by Emily Bowie
“How’s it going?” Crash pops his head in mid-video of my how-tos.
Embarrassed that he caught me watching videos on my phone, I slide it into my back pocket. I hope he doesn’t think I’m slacking. I can already feel my heart warming for this baby horse.
“Good. Look.” I hold up the almost empty bottle.
He gives me that panty-dropping smile, and my heart flutters by the impressed look he’s giving me. He props his shoulder to the stall’s wooden post while kicking his leg out in front of him.
“I’m impressed. It only took you about two hours.”
Aunt Millie’s head is right at my leg, and my hand pats her all while keeping my eyes on Crash, trying to figure out if that was a compliment or not.
“Looks like you two have bonded and formed a friendship.”
I feel her nose nudging between my legs, but for the most part, I ignore it while trying not to be too obvious that I’m pushing her away. I need this job. I’ve placed all my eggs in Crash’s basket here. Pun very much intended. I want him to feel that I value his input; I found this helped a lot around the hospital.
“You keep on letting her eat that skirt, you’ll quickly become her favorite, and I have to say, I will absolutely enjoy that view.”
Looking down, I see Aunt Millie is gnawing on the hem of my skirt, pulling the tiny fibers out of it. I just can’t seem to stop embarrassing myself.
“Full disclosure, I’m a bit of a hot mess. Every day, I will embarrass myself this much. If you could pretend to not see, it would be greatly appreciated.” I try to go for civil and direct.
He lets a deep laugh that rumbles his six-pack abs. “No can do, sweetheart.” With that, he dips his head in goodbye. “I’ll be sure to stay in the front if you need any help.”
CHAPTER 7
Piper is the most stubborn, hard worker I know. She refuses to ask me for help. I watch her listening to videos for direction often. She never did use her bed last night.
Walking into the barn this morning, I come with a hot muffin and coffee from our local bakery—one of the businesses I don’t own. As I slide the door open, the area is silent. Walking lightly, I head in farther, seeing her lying down beside Aunt Millie, her one arm draped across the foal’s charcoal neck. Quickly, I snap a picture of it before placing my phone in my pocket as my foot taps on the post.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
She begins to stir to the sound of my booming voice coming across the silent area. Aunt Millie shakes her head, her eyes lifting to me. Piper slowly sits up, looking around and appearing disoriented as she rubs at her eyes.
“You never came in last night, so I thought I’d bring you breakfast.” Raising my hands, I show my gifts. Her blonde hair has hay sticking out from it, her mascara looks smudged under her eyes, and I’m pretty sure there’s some drool on the side of her mouth. As she stands, I notice her scrubs have dirt on them… almost everywhere.
“Why don’t you go wash up and enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll feed Millie her breakfast?” I suggest.
Piper shakes her head in what looks like an attempt to wake up, and a yawn escapes her.
“I should be able to give you a break this afternoon for a nap too.” I honestly don’t have time for that, but I feel bad that she looks so tired. My cousin’s parting words to me as I left the beach party ring through my head. “No use in putting so much effort into all those businesses when the people you want to see it never will.” For one of the first times in my life, I seem to be putting someone before the small empire I’ve been building.
“Thank you, she likes when you talk to her while she eats, and she likes to be scratched right here.” I watch as Piper bends down, showing me. I wish she still had that jean skirt of hers on. My eyes stay on her the whole way to the house. Piper is hot as fuck, even after sleeping in a barn with a horse. My mind starts to envision her in the shower, and I hope I get a chance to show her just how good mine can be. Because of the chemistry I feel between us, I have no doubt she will be sharing my bed before she leaves Oakport Beach.
My phone vibrating in my front pocket forces my eyes away from her. “Hello?” I answer, not bothering to look who it is. I begin walking back to Aunt Millie with the phone glued to my ear.
“Crash! How’s it going?” my brother, Epic, exclaims. He and I haven’t talked since Christmas. We both had a few too many rum and eggnogs and said things we can’t take back. He along with my parents refuse to see the value in Oakport Beach, thinking it’s a waste of time, effort, and money.
“Same old, living the dream in my beach town.” My brother and I each have a lot of issues that all go against each other’s. One, he looks down at me for living in some small town, which only gets placed on a map if you have a map of the greater area of Charleston. Two, he’s jealous that I have made it as well as I have in said small town. The only issues I have with my brother are those issues he has with me. But he’s adamant that city life is the way to go, where he’s always competing for the next best thing.
My friends, along with most of the town, keep reminding me that I will never make my family happy, with sayings like “All you’re doing is chasing a dream that’ll never be seen.” They mean well, but it feels more like salt being poured in an open wound when they remind me that no one in my family takes notice of what I have done for myself and this town and continue looking down at me for still living here.
“Always the working man, huh?” He doesn’t even try to hide his sarcasm. “Not even your brother coming back home is a good enough reason to stop.” That’s a dig for when he was here around Christmas, and I ended up having to work most of the time. Each time I left, it was for some type of emergency I couldn’t help.
“I was thinking of coming up to see you.” My feet come to a halt.
“My spare room is all used up.” I don’t need my brother here. The thing is, he competes with me for everything. Having him here while Piper’s here would be nothing but bad news. Memories of how he stole my prom date with only a week to go bulldoze me back to that day like it was yesterday. Or the time he ran our ride-on tractor into the fences then told everyone it was me. Or the time he stole my wave, cutting me off and causing me to get a concussion from my surfboard. My brother and I need small doses of each other.
“You’re going to make me stay in your motel?” He sounds disgusted by the idea. It’s not like he plans to pay for his room, no matter where I put him.
“Come at the end of summer. I’ll have more time to spend with you.” I try to go with a different angle. “We’ll have one of our famous bonfires, hit the waves, and drink too much beer.”
“Sounds good, man. Keep in touch.” I think I hear a tinge of disappointment, and for a second, I feel bad. But then I have to remind myself things never go well when he’s here. We say goodbye and disconnect. I look in the direction of my missing fence boards, even though I can’t see them from where I’m standing in the barn. At Christmas, while I was working, Epic decided to lash out and hurt me one of the few ways he still can. There was no apology from him then, and I’ve left the gaps to remind myself what my brother is capable of. I have to stop myself from thinking about it. No need to get angry when I have no control over my brother and his actions.
Taking a seat on a stool, I push thoughts about my brother away and begin to consider the new opportunity that was presented to me a few days ago. Even when contemplating the venture, my brother still pops back into my head. It would be nice to show Epic another successful business of mine when he comes down. Maybe if our parents heard about how great this town has become, then one of them may want to return and retire here. The day they moved, they cut everyone out of their lives, not just me but our cousins too. I can’t help but think about Wade and his comment, “Start living for myself.” Is another company the way to do that? At what point is too much? With that, I worry maybe I’ve stopped listening to myself but not everyone around me.
Going into my email, I type out a r
esponse, asking about buying the building. This isn’t my typical business venture, but it holds value to our town.
Just as I go to put my phone away, one of Frankie’s messages catches my eye. It’s a picture of her, Danger, Haven, and me that was taken at the beach party the day I met Piper. We all look so happy. It’s a shame I haven’t been able to see much of my friends. My businesses consume me most of the time. They have to book me months in advance to get into my schedule.
CHAPTER 8
The heat never had a chance to fade away overnight, making today scorching as soon as the sun starts to crawl over the horizon. There is an instant shrivel to plant life. I’ve had to go for an early ’90s style, rolling up my scrub top, tucking it in through the neck, and pulling it out, creating a triangle-like bikini top for myself. I’m sweltering in this heat. Poor Millie looks to be feeling the same. The small fan in the corner of the barn does nothing but move hay around.
Encouraging Millie, I help her to stand before attempting to lead her out into the pasture. She stops at the barn door, not wanting to budge any farther. “Trust me, girl. I will make this worth your while.” My hand glides down her beautiful black coat, trying to coax her out. “I’m hot as hell too.”
With a few tugs on her halter, she unwillingly comes. I have the hose all set up, turning it on to spray her and me down with the warm water that’s been heating in the black plastic. Even once it becomes cold, it doesn’t bother us as it should. I feel refreshed and no longer like my insides are boiling by the time I shut it off.
“See? It feels better.” I laugh when she steps forward trying to bite at my scrub pants.
“Well, you two look comfortable.” Crash’s voice comes from behind me.
“I love the heat, but this is too much,” I explain, trying to justify why I’m standing under a hose and am now a wet mess. His eyes crinkle, taking me in, and my mouth goes dry. His lips curve upward on one side more than the other. He doesn’t shy away from looking at me with what looks like want. The muscles in my stomach burn, and I start to feel my blush spread up to my cheeks once again.
Crash looks like he belongs on a beach with his board shorts and bare chest. Mimicking his expression, my eyelids flutter, focusing on his bare skin down to the outline of his package once again. It’s not like his shorts are too tight.
“Do you ever wear a shirt?” I challenge, trying to avoid what I’m feeling.
“Funny, I was just going to ask if you ever don’t wear a shirt.”
Shit, that doesn’t help. I can feel my nipples straining against my bra. “Har, har.” Rolling my eyes, I begin to lead Millie back to the barn, hoping to get myself under control. Forgetting about the puddle I made, I walk through it, the dirty water sinking in from the hem of my scrubs and sneaking its way in through the material on all sides. My head stays up, and I try not to make a face as I feel the wetness seep into my only pair of non-sandals.
It’s not until I turn that I allow my face to scrunch up, hating that odd sensation surrounding my foot. If Crash hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have been distracted.
“Hey, Piper,” he calls to my back.
This is it; he’s going to comment on my now muddy shoe. As I look over my shoulder, he continues, “I have a TV shower I have to go to tonight. Will you come with me?”
Did he just say TV shower, as in like a baby shower?
“A what?” I try to keep the judgment off my face, but it isn’t working. I’ve never been good at hiding how I feel. It’s all part of this hot mess of a life I live. I can’t seem to make anything easier on myself.
“No, you heard right. Long story, my cousin Danger is having a TV shower for his new flat-screen, because his sister insisted she had to have a puppy shower. Danger refused to go, so Frankie is refusing to go to his, but I went to her dog shower, and now she owes me. She’s coming to look after Aunt Millie so you can have a night off.”
“To go to a TV shower?” It’s almost too ridiculous to not believe.
“Yes.” He nods in all seriousness.
“Okay then.” My words are slow as I wait for the “Ha! I got you” part to fall from those incredible lips of his. “What time should I be ready?” It might be good to meet more people in town, and who knows? Maybe they’ll all look like Crash, and I’ll never leave.
He smiles like a kid who just walked into a candy store. “Be ready by five.”
I smell god-awful. The odor is a mixture of horses, sweat, and barn. On the plus side, Aunt Millie did drink every bottle I gave her today. If for some reason she refuses tonight, I won’t be worried. Even though Crash mentioned that Frankie was the one who helped him before me, I made sure to label and leave detailed notes about everything. I may be a slob in general, but I’m a master organizer when I’m working.
I saw Crash fiddling around in the yard, doing who knows what. I have no idea how he stays in the sun without any effects. He should be burned to a crisp, puking with heat stroke, but he’s fine. This shower is going to feel amazing. Going to my room, I strip everything off. The fabric is damp and dirty. My skin automatically feels better with nothing on it.
I don’t wait for the shower to warm; I step in immediately, my skin basking in the cool water. A few random pieces of hay get stuck in the drain by the time I step out. I don’t bother to blow dry my hair; this heat will have it dry before I’m even dressed.
I slip on my jean skirt and a light-pink tank top, hoping this Danger guy has some AC in his place.
Heading back into the bathroom, I try to make sure I haven’t left anything in there, not wanting Crash to get annoyed with all my girly stuff. I know how men can be when women take over their space too fast. Unfortunately, all my past boyfriends seemed to complain about this the most.
While wiping down the bathroom counter, I can’t help but to keep looking at the closed door to his room. Walking toward it, I slowly open it an inch to peer inside. It’s overly clean, as in everything has its perfect spot. Sliding the door open a little more, I look around. You can tell this is a man’s room with a masculine, darker tone in decor. I can’t help myself; I step in farther, checking it out. There is not a speck of dust on his dresser. The same lemon scent that was in his crash pad lingers in this room.
I’m starting to believe I’m living with a neat freak. Nothing is out of place, no clothes on the floor, unlike my room that I’ve only been in for a week.
Opening a drawer, I see perfectly folded clothes sitting in crisp lines. I wonder if he would be willing to do my laundry. I’m a horrible person for thinking this, but if he’s already doing his… what are a few more pieces?
Singing catches my attention, drawing me to his window. I’m shocked in place as I watch a very naked, very sexy Crash showering in what looks to be an outdoor shower. His back is to me, that tanned ass of his looking tight as hell, his back muscles that I’ve been ogling already looking better from this view.
Holy shit. I can’t stop watching. His singing stops, and I see the suds in his hair, and baby Jesus he turns around. My eyes open twice their size, taking in his front view. He’s soft, and he’s already the biggest I’ve ever seen.
Water cascades down his face, soap trailing down his entire rock-hard body. Here I thought he always showered in our shared bathroom after I left, but I can see he chooses this wonderful outside contraption. What would the harm be if I accidentally ran into him outside while he was showering one of these days?
“It’s a pretty cool shower, huh?” a voice who isn’t Crash says from behind me.
I scream, jumping back. I should have turned, but I can’t. Crash opens his eyes, and we connect. I scream again, forcing myself to turn, only to see a girl with bright-purple hair standing in the bedroom doorway and watching me with a big old smile on her face.
“I think I burnt my face today,” I blurt out, because all I can feel is my skin on fire. I don’t even know if it’s from watching Crash or from being caught.
The girl laughs. “I called out for you
and Crash a few times….” she trails off, but that look on her face tells me she knows what I was doing.
“He’s not here.” I walk quickly toward her.
“I bet he’s not.” She gives me that all-knowing smile.
Shit, caught red-handed. Sweat is pouring off me again, my heart galloping. I’m going to need another shower before I leave at this rate.
“I’m Frankie.” She takes my hand and shakes it. “Crash always seems to have this effect. I’m used to it. Nothing to be shy over.” Her tone is so nonchalant, like she hadn’t just caught me spying on Crash—naked.
Clearing my throat, I respond, “Piper.”
“I know. In fact, everyone knows. Small town, everyone is chomping at the bit to meet you.”
I’m still completely embarrassed. I’m lost on how to act; I’m distraught. My fingers vibrate, needing something to do, while I try to look anywhere but at her. The guilt is eating at me. I know better.
“I heard you have a puppy.” I try to change the subject from me.
“Here.” She hands me a cardstock rectangle with pictures of two tiny dogs on it. Damn, it’s an actual wedding invitation. “At the end of the month, he’s getting married.” I have to double-check, and it looks like dog names on the invite. I force my mouth closed, scared I’m going to say something to offend her and once again trying to hide my judgmental face regarding this wedding.
“Between us girls, I do it to get under my brother’s skin,” she whispers, even though we’re the only ones in the house. Brother? As in Danger maybe? Puppy shower, puppy wedding….
“I’m in,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say.
“If we become better friends, I’ll let you be a bridesmaid.” She winks at me, and I have no idea if she’s being serious or not. I’m starting to think it could be real.
