Grand Parade (Show Time Fever Book 1)

by Lilliana Rose

  “ … well girls don’t.” His blue eyes caught hers, before quickly looking down at the ground.

  Megan swallowed hard, keeping her nerve. “Right. And I assume the positioning is the same?” She raised her eyebrow. This wasn’t the line of questioning she’d meant to take, but she began to enjoy his discomfort.

  He nodded. “On the outside between the back legs.” He lifted his hand and pointed. ‘You can see clearly there on Bruce. Unless they are a steer, they have had their balls cut off when they were young, but you can see their… um… dick towards the back on their underbelly.’

  Megan nearly choked from his explicit explanation. She’d asked the question, pushed on with it enjoying his reaction, and now it was her face blazing hot with embarrassment. Any thought of taking photos, or a headache completely left her mind, as she stood next to Jackson mortified.

  “You asked,” he said a little defensively.

  “How do you tell them apart? That’s what I meant to ask.” Megan tried to recover from asking such a sexually based question. She couldn’t help feeling she projected her inner thoughts. They were definitely there, but she wanted to keep them to herself and enjoy them in private.

  Especially later tonight. Not here, in the muck of the shed, the stench of animals, and in front of the man she was lusting over. Though it was like the surroundings had an earthy charm, which drew out her inner animalistic desires.

  “I saw them as young-uns, cared for them while they grew up, so I guess I know them.”

  “Yeah, they look the same to me.” The heat lingered on her face, the shame burning a reminder for her to think about what she should ask.

  “Look at them.” He pointed to the first cow. “See Penny has larger eyes and Jin is taller, a slightly deeper color, and there’s a mark under Ninny’s left eye.”

  Megan followed Jackson as he went over to where cows stood, standing roped in the stalls, casually swishing their tails, nibbling on hay as if they were quite at home with the hum of the show outside, of people screaming on carnival rides, and loud music, different songs competing with the announcements. Jackson pointed out the differences, and suddenly Megan saw the cows individually.

  “You have to look at the smaller details. It becomes natural after a while.” His large brimmed hat shadowed the genuine expression on his face. He stood, broad shoulders relaxed, standing next to Jin holding the cow under the chin as if she was normal.

  Megan lifted her camera, and quickly focussed, and took the shot, before Jackson realised what she was doing. She hated it when people posed. They changed the natural look that she was hoping to capture.

  “Hey, I wasn’t ready,” he protested. “Take it again.”

  “You were fine,” said Megan.

  Jackson stood up straight with big grin. “You’ve got to get my best side.”

  Megan sighed. “You’re being a bit… girlish.”

  The mock surprise on his face was worth the cheeky comment, and she quickly took a few pictures, capturing his shock.

  When he realised she was still shooting, he poked out his tongue and crossed his eyes. “Jin and me make a good pair, right?” Jackson put his head close to the cow’s.

  Megan stopped taking photos when she started laughing too much. “Somehow, I don’t think that those pictures are going to make it into the paper.”

  “Let me see.” Jackson let go of the Jin’s lead rope and stepped behind Megan to look at the camera screen over her shoulder.

  His heat enveloped around her and she resisted the urge to lean back into his chest as she pressed the buttons to bring up the images. He chuckled as she scrolled through them, the noise pleasant in her ear. His breath tickled her neck. “They are great. I’d be very disappointed if they didn’t make tomorrow’s paper.”

  Megan could tell from the amused tone of his voice that he was joking. “My editor has a good eye for placement in the paper. I’m not sure you’re going to get past her.”

  “What a shame.”

  Megan laughed gently, enjoying Jackson’s banter. Everything else melted away, the deadline with the photos, her headache, the fact her memory wasn’t working too well. Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, she looked around, to avoid him noticing her blushing.

  A banner was strung above the Jin and the other two cows. Sunnydale Murray Greys ~ MT & KA Sunny.

  There was an image of the head of a Murray Grey on the right, in an oval shape, like something she would do with a portrait for a person.

  “Sunnydale?” Megan became aware that Jackson stood next to her, his heat mingling with hers and fuzzing her mind. She didn’t want to move. Ever. Just stand here with him. Well, her thoughts turned dirty, and then she didn’t want to stand here with him, but had an urge to go somewhere private.

  “Name of my farm,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Under is the breed of the cattle we have. They are bred for beef, and Matt is my dad, Kim my mum, and Sunny our last name. Hence the farm name of Sunnydale, which my great-grandfather came up with after he arrived in the late 1800’s when land was free for settlers.”

  Megan’s mouth gaped a little. She had no idea of farm life, even little details like this she found fascinating. “You name your farm?”

  “Yeah. What’s so odd about that?”

  “My family hasn’t named our house.”

  “Not quite the same.” He smiled at her.

  Relieved he wasn’t taking what she was saying personally, Megan raised her eyebrow. “No?”

  He made a soft humph noise which vibrated straight to her heart, stirring emotions there that she didn’t want to recognise after meeting someone so soon. “No. It’s just a tradition. Some houses in the city have names.”

  “Not the small ones.” She clamped her jaw shut, realising the difference between the modest home that her dad owned compared with the acreage of Sunnydale. She shifted her feet uneasy, unwittingly moving a little further from Jackson as they stood near his cattle. “Like I said, I don’t know anything about farms, or living on a farm.”

  “There’s not much to it.”

  Megan sensed he was looking at her, soaking in her features and she resisted the pull to glance back at them, focusing instead on the line of cow bums. Tails flicked casually, making a sharp swishing sound. One of the cows turned their head around and looked at them with big brown eyes, her mouth chewing on some hay.

  “I don’t know much about city life.”

  “There’s not much to it,” answered Megan quickly.

  The uneasiness between them broke. She glanced at him, catching his cheeky grin, and being rewarded by seeing his sexy features that flamed her new desires. She pushed them away quickly, suddenly realising that if she didn’t get these photos into the office here at the show then there would be no chance of any of her photos being used. Her enjoyment with Jackson faded as the reality-check took hold.

  “What’s wrong?” He stepped aside to look at her, hand protectively on her arm. “Is it your head?”

  She glanced away from his intense expression of concern, shaking her head. “I’ve got to get a few more shots, then I have to get the images into my editor, otherwise I won’t have any chance of collecting a pay packet this week.”

  Megan loved taking photos, but hated how she was paid as a contractor who needed to deliver a certain number of pictures. It kept her on her toes, but this afternoon it was turning out to be too much, with her struggling to concentrate with the pleasant distraction Jackson was providing.

  “Right, then you tell me what you need and I’ll help you meet your deadline.” His serious expression touched her heart.

  “I want to get up there.” She pointed to the top of the stalls. “Over on that side, so I can look along the full length of the aisle.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’d hate for you to fall and hurt your head again. You need to be careful.”

  Megan didn’t feel like being careful anymore. I had a bump on m
y head. I’m not an invalid, and I’m fine. But, she bit back the words. Instead, she moved to the end of the corridor, stretched up and put her hand on the top of the stall, ignoring the splintery, rough wood. She pushed down to heave herself up.

  “Wait.” Jackson rushed to help her. Her put his hands around her waist, taking her weight, helped her to get up on the stall.

  Megan peered down to see him glaring up at her. She felt a little guilty for stressing him out, and causing him to worry about her. He shouldn’t. We don’t even know each other. The last few hours had caused a bud of attraction between them and she wanted to see how that could bloom, but then she had to do something reckless.

  “Don’t worry about me so much,” she said. “Please.”

  “I know how serious head injuries can be.” He climbed up to stand by her side.

  Megan sighed, realising that she wasn’t going to convince him not to be concerned for her. “Because of what happened to your sister?”

  Jackson nodded. “Yes.”

  She didn’t want to push the topic further so she stepped carefully onto the bale of hay. Vertigo took hold. She swayed, nearly losing her footing.

  “Careful.” He put a hand on her waist, stopping her from tumbling over the edge. His firm hold pushed her back to the center of the top of the stall, which was about two meters wide.

  “Thank you.” Megan took a deep breath to steady herself. Jackson standing close to her was a big help. She glanced over the edge, leaning forward against him. She shuddered, grateful she hadn’t slipped. It would’ve resulted in a nasty fall.

  “I need to get close to the edge.” The dizziness still moving in her head made her take precautions. She went down on her knees, shimmying forward, pleased he held her arm. Getting close to the edge, she put her camera to her eye. It wasn’t quite the view she was hoping for. But, she took a few photos, suddenly thinking that all she wanted to do now was to get back down to the ground.

  “Done.” She eased herself further back and allowed him to help her rise. His rough hand sent a bolt of lightning up her arm, making her lightheaded in a different way. He paused next to her for a moment as if he was caught in the same daydream with her. Then he let go of her hand, and reality set in with a disappointing thud in her stomach.

  I can’t like a man so quickly. It was the softness in his eyes. The way his grin spoke of his kind heart, and the open and honest facial expression that drew her in. Along with his toned muscles and tight arse of course.

  “Get down carefully. Sit on the edge here and I’ll help you.” He jumped down easily, turned quickly and held out his hands as if ready to catch her.

  “I’m not jumping.” She couldn’t do what he’d just done. As much as she wanted to get down and be close to him once more, she hesitated on the edge of the stall. Her five-foot, four inch height made this a little higher than his six-foot plus stature.

  The distance to the ground seemed much further than when she climbed up. She’d been so focused on the photos she wanted to take. After a dizzy spell, she wasn’t feeling the best. Even his trusting eyes couldn’t make her simply squat down and jump, counting on him to catch her. Or even his long strong arms that she really wanted to have wrapped around her body.

  Nope, I can’t make myself do it. She shook her head, partly in disappointment. This was the perfect chance to throw herself at a guy she was attracted to but her legs were turning to jelly for all the wrong reasons.

  “That’s okay. Just put your foot here on this drum. It’s not that far down. Then I’ll help you the rest of the way.” He stepped closer patting the top of a metal barrel.

  She sighed. She didn’t want to be up here for the remainder of the afternoon.

  “That’s it. Nearly there. Just a little further.” His words of encouragement helped to steady her. She clung to the splintery wood and eased her left foot downward. Her mind fogged and she gripped the wood tighter, stopping herself from tumbling down, just.

  “There you made it.”

  Her boot felt the drum and she eased her weight to make sure she was balanced before lowering her right foot. She was aware of her expensive camera dangling from her neck and her handbag off her shoulder. I should’ve put them down. But, she’d committed to climbing off the wall and it was too late to do anything now. Granted, the handbag was a cheapie, but the camera was the last gift her mum had ever given her.

  “Slowly, slowly,” said Jackson.

  She felt his hands wrap around her left foot, steadying her that little more, which gave her more confidence in trusting him, and getting down with his help. Her right foot settled on the drum. Megan let out a nervous giggle.

  “Now, jump.” He reached up, his hands over the sides of her hips.

  She looked down and paused. It wasn’t as far, and she wasn’t sure about trusting him, but his relaxed expression and gentle tone melted away the last of her doubt. She leaned forward.

  “Rest your hands on my shoulders.”

  She did what he instructed, placing her hands on his shirt, feeling his muscled chest. Then, she bent her knees a little, and sprung up, jumping away from the metal drum. His hands wrapped around her waist while she was in the air, guiding her to the ground, slowing her speed so her feet landed gracefully, and easily, without much impact.

  “Oomph,” said Megan.

  He was so close to her. Her camera nearly touched his chest. It was suddenly an obstacle in the way of getting even closer to him, stopping her from leaning into him, from resting her head once more on her shoulder and allowing his strength to envelop her.

  Megan didn’t notice her handbag slipping down her arm, as she looked up into his eyes, frozen in time, with her hands on his shoulders, his hands on her hips as if this was the most natural position between them both. I want to kiss him.

  The thought filled her mind along with the aching fog from the head injury.

  Jackson leaned towards her, reading her expression. She felt the gentle heat of his breath, intensifying as he came in closer, slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her.

  A horn noise blasted from her handbag. She jumped. Damn. The moment between them shattered as the loud intrusive sound repeated. Jackson’s hands slipped from her waist. Disappointment clung tight in her throat. She reached into her handbag for her phone. She’d deliberately selected the loud tone because she had a habit of not hearing when she had a message or phone call.

  “It’s my friend,” Megan said. “She’s here at the show.”

  Chapter 4

  Megan still wanted to get a few more photos before going to the office. She walked over to Jackson tying a net full of hay at the front of where Bruce was standing. She stepped back automatically, not wanting to get close to the bull again. “My friend finally texted back. Will you go to the sheep pavilion with me so we can meet her?”

  “Sure.” Jackson smiled, obviously noticing her apprehension about the bull. “He won’t hurt you. You may want to turn your phone to silent so it doesn’t upset him.”

  Megan fumbled with her phone, flicking the sound to vibrate, keeping one eye on Bruce. Her head pounded intensely to a march beat. She curled her toes to keep her balance, still looking at the bull. He looked docile, full of muscles, and then she flushed as she looked at his backside, remembering the conversation earlier with Jackson, most definitely male.

  Megan pushed the phone back in the special pocket in her handbag. “I’ll get a few shots of the sheep, before I go to the office. Then, I’ll go home and you can be free of me.” She couldn’t help see a little disappointment on Jackson’s face.

  As her mum used to say, ‘All good things must come to an end.’ And Megan thought with surprise, spending a few hours with Jackson was actually a good thing.

  They walked together over to the sheep pavilion, and it took all of Megan’s self-control, not to reach out and take his hand in hers. As natural as the impulse was, it wasn’t appropriate. She shook her head. No, actually holding hands would
be a good thing. And that scared her even more than Bruce.

  “Megan, over here.” Kristie waved with her free hand. Her other held the lead rope of a sheep.

  Megan waved back and made a beeline to her old school friend, Jackson following close behind. She enjoyed the calm exterior vibe he gave off, even if she thought he worried too much about her.

  “Wait.” Megan stopped, picked up her camera, and took some photos of Kristie with her sheep. She looked pretty much the same as the school days with long straight brown hair tied back in a ponytail, a curvy body build that she wore confidently although she was a touch shorter than Megan.

  Kristie’s grin was just as warm as ever, and after making sure she had a good image, Megan went up and hugged her.

  “My God, that is a hell of an egg on your head.” Kristie’s dark eyes brimmed with the same concern that Jackson had been giving her for the last few hours.

  “I’m fine.” Megan touched her head.

  The bump felt huge. The cut had crusted over and she quickly took her hand away not wanting to infect it. In the mirror at the bathrooms she had a quick glance, but then the drive to get some pictures made her forget. And Jackson. She’d forgotten she had a visible bruise on her forehead for everyone to see.

  “Who’s this?” Kristie looked over Megan’s shoulder.

  “Jackson Sunny,” he answered, stepping forward with his hand stretched out.

  “Kristie Johnson,” she shook his hand. “Where you from?”

  “Up north, near Clare.”

  “He’s got Murray’s,” said Megan, proud that she remembered something about the cattle that he bred and bought down to the show to exhibit every year.

  “You mean Murray Grey’s,” said Kristie with a grin.

  Megan nodded, trying not to go red. There was something wrong with her memory. I need some sleep. “Can I take some pictures?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Talk to me about your sheep.” Megan snapped away, focusing on the frame of each shot. Some had her friend standing next to her sheep. They were White Suffolk, Megan learned, and had to be corrected a few times. She’d had no idea that there were so many different breeds of sheep and cattle, though it wasn’t something that she’d ever needed to think about in the past.