Page 25 of Mother Clucker

“It’s just some video of a day in the life of a guy and his chickens. Simple.” She spread her empty hands wide.

There was that word. Simple.

If I’d learned one thing in my thirty-two years on this Earth it was that nothing was as simple as it seemed, and this whole thing was already getting way too complicated for my liking.

“You know, you could be in it too while you’re here. The offer’s not just for Drew. We’re ready to start shooting right away.”

My eyes widened. “You think that’s my problem with this whole thing? That it’s Drew and not me?” I scoffed. “Sorry, darlin’. You couldn’t be more wrong.”

After Strickland got dragged through the press at the end of last year, the last thing I wanted was to be in front of the camera.

I glanced at her and noticed the strange expression, the pink cheeks, the way she wouldn’t meet my gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“You call all women that?” she asked.

“Do I call all women what?”

“Darlin’.”

I couldn’t help my grin. “Why? You like it?”

Her brows drew low. “No.”

“Liar.”

She spun to face me now. “That’s rude to say.”

“Even if it’s the truth?” I asked.

She opened her mouth and I looked forward to the continuation of our verbal sparring since it was my favorite part of being with Heather. But after sleeping in the sun since we’d gotten here, her damn rooster chose that moment to wake up and get amorous—loudly.

That threw Heather completely into a tizzy. Her cheeks going from pink to red, she spun away from the wire run. “I have to get inside and get Lucy. We need to head back to work.”

“Mmm, hmm.” I knew bullshit when I saw it, but I let her have her delusion that I believed her excuse.

Meanwhile I took note of two things I’d learned today. I could completely throw her off balance by calling her darlin’, which I intended to do often from now on. And any sex, even of the chicken variety, embarrassed her.

I wasn’t sure how to use that tidbit yet but I stored it away for later.

Today had been enlightening, on so many levels.

9

Heather

There was something so soothing about the gentle, steady lapping of water against a sandy shore.

So why wasn’t I soothed? The post-workday walk on the beach was supposed to relax me.

It hadn’t.

I was so wound up after the day spent driving back and forth to Drew’s farm, and the encounter with David, I knew I couldn’t stay inside the condo when I got back late that afternoon.

Even being outdoors on the deck with its million-dollar view hadn’t done it for me, which is what led to my walk on the beach.

To be able to go out the door and be on the sand after just a short walk was amazing. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the fact some people lived like this everyday and that I had the privilege for a whole month.

That I couldn’t appreciate it right now because of one annoying, opinionated, know-it-all got me even more agitated.

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