Page 24 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
She moved in front of me, bent over, and looked into the box. “There’s somebody in there.”
“So reach beneath her and take the eggs.” I struggled to keep my eyes off her ass.
“I don’t think I should. She’s giving me the evil eye.”
“Jesus Christ. Move, I’ll do the rest.” I took her by the waist and swung her to the side to get her out of my way, but once I had my hands on her, I didn’t want to let go.
And I’m a fucking weak-willed asshole, so I didn’t.
I left them there a couple seconds too long.
“Jack?” She looked at me over her shoulder, her expression confused.
I dropped my hands.
What the fuck are you doing?
“Just give me the basket,” I ordered roughly, yanking it from her hand.
She turned around. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” I angled away from her and started grabbing the remaining eggs, angry with myself.
This was a bad idea.
It was a long day.
As I’d suspected, Margot was clueless about everything and had a thousand ridiculous questions.
“So you don’t milk a male cow?”
“Why do you need an electric fence?”
“How big is an acre?”
“Are those goats?”
“What’s a CSA?”
“Why do you have to rotate crops?”
“Isn’t it weird to butcher an animal you spent all that time raising? Do you ever want to keep the cute ones?”
“So chickens lay eggs from their butts?”
I did my best to answer her questions, figuring the more she realized she didn’t know, the more likely it would be that she might decide she couldn’t help. But she learned fast, and by late afternoon, her questions grew more thoughtful, her hands steadier, her pace quicker. I found myself admiring her curiosity about the farm, her willingness to tackle any job I gave her, and the fact that she never once complained about the sun or the heat or the smell or the dirt lodged under her fingernails and caked on her fancy boots.
But the worst thing was the way I kept wanting to touch her. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d done in the chicken coop, and I stopped myself a dozen times from doing it again. What the hell was my problem?
Finally, I had to admit that for the first time since Steph died, I was seriously attracted to a woman.
It was almost a relief.
I wasn’t happy about it, but logically, I knew it was just a biological urge and I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, especially since her presence here was temporary. And who wouldn’t be attracted to Margot? She was beautiful, smart, and kind. And aside from her ignorance about life outside the bubble she lived in, she was nice to be around. She could laugh at herself, tried again if she failed at something the first time, and was actually really good with the horses. I wondered if she’d had experience with them.
“Do you ride?” I asked her when we were in the barn at the end of the day.
“I had a horse growing up,” she said, stroking the neck of the mare I’d been concerned about yesterday.
