41. Marnie

The sink in Uncle Gus’s kitchen faces the farmyard. Giant silver maples sway in the breeze, their branches heavy with leaves. Dusty’s barn is directly in my line of sight. The shop where he works on the tractors is to the right.

I’m scrubbing frosting tips, attempting to get buttercream out of the tiny nooks and crannies. But I’m distracted. Because just out that window, Dusty is busy working away.

He’s backed a long trailer, little more than a frame on wheels, next to a long pile of silver pipe. They’re as big around as my head and probably twenty feet long.

Once, when I was about thirteen, I helped Uncle Gus with this job. They’re irrigation pipe. Farmers lay them out every summer to water the crops and pick them up again right before harvest.

Uncle Gus had hired some neighbor kid to help lift the heavy pipe while I drove the truck. I’d drive twenty feet, they’d lay a pipe out, fit it together, and then we’d do the next one. Wash, rinse, repeat. At best, it’s a three-man job. At worst, it takes two.

Dusty is going at it alone.

I watch, more than a little impressed, as he walks to the middle of the long pipe and lifts it by himself, settling it on the trailer. Just another casual display of strength from the ultimate human.

Drying off my hands, I glance back at Ed. “Your daddy’s going to throw his back out. Should we go help?”

Ed perks his head up, tail thumping once in an affirmative.

Putting on a pair of sneakers, I step outside, Ed trotting ahead. Dusty looks up as we approach, grinning at me. He reaches out when I get close and reels me in. One hand slips under the hem of my shirt and drags it up my back. The other glides along my shorts, cupping my ass. “What are you two up to?”

“We’ve come to save the day.”

“I like the sounds of that.”

He anchors me against his hips. “What did you have in mind?”

I nod at the stack of pipe, like a long, silver pyramid. “I’m going to help with that.”

A look of genuine surprise crosses his face. “With the pipe?”

I nod. “Were you going to do it by yourself?”

“That was the plan.”

“It’s not a one-person job. I may not know much about farming, but I know that much.”

A grin tugs at his lips, and he ducks his head.

I frown. “Look at these muscles.”

I flex my meager biceps. “I could be a big asset to the team. Plus, I come with a dog.”

“Oh, I’m not doubting that.”

“Why are you laughing, then?”

“I’m not. This is my happy face.”

He presses his lips to mine, smiling. “You going to spend the day with me?”

“Seems like it.”

He kisses me again. “Can’t stay away, can you?”

I try to pull away. “That’s it. Offer rescinded.”

He laughs, locking his arms around me. “I’m not letting you get away now.”

Eventually, we peel apart and, together, we lift the pipe from opposite ends. They’re not impossible to lift, but they are heavy. It takes effort for me to lift one end and this maniac was lifting them by himself. Once we load the trailer with three rows of pipe, we hop in the truck. Ed stares at me from the gravel, green eyes full of reprimand. “Oh, right.”

I slide to the middle, making room for the dog.

Dusty gets in and with one hand on my thigh, and the other on the wheel, navigates the trailer out of the yard. “I like these shorts.”

He murmurs, fingertips trailing ever higher.

Ed glances over at us, and I swear to God, raises an eyebrow before looking away in disgust. “I think the dog is judging us.”

“He likes to think he has the moral high ground. This, coming from a guy who licks his own ass.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about you doing what you’re doing with that hand while you talk about your dog’s grooming habits.”

“It’s dirty talk.”

Dusty’s fingers graze my panties.

“You like a good play on words, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You’re a pretty big nerd for somebody who’s so pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Nope.”

He puts his hand around my shoulder and tugs me against his side. “I heard it. No take-backsies.”

“I changed my mind. I’m a very fickle person.”

He hooks his arm around my neck, forearm dangling over my chest. His hand cups my breast. “Are you sure you want to help with this? We could find some quiet country road instead.”

“And study wildlife?”

“I’d study something. Those thighs. These pretty little things…”

He squeezes my breast.

“Little?”

“Petite?”

I frown, but a laugh slips out, giving me away. “Just drive, Romeo.”