Page 15 of Out on a Limb
Shit. “I forgot it in my cart.” I jumped back into the landscaper’s buggy. “I’ll get it.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I started the engine. “What?”
“I’ll come help you get the next bucket of chicken.” Andrew folded his large body into the passenger’s seat, his lips holding that same almost smile from earlier as he situated himself in the tight quarters. The space was narrow enough that his thigh rested against mine as we drove to where I left my cart, leaving me torn between driving as slow as possible.
Or as fast.
So I just puttered along, cock on my back, sitting thigh to thigh with Andrew like it was a normal day.
Hell, at this point it was.
I parked next to where Julia and the landscapers were lining up the buckets of chicken.
Andrew climbed out from beside me and grabbed the empty bucket, passing it off to one of the men as I handed out the bottles of water I’d forgotten to distribute earlier. Then I loaded the rest into the cart while Andrew put another full bucket of chicken into the back.
Less than two minutes later we were off, headed back to the pen. Once we were there Andrew released the collected chickens into the pen while I doled out the remainder of the water.
In another two minutes we were back on the road.
Andrew stretched one arm across the back of the seat and his thigh pressed tight to mine, stealing some of the attention I should be using to drive.
His leg was tanned and toned and covered with hair that carried a hint of the same red that tinted the waves on his head. I’d always had a thing for redheads, but Andrew was sort of a unicorn in the ginger world. While most redheads were fair-skinned and freckled, he was darker complected, with eyes that toed the line between gold and brown. They always looked one or the other. Sometimes gold. Sometimes brown.
It depended on the light.
Or the phase of the moon.
Or maybe I was just crazy.
Based on the fact that I was currently wearing a chicken in a backpack, I might be inclined to believe it was the latter.
“I think we might get this all handled before noon.” Andrew shifted in his seat, bringing his leg to press more firmly against mine.
“I’ll have to buy everyone lunch.” I’d done it on the day the water main broke. Everyone worked so hard, and I appreciated the fact that they didn’t leave me to deal with it all by myself.
Like my granddad did.
“Is it going to be buckets of chicken?” That little twist of his lips was back.
That might be why I never noticed Andrew joking before. He wasn’t openly funny or worried who got his humor. He just quietly put it out there to be picked up by whoever was paying attention.
It was just as endearing as everything else about him was. Unfortunately.
“You think people would eat chicken right now?” I watched as Julia carried a chicken to the newly-emptied bin.
“You’re the only one making friends with them.”
I peeked back to where the rooster was dozing in his bag. “He’s not my friend.”
I could set him free anytime I wanted.
But he was asleep right now and that seemed mean.
“I’m not judging.” Andrew swung out of the cart as I pulled to a stop. “I’ve had my fair share of strange pets.”
“Like what?” I’d worked for a year to learn more about him. Tried everything I could think of to make my interest in him clear.
