talking?”
I know she of all people knows the answer to that, just like I know it’s a nudge to get me thinking.
“We’re all taking a break, Mags.”
“She loves you, Gage.”
“Yeah, well, she has a hell of a way of showing it. She knew Jules’ secret and kept it from me.”
“She didn’t do it to hurt you, Gage. You and I both know that about her.”
“Doesn’t much matter. I’ve been daddy to the boy for years. Come to find out, I’m really not, and she knew.”
“It hurts.” She follows me down the porch steps.
“Hurt is putting it mildly. That boy is my fucking heart,” I say, feeling the tension build. “Gotta go, Mags. Things to get done around here before heading back to reality.”
“Gage,” she calls out, and I stop and turn around to face her. “She loves you. She fell in love with that little boy, too. We all did. He is your boy.”
I nod. “Yeah, he is.”
Standing on the back porch, I look out over the lake and toss back a whiskey, hoping it takes the edge off.
Brand wants a damn horse, which means he will get a horse. Hell, he will get a dozen. First, though, I needed to fence in some pasture.
Should be happy that I got done what I did today. Lots of mowing, lots of area to plant all the shit Mags will love. It’s a good start.
I stand up straight off the railing and look up at the stars. Can’t see them in the city from my apartment.
I don’t know how long I stand looking up at them, but when I look at my watch, it’s past ten at night, and although I should be exhausted, I’m not. Although I should climb my ass in bed instead of throwing on some clothes, I don’t.
