Page 50 of Revelry
I looked at Jack. Most of the work was done now. We were just finishing it off, hammering in the nails to connect the posts.
“Yeah, we’re good.” Jack frowned. “You’re gonna miss dinner though?”
Maddy nodded. “Duty calls,” she sighed.
“You gotta tell Leo because I don’t think I can do it,” he laughed. Maddy flipped him off before she got back into the truck and drove off.
“Final one and then I think we’re done,” Jack said. “You pull it back and I’ll nail it in.”
I wrapped my arms around the post and tugged, pulling it tighter against the others, interlocking them and Jack started hammering. Then my boots started to slip in the mud.
“Uh, Jack?” I shouted over the banging, right as my foot skidded and I slipped, my ankle sliding at an odd angle and cracking against the post. I let go of the post and it shifted, just as Jack was banging the final nail in and I heard athunkfollowed by a curse.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Shit, sorry Jack,” I said, dusting my hands off, ignoring the throbbing of my ankle as I pulled myself to my feet. When I put my weight on my foot, my ankle snapped to the side, unable to take it. I screeched, the throbbing returning full force.
“Fuck! I don’t think I can walk,” I said, peering up at Jack who was holding his sore thumb and glaring at the hammer.
“I think I’ve broken my thumb,” he groaned.
I couldn’t help it, despite the pain I burst out laughing. Jack frowned at me, not impressed at all at our sorry state.
“We’re gonna need help getting back, let me call August,” he said, pulling his phone out his back pocket gingerly. “Hey August, can you come and help us in the south pasture? Gertie’s hurt pretty bad and can’t walk so—”
I could hear voices on the other end, raised voices. I couldn’t make out what was being said but it didn’t sound like August.
“Tate, it’s fine, she’s just hurt her ankle…Tate? Tate?”
My stomach pitched at the sound of his name.
Jack frowned down at the phone. “He hung up on me.”
I cocked my head. “Why did he have August’s phone?” An unwelcome prickle of jealousy prodded at me at the idea of August and Tate spending time together. August was soft and gentle, she would be good for Tate. She wouldn’t push him out of his comfort zone and annoy him the way I had. They would make a really cute couple. They both loved animals and—
“Well, I’d say we’ve earned our dinner.” Jack interrupted my thoughts.
“I’ll certainly be thankful for it,” I grumbled, my good mood ruined with thoughts of August and Tate naked in bed together.
It was only moments later I felt the rumble on the ground, I looked around, confused. Was it an earthquake? In Wyoming? The thunder of hooves soon followed and I looked up, my mouth dropping open as I took in the sight of Tate on Fitzwilliam’s back, racing towards us, a fierce expression on his face. Hegalloped across the pasture and headed our way, barely slowing as he reached us, sliding off of Fitzwilliam’s back with a skill I hadn’t seen before and immediately dropped to his knees in the mud beside me.
“What’s happened? Gertrude, are you hurt? Can you walk?” I was so stunned by his concern, the fear in his gray eyes and the sheer sexiness of the man on horseback that I didn’t know what to say.
“Gertie,” I muttered.
He clicked his fingers in front of my eyes. “Are you concussed? Dammit woman, talk to me!” he growled, eyes running over me with urgency.
“She’s fine,” Jack snorted. “She’s just clumsy.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Tate, my hero riding in to save me when he heard I’d hurt myself.
My eyes dropped to his lips. I’d tasted those. They tasted spectacular. Should I taste them again?
Yes, my brain said.
“Gertrude!” Tate snapped, and the concern in his voice had me coming back to reality.
“My ankle, I twisted it and then cracked the bone against the post,” I said, trying to shift my leg. He covered my hand with his, engulfing my palm. He ran his other hand down my leg, towards my ankle and lifted it, resting it on his thick thigh and slowly removed my boot. I suddenly remembered my Christmas cat socks and cringed internally at the Virgin Meowry pattern. He rolled the sock down, exposing my ankle which was already beginning to swell.
