by Lexi Aurora
He smiled again. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Good,” I said. “Now give me the hammer.”
“I’m not really going to make you do it,” he said, picking it up. “I was just kidding.”
“No, give it to me,” I insisted, holding my hand out. He handed me the hammer, a small smile on his face.
“Think you know how you use that thing?”
“I’ve swung a few hammers in my life,” I said, smiling at him. He laughed, handing me a nail.
“I’ll hold it,” he said. After a few tries, I managed to do it right, but not before he laughed and teased me for my bad aim.
“Are we finished?” I asked him. He nodded slowly. We were still crouched down, still facing each other.
“I have something to show you,” he said. “I—”
“Cooper!”
The voice came from the house. Cooper stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans, and reached out to take my hand. I took his and he helped me to my feet, his eyes on mine. For a moment, I thought he would kiss me again—he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, leaning into me, but before he could do it somebody called his name again.
“What do you want, Abigail?” he shouted back, a tone of annoyance in his voice.
“Mom wants you in the kitchen,” she said. “Your stupid brothers left her here to cook by herself.”
“Coming,” Cooper said with a sigh, looking at me.
“Looks like I’m on kitchen duty.”
“You gonna leave me out here again? Make me clean out the goat pen?”
He laughed, looking almost bashful as he ran his hand through his hair. “No, you can come with me. Know how to cook?”
“That’s one thing I do know how to do,” I said to him. In one of the foster homes I’d lived in, my foster mother had always had me by her side in the kitchen. I hadn’t stayed with them for two years, but memories of being close to her, of feeling like family while we were cooking still lingered every time I was in a kitchen cooking the way we used to.
“Good. Ma’s going to put you to use either way. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t,” I said to him. For a moment as we walked, there was no tension between us, just an easy silence during which I sometimes caught him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. I smiled at him once, unable to help it—though I didn’t like Cooper very much, it had been nice to have a soft moment with him. I only hoped that we continued to get along; there was no way I was going to convince him to sell his share if we were fighting all of the time.
We got back to the house to find Marie in the kitchen, bustling around. She shot us both a look when she came in.
“You, pretty girl, you know how to cook?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said to her. She gestured for me to go to the stove.
“Try and do something with that stew. It’s a new recipe and it’s not working out. Doesn’t taste right.”
I nodded, doing as she said, lifting the spoon to my lips to taste the broth of the stew. I searched the cabinets for a moment, finding the spices, starting to throw them in a pinch at a time. Cooper watched me for a moment with amazement on his face, as if he was doing magic tricks. I smiled over at him and he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, a sly smile on his face.
“You’re on dishes, Cooper,” Marie said, and I snickered to myself as he protested like a kid.
“I can help with the food, ma.”
“And you can help with the dishes,” Marie said in a stern voice. “Go get on ‘em.”
“Okay, mother,” he grumbled, going to the sink. Marie caught my eye and winked at me.
“That’s how you keep these boys in line,” she said.
“You must have had a rough time when they were all kids,” I said. “A bunch of little boys.”
“My sisters were worse,” Cooper said. “Always in trouble.”
“It’s true,” his mom said. “Abigail was a terror. Always breaking something. Cooper here was actually a good boy.”
“So what happened to you?” I asked Cooper teasingly. He gave me a small smile and went back to washing the dishes.
By the time dinner was done, I could hear people out in the dining room, all of them talking and laughing while we finished up. I helped Marie and Cooper carry dishes out to the dining room, where Cooper’s brothers and sisters were, along with a few people I didn’t know and John, the teenager.
“Hey, Lola,” Cooper said, grinning at a red-headed woman who sat next to John. She was older than both of us—probably Marie’s age, but the look she gave Cooper wasn’t at all the look of a family friend. She stood up, wrapping her arms around him.
“So good to see you, Cooper,” she purred. I eyed her as she looked at me, a smile on her face.
“Who is this? New—”
“An employee,” Cooper said, glancing over at me. “She works at Maverick.”
“I see,” said Lola, looking at me with disinterest. She turned back to Cooper.
“Come sit next to me, Cooper. I want to hear all about what you’re doing here.”
“Okay,” he said, his eyes on me for a moment as they crossed the table and sat next to each other, John on the other side. I sat across from them, trying to keep my eyes off of Cooper. Something within me went hot when I saw how he looked at the woman, again flirtatious, and it irritated me for some reason that I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Thanks, everyone, for coming,” Marie said warmly when we were all seated at the table. “I’m especially thankful for our new friend, Violet, for helping make this food somewhat edible.”
“Everything looks great, ma,” said Jane. “And Violet.”
“I helped,” Cooper said. I snorted.
“You did the dishes.”
He beamed at me. “But it was very helpful, wasn’t it?”
“It was very helpful, baby,” Marie said. “You’re a good boy.”
Cooper made a noise that made me laugh, and his eyes met mine with a playful look. Everybody started to eat and the conversation grew loud and raucous, seeming like everybody was talking over each other—but it was warm and comfortable, and I found myself laughing often at something one of Cooper’s brothers or employees had said. By the time dinner was over, I was full and comfortable, and I felt like I had spent half the time with my eyes on Cooper, who seemed to be having the same problem as me.
We got up after dinner, everybody stretching, about to make their way out to the patio before everyone left for the night. It was cooler outside than it had been during the day, and as we sat outside, I watched the lightning bugs light up the night sky, hovering just above the ground. It really was beautiful—and I felt comfortable sitting there, enjoying the breeze. I noticed that I didn’t see Cooper or Lola anywhere, but I tried not to let it bother me as I sat there. Instead, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and enjoyed the night air.
“Cooper!” Marie called out. “Where is that boy?”
“I’ll go find him,” I said, the words slipping out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. I got up and opened the sliding glass door to go inside, slipping in quietly. I could hear Cooper’s voice along with Lola’s, coming from the kitchen. I found myself walking quietly, standing at the door, nervous to interrupt but knowing that I had to.
“So, Cooper,” I heard Lola say in a seductive voice. “The rest of the kids are out tonight. If you want to come by...”
“Oh, I’d love to,” Cooper said. “But I’d better not. I’ve got a lot of work to do while I’m here. Better not get too distracted.”
“Coop,” the woman said, and I could hear the pout in her voice. “Aren’t you interested? Or is it that girl you brought—Violet? You seemed to be looking at her an awful lot.”
Cooper chuckled. “Does Violet look like my type?”
I felt something burn in my stomach at the words, something hot and angry.
“I’m not interested in her at all,” Cooper said, his tone defensive. “I don’t even like her.”
“Oh,” said the woman. “But—”
“Listen, Lola, I would love to come home with you,” he said in a low voice. “But—”
“Where’s Cooper?” came a voice behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I turned to see Abigail coming in through the glass door. “Is he in there?”
“I think so,” I said, pulling quickly back from the door so it didn’t look as though I was listening. My heart was pounding in my chest, so hard it was almost painful. “I—I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Are you okay?” Abigail asked, frowning.
“Yes, I just—tired,” I said to her. “Not used to working on a farm.”
“That makes sense,” Abigail said. “Well, don’t bother saying goodnight to the others. They’ll just keep you up. I’ll tell them you’re tired and not to bother you.”
“Thanks, Abigail,” I said, already hurrying past her and up to my room. The anger I was feeling toward Cooper was massive, all-consuming as I laid there in bed, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, I had allowed myself to think that he might be interested in me—not as a lover per say, but as a person. But I’d heard the words coming straight from his lips; Cooper didn’t like me, wasn’t at all interested. I forced the thoughts out of my head—I had never really let a man make me feel bad about my body, not since I’d grown into it and decided that no matter what, I was going to love my curves without comparing them to any skinny girl. But something within me raged, thinking about his words and angry that he had kissed me when he hadn’t even been remotely interested.
It was about an hour later that there was a knock on my door, and I stared over at it.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Cooper,” he said. I sighed and thought about not opening it, but got up and did so anyway. I glared at him, his look of innocence. Not only was I angry, I felt hurt—for a moment, Cooper had kissed me, he had laughed with me, and now he was telling people that he didn’t even like me for who I was. I didn’t blame him, but it still stung to hear—especially after we had seemed to get along so well today at the gate.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“I’m trying to sleep?” I said. “And you’re here bothering me?”
“Sorry?” he said slowly. “What?”
“What do you want, Cooper? You’re making me do hard labor every day and you won’t even let me sleep?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Just go away,” I said to him, shutting the door in his face. I took a deep breath, lingering when I didn’t hear him move on the other side. I was tempted to throw the door open again, to yell in his face, but instead I locked it and went back into the room.
“Won’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?”
“I don’t like you. Go away.”
I heard him sigh on the other side of the door and left him there, climbing into bed.
Chapter 8: Cooper
I nearly growled as I went back to my room, confused and furious. I had thought that we were getting along better today—I wasn’t going to let myself be drawn in completely by Violet, knowing of her betrayal, but the constant tension and fighting was wearing on my nerves. I was worn out and managed to sleep eventually, but not after sitting there and letting it nag my mind, wondering what her problem was after a day of getting along. Violet had no reason to be angry at me as far as I knew, and I had every reason to be angry at her.
In the morning, I got up later than usual, went downstairs to the scent of breakfast cooking. I walked to the kitchen, pausing when I heard my mom talking to Violet in the other room.
“What exactly do you do at Maverick?” my mother asked. For some reason, I didn’t go in, but lingered outside. I wanted to hear Violet’s answer, wondering if she would lie to my mother as she did to me.
“I used to be an assistant to the CEO, but I got demoted,” Violet said. I raised my eyebrows as I listened, confused.
“Oh, why did you get demoted?”
“Boss decided his friend’s daughter would do better,” Violet said in a bitter voice. I gritted my teeth just thinking of Dirk, how he was exactly the kind of person who would prioritize friends of the family.
“That’s terrible,” my mom said. “Did you tell Cooper?”
Violet gave a dry laugh. “I’m sure he knows.”
“He might not,” my mother said.
“Cooper’s a board member. He probably knows everything that’s going on there.”
“Bless your heart,” my mom said. “But you still work for Maverick—that’s something to be proud of. It’s a good company. A prestigious company. I’m sure your parents are proud of you.”
“Both of my parents are gone, actually. I don’t have any family of my own,” Violet said in a slightly sad voice. My mother apologized, but I heard Violet brush it off.
“It’s no big deal,” Violet said. “It was a long time ago. But I appreciate you making me feel so welcome here. It’s nice seeing families together.”
“Well, you’re always welcome here, Violet,” my mother said. “That stew would have been nothing without you.”
Violet laughed. I went inside then, feeling guilty the more I listened. I’d had no idea that Violet had been demoted, nor that she didn’t have a family. I hated myself in that moment for the power play, for testing her so hard, for making her work to go to the business branch when she deserved to go there in the first place. Both Violet and my mother looked up at me when I walked in, and Violet’s lips pressed into a thin line, a look of hatred on her face.
“Good morning, lazy bum,” my mom said to me, coming over to kiss me on the cheek. “Violet and I were just getting to know each other. She’s a good girl.”
“Is she?” I asked. My mother nodded firmly.
“You’d better be nice to her,” she warned. I laughed.
“I’ll do my best, ma,” I said.
“Good,” said my mother. “Now get something to eat and go bring me some eggs. Nobody collected from the hens yesterday and I’ll bet they’re being idiots.”
“Alright,” I said to her, glancing at Violet. “You up for that?”
“Yes,” she said in an icy voice. I rolled my eyes at her, sitting down to eat. When we were finished, we went out to the hen house, walking in a stony silence that seemed to make my skin crawl. I turned to her once we got to the hen house, my back to the door.
“What is wrong with you, Violet?” I asked her. “Why are you suddenly so angry?”
Her lip curled up in a snarl. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“No,” I said, looking into her eyes. “Tell me.”
“You kissed me,” she said. “And I—I hated it. It was wrong. You’re disgusting.”
“It was wrong,” I agreed. I had lost control in that moment, I knew—I shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place. “But you didn’t hate it. You can’t lie about that.”
“I did,” she said defiantly, looking up at my face. “And I want you to apologize and promise you’ll never do it again.”
“I will never do it again. I’m sorry,” I said to her.
“Good,” she said, trying to push past me to the door to the hen house. I put my hand out to stop her, touching her shoulder, making her shiver as she stepped back.
“You think we’re done here?”
“I think it’s time to get to work, yeah,” she said. I shook my head.
“I don’t like this attitude,” I said to her, knowing that I was digging at her, knowing it would get under her skin. Every time she made me angry, I thought about why she was really here, what she was doing.
“So?” she asked.
“That kiss,” I said. “Was a mistake. But you loved it.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, though her eyes told the truth.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it, either,” I said to her. Her brow furrowed.
“Don’t say that,” she snapped. “I’m not even your type,
remember?”
“Wh—”
She pushed past me then and into the hen house, though I would have stopped her if she’d gotten the chance. All around her, the hens went up in a tizzy, squawking and flapping their wings. Violet let out a soft scream, covering herself as they all fluttered around her. I laughed.
“They’re just chickens,” I said to her. The corners of her lips twitched up into a smile, despite herself.
“I wasn’t afraid,” she said.
“Oh, you were so afraid of the chickens,” I teased her. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she looked around.
“So what now?”
“Here’s a basket,” I said to her, putting it in her hand. “Gather eggs.”
“Do I just—reach underneath them?”
“Yep,” I said. “You can. Or you can move them. But they might peck.”
“No, thanks,” she said warily. She tentatively approached one of the hens, reached forward hesitantly to take one of the eggs. The hen pecked at her and she snapped her hand back. Again, I laughed, and when she looked at me, she started to laugh too.
“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching up again. She grabbed the egg before the hen could peck her.
“See?” she said, glancing at me over her shoulder. “I can do it.”
“You’re a regular cowgirl,” I said to her. “Good at working on a farm.”
“Thanks,” she said softly, giving me a coy look before she started to collect the eggs again.
“You should talk to them,” I said to her. “It’ll calm them down.”
“What do I say to a bunch of chickens?” she asked me.
“Whatever you want,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. She started talking to the chickens in a quiet voice.
“Chickens,” she said. “What can I give you to make you peck this man’s eyes out?”
“Corn,” I said. “Give them corn and they’ll do anything for you.”
“Corn. Good. I’ll give you corn, and you can take care of this bozo for me. Got that?” she asked the chickens. I watched her as she worked, my eyes on her body, angry that I had told her that I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss—it was true, and it was something that I had thought about doing over and over again, something that I knew I couldn’t, for my own sake.
