Page 7 of Some Like 'Em Burly
Gwen flushes, dunking another biscuit. It softens as she steals glances at me, the crumb darkening, then drops into her tea with a plop.“Yes. Oh.”
“I’ll make you another.”
I start to rise but Gwen grabs my sleeve, keeping me at the kitchen table. Every nerve ending in my body zeroes in on the brush of her knuckles against my forearm.
“No, don’t worry. I do it all the time. I don’t mind drinking tea with bits in.”
My huffed laugh makes her beam, and lord, I don’t see that expression enough. No one does. Life should be kinder to a sweet girl like Gwen. With her wild blonde curls and her rosyapple cheeks, I don’t know how anyone can stand to put her down.
“I’ll help however you need. With finding a place and getting a job. But you’ll have more choice with both if you look further than this valley.”
Gwen’s gaze suddenly drops. She scratches at the wooden table, avoiding my eye. “Okay. Well, I can’t looktoofar. There are—there are important things here. You know. Things I don’t want to leave.”
What things?
Is there a man? A lover she won’t let go?
I cross to put the kettle on again, suddenly sick. It’s none of my business. And it won’t stop me helping her, but lord, I wish she hadn’t told me that.
“Whatever you need,” I repeat, and her relieved sigh is a balm.
I mean that: whatever she needs. Starting with a fresh mug of tea.
* * *
“Resourceful? Team player? Do all resumes sound like complete bullshit?”
Three hours, two sandwiches and a word doc later, my laptop glows on the kitchen table and Gwen lounges in my lap, one arm slung around my neck. She settled onto my thighs an hour ago like it was the most natural thing in the world, saying it would help us read the screen together, and I’ve been in hell ever since.
“They do when you’re starting out. Sorry.” I wince as Gwen wriggles on my legs, trying to get comfortable, her ass moving dangerously close to the proof of her effect on me. My cock’s been so hard for the last hour that I’m surprised I’ve had enough blood in my brain to think straight at all.
My hands clamp on her waist, holding her still. Then, because I’m a bastard, they linger, my thumbs rubbing over the swell of her hips. Her clothes are soft, slipping and sliding under my calloused palms.
“It’s no use,” Gwen says, completely unfazed from the way I’m pawing at her. “Everyone in the valley already knows me. They know I’ve only ever done farm work, and more than that, they know exactly what I’m like.”
I grunt, losing the battle with myself and pressing my face against the back of her head. My lungs fill with her daisy meadow scent. “That’s a good thing, cariad.”
Gwen scoffs. “No, it’s not. Anyone who’s ever listened to my Dad for five seconds will never give me a job.”
Well, that’s probably true, because Farmer Roberts holds sway in this community. He won’t take well to Gwen discovering her independence. And I bite my tongue against the same advice I’ve wanted to give twenty times already this afternoon.Leave this valley. Look elsewhere.
It would crack me open of course, but who knows? Maybe in time I could follow. Maybe she’d let me, and she wouldn’t be disturbed by how deeply I need her nearby.
She wouldn’t have to be in my bed. Lord knows I could never be so lucky. But I need to catch glimpses of her walking down the lane; need to hear snatches of her giddy laughter. Without those things my world will turn gray.
“Does he know you’re here? Should I expect an angry mob circling my forge with pitchforks?”
Gwen slumps in my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. “Wow, I really hope not. Just in case, though, I’m sorry.” Her head tilts to the side, the tip of her nose brushing my bristly jaw. “He shouldn’t have spread those rumors about you, Rhys Evans. He knows it’s all bullshit.”
I squeeze her waist, my heart slamming into my ribs. “Not all of it.”
Gwen’s silent for a long moment, and all I can hear is my blood rushing in my ears. Our shared breaths, getting quicker and more ragged.
“Listen, Gwen—”
She moves quickly. One moment she’s still, and the next, she’s a flurry of frizzy hair and sharp elbows. My air leaves me in a rush as she jabs me in the gut, and my eyes are watering when she finally settles in my lap again, facing me this time.
“Gwen,” I wheeze.
